Master No was inside the inn for only a few seconds when he started to worry again, and his worry centered on the innkeeper.
The man did not greet him at the door, welcoming him warmly on this stormy night—the innkeeper stayed behind his bar, acting like a big city barkeeper with a full house, even though Master No was the only customer in the room. There were four other people inside, but they were clearly the innkeeper’s helpers.
Master No saw also that the innkeeper and his helpers were slow and clumsy and looked unhappy doing their work. And there were too many helpers—a small inn such as this should have only one or two. Something was wrong.
Tired as he was, Master No stayed alert. He walked over to the fire at the end of the common room and slowly removed his outer clothes while he looked around. In particular he studied the bored innkeeper’s face.
Master No’s decades of worldly experiences let him see a pattern. The innkeeper was, he decided, extremely ruthless and evil. He was probably a bandit leader, playing at being an innkeeper while he waited for someone to come, most likely the Magic Prince.
“The prince will not come but his magic lamp has arrived already. How long before this evil man discovers that?” wondered Master No, “And how long will I then stay alive? Clearly, I have become part of a most interesting tale!”
Master No reasoned that leaving immediately on such a night would raise the suspicions of the bandit leader, so he would have to spend the night acting normally, protecting himself by using his wits. Whenever he could, he must think of the man as the innkeeper that he was pretending to be.
“Ah, you are lucky to have such nice weather down here,” said Master No. “The pass is much worse.”
“You came from the west?” said the innkeeper. In fact, Master No had come from the east, the same direction from which the Magic Prince must be expected.
“I was studying birds in the pass when this storm came up. I’m happy you have this fine inn here. I will go back up the pass and continue my studies when the weather gets better.”
The innkeeper looked bored, dismissing Master No as an old, crazy bird watcher—and not even thinking to offer him a room. This was bad—he was so bored he was forgetting to pretend to be an innkeeper, which meant he might soon stop pretending and do something dramatic, such as kill Master No!
“Do you have a room?” finally asked Master No, after waiting for the innkeeper to think of it on his own.
The innkeeper paid attention to him again. “Yes,” he said, and he motioned to one of his helpers. “Dong-Kee, take our honored customer to his room.”
This pretending was clearly going on longer than the bandits had intended and Dong-Kee wasn’t sure what to do—there were little hand signals and motions between them as Dong-Kee figured out where to take Master No.
It was the last room at the end of the hall. It was small, not a room of honor, but likely the bandits had been using the nearer rooms, so they would not be clean. In fact Master No was quite happy with the choice. If he needed to slip out quietly and quickly this was a good room to do it from.
Master No chose to keep the lamp at his side—its camouflage had worked so far and it was likely his room would be searched while he was eating. As he cleaned up he thought, “So, I share this inn with a desperate and bloodthirsty bandit pack who have most likely killed the true inn owners. The gods have truly rewarded my search for the unusual quickly and in a most spectacular way. Now how am I to survive?”
Once he had washed and meditated he returned to the common room. He was truly tired and hungry, and if he did not come back to the common room and eat dinner that would be suspicious. Fortunately the bandit cook was a good cook and the meal was hearty and filling. With his belly full and his legs recovering from the difficult journey, Master No was in the mood to find out more about this story he was in.
The leader made it easy. Every few minutes he would pace to the front door and look out.
“You seem restless tonight, Master Innkeeper,” commented Master No as he sat next to the fire in the big room smoking a clay pipe.
The innkeeper looked at him sourly and said, “It’s a rotten night out there. There should be more customers in here!”
“Truly it is a difficult night to travel. Are you expecting someone in particular?”
All eyes in the room turned on Master No until he added, “Some familiar local customer? A good friend?”
The eyes eased off.
“No. I am new here,” the leader admitted. “I … uh … bought this place recently. And the previous owner assured me this place did lots of business on stormy nights.” He glared again at the door.
“Well, congratulations, and good luck to you!” said Master No. “In support of your new business, please allow me to order up another drink. And if you have time please let me buy one for you.”
The innkeeper looked around and made a choice. “That is very kind of you,” he said and sat down opposite Master No at the fire. He motioned to one of his men, who brought over two drinks. Another small mistake: They were expensive liquor, not the regular inn brew—the man habitually served the best of their loot to his boss. The innkeeper drank his down quickly. Master No sipped his slowly.
“I don’t travel this way often, Master Innkeeper, but I hear that this road has had more than its share of notable people. I hear that King Yang-Yin once traveled this road.”
The innkeeper gave a bored grunt, but that was all—reverence and history were not strong points of his.
“I think a great bandit, Cho Lo-Bo, also traveled this road, chased by that great servant of the people, Marshall Gung Ho-Jo.”
Master No had no idea if they had used this trail or not but their story was told in many different ways by different people. Master No knew that bandits, in particular, had strong opinions on these two—some liked Cho Lo-Bo and some hated him. Master No would learn more about this particular bandit by what he said about Cho Lo-Bo.
“That is news to me. I thought Cho Lo-Bo operated south of here,” replied the innkeeper.
“Really? I’ve had innkeepers east of here claim that Cho Lo-Bo slept in their places.”
“You’ve been east of here?” The innkeeper eyed him carefully again.
“Many times,” said Master No calmly. “I was quite a traveler in my youth.”
The innkeeper looked bored again. He got up and walked to the door. As he did he said, “Well, I suspect those innkeepers took you for a gullible fool. Cho Lo-Bo was never this far north.”
This time as he looked out, his face brightened a bit. “The snow has ended.”
He motioned to two of his helpers who were lounging in the common area. “You two, go scout down the trail towards the valley. See if you can find me some customers.”
The innkeeper turned to Master No. “Sorry, I can’t talk anymore. There’s much to be done now.”
“I understand, and I’m tired as well. Congratulations again on becoming owner of this place and I will see you in the morning.”
Master No headed for his room. Tired as he was, he needed to investigate this lamp before the innkeeper decided the Magic Prince was not coming and took up a more desperate plan, whatever that was.