The first thing Xu Hao did with his freedom was lie perfectly still.
Nine mornings of waking with his wrists bound had taught him not to move until he knew where the knots were. He lay beneath the shelter, listening to the fire crackle and waiting for the familiar pull around his elbows.
It never came.
He lifted a hand, turned it over and flexed his fingers.
The angry marks left by the vines were still there, but the vines themselves were gone.
"Well," he murmured. "That's an improvement."
A pot struck a wooden bowl hard enough to startle a bird out of the branches.
Across the clearing, Big One was emptying their cooking things into a leather sack. He appeared to believe that every object would pack more quickly if thrown from a greater height. Big Two was taking down the shelter, loosening the knots Xu Hao had spent nine days watching from the wrong side.
Beyond them stood two blackened trees. The two-headed snake had struck there the previous night. There was no sign of its body now, only a mound of newly turned earth farther into the brush.
Yesterday, those men had been his captors. They had also been the only reason he'd lived long enough to see another morning.
Big One noticed him sitting up and shouted a greeting. Xu Hao recognised the words for eat and go. The rest arrived much too quickly.
A leaf-wrapped parcel sailed towards him. He caught it awkwardly against his chest and found cold roasted meat inside.
Big One grinned, then spotted the vines lying beside the shelter. He bent to pick them up.
Xu Hao's fingers closed around the parcel.
For one unpleasant instant he was back against the tree, feeling a knot tighten every time he tried to ease his shoulders.
Big One glanced over. He saw Xu Hao looking at the vines, and something in his face changed. Without a word he stuffed them into the supply sack, out of sight, and returned to the cooking pots.
It was a small consideration. Xu Hao was annoyed to find he appreciated it.
When Xu Hao rose, his walking stick lay where he had slept.
Big One picked it up first. He balanced the crooked length of wood across two fingers, then pretended the weight dragged his arm to the ground. With a magnificent groan he staggered two steps and leaned against a tree.
"An astonishing performance. Have you considered a career on the stage?"
Big Two called something sharp from the edge of the clearing. The performance ended at once. Big One handed the stick over, looking entirely unashamed.
Xu Hao took it. A few days ago he'd thought the stick might let him defend himself. Yesterday he'd watched the snake burn holes into trees thicker than his waist.
* * *
They finished packing before the sun cleared the ridge.
Big Two shouldered the shelter and most of the provisions. Big One took the cooking gear and the heavier tools. Neither reached for Xu Hao.
The path through the trees stood open.
He looked downhill. The stream ran that way, past a fallen log and into a tangle of ferns. If he followed it far enough, perhaps it would lead to a settlement. Rivers often had, in the places he'd excavated on Earth.
Big Two stopped at the trees and looked back. He waited without calling.
Xu Hao could walk away. For the first time since arriving in this world, nobody would drag him back by the wrists.
His local language amounted to a few nouns and commands. He had no money, and his clothes were torn. He knew how quickly a quiet patch of woodland could produce something with enough teeth to make all three problems irrelevant.
Xu Hao didn't know where it led. He knew the men leading him could survive in the forest. He also knew they were capable of doing terrible things when frightened or suspicious.
Not a choice he would have recommended to anyone else.
"For now," he told himself, and followed them.
* * *
The brothers walked as though hills had no particular right to be difficult.
Big One bounded over roots with his sack bouncing against his back. Big Two followed with the folded shelter across one shoulder, his pace so steady that Xu Hao began to resent it.
By the first rise his ankle stung. By the second his right heel rubbed raw. He favoured the other leg until it began to complain too.
The body was fifteen years old, if he had judged it correctly. It was still a body that had spent the better part of nine days tied to a tree.
A root caught his toe. He pitched forward and jammed the walking stick between two stones just in time to keep his face out of the mud.
"Wait!"
He tried the local word.
Big Two turned immediately. Big One continued for a few steps, discovered he was alone, and came back with an expression of deep personal disappointment.
Big Two asked a question. Xu Hao caught the word tired.
"Yes. Tired. Very tired."
He repeated the last word in the brothers' language. Big Two nodded and handed him water.
Big One pointed towards the hilltop. He slapped one thigh, grinned, and said something that sounded alarmingly like a challenge.
"No," Xu Hao said, with the dignity of a man negotiating from a position beside a tree stump. "I will not race you uphill. I refuse to lose in front of an audience consisting entirely of the people responsible for the race."
Big Two spoke sharply. Big One threw up his hands, then sat on a log and opened the food sack.
Xu Hao removed his shoe. A blister had risen along his heel, right where the leather folded inward. He touched it gently and winced.
Big Two crouched beside him. Without asking to see the foot again, he brought out a strip of clean cloth and held it over.
The same man had helped tie him to a tree.
He accepted the cloth.
"Thank you."
Big Two showed him how to fold it against the rubbing part of the shoe. Then he pointed at the water and gave the word slowly, making Xu Hao repeat it.
They worked on three words while he rested: water, walk, and stop. Xu Hao had heard them all before. Today he learned which sound in each word mattered.
He'd studied languages from inscriptions more damaged than this conversation. Their patterns were coming to him faster than expected. Perhaps the young body helped.
When they continued, Big Two stayed close enough to notice if he fell behind. Big One still took the lead, but every so often he looked back and adjusted his pace without comment.
* * *
They reached a narrow section of hillside where the trees grew close together. Damp ferns crowded the path, brushing against Xu Hao's knees. The ground smelled of wet bark and disturbed soil.
Big Two stopped.
He didn't call out. He simply raised a hand.
Xu Hao halted so quickly that the blunt end of his stick skidded over a stone.
Something moved beyond the ferns.
First came a grunt, deep and liquid. Then the sharp crack of a branch. A heavy body pushed through the brush, and Xu Hao caught sight of bristles the colour of old bone.
The creature stepped into the path.
A boar, if boars in this world had been assembled by a man who greatly disliked hunters. It stood almost shoulder-high to Xu Hao, with a deep chest, a neck thick enough to support a tree trunk and tusks that curved upwards past its snout.
Mud clotted its pale hide. One small eye rolled towards them.
The boar lowered its head.
"Move!"
He threw himself behind a tree as the animal lunged towards the path. His heel caught against a root. For half a second he was neither standing nor falling, and the great white shape seemed to fill the entire space between the trunks.
A sword came free of its sheath.
Big Two stepped forward.
Xu Hao saw the blade catch the light. He heard a short, wet sound.
The boar's head left its shoulders.
The body continued several paces before crashing into a bank of ferns. Soil sprayed across the path. The severed head rolled once, its tusks scoring the earth.
Then everything was quiet.
Big Two shook the blood from his sword. He checked that the animal was dead before looking over at Xu Hao. His next question contained the familiar word for hurt.
"No." Xu Hao tried to make his voice sound ordinary. "No, I'm not hurt."
He glanced at the enormous carcass.
The ease of it was worse than the blood. Big Two hadn't shouted, struggled or appeared to draw on any hidden power. One moment the boar had been charging. The next it had been cut apart as neatly as a piece of butcher's meat.
Big One examined the tusks, lifted one hind leg, and gestured towards the packs. Big Two refused.
Xu Hao understood the dispute: meat to carry, or daylight enough to reach camp.
Big One spread his arms to show the size of the boar. Big Two looked up the hill.
Big Two sighed.
A few minutes later, they were carrying the animal uphill between them.
"Right. Of course we're bringing it."
* * *
The climb ended when the afternoon light had turned the trunks copper.
They emerged onto a broad rise of reddish earth and scattered rock. The trees thinned. Wind crossed the open ground, cool against Xu Hao's damp shirt.
He took three steps, then stopped.
Forest filled the world.
It rolled over one ridge and another, dark green close by and blue where distance swallowed the details. Farther north, mountains rose behind a bank of clouds. He searched the valleys for smoke, a road, the straight line of a cultivated field.
Nothing.
Big Two inspected the ground for a shelter. Big One dropped the boar with a thud and began discussing dinner.
Above him, a shadow crossed the rock.
A bird circled high over the ridge, its wings broad enough to make the distance difficult to judge. It glided without beating them, tilted sideways, and vanished behind a mountain spur.
Big Two followed his gaze. He said a few calm words and pointed towards the distant peaks.
"More of them?" Xu Hao asked, making a circling motion. Big Two nodded.
"I see. A wonderful place for a holiday."
* * *
By the time the fire was lit, Xu Hao had washed his blister and found a stone that didn't hurt to sit on. Big One carved thick strips from the boar and set them over the coals. Fat hissed into the flames.
Big Two offered him the first portion. Xu Hao took it and watched the quiet giant settle by the fire, his sword within reach. He wondered how long a man could live without a proper conversation.
He could ask for water, complain about walking, and recognise a threat. He couldn't ask where they came from. He couldn't ask why they lived in the forest. He didn't even know their names.
Xu Hao touched his chest.
"Xu Hao," he said slowly. "My name. Xu Hao."
Both giants looked up.
He repeated it and pointed at himself.
"Xu Hao."
Big One tried. "Xu... Hao?"
"Yes!"
The giant slapped his broad chest so enthusiastically that his bowl jumped on the ground.
"Wang Da Bao!"
He pointed across the fire.
"Wang Er Bao."
Big Two inclined his head.
Xu Hao looked between them.
He knew enough of the language now to understand what he'd heard.
Da Bao. Big Treasure. Er Bao. Second Treasure.
He looked at the smaller, louder man and then at the much larger, quieter one.
"Da Bao," he repeated, pointing to Big One. "Er Bao," he said, indicating Big Two.
Both nodded.
Xu Hao started laughing.
Da Bao frowned and asked a question. Xu Hao wiped his eyes and did his best to explain, putting gestures around the words he couldn't remember.
"No names before. You—Big One." He pointed to Da Bao. "You—Big Two." He pointed at Er Bao and held his hands far apart to indicate his size.
Da Bao stared at him for one astonished moment.
Then he threw back his head and roared with laughter. Er Bao covered his face with one hand, though not quickly enough to hide his smile.
Xu Hao laughed with them until his sore ribs began to protest.
For the first time, he didn't have to guess whether they were laughing at the same thing.