Heart of Defiance

by Ryan Kirk

  Delun nodded, glad the other monk finally understood his perspective.

  Kang’s face broke out in a wide smile. “Come, then. I know exactly who you need to meet.”

  13

  Bai looked around her room, her eyes resting on the small sack of belongings she possessed. Everything inside had been given to her by Lei and Daiyu, including the small sack. Their hospitality, especially considering her circumstances, was unbelievable. They generously furnished her with food and supplies, and if she rationed the food well, she suspected she could make it to a place where no one would look for her.

  She’d thought long and hard on Lei’s words to her. Somehow, he knew something about what happened in Galan. Something he refused to simply tell her. Given that he had fought off the monks for her and welcomed her into his village, she suspected that if he feared to tell her what he knew, there was good reason for it.

  Bai slipped her mother’s bracelet off her wrist and looked at it. It was her only true possession. She smiled sadly, knowing exactly what her mother would tell her to do right now.

  Leave.

  Hide.

  Build an existence somewhere far away, just as Daiyu had suggested when she brought the pack.

  Bai had been packed for a while now, but she made no move to leave. If she waited much longer, she’d have to stay overnight. More than once she’d picked up the bag and walked to the door, but that was as far as she’d made it.

  Doubt gnawed at the edges of her mind. She hated all of this. She hated the burden of choice. If she left, she could hide, but she would never know what happened. Then she thought of Lei’s words, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

  She couldn’t will her feet to move, no matter how much she ordered them too.

  A knock on the door startled her. She hadn’t been expecting company.

  “Come in.”

  The door opened and Hien stepped into the room. She looked down at the sack and then at Bai. “So, you are leaving.”

  The warrior made no attempt to disguise the disappointment in her voice, and Bai felt suddenly very selfish. This woman had risked her life to bring Bai to a place of safety. Bai was spitting in her face by leaving again so soon. She hung her head in shame.

  “Want to take a walk? Get out of this room?”

  Bai shook her head. If she didn’t leave soon, she worried she would remain forever.

  Hien, however, didn’t see it that way. “There isn’t much difference between leaving today and tomorrow, if it gets that late. Anyhow, wouldn’t you rather sleep in a warm, comfortable bed for one more night?”

  Hien’s argument was compelling. And the woman had risked everything for her. Without her, Bai would still be imprisoned, suffering indignities at Wen’s hands. She owed the woman more than she could repay. Reluctantly, she agreed.

  Since waking up, she hadn’t been much out of her room. She’d found Daiyu after she made her decision to leave. Daiyu, unsurprisingly, had been pleased by Bai’s choice and agreed to put together everything she needed. The sack appeared shortly thereafter, almost as though Daiyu was ready for Bai to leave already.

  Hien led Bai into the village. They walked for a few minutes in silence, Bai taking in the sights and sounds of village life. In some ways, it reminded her of Galan. People went about their daily work. Some young children played in the street under the watchful eyes of their mothers.

  There were differences, too. Everyone greeted one another kindly. No one stood on streets to beg or sell their wares. As near as Bai could tell, there was no market. She wondered a little at this but held her tongue. Galan wasn’t large, but it held far more people than this village. She’d never been someplace so small.

  The spaces between the buildings were often too narrow for a proper road, and most people walked on well-worn dirt and stone trails. Because there weren’t roads, the smells of spring embraced them. Mountain wildflowers bloomed next to walking paths, and Bai paused at a few to deeply inhale the sweet scents of the plants.

  Overall, the village felt like the most peaceful place Bai had ever been. Considering her whole life to that point had been spent in either Galan or Kulat, she supposed it wasn’t that much of a claim. Still, it hardly seemed like the center of rebel activity that it was made out to be.

  “What’s on your mind?” Hien asked.

  “This place isn’t what I expected.”

  Hien grinned a little at that. “Yeah, we hear that a lot from new visitors. As you might guess, the monasteries don’t really like Lei, so they spread rumors about us.”

  Bai couldn’t help but ask the question directly. “But aren’t you rebels?”

  Hien shrugged. “I suppose it depends on who you ask and what you mean. We don’t live under the protection or laws of the empire, so maybe we are. But, for the most part, we also don’t interfere with affairs down below. We mostly keep to ourselves, which is why we’re here in the first place.”

  “You rescued me,” Bai pointed out.

  “And Daiyu has lectured me plenty about that,” Hien retorted. “We aren’t completely isolated. I couldn’t sit still in this village for more than a week or two without losing my mind, but I still call it home. Lei often asks me to keep an eye on happenings in the empire. I’m not sure that he’d ever come down himself, but he worries constantly.”

  Bai digested that information, wondering what to make of it.

  “Do you want to know something interesting?”

  Bai did.

  “Your name. I knew another Bai, a long time ago. In many ways, she’s the reason I’m here. I’m not much for superstition or fate, but your presence here, it makes me think there’s a larger order to things.”

  “Who was she?”

  Hien paused and stared off into the distance for a moment. “Lei had a brother once, a man named Jian. He was a monk. I worked with him once in Jihan. It was the work that eventually led to him being murdered. But he was in love with a woman named Bai. She worked at a brothel in Jihan and I helped her escape to a sanctuary.”

  Her voice was terse, but Bai felt the emotion behind it. “That’s how you met Lei?”

  Hien shook her head. “No, that didn’t come until much later.”

  “How did saving the other Bai lead you here?”

  Bai could see that Hien was lost in the vast corridors of her past. “When I was younger, I only looked out for myself. I discovered I was good at killing when I was pretty young. When I took Bai to the sanctuary, it was the first time I’d done something because I thought I should, not because I was getting paid for it.

  “Eventually, I found myself doing that more and more. That was what led me to Lei, but that’s a story for another time. It’s enough to say that I helped him create this little village, even though he did most of the work.”

  Bai was dying to ask questions, but Hien was clearly in no mood to answer them.

  “I didn’t visit you to talk about myself. You’re planning on leaving, on finding someplace to hide?”

  Bai couldn’t convince herself to say the words out loud. She nodded, feeling the blood rush to her cheeks in shame.

  Hien’s voice was soft. “I don’t blame you, you know.”

  Bai looked up, surprised.

  “Hiding seems easier, a lot of the time. Most of the people here are hiding in one way or another. I am, too, if I’m honest. But you can’t hide here. Here you’d be forced to search for answers and find the truth. If you want to hide, you need to run.”

  Bai hadn’t expected such understanding from Hien. She seemed too strong to understand such concerns.

  “I’d ask you to reconsider,” Hien said.

  Bai actually took a step back, surprised by Hien’s forthrightness. “Why?”

  “Because, although our circumstances are very different, I’ve been where you are.”

  They paused at a small garden. Bai could feel Hien’s need to tell her story. She gave Hien the silence and time she needed.

  “I was kick
ed out of my home when I was fourteen,” Hien confessed. “My parents loved me, I think, but they couldn’t live with who I was. They forced me to leave the home and ordered me never to return. I spent some time on the streets of Jihan, which wasn’t a good time. I made a lot of mistakes and got hurt. That was when I killed my first man and realized it didn’t bother me.”

  Bai stared at Hien. Again, her statements were short and terse, but they masked an ocean’s worth of emotion. Her heart went out to the other woman, but she also knew Hien would accept no comfort.

  “I spent years in hiding. All sorts of people were looking for me. Criminals, jealous lovers, you name it. I left destruction wherever I went.”

  Hien paused as she kneeled down to look at a new blooming flower. “I moved around, every couple of weeks at most. I was good at hiding, at blending in to new places. But, Bai, it’s hard. You’re always looking over your shoulder, no matter how safe you think you are. Your past is always haunting you. Living in hiding is no way to live. Even now, up here, protected by Lei, I wake up in the middle of the night worried that someone is outside my window, hunting me.”

  Bai struggled to believe that claim. Up here?

  Hien noticed her expression. “I really upset some people, Bai. It’s not out of the question. That’s part of the reason why my heart breaks for you. No one knows for sure what happened down in Galan, but if anyone can help you find the answers, it’s Lei. He’s one of the best men I’ve ever known, and I think you’ve figured out he knows something. You don’t have to live your life in hiding.”

  Hien’s shoulders relaxed a little, as though she had finally let go of the burden she’d been carrying for too long.

  The words hit Bai like sledgehammers to the stomach. Not just because she suspected that Hien was right. Because there was someone here, someone who barely knew her, who cared this much about what happened to her. Mother had cared, in her own way, but not like this.

  “I’m scared,” Bai admitted.

  Hien nodded. “There’s nothing wrong with being afraid. But if you give in to fear today, you’ll give in to it tomorrow, and the day after that. I won’t tell you staying is the easiest path. But it is the better one.”

  They stopped outside of a building and Hien gestured to the ladder leading to the third level. “Care to come into my house?”

  Bai’s curiosity was overwhelming. She followed Hien up the ladder to a balcony that overlooked the village. The sun was starting to set, casting long shadows that made the houses look like giants. They admired the view for a few moments, then Hien led them into the small room.

  Bai hadn’t been sure what she’d expected, but Hien’s place didn’t seem much like Hien. Scrolls and artwork hung from the walls, and a kettle of water was boiling over the fire. Another woman was in the room, folding clothes. Hien introduced her as Ling.

  Hien took her over to a small dresser, where a comb sat. Hien picked up the comb with reverence and handed it over to Bai. “This was a gift given to me by the Bai I was telling you about.”

  The comb itself was unremarkable. Only Hien’s attitude toward it marked it as something of value.

  “Do you know what I think about when I pick up this comb?”

  Bai shook her head.

  “It’s been over twenty years since I helped the other Bai. I haven’t kept track of her, but I know that for twenty years, she’s been free, thanks to a decision I made. I would like to think she’s done something with her life—maybe helped someone else out, or made a name for herself. Or maybe she’s just been able to live a life of normalcy, starting a family with a man who cares for her.

  “I know it’s tempting to make the easy decision today. But if you make the hard one, who knows what possibilities await? If you run, you’ll be hiding until you die, and I’d hate to know that was the path you chose to take.”

  Bai finally broke down, the last of her flimsy barriers collapsing. She held up her hands in surrender. “Fine, I’ll stay, at least for a while.”

  “That makes one of you,” Ling said, her voice bitter.

  Bai looked at Hien, a question in her gaze.

  Hien gave a short sigh. “Lei is worried about the monastery at Kulat. He’s asked me to go observe, to see what I can find out.”

  Bai couldn’t help it. She laughed.

  “What’s funny?” Hien asked.

  “You’ve spent all this time convincing me to stay while you’re planning on leaving.”

  Hien rolled her eyes. “I’m coming back, within a week or two at most.”

  Eventually Bai’s laughter faded. She felt good, better than she had in a long while. When had she last laughed?

  “I’ll let Lei know you decided to stay,” Hien said. “He’ll probably want to start training sometime soon.”

  Bai’s lightheartedness faded instantly. She thought immediately of the fact that she was in a rebel village. “Training?”

  Hien’s smile fell. “He didn’t tell you?”

  Bai shook her head. She had no idea what Hien was talking about.

  Hien looked uncertain, like she’d said too much. She met Bai’s gaze.

  “Bai, Lei thinks you’re gifted.”

  14

  The carriage ride back to Kulat was more pleasant than the trip to Galan had been. Kang, who had once been so stingy with his words, now spoke freely. Delun got the impression that he had passed some sort of test with the big monk. Unfortunately, Kang’s topics of conversation were somewhat limited.

  Kang loved to talk about training.

  After making sure the elder of Galan was very clear they expected word of any news, Kang and Delun had the horses saddled and got on the road. Since then, Delun had debated diet, exercise regimens, mental techniques, and even morning routines with Kang. The man’s fascination with training seemed deeper than an ocean.

  Delun was fascinated by Kang’s obsession. It wasn’t that he didn’t have some interest in Kang’s views. Like any monk who sought to improve his skills, he was always open to learning new techniques and practices. But the monasteries had been around for over three hundred years, and Delun was fairly certain that in that time every possible variation of training had been experimented with. The techniques widely used were used because they worked.

  A few major training systems had developed over the centuries. Delun would describe Kang’s as pushing until the breaking point, day after day. It was, unfortunately, a fairly common system. The practice could create strong warriors. Delun had met a few in his travels, and Kang was certainly among the strongest monks he’d ever met. If not supervised properly, though, it could destroy a warrior. Fortunately, most abbots who supervised such training knew just how far they could push their students. Kang’s abbot seemed to know exactly what he was doing.

  Occasionally, Delun attempted to steer the conversation to other topics, but Kang kept asking him questions about his own training, surely disappointed in the answers. Delun believed in the practice of consistency. He never trained as hard as Kang, but he also never missed a day of practice, no matter where life took him.

  Eventually, Delun gave up trying to discover anything useful about the situation in Kulat from Kang and enjoyed the scenery as he traded training tips with Kang. It wasn’t terribly difficult. Kang was nothing if not sincere, and Delun often developed a bond with those who practiced their craft with deliberate care.

  When they arrived at the outskirts of Kulat, Delun asked the carriage driver to stop. They got out of the carriage and Delun had the driver ferry his limited supplies to the monastery. The driver bowed and took off deeper into town.

  Kang looked at Delun, curiosity in his eyes. Delun had offered to let the man ride the carriage all the way, but Kang had elected to remain with his new friend.

  Delun gestured at the town. “I like to get a sense of a place before I begin working there. Different towns have different flavors, different practices that offend. One can’t experience a place without slowing down, which is exactly what
I intend to do.”

  Kang gave Delun a look that implied the older monk had lost his mind, but said nothing. Youth was wasted on the young, Delun figured.

  They made their way into town. It didn’t take Delun long to decide Kulat was far different than most towns he’d been in.

  The white robes of a monk were always conspicuous, and people everywhere reacted in different ways. Some reacted with awe and respect, as they should. Others cowered in various degrees of fear. Such reactions weren’t ideal, but they would do. In Kulat, Delun saw little of either reaction. Instead, he saw anger. A lot of it.

  His instinct was to ask Kang, but knew that was foolish. From the look on his new friend’s face, he didn’t even recognize the glares he was getting. Either he was completely oblivious or had lived with them for so long he had gotten used to them. Neither boded well for Delun’s work.

  Kang led the way to the monastery while Delun continued to observe. He saw plenty of black looks. A few women hugged their children closer, and a few particularly bold men spit on the street where he and Kang had just passed. In other towns, Delun might have done something about the open disrespect, but here he feared he would start an incident. The problems in this town went deeper than just the Golden Leaf.

  Eventually they approached the tall white walls of the monastery. Kulat had grown up right around the monastery walls, something Delun was seeing more and more of. Hundreds of years ago, most monasteries had been founded well outside of towns and cities. The separation was considered beneficial for both the monks and the civilians. But the population of the empire had grown, and more monasteries were being swallowed by towns. Not for the first time, Delun was grateful his own monastery sat high in the mountains, far removed from such a fate.

  Their robes gained them easy admittance to the gate and Delun passed into another world.

  Immediately he felt his body relax. In his travels, he had been to dozens of monasteries. All of them differed, of course, but there was an air about them that was constant and refreshing. In the monasteries, discipline and order ruled. Here, the course of the empire was maintained.