Heart of Defiance

by Ryan Kirk

  The monastery in Kulat was yet another blend of comforting similarity and striking difference. Though the day was late, the monks still stood in rows, practicing their forms together. Delun glanced at their technique. Most monasteries maintained high standards, and this one was no different. In fact, as he watched, he realized the technique of most of the monks was nearly flawless. Punches were sharp, and no monk trained with less than complete focus.

  Delun stopped, impressed. He nodded at the man at the head of the group. “Is that your abbot?”

  Kang’s admiration was evident. “Yes. That is Guanyu.”

  “He’s an excellent master.”

  “I agree. It was the quality of his teaching that brought many of us here.”

  Delun frowned, a thought occurring to him. There were a lot of monks here. Too many, actually. Kulat was a town of a few thousand people, based on the last census. The monastery shouldn’t have more than a dozen monks. Delun supposed if they were drawing from the surrounding area that number might bump up to twenty, but surely no more.

  A quick glance told him almost fifty monks trained within these walls. That made it almost as large as the monastery in Jihan, the largest in the empire. For a small town in the middle of the sparsely populated western empire, that made little sense. Delun almost asked Kang, but that was perhaps another question for the abbot.

  The abbot spotted them and finished instructing the form. Then he bowed to Kang. Without a word passing between them, Kang stepped up and took the role of teacher as the abbot came and joined Delun.

  The abbot bowed. “You must be Delun. My name is Guanyu, and I am the abbot here in Kulat. Taio told me to expect your coming, but I expected you several days ago.”

  Delun bowed, slightly deeper than the abbot, to show him the proper respect. “I am. On the way, I came across Kang and we traveled to Galan together.”

  “Ahh,” the abbot said. “And were you able to uncover what happened there?”

  Delun shook his head. “No. The situation in this region is far more complex than I was led to believe. Also, I am sorry. I understand that you lost two monks to the attack.”

  The abbot’s face darkened. “One was an old fool I was happily rid of, but another was young and strong. He believed in our cause, and had a bright future ahead of him. He’ll be sorely missed.”

  Delun caught the abbot’s turn of phrase. “Your cause?”

  The abbot gave a grim smile. “Are you a student of history, Delun?”

  “Not particularly. I know more than most, but I’ve always had my focus set tightly on the present.”

  “A worthy goal. But history has much to teach us. Do you know how empires crumble?”

  Delun had to admit he did not.

  “There’s more than one danger, unfortunately, but the one that concerns me most is the danger of the frontiers, the places empires pay too little attention to. Perhaps a piece of land is lost here, or a village rebels there. No single incident is large enough to attract the empire’s attention. But piece by piece the empire falls away, doomed even before it is aware of the threat.”

  “You worry about that here?”

  “Constantly. We are not a populated area, nor do we create much wealth. The people here tolerate the rule of the empire, but they don’t embrace it. It is a different, far less civilized world out here. Is this your first visit west?”

  “This far, yes.”

  “I won’t belabor the point. The nearest lord is two week’s march away at best. There are no city guards in most towns, and crime and justice are handled by the people themselves, with predictable results. The strong succeed and the weak do not. Your average citizen here farms, traps, hunts, and has built his own house. There is a terrible streak of independence that exists among the people here, a pride in being able to take care of oneself.”

  Delun thought of the elder at Galan, who had chafed against their requests. At the time, Delun hadn’t understood. The monks were here to help. Now he saw the other side—a man who believed his town could get along just fine without help, even if it came from someone as strong as a monk.

  “Is that why you have so many monks training here? I’m surprised, both by the number and by their quality.”

  Guanyu gave a small nod of acknowledgment. “I believe that the monasteries are here to protect the empire, to improve the lives of the people. We need to be strong to do so, and we need to maintain justice with an iron fist.”

  Delun couldn’t help but be impressed. Guanyu seemed exactly the type of leader they needed more of. “I agree. As you know, I’m here to track down rumors of this Golden Leaf. Do you know anything?”

  The abbot shook his head. “All I’ve heard are rumors. We’ve investigated, but if they exist and they are here, they are very well hidden. Personally, I suspect whoever is running them is a cunning foe. Their moves are subtle, based more in propaganda and lies than in violence. They seek to turn the people, and the empire itself, away from the monasteries.”

  Delun nodded thoughtfully. He’d wondered if perhaps that had something to do with the less than warm welcome he’d received in Kulat. Perhaps that reaction was due to the Golden Leaf. Guanyu certainly seemed to have his work cut out for him here. “Do you think they had something to do with Galan? Perhaps they staged the destruction, or had help?”

  The abbot stared sharply at him. “You mean Lei?”

  “Yes.”

  “You ran into him?”

  “Kang and I attempted attacking him together.” Delun didn’t care to discuss the results.

  Guanyu shook his head. “He’s always stronger than we think he is.” Focusing on the discussion at hand, he said, “Of course, it’s a possibility, but personally, I doubt it. Lei is a thorn in my side I can’t remove, but I do believe that all he wants is to be left alone. I have a hard time believing he would do such a thing.”

  “The power was incredible in Galan, and the only surviving witness retreated into the mountains.”

  The abbot considered it. “I would like to pin the blame on Lei, but I’m not convinced. He’s lived in those mountains for decades now, and he’s never done anything like this. I could be wrong, but until there’s evidence, I can’t say.”

  Delun accepted the abbot’s opinion. Kang had believed much the same, and Delun would be foolish to not respect their views.

  Together, the two monks climbed up onto the walls of the monastery, overlooking the town. Delun felt strangely exposed, and he had a memory of the arrow almost killing him a few nights back.

  “Do you believe in the purpose of the monasteries, Delun?” the abbot asked.

  Delun was momentarily surprised by the question. “With my whole heart.”

  The abbot smiled. “As do I. You asked me what my cause was earlier and I skirted the question. However, seeing you and Kang, and talking to you now, I feel confident in telling you the full truth.” He extended his hands, taking in all of the town around them. “This is my cause. Here, I’m trying to build a new way forward.”

  Delun glanced at the abbot, wondering exactly what he was getting at.

  “Here in Kulat,” the abbot continued, not even noticing Delun’s wary glance, “I’m going to show the empire how peaceful and prosperous a town can be when the monasteries are in complete control.”

  15

  Bai and Lei left the quiet village behind them, following a trail that led higher into the mountains. After several days in the village, Bai’s lungs were getting used to the altitude. The hike seemed far less strenuous than she expected. After a few days of a warm, comfortable bed and incredible meals, she felt stronger than ever before.

  During her first days in the village she had suffered from recurring headaches. Those who checked on her suggested drinking plenty of water, and that seemed to help. So long as she didn’t move around too much, she felt decent.

  Today’s adventure would challenge her newfound health. With every step up the trail, she imagined the pain building behind her f
orehead. Fortunately, when they stopped in a clearing next to a small mountain lake, Bai felt as good as ever. She’d actually found the walk invigorating. The height and the cool air combined to lift her spirits.

  Lei hadn’t said much on the walk. He hadn’t spoken much to her since the first day she’d woken up in his village. He’d spoken briefly with her when he learned she planned on staying, asking her if she desired training. She hadn’t been certain, but she’d said yes anyway. In response, he’d told her to rest and acclimatize for the next few days.

  Since then, most of Bai’s company had been a group of local women. When they learned of Bai’s skill as a seamstress, they put her to work, and Bai found she enjoyed the distraction and the company. Both took her mind off of weightier matters.

  Mending clothes and creating new robes allowed her mind to settle into familiar patterns. She’d been the same as long as she could remember. When work was put in front of her, she gradually lost her awareness of her surroundings, melting into the task. Some of the women gently chided her for not paying enough attention to the conversation, but Bai suspected they saw that she wanted to lose herself in the work.

  Too many questions swirled endlessly in her mind. Lei’s silence hadn’t helped. He’d spoken to her about training, confirmed that he believed she was gifted, and said no more. Some moments, she wanted to believe him. Others, she wondered if he was a fool.

  Then this morning he showed up and asked her to train, right then. Her first reaction was to deny him, mostly out of spite. But this was her way forward, and Hien’s words stuck in her memory. She didn’t understand Lei’s silences or his methods, but at the same time, she couldn’t shake the feeling there was something behind his actions, some greater purpose or plan she didn’t recognize.

  Lei had them take positions about five paces away from one another. He looked relaxed, his feet a little wider than hip width apart, his hands clasped behind his back. He had a hint of a smile on his face. “You don’t believe me.”

  She shook her head. “Women don’t possess the gift. Everyone knows that.”

  “And yet here you are.”

  “I want answers.”

  “You possess the gift.”

  She glared at him, but his smile never faltered. He seemed to relish being obtuse.

  “Do you truly believe that half of all people don’t even have the chance of being born gifted?”

  Bai’s brow furrowed. She hadn’t ever questioned the knowledge. Doing so would be no different than wondering every evening if the sun would rise the next day. Some things in life simply were. “Why are there no women in the monasteries, then?”

  Lei’s grin grew a little, as though she’d finally asked a worthy question. “Tradition is a difficult master to disobey. You know how most gifted children are discovered?”

  Bai opened her mouth to answer, only to realize she didn’t know.

  “It turns out, it’s very hard to discover when a person is gifted. Personally, I suspect that there are hundreds, if not thousands, of gifted wandering the streets who don’t realize their power.

  “In most cases, power responds to power. A monk, paying attention, might feel the faintest flicker of energy in a young boy as he passes. It’s often not much, and easy to miss. Like you, the monasteries believe only men can have the power. Why would a monk even look for women with the gift if he’s convinced only men can have it?”

  Bai turned that over in her mind. She didn’t believe Lei, but his voice conveyed his sincerity. Even if she didn’t believe, she knew he did.

  “So, you can feel my power?” She tried to keep a mocking tone out of her voice and failed.

  Lei nodded, and she started.

  “You lie.”

  “No. Standing close to you, like this, is incredible. Your power is unmistakable to any with the gift. It reacts to my own.”

  Bai shook her head furiously. Of all the deceits she’d experienced, this was the worst. She was a village seamstress. Nothing more.

  “Do you feel refreshed, standing next to me?”

  Bai looked over at Lei. She did, but what did that have to do with anything?

  “Stand here. Pay attention to how you feel.”

  She agreed, reluctantly, and Lei turned and walked away. He approached the shore of the lake and walked around it for a while. Bai had expected him to leave and come back a few minutes later. Instead, he put a considerable amount of space between them, and waited off in the distance. She felt awkward, standing here alone.

  Bai ignored her anger at this game and examined herself. As Lei walked away, Bai felt the muscles in her legs begin to complain. She wasn’t surprised. She was still a little sore from the escape with Hien, and while the walk this morning hadn’t been more than a mile or two, much of the trail was steep.

  Bai sat down on a rock, waiting for Lei to return.

  Eventually, he started walking back, not in any rush. As he stepped close to her, she felt life return to her limbs. She stood up, her anger returning, then realized exactly what had just happened.

  “You see?”

  She refused to acknowledge his point.

  “This is one reason why I didn’t want to train you earlier,” Lei said. “I can say more when we progress in our training, but bodies can only handle so much energy. When you came to us, you felt nearly drained, your life in danger in more ways than one. Rest and food have helped you recover, but I didn’t want to attempt even basic training without you building your strength back up.”

  Bai nodded along, absorbing the words but not quite listening. She had gone her entire life believing she was a certain person, and now Lei stood here, telling her she was someone else. Her own skin suddenly felt foreign to her, like she shouldn’t belong.

  “Do you believe now?” Lei asked.

  Bai shook her head. “I don’t know.”

  Lei gave a short, sharp laugh. “At least you’re honest.”

  With that, the two of them began training in earnest. Bai wasn’t sure if she believed Lei’s story, but she was willing to try, at least. She could follow his instructions. If nothing else, if she failed it would prove he was wrong.

  They began with meditations and simple combat forms. Lei taught her how to throw a punch and how to block. He taught her how to kick and to blend one move into another. He was a patient but exacting teacher. Eventually, he taught her the first two-handed sign, which he described as one of the easiest ways to focus energy.

  Together, they went through the sign over and over, Lei describing not just the physical process, but the mental ones as well. Bai had never assumed that training to be a monk was easy, but she’d never guessed just how hard it was either.

  Try as she might, though, she couldn’t get the technique to work. She did everything Lei requested, but nothing happened. As the day wore on, she could tell that even the normally unflappable Lei was beginning to get frustrated. Clearly, he had expected something more from her. But she’d been right all along. She wasn’t anything more than a local village seamstress.

  As the sun fell toward the mountain peaks, Lei had them take a break from their training. He studied Bai for a few long moments, as if trying to solve an impossible riddle. Finally, with a small shrug, his grin from the morning returned. “Care to spar?”

  Bai didn’t think she’d heard him correctly. “What?”

  “Would you like to spar? It seems as good a way as any to finish out the day.”

  Bai agreed. They’d trained in the martial forms of the monasteries all day, and although she didn’t think she could even hold a candle to Lei, she was curious to see what she could do.

  They took fighting stances across from one another. Once settled, Lei came in, testing her guard with a few quick jabs.

  None of them landed, but Bai didn’t think Lei had tried very hard. He came in again with another combination, this time landing a soft kick to her left thigh. She shook the attack off, trying to land a few punches of her own. Even as she moved in, she
could feel how wild they were. In practice, Lei had drilled into her the importance of balance and controlling the body. Now, as soon as the situation became real, all her practice vanished.

  She retreated a few paces and relaxed. Lei had trained her well, even if it was only for a day. He came in again, and Bai slipped into the same state she did when she sewed. The world fell away, leaving only her and Lei. She saw the combination as it came in, dodged the first two jabs and cleanly blocked the kick. Her own fists snaked out, her balance better this time.

  Bai missed, but Lei smiled. “Better.”

  He came in again, this time faster. Bai almost blocked him, but a quick jab found the side of her face. It hadn’t been hard, and she’d been slapped before, but she’d never been punched in the face. Instead of cowering, though, she became determined. She would land one punch before the day ended.

  When Lei approached the next time, Bai felt that something was off. Her world seemed more vivid, the sounds louder. Lei stepped in, jabbing with his right hand. She defended easily enough, then felt the power in his left hand, held low. By the time she realized he had gathered an energy attack, it was too late. She felt the force as it jumped out of his hand, aimed straight at her chest.

  She felt the blow land.

  Then nothing.

  Lei slowed down in front of her. She had time to study the expression on his face, caught somewhere between curiosity and concern. His guard was down, his expectations obvious. His torso was exposed, not far from her leading leg.

  Just as he had taught her, she lifted the leg, chambered the kick, and snapped out at him. She saw the shock in his eyes as he tumbled backward, rolling to a stop several paces back. The world sped up again.

  He coughed, and she was at his side immediately.

  “Lei! I’m so sorry!”

  He blinked a few times, then laughed out loud. Shaking himself off, he got to his feet. He studied her carefully. “Perhaps we should call that a good day of training.”