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Rudi kept quiet, nonetheless; help with throttled rage was precisely what Edain needed. What had happened in Picabo wasn't going to leave him anytime soon, or easily. Instead he began another of the series of exercises; some of them reminded him of Aunt Judy's methods. Patience, patience…
But I too, want to boot some head, he thought, and sighed. And right now, I can't even try!
It was going to be a long winter.
He racked the staff; a man beckoned from the pathway outside.
"The most holy Rimpoche Tsewang Dorje would speak with you," the man said.
His face was schooled to calm, but the censorious blue eyes were obviously rather disapproving that his superior was wasting so much time with this young outland infidel.
Rudi bowed slightly, keeping the smile off his face. He was reminded of a saying of his mother; that a fanatic was a man who did what he knew in his heart the Gods would do… if only They had all the facts of the matter. And it was a pleasure simply to be able to walk properly again. He was breathing a little hard when they ascended a final flight of stairs, but it was infinite relief after his lead-limbed weakness of a few weeks ago.
"Come in, come in!" the old abbot's voice said.
The sanctum was… the phrase that sprang to Rudi's mind was pleasantly bare, even to eyes accustomed to the flamboyant Mackenzie style. There were scrolls on a rack against one wall, and books on another, and an image of a Bodhisattva in a niche. A low desk and a mat were the only other furniture, except for a compact metal heating unit and a cushion obviously there for Rudi's convenience. The old man bustled about pouring tea for his guest; Rudi had come to actually like it with the salty yak-butter added. And it certainly helped keep you warm in this upland winter, where your body burned fuel as a bonfire burned wood.
"Thank you for spending so much of your time with me," he said, when Dorje had seated himself again. "Though frankly, there's little I can do but talk at the present!"
Dorje gestured at his own body. "When you reach my age, my son, you will find that talking and thinking are the pleasures that do not fade… although silence is still greater, and more lasting. As for the time"-he shrugged-"there is little pressing business until spring. If the gods have given us time to pursue wisdom, it is prudent to use it. Refusing such a gift brings no fortune."
Rudi nodded, collecting his thoughts. "Teacher-"
Dorje held up a hand: "Please. You can teach someone how to grow barley-I have done so. Wisdom is another matter. Concerning that nothing can be taught, although the learner easily can be assisted to discover what is in himself. Other than which there is no knowledge of importance, except this: that what is in himself, is everywhere."
Rudi gri
"For if that which you seek, you find not within yourself, you will never find it without. For behold: I have been with you from the Begi
Dorje laughed delightedly. "Yes, a… how shall I put it… borrowing."
"Or could it be that all who make wheels, make them round," Rudi said, and they shared the joke. Then he sobered: "But someone… Someone… has been teaching the masters of the CUT, I think."
"Yes," the Rimpoche said soberly. "And they are become the most knowledgeable fools on all the earth. A certain poet-and he was no fool-bade men take the cash and let the credit go. I find this good advice, albeit difficult to follow. Nevertheless, it is easier than what those men attempt who seek the aid of Malevolence. They try to take the cash and let the debt go, and that is utterly impossible; for as we sow, we reap. Men who sell their souls invariably make a very bad bargain."
Rudi shivered a little, remembering the eyes and the dead hands squeezing his throat.
"I've had more to do with the gods since I started this trip than ever before in my life, but I know less than I did when I started out! The more I'm told, the less I understand!"
"And knowing that, you know more than you did," Dorje said. "There is a saying of my people: that around the virgin daughter of a king are guardian walls, and before the walls are fierce men. So is it wonderful that God should cause His secrets to be guarded by ferocity, and that of many kinds?"
"The other side seems to get more help!" Rudi said, baffled. "Not that I'd take that aid if it were offered on a golden plate. Why would anyone do that to themselves?"
Dorje made that expressive shrug. "Why do men steal, and violate, and kill when no need drives them? And the lusts of the body are as nothing to the unmastered cravings of the mind. Subdue the body, and still the lusts of the spirit may consume you like fire. Death pursues life. Is there anything without its opposite? Can light exist without shadow? So, I tell you that when you seek to do the will of the gods, and help men rise through the cycles, your very inmost thoughts awaken hosts of enemies that otherwise had slept. As sound awakens echoes, so the pursuit of wisdom awakens the devil's guard."
"As above, so below," Rudi said, and his face went grim. "I have to fight them, then. But… how, that's the question!"
"I ca
Hmmm, Rudi thought. That it has. Sort of an equal and opposite thing.
"And I have my friends," Rudi said; which was a comfort. "It's a lonely thing, having so much depend on you."
Dorje's chuckle was dry. "My son, when you have come to a decision between right and wrong, then act, not waiting on approval. If you do right it will add no virtue to the right that friends gave their assent beforehand. Be your own judge. But commit no trespass, remembering that where another's liberty begins your own inevitably meets its boundary."
"Can't we help each other, then?" Rudi said.
"Oh, most certainly! But though you strive in friendship, be that friendship as e
"Then I'd like to ask your help," Rudi said. "For my comrade Ingolf. He was a prisoner of the Cutters for a long while, and I think they… did things to him. To his mind. Things that leave him vulnerable."
"Ah," Dorje said, leaning forward slightly. "Tell me more. With this, we may be of assistance."
"Father…"
"Yes, my child?" Ignatius said, controlling his breathing and suppressing a stab of irritation.
He bowed to the monk with whom he'd been sparring and returned the practice sword to the wall. Edain was trying another fall with the instructor in unarmed combat-who was extremely good-and Odard, Ingolf, the twins and Fred Thurston were taking turns at sword-and-buckler. He judged his own condition clinically; he was fully recovered in strength and flexibility from their time in the mountains, but still a little behind in endurance. It would be hard to build that again while the snow kept them inside.
And I am still disturbed in spirit by the things which we saw with the Cutters, he knew. I must think and pray and meditate. But a soul in need is always a priest's task.
He sat on a bench, and Mathilda joined him. "I've been reading in their library here," she said. "And… it's a bit odd."
"What is?"
"It's odd how much of it seems, well, similar to what the Church teaches. Not the devas and whatevers and layers of being and Western Paradises and everything, but the stuff you're supposed to do, and what's good and bad."