“I have to kill Tanku Din,” he told them after the appetizers arrived.
Tar paused with a crispy squid ball halfway toward his mouth. “The son of the Mountain’s Horn? Big, mean fellow with the flat nose and a shitload of jade?”
“That’s the one,” Hilo said. “And it has to be soon, and with a clean blade.”
“It’s been nice knowing you, keke,” Tar quipped. “I’ll ask the gods to recognize you.” When he saw that Hilo was completely serious, Tar’s smirk disappeared and he said, “You’re good, Hilo-jen, everyone knows that. But even you’re not Baijen reborn. Tanku Din is above our level, at least for now.” Tanku Din was a first-rank Fist of the Mountain. Duels between Green Bones were usually fought between those of roughly equal status. It was poor form to fight someone beneath one’s own level, and simply unwise to challenge someone far more heavily jaded than oneself. It was possible to win against someone with a significant jade advantage, just as it was possible to prevail against an opponent who was twice one’s size. Possible, but unlikely.
Kehn said, “What sort of grudge do you have against Tanku that it can’t wait?”
“Nothing personal. I barely know the man, though I don’t especially care to.” Tanku Din had a reputation for being an excellent fighter and an organized Fist, but also a petty human being, someone easily angered by criticism, who would punish subordinates or abandon Lantern Men for offending him in minor ways.
Hilo explained the situation to the Maiks and his reasoning behind the need to act urgently. “Grandda can’t make Shae marry a dead man.”
Even Kehn and Tar looked a little taken aback at this, although they couldn’t argue with the logic. Kehn rubbed the back of his neck and blew out a contemplative breath. “One-on-one is too risky. Maybe we could take him together in an ambush.”
Hilo shook his head. “We can’t have anyone thinking that Lan whispered his name to me. Lan has to stay on Grandda’s good side until the old man finally steps down. So it has to seem unplanned.” When the Maik brothers looked at each other with undisguised skepticism, Hilo snapped, “Don’t ever sit in front of me with a look that says you’re giving up right away. Think about the Charge of Twenty. My own father found a way to do the impossible at the cost of his own life because failing wasn’t an option. When something has to be done, there’s always a way to do it.” This was to become something he was known to say to his many Fists in the years to come.
The following Thirdday afternoon, Hilo and the Maik brothers drove into Mountain territory and visited a bar in a neighborhood they knew was controlled by Tanku Din and his Fingers. Hilo strode into the Black Goose, set his sheathed moon blade on a table, and declared to the bartender, “My friends and I aren’t here to cause trouble. We’re just looking to have a drink or two.”
Hilo and the Maiks sat down and each ordered a beer. They drank and talked and ordered more beers, followed by a bottle of hoji. After two hours, the bartender went to the back of the building and phoned Tanku Din, who arrived fifteen minutes later to see what the trouble was with the No Peak Green Bones who weren’t leaving a Mountain property. When Tanku arrived, Hilo’s face lit up and he motioned the Mountain Fist over to their table. “Tanku-jen, come have a drink with us!”
Tanku looked at the several empty beer and hoji glasses on the table and said, “I think you’ve had enough, Kaul. You realize you’re in the Stump, don’t you? It’s time for you to go home.” He rested a hand casually on the hilt of his moon blade.
“That’s not a very hospitable thing to say to family,” Hilo replied. “You’re going to marry my little sister, aren’t you? We’re going to be brothers, so my home will be your home, and your home”—he gestured around the bar—“will be my home.”
Tanku blinked in surprise, then leaned his hands on the table, glancing at the Maiks before lowering his voice to Hilo. “How do you know that?”
“Tanku-jen, you don’t know what you’re getting into. My little sister’s spoiled. My grandfather told her the good news, and she came to me crying her eyes out, saying that she didn’t want to be married off to a pig-faced brute.” The thought of Shae coming to him with any of her problems, much less in tears, was so amusing to Hilo that his grin was genuine. If Tanku had an especially good sense of Perception, maybe he could sense that Hilo was spinning a tale, but it didn’t really matter.