by Scott Rhine
Gallatin shuddered. The other two continued to hold the large paving stone, the last of the five man-summoners, while the smith chipped away at it with the partial sword like an enraged lumberjack. The smith saw flashes of the desert and a white road leading into the sunset.
As they worked, the sound of the army at the back of the island rose in volume. The lookout climbed down from his perch, waiting to choose sides at the right moment. The bodyguard, far from dead, was still bleeding profusely. The lookout stemmed the flow and tied a makeshift bandage in place. The wounded man seemed to lapse into restful sleep at the act of compassion. The slaver cursed in several languages, telling his strongest man to hurry.
“How the blazes did Tashi do this so fast?” asked Gallatin.
“He was the sword’s true bearer,” answered the smith.
“Bdoesn’t what he said before leaving make you the bearer now?” Gallatin wondered.
The smith considered this legality and reared back for the mightiest blow he could strike. He swung with all his weight, and shards splintered off into the air. The others dropped the paving stone to shield their eyes. When the back of the stone fell across Gallatin’s bow, the fissure propagated all the way through, and the fossil split. “New money,” said the smith.
His bow broken, Gallatin sighed, “It was fate’s way of telling me to grow grapes again. Just think of the vineyards that bell will buy.” He pointed to the rubble where the arch used to be.
The smith shook his head. “We won’t have time. No amount of money is worth getting killed for.”
Sulandhurka drew his own blade. “On that, laddie, we disagree. For enough money, I’ll risk anything.” The two mercenaries were preparing to battle each other for leadership of the small band when the lookout stepped from the shadows with his arms raised.
The others gave their undivided attention to the only enemy left standing in the compound. “I can get you out of here with your bell if you take me with you as a full partner. The Lady of the Deep will not be pleased when she finds her lover slain and learns that I did nothing to save him. On the other side of the coin, you’ll never make it a league carrying that load unless we go together. I have an idea that may save us all and make us rich.”
The decision took less than three heartbeats. Sulandhurka grinned wolfishly. “You’ll have to join the Brotherhood and be under my command.”
When their new ally agreed, Gallatin said, “He can have the shirt from my uniform.”
“Later,” said the lookout. “The troops will be back here at any moment. You have just enough time to get the bell into that wheelbarrow. I’ll take Lord Kragen’s signet ring. Then, you hide in the garden while I send the scouts out the front gate. Once they’re gone, I’ll lead you to a spirit-proof boat. Next, we row the boat to the port south of here.”
Sulandhurka was already two steps ahead. “Yes, we claim to be messengers from Kragen himself. Then we use his people to escort us safely to the stronghold of the Brotherhood. I like you; what did you say your name was?”
“Bunji,” said the lookout.
The slaver shook his head. “They’ll be looking for a deserter by that name. You must have a new one. How about Hon Li? I’ve been looking for a new lieutenant.”
While this exchange was going on, the smith gathered all the fragments of the Sword of Miracles he could find. As he wrapped the hilt in oilcloth, he noted the number and insignia on the Honor—number one of the Imperial set. This was the legendary Defender of the Realm, the magic blade carried by Emperor Myron’s chief guard! The smith told no one else of his find, smearing the symbol with mud lest anyone else take note. This sword was worth more than the bell, and he was officially its bearer.
****
Inside the garden, time passed at a different rate, unhurried by the outside world. A carved, ivory fountain trickled musically as they passed. Once the giant reached the center of the garden, he stood beside a knee-high shrine, a miniature model of the temple. Reaching the proper location, the giant continued their ritual. “Who art u?”
Squaring his shoulders, Tashi said, “My path has led through fog and fire, blood and broken miracles to reach this place.”
The giant was unimpressed, cutting him off. Deviating from the ritual, the voice wasn’t so loud and formal, but it rumbled like thunder nonetheless. “I don’t listen to children’s riddles from killers.”
Defending himself, Tashi argued, “They were criminals who slew a simple innkeeper who was under the protection of the Order.”
The giant dismissed him again as inconsequential. “Nothing is simple. Who are you who can see into the hearts of men and judge them?”
The accusation sent an arrow of doubt into Tashi’s side. He almost didn’t respond. When he did, it wasn’t with the pride he had intended. “I am the High Sheriff of Tamarind Pass. I saw their stains. According to the ancient Laws, I passed sentence on them and meted out their punishment.”
When the sheriff did not continue the ritual, the giant seemed content to exploit this weakness. “Then you admit your guilt.”
At the final word, emotions coursed through Tashi like a river. This giant could indeed see every hidden corner of a man’s soul. “I will not dissemble or hide behind my lack of memory. One does not attain my rank without slaying at least ten men in combat. I’m far from innocent.” He paused, bearing up against the crushing weight of his own past. “Yet since finding the Way, I have changed.”
“Indeed,” the giant mocked. “Now you kill for better reasons. Begone. Only a pure being may come to me for a boon.”
This seemed to sting Tashi into determined resolve. “Your pardon, but the pure are otherwise occupied at the moment. I’m all that remains. But I seek you for a far older tradition. I’ll fight you for the favor.”
The giant smiled, amused for the first time in many cycles. “What weapon choosest thou?” The ritual continued.
Closing his eyes, the sheriff began his calming exercises, centering on his own breathing. He removed his boots and stood barefoot on the center stone of the garden. It was cool and strong, and felt like the top of a mountain. “You know as well as I do that there are no weapons allowed in this holy place. I face you with my own hands and feet. I will face you with all the creator gave me at birth.” The words were important, and Tashi was pleased with himself for remembering them all. He couldn’t trust his memory often. But this once, he hadn’t been betrayed.
The giant was further amused by his hubris. “One who is wise in his own eyes cannot see properly. What is thy prize?”
“To become Abbot of the Spirit Temple, this monastery, with all that entails.”
The giant laughed. “He has pride and greed. Can one mortal hold two such offices?”
“If that man proves himself worthy and no one else makes the claim. You have heard with your own ears that no one else on this island rejects my claim or offers themselves in my stead,” said Tashi, explaining the legalities as much for his own confidence as for the giant.
“What of the robed ones in the courtyard?”
Tashi temporized, not wanting to go into detailed history lessons when his own grasp was faulty at best. “Theye part of a heretic sect that uses its powers to rule men against their will.”
“You would use your position to eliminate this sect?” the giant asked.
“I would eliminate all the sects,” the sheriff admitted.
“An unusual tenet for a high priest,” said the giant, raising an eyebrow.
Tashi grew uneasy in such artificially casual conversation and snapped, “They’ve all been too corrupt for too long. Now, are you going to honor the ritual or not?”
“Knowest thou the penalty for losing?”
Tashi exhaled in another cleansing breath and took the official stance proscribed by the ritual. “I have been so instructed. I am at peace. How say you? Do you accept my challenge?”
“I accept thy challenge,” said the giant, straightening.
As so
on as the words were spoken, Tashi leapt into what could be termed a screaming, full-body leg-sweep. The creature avoided him effortlessly and the sheriff landed on his feet on the other side in a mirror image of his previous stance. Hoping for surprise, he was hampered by the fact that he had never faced an actual giant before, only Imperials a full foot taller than himself. Despite his excellent training, all he had to go on was theory and maneuvers learned from the ancient books. But not all knowledge came from the holy books, and not all who set out to expand the lore returned. The giant had broken many humans in his grip.
“Not so fast,” the giant rumbled. “This might take the rest of the day. We move on a different scale than your lot. I’ve been watching mountains move for decades, so I may need a while to warm up.”
The duel became more of a dance than a fight. It started slowly with the “seed unfolding”, a sequence demonstrating phenomenal patience and bodily control. Tashi followed all thirteen forms, performing the block for each. When he reached the finale called the “grand stretch”, his arms were at full extension to stop potential blows from his opponent’s arms. Tashi was already moving toward the next pivot in the sequence when the giant broke form and turned the wrong way. A great foot lashed out at the sheriff’s chin. He heard the wind rush before he saw the limb grow toward him. The giant’s leg couldn’t possibly reach that far. But it was happening. The tempo changed. Tashi saw moments fall like grains of sand.
His mind froze at the impossibility, but his body was already leaping full into “the wave crashing”. Rolling with a pole-ax blow had saved his life before. The blow had been intended to snap his neck; instead, he managed to take the force of the blow on his left pectoral muscle. An inch lower would have stopped his heart. The chainmail armor helped to blunt the fury, but ribs bent like green sticks. Airborne, most of the remaining energy converted into sideways flight. Nonetheless, he saw stars and couldn’t breathe for several heartbeats.
Great sunflower stalks snapped beneath him. His sight narrowed to a tight spot in the clouds and threatened to fade altogether. Flow. The wave rolled him. With what little control he had left, Tashi tucked, folded, and continued to tumble through the rich-smelling loam on the other side of the flowers until the force spent itself. His tunic ripped and mud caked his body.
Tashi focused on breathing as he watched a worm inches from his nose begin to repair the rutted soil. Bees hummed lazily in the distance, encouraging him to sleep. But the salty sting of blood in his mouth argued against it.
“Ouch,” complained the giant, bending to rub the tender bottom of his right foot. “You have armor. That’s hardly sporting.”
Out of sight, Tashi rolled into a narrow irrigation ditch. The cold of the water and the pain of his bruised ribs choked a muffled cry from the veteran fighter. Now the giant knew he was still alive and awake. Tashi relaxed his hold and floated with the gentle stream like a dandelion seed on the wind. I am the wave. His progress halted a short distance away, when the stream grew too shallow. He lay atop a pile of smooth, dark-green stones from a jade statue shattered ages ago. Almost without volition, he grabbed a pebble in his right hand and stroked it to aid concentration.
Meanwhile, the enormous guardian moved with remarkable stealth through thick foliage to track the mortal’s wake through the brush. Tashi found it easier to locate his opponent by pinpointing where the ambient sounds like the fountain were not. The zone of silence moved through the underbrush toward the irrigation ditch. Tashi eased gently onto land again, trying to match the quiet grace of his opponent.
Now that he had been granted some tactical breathing space, the sheriff tried to shift his planning to the offensive once again. Thanks to his previous mistake, he knew exactly how far the guardian could reach. How could he get inside that span? Tashi rubbed the stone. He had to use the garden to his advantage. Unfortunately, the giant who lived here would know every rock and tree better than he could ever hope to. Perhaps something ephemeral enough would escape his notice, something new in the last few years. Yes.
He followed his ears, keeping clear of the giant. Even so, the quiet was circling closer. Seeing what he needed on the other side of a clearing, Tashi dashed at full speed, making a terrible racket. He heard the thrashing of his pursuer over the loud pounding of his own heart. Stifling his breathing, he grasped a low vine and used it to swing himself to cover behind the desired tree just before the giant arrived.
Slowly, the guardian crept across the clearing, extending his awareness, smelling for the sweat of his prey. For a moment, neither combatant moved. The giant took a single step. On his next, he would detect the human hiding below. Tashi threw the smooth stone at the beehive on a branch high above. The sound and motion triggered the giant’s reflexes. A mighty hand shot out and the hive burst apart. The ruptured hive pieces hung for a sick moment as the giant realized what he had done.
Angry bees poured out of every fragment to swarm around the offender’s head. A few buzzing insects got as far as Tashi, but his lack of threatening motion, plus his clothing and mud layers, helped deter them. The sheriff centered himself while all about him chaos teemed. He was the calm in the eye of the storm. He was the strength of the mountain, more than “the Boulder in the Farmer’s Field”.
As the giant used both arms above his head to swat the bees away, the guardian’s attention was distracted. In that flicker of an eye, Tashi leapt forward, his years of training focused on a single, desperate maneuver. Before the giant could notice him and react, Tashi had landed on its foot. As soon as the titan widened its stance and bent over a little to see his opponent, Tashi put all of his trance-enhanced weight behind the force of his own elbow, and buckled the giant’s other knee from behind. This maneuver toppled the guardian onto its haunches, with arms spread to maintain balance. Then Tashi slammed his forehead into the lower-chest region, equating to the solar plexus of a mere human being. This tactic knocked the giant onto its back, with the sheriff on top.
Recovering from the rude blow, the giant attempted to sit again, but couldn’t because of Tashi’s enhanced weight. “You have a very hard head,” commented the guardian.
Bees darted around them both. Balanced on the edge of victory and defeat, both combatants ignored them.
“Yield,” Tashi grunted, wincing with the effort to keep this titan down. Dizzy, the sheriff struggled to stay conscious. But he held his position.
“Thou hast proven thy training. The office is thine,” intoned the giant. “Receive thee the Book of History.”
Tashi climbed down. This allowed the giant time to calm the beehive and dust himself off. The two walked back to the center of the garden and the shrine. Opening the top of the shrine the way a man would open a wooden chest, the guardian handed Tashi a huge tome, the journal where all the abbots of the temple had recorded their secrets. Setting the huge book back on the pedestal of the shrine so it would not be soiled, the sheriff turned to the first page. Although he could not read the language, words poured into his mind like a flood. Every entry from every master of the island echoed in the author’s own voice.
When it was finished, Tashi found himself lying on his back in the white lotus flowers. Sitting up, he noticed that the pages were now all blank. They would remain empty until he wrote on them, or until his death. Then, the next abbot would become the next link in this chain of history. How had he known that? The book had told him! Tashi had gone from no memory to many, very confusing voices from the past. When he saw the giant standing over him, the sheriff realized, “The book says that I can give you one order.”
“Once per lifetime, the Lord Abbot may command me to do any one thing within my power. Use this gift wisely,” the giant urged.
Tashi stood and proclaimed, “Guardian of the Shrine, I command you to answer one question from me completely, to the best of your ability, with no equivocation or avoidance, and in a way that I will comprehend,” he ordered.
“Regretfully, this will depend on the question,” explai
ned the giant, sounding more legalistic than Jotham at his worst. “I am constrained in many things in my dealings with your kind. Ask.”
“Where can I find the Answer?”
A silence hung in the air between them. The giant struggled for a way out of his obligation. “So that there will be no confusion, to what Answer do you refer?”
Tashi glared at the giant, narrowing his eyes. “You can read my thoughts, so you know exactly who I mean. But for the record, the being we know as the Traveler shut himself off from mankind forty-nine years ago: seven cycles. Since that decision, no one has ever succeeded in reaching him, except one. During the uprising against the temples three cycles ago, some desperate priests in the north sent a boy to Calligrose asking him why. This boy came back with a prophecy that changed the North Temple forever. Since his reply, no one has come back from that place. No one, that is, except the Answer. He is still alive and has not returned to any temple. This much we know. Where can we find him?”
Still, the giant evaded him. “Why do you wish to disturb this soul?”
Tashi lost patience. “To find out what the Traveler told him, what he said to the priests of the North Temple, the explanation every human in the world has been longing to hear.”
The giant’s demeanor saddened. “Which of the three do you need? For they are not one and the same message.”
“This is equivocating and you are violating your oath!” charged the sheriff.
“I have not yet agreed to answer, foolish mortal,” the guardian chided. “There is no limit to the time I may take to decide, either.”
Tashi restored his inner peace by greeting the sun while the giant pondered, hoping to break the man’s pride and impatience. When the sheriff seemed unlikely to apologize, the giant said, “Your question is flawed on several levels. But I must be circumspect. Have you ever considered what the one you call the Traveler wants?”