The Sixth Discipline

by Carmen Webster Buxton

  ***

  After seven days of slow but steady running, Ran-Del finally sighted the Sansoussy Forest on the morning of the eighth day. He stepped up his pace as he moved into the cool familiar dimness. He was coming home, and the Sansoussy traveled light and fast.

  He wasn’t precisely certain where he was in relation to his village. The first creek he forded might have been any stream or rivulet. Finally, he saw a clan marker, a small twig from a lace palm wrapped with blue thread and pegged to a tree. He was in the territory of the Night Bat People, whose sign represented the blue twigs used in making that animal’s nest. He had entered the forest too far north, so he turned south and kept going.

  After a few hours, the forest began to take on the indefinable characteristics of the familiar. When saw his own clan marker, placed carefully near the path, he knew he was home. He had sighted a second marker when he sensed another presence ahead of him in the forest. He had become so used to being completely alone that it shocked him to feel another mind, even at a distance. Whoever it was stayed well ahead of him. Ran-Del kept going, not slowing his pace at all.

  When he came near his village, he again sensed a presence, but this time he knew quite well who it was. He slowed to a walk, waiting for his grandfather to reveal himself.

  Isayah stepped out from a clump of trees.

  Ran-Del stopped and bowed his head.

  Isayah took his time, as if he were looking Ran-Del over thoroughly, but finally he gave the traditional greeting.

  Ran-Del lifted his eyes and gave the reply, inspecting his grandfather as thoroughly as the older man had inspected him. Isayah looked hale enough but worried.

  “You look well,” Isayah said, “considering.”

  “Considering I was dead?”

  Isayah frowned in reproof. “Don’t joke about it, Ran-Del. It’s not at all funny.”

  “No, Grandfather, it’s not.”

  Isayah let out a reflective sigh. “I think I had best not embrace you, not in the state you’re in. I only hope your grandmother will show the same restraint, especially,” Isayah stared at Ran-Del’s chest, “when she sees those scars.”

  Ran-Del had to ask a question. “Did you know what had happened to me before Francesca called, Grandfather?”

  Isayah nodded. “Oh, yes. Father saw it clearly in his seeing, the day before your betrothal. Several days after your last visit to us, he let me glimpse that part of his vision, so that I’d be prepared for what was to come to you. ”

  Ran-Del had another question, one he would never mention to Francesca. “Did you know Stefan Hayden would be killed soon after we returned to Shangri-La, Grandfather?”

  His grandfather shook his head emphatically. “I didn’t, certainly. Your great-grandfather might have, but I doubt it. He told me he saw a great conflagration in the Hayden household. He suspected it meant death, but he didn’t understand what was burning or how to prevent the fire.” Isayah shook his head, not in denial but in distress. “Sometimes a seeing is like listening to a story teller when you have to leave the room from time to time. It can be difficult to make sense of the story.”

  Ran-Del pondered this as Isayah turned toward the village. Ran-Del fell in step beside him, walking close beside him but taking care not to touch his grandfather.

  “How is Grandmother?” Ran-Del asked.

  “She’s well,” Isayah said. “She’s busy now, because Bettine is near her time, and Mina has changed from using the girl as a servant to waiting on her hand and foot.”

  “And how is Great-grandfather?”

  Isayah was silent a moment, and when he spoke there was a catch in his voice. “He’s failing. The end could come any time for him. He’s very old, and these last few weeks, particularly, when he knew his vision had been fulfilled, he’s let himself slip away from us. I think he feels ready to die.”

  “I’m sorry, Grandfather,” Ran-Del said. “I know you love him very much.”

  His grandfather’s eyes looked very sad. “Do you love him, Ran-Del?”

  Ran-Del knew better than to lie. “I don’t know. I thought I did before the day he threatened to cast me out, but even then, I was always a little afraid of him. It’s hard to love someone you fear.”

  Isayah nodded. “That’s true. When I was small, I was afraid of him, also, but then he changed toward me, and I came to love him. When I was grown, I knew that he loved me.”

  He glanced at Ran-Del. “He saw himself in you, I think. It was a bitter disappointment to him to award you only one glass bead after your first Ordeal.”

  “My first Ordeal?” Ran-Del asked, taken aback. “Do you mean I’m to have another?”

  “Of course. That’s the first step. Before we can help you, we must know what we’re dealing with. It’ll be hard for you—much harder than the first time—but it must be done.”

  Ran-Del slowed his pace a little. “Just like Great-grandfather?”

  “Yes,” Isayah said.

  They had reached the outskirts of the village now, and were walking on the path through the houses. A few people called out to Ran-Del, welcoming him back. Ran-Del answered them but didn’t encourage anyone to chat. He was busy noticing the way different people’s minds intruded on his own when he got close, and a thought struck him.

  “Grandfather,” he said, “why is it that I don’t see your thoughts as I do so many others?”

  Isayah smiled. “Because I’ve learned the control provided by the Sixth Discipline. Once you learn it, we’ll be able to converse without words, as Father and I do. Until then, I’ll do my best to keep my thoughts to myself. I know it’s distressing at first.”

  “When I woke up in the hospital,” Ran-Del said, “I thought I was going insane.”

  “A psy gift can seem that way when one has no control over it.”

  They found Mina in her great room, just putting the kettle on. She opened another ceiling flap to let in more light, and then turned to greet Ran-Del, who waited, head bowed respectfully. She looked him over fondly but instead of giving him the usual greeting, she suddenly gave a cry of distress as she saw the still-new scar on his chest. She almost touched him then moved back and fluttered like a wounded day bat. “Those scars! What you must have suffered!”

  “It wasn’t that bad,” Ran-Del temporized. “They gave me drugs in the hospital that made me almost numb. And when those stopped, I could use the Disciplines.”

  Mina put her hand over her mouth. “Oh, and your poor head!” Ran-Del could feel her distress easily.

  “You sit down, too, Mina,” Isayah said. “I’ll make the tea.”

  He got the tea leaves from the canister and checked the water. It wasn’t boiling yet, so he sat down with them at the table.

  Mina was still distraught about Ran-Del’s injuries. “That old man!” she muttered. “He knew what would happen. He sent Ran-Del off to the slaughter in the hope he’d become more like him—with no warning, no word of caution! He might have been killed!”

  Ran-Del exchanged glances with his grandfather. His grandfather’s grave look told him Mina didn’t know the full truth about what had happened to him in the city.

  Isayah let Mina ramble on for a few minutes. When he got up to make the tea, he rested a hand on her shoulder.

  “What’s done is done, Mina. I trusted Father’s vision, as we all have in the past. If anyone has a complaint, it’s Ran-Del, and I don’t hear him saying anything.”

  Mina sniffed. Ran-Del’s heart was wrung by the familiar mannerism. It brought his childhood back, to sit here with his grandparents and watch Isayah gently bring Mina around to accepting Ji-Ran’s actions.

  “As if Ran-Del would complain,” Mina said.

  Isayah smiled but then he sat up straighter and looked attentive. “Father’s awake. He wants to see you, Ran-Del.”

  Mina’s mouth tightened into a hard, straight line, but Ran-Del slipped from his stool, excused himself, and started for the door.

  “He’s in his bedroom,” Isa
yah said. “He doesn’t get up much anymore.”

  Ran-Del hadn’t been in the shaman’s bedroom for a long time. From the day he had been hauled back to the home village of the Falling Water People, a shy and frightened child of ten seasons, he had almost always faced Ji-Ran Jahanpur in his great room.

  The curtain was across the doorway, so Ran-Del scratched politely and waited until Ji-Ran called for him to enter.

  His great-grandfather had made an effort and was sitting up in his bed. Ran-Del approached and waited respectfully. Ji-Ran took even longer than Isayah had to issue a greeting.

  “It’s good to see you at last, Ran-Del,” the shaman said. His voice was hoarse and scratchy but still strong. His chest rose and fell with noticeable effort.

  “It’s good to see you, Great-grandfather,” Ran-Del returned the greeting.

  Ji-Ran laughed his soundless laugh, his frail body shaking. “Is it? I’m dying. Tell me what the next world is like, Great-grandson. You’ve been there already. How many men can say that to their great-grandsons?”

  Ran-Del considered. No one had asked him this question. “I don’t remember it at all, except that I remember being cold.”

  “Sit,” Ji-Ran directed.

  Sansoussy beds were quite low to the ground, so Ran-Del had to sit on the floor to avoid having his own head higher than his shaman’s.

  Ji-Ran’s eyes watched him greedily as he moved. “You’ve recovered well from death. Your body has healed itself.”

  “Yes, Great-grandfather.”

  Ji-Ran scrutinized the scar across his chest. “I saw you die and rise again, but I didn’t understand how it was possible. What was it that cut your heart so cruelly? Your blood flowed like water on the stones of the bridge. It made Isayah weep to see it.”

  “It was a laser pistol,” Ran-Del said. “That’s a weapon that can make light sharp enough to cut through flesh and bone, and even steel.”

  Ji-Ran made a noise of disgust. “Why would anyone want such a weapon? Light exists to make plants grow, and to illuminate our path. What more is needed from it?”

  Ran-Del decided that the question was rhetorical and didn’t answer.

  Ji-Ran looked him over solemnly. “You’ve learned a lot about the city.”

  “Some,” Ran-Del said.

  “I don’t see hatred in your heart,” Ji-Ran said suddenly changing the subject. “Do you hate me for sending you to your death?”

  “I didn’t stay dead, Great-grandfather.”

  “That’s no answer,” Ji-Ran said impatiently.

  “I don’t hate you. I had realized before I came here that you must have seen what would happen to me, and what the effect would be. You must have thought it would be worth it.”

  Ji-Ran blinked and smiled a slow, broad smile. “It isn’t now, but it will be one day.” He leaned back against the wall and gave a deep, shuddering sigh. “I only wish I could see it. I wish I could confer with you as I do with Isayah, in the deep, direct dialog of the heart. But, it’s just as well, boy. With a gift such as yours, it’s just as well I’ll be gone before you learn to use it. I might not be able to keep you from seeing more, and sometimes it’s dangerous to know too much.”

  This monologue left Ran-Del perplexed. What could he see that would be dangerous? “Pardon, Great-grandfather?”

  Ji-Ran laughed again, not as soundlessly because he wheezed a little and then coughed. “I’ll be dead by tomorrow. Isayah knows. He hasn’t wanted to discuss it, but I’ve seen it in his mind.”

  Such absolute assurance nonplused Ran-Del. “I’m sorry, Great-grandfather,” was all he could think of to say.

  The old man’s eyes bored into him for a second, and then their light faded. “Don’t be sorry for me, boy. I’ve had a long, full life. I loved two women and several children, and I served my people well. What more can a man ask for from his life?”

  When Ran-Del didn’t answer, Ji-Ran waved his hand dismissively. “Go away, now. I’m tired, and I want to lie down.”

  Ran-Del stood up, uncertain what to do. He hesitated, and then he walked over to where his Great-grandfather sat and kissed the old man swiftly but gently on the cheek. Then he took one of Ji-Ran’s hands between his own in the Sansoussy gesture of farewell between kin. He was surprised by the lack of perception this contact brought, and he realized that even in his weakened state, Ji-Ran must have much greater mental control than his grandmother did.

  “Goodbye, Great-grandfather,” Ran-Del said.

  “Goodbye, Ran-Del,” Ji-Ran said softly. “I’m honored to have been your ancestor.”

  Stunned by the accolade, Ran-Del ducked out the door without saying anything more.