by Inmon, Shawn
Alex clicked his tongue at his horse and moved up alongside Tokin-ak. Quietly, the old man said, “Do you believe him?”
“Yes.”
A small grin touched the corners of Tokin-ak’s mouth, but he didn’t say anything else.
I love this guy, but sometimes I hate him just a little bit, too.
They rode on, mile after mile, until long after it was full dark.
“I know these conditions are not ideal for traveling,” Tokin-ak said, “but in a few days, when we start to truly climb into the mountains, we will think back on these days with longing. We should travel as much as we are capable of now.”
Alex didn’t speak, but turned up the fur-lined collar of his overcoat and sank back inside it. He turned his vision inward, and contemplated what he knew about the battles of history, what lessons they had brought, and how he might apply them to the unknown challenges ahead.
He was snapped out of his reverie by a shout from behind. Senta-eh. “Manta-ak!”
He poked his head out of his coat like a turtle emerging from its shell. Behind him, he saw Senta-eh turning her horse around. Directly behind her, Werda-ak’s horse walked, bare-backed.
Alex didn’t bother to turn his horse, which was a cumbersome bit of business in the narrow passage they were climbing. Instead, he jumped off and sprinted back. Past Senta-eh, past Werda-ak’s horse and beyond, until he found Werda-ak lying in an unconscious heap. His face was flushed, his cheeks tinged red, eyes shut but fluttering.
Alex picked him up and looked around, trying to see where they were. Senta-eh reached him and said, “Here, hand him up to me.” She scooted back on her horse and held her arms out. Alex lifted the boy up to her and realized at that moment how thin he was, and how much the fight for his life had taken out of him.
Senta-eh took the reins in one hand and wrapped her left arm around Werda-ak’s chest. “Tell Tokin-ak we need to stop as soon as possible.
Alex ran back past his own horse and caught up to Tokin-ak, who had stopped and turned in his saddle. “Still believe him?”
“Where can we stop?” Alex asked, ignoring the rebuke.
“Ahead, just out of this canyon, there is a small lean-to. There will be a fire pit and dry wood waiting for us. I will take us there.”
Alex ran back to Senta-eh and told her to go ahead of him. He would bring up the rear.
They emerged from the canyon’s walls a few hundred yards later, and the old man was right again. There was a lean-to made of saplings, bound together with rope. It didn’t look like it would stand forever, but it was still there for them on this night. Alex jumped down and laid two blankets in the spot next to where the fire would be, then ran back to take Werda-ak from Senta-eh. He laid the boy next to the firepit and went about building a fire. As soon as the blaze gave enough light, he removed the bandages from the injured leg, fearing what he would see.
What if the poison and infection are back? How can I treat him here? Can we even make it back to the island, and how will we get back across the lake?
When he pulled the bandages away, Alex was relieved to see that the wound was still clean. A scab had formed where Alex had cut the “X” in the calf, but there was no redness or infection showing.
Alex looked up at the old man, who was warming his hands by the fire. “He must have just pushed himself past exhaustion until he passed out and fell off the horse.”
“Bravery and endurance are normally good things, but sometimes they can be counterproductive.”
“Thanks. Noted.”
“I do not mean it as a rebuke. He is a brave young man, who does not want to slow your mission. We just need to be aware of it.”
“And by ‘we,’ you mean me.”
“Yes.”
Alex looked around for Senta-eh, but she was nowhere to be seen. He sat with Werda-ak, and as the fire warmed him, the boy stirred, then opened his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” were his first words.
“Stop. You don’t need to be. But, we do need to have a talk. I need to be able to trust you when you tell me something. So, when you say you won’t push yourself until you pass out, I need you to mean that.”
“I just thought—”
“—I know what you thought. You thought you were young and strong, and that you could just push through. But you scared us. And, if you’d smashed your head into a rock when you pitched off your horse, you would be dead now, and I would be having to dig a hole to put you in. And the ground is frozen. Please don’t make me dig a grave in frozen ground. It hurts my back.”
Werda-ak looked at Alex to see if he was kidding, and noted his smile. “Right. Don’t want to put you out with my death. I’ll try to choose a better place to die, where my grave will be easier to dig.”
“Atta boy.” Alex said, laying a comforting hand on his shoulder. He heard footsteps and saw Senta-eh approaching.
“I tried to find something for our dinner.”
“In the dark?”
“I have hunted in the dark before.”
“Successfully?”
“No.”
“Come, sit by the fire and get warm. We still have plenty of food in our larder.”
“Rabbit food,” Werda-ak added helpfully.
“Yes, rabbit food. But it’s what we have, and we’re all going to like it.”
“Well, we are all hungry,” Senta-eh said, “so we’ll eat it, but we won’t like it. I am hungry for meat.”
Alex hadn’t given a thought to Monda-ak since they had arrived at the lean-to. He had disappeared as he often did, in search of his own dinner. Now, he heard him approaching, heavy footsteps crunching on the snow.
A large hare was in his mouth, its neck obviously broken. He carried it to Alex and dropped it at his feet. Alex had spent years with Monda-ak and had fed him thousands of times, but the food line had never gone the other way.
“Is that for us?”
Monda-ak pushed the rabbit toward Alex with his nose, then turned and padded back into the darkness.
“I think the dog is a better hunter in the dark than either of you,” Tokin-ak observed.
Alex agreed and began to clean the rabbit, so they could eat.
THE NEXT LEG OF THEIR journey was not easy, even though the horses they had been given in Tonton were built for a trip such as this. Their stout bodies and stubby legs were perfect for wading through snow, and climbing up hills at the same steady pace.
Alex observed that it was good to be led by a blind man, because the snow had obliterated any trace of the trail anyway.
It took them twelve days of steady riding, but eventually Tokin-ak turned in his saddle and said, “There is a boulder we will need to move just ahead.”
Sure enough, a large boulder loomed in the path ahead of them. If Alex had been navigating, he would have looked for an alternate route.
“The boulder that is as big as a hut? That boulder?”
“Yes, precisely. Is there another boulder around that I am not aware of?”
A comedian. This ancient holy man thinks he’s a comedian.
“No,” Alex said, doing his best to keep his voice patient. “It’s just that this boulder looks like it weighs more than all our horses and Monda-ak put together. I like to think I’m strong, but I can’t fool myself into thinking that I can push that aside.”
“I see,” Tokin-ak said, swinging his leg over his alecs-ta. “Allow me, then.”
Alex glanced at Senta-eh, a broad smile on his face. “I don’t know if I’m more afraid that he can do it, or that he can’t.”
Tokin-ak tottered over to the boulder, using his walking stick so he did not fall over. When he reached the boulder, he placed the stick against the boulder, turned his unseeing eyes so that they looked directly at Alex and pushed.
The boulder slid quietly to the side.
As he walked back to his alecs-ta, he said, “Welcome to Hakun-ah, where nothing is as it seems.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Hakun-ah Redux
Tokin-ak led the caravan onto a small, well-groomed trail that lay behind the boulder. There were sharp walls of granite on both sides that rose more than a hundred feet in the air. As the walls climbed, they reached toward each other, so they nearly touched at the very top. Someone walking from one peak to the other might think that the space between them was nothing more than a crack in a single peak.
That made a protective roof over the path, which was thus clear of snow or mud.
“I could get used to this,” Alex said. Then, louder, “Tokin-ak, if I’d known you could arrange a trail like this, I would have asked you to do it all the way from the island.”
Tokin-ak ignored him, and continued on up the path.
They followed the path through the closed-in walls for more than a mile. After a time, it began to give Alex a slightly creepy feeling. If he leaned off his horse to his left, he could touch that wall, and the same was true to his right.
If some creature ignores the peace agreement with the holy men and comes charging down this trail, thinking we look like a tasty meal, we’ll be dead.
Despite his worry, Alex smiled reassuringly over his shoulder at Senta-eh and Werda-ak. “Nice, huh?”
Senta-eh, who may have been on the trail a bit too long, looked at him through heavy-lidded eyes but did not answer.
Werda-ak returned his smile. Since he had fallen unconscious on the first day of this leg of their journey, he had been a different kid. When his leg pained him too much, or when he felt lightheaded or nauseous, he told them. They stopped and rested—or rested as much as they could on a steep slope in a blowing snowstorm—until he felt ready to continue.
When they finally emerged from the narrow corridor, Alex was not prepared for what he saw. He had tried to imagine what a city full of holy men might look like, but he had come up empty. What he discovered was that Hakun-ah resembled Winten-ah, if the cliffside had been improved on by master builders.
The village soared vertically above him, with various caves and rock overhangs, but instead of simply utilizing the caves as a home as the Winten-ah had done, the architects of Hakun-ah had built add-ons that blended in with the rock. Where there was a rock overhang over a ledge below, they had built a rock structure of their own that melded the two. Where a deep cave existed, they had built a cabin in front that utilized the additional space inside. It was an example of thoughtful working of architecture and nature working in harmony.
“Nice digs,” Alex said, then realized that “digs” doesn’t mean the same thing in Kragdon-ah as it did back home. His companions were used to the occasional non-sequitur from him and ignored him.
Orange-robed men, ranging in age from young teens to a man who looked even older than Tokin-ak walked down a sloped ramp to the flat area at the base of the cliff.
The youngest of the boys rushed forward to take the reins of the alecs-ta from Tokin-ak. When he did, Alex noted that though he moved quickly, his left foot was turned inward. It didn’t seem to slow him down at all.
Alex looked at the rest of the welcoming committee and saw more and more physical disabilities—missing limbs and other extreme birth defects.
Before Alex had a chance to pretend that he hadn’t noticed, Tokin-ak turned to him and said, “Villages are always given a choice if they want to send a child to Hakun-ah. They never give their strongest or most able. If there is someone with a disability, that is who we receive. Most of us have one kind of physical challenge or another. But, none of it holds us back. After you’ve been here a few days, you won’t even notice it anymore.”
“A few days? We can’t stay that long. Now that we’ve gotten you here, we’ll want to be off in the morning. We still have a long journey ahead of us.”
“We will talk tonight, then you are free to do whatever you want.”
Tokin-ak turned to the crowd of men waiting for him and opened his arms wide. They engulfed him.
A tall young man with a left arm that shriveled down into a small remnant of a hand approached Alex. “I will take your horses and feed and water them. I am Antki-ak. I care for the animals.” He smiled broadly and took obvious pride in both his position in the village and his ability to carry out his duties.
“Thank you,” Alex said and signaled to Senta-eh and Werda-ak to join him. The three of them and Monda-ak walked to the gathering of holy men. Tokin-ak introduced them in turn, but didn’t bother to name all the holy men. “I won’t overwhelm you with dozens of names. Just know that when you see us, you can call us brother and we will answer.”
The oldest of the monks led them up the ramp to the village of Hakun-ah proper and into the largest building. Before they entered, Tokin-ak said, “It is our custom to not wear footwear inside. Please remove your winter boots and we will have them cleaned for you.” He saw Alex’s obvious discomfort. “Please, don’t worry. Just inside the entryway, our master is waiting. He will wash each of our feet as we enter. We do not expect someone to come off a journey through mud and muck to come with clean feet, but you will be able to leave that way.”
That didn’t calm Alex’s fear, but somehow he was the first person pushed through the door. Inside, as promised, the oldest of the monks sat on his heels, smiling. In front of him was a large bowl filled with steaming, aromatic water. Behind him was a line of monks, each holding an identical bowl.
“Sit,” he commanded, nodding toward a low bench.
Alex Hawk, comfortable in almost any battle situation, had never felt more out of his element. He looked down at his dirty, stinking feet. I haven’t even taken my boots off since we left the island.
The ancient one did not let him off the hook. He held his hand out for Alex’s foot.
With extreme reluctance, Alex offered his foot. The old man took a ladle and washed warm water over his foot. He dipped his hand into a bowl and smeared a creamy soap on top of the foot and rubbed it around.
Alex looked at the ceiling and tried to summon up a casual whistle, as though a holy man often cleaned his feet. He couldn’t manage it.
The old man, still smiling, rinsed the foot and Alex was pleased to note that underneath all the muck, it still came clean. The man let go of Alex’s right foot and held his hand out for the left.
Start to finish, the process didn’t take long. No more than a minute and a half. To Alex, it felt like an eternity.
When his second foot was released, Alex tried to stand, but a younger monk put a firm hand on his shoulders, then knelt in front of him and, using a white towel, dried his feet. When he was done, he said, “Please wait for us inside.”
Alex turned and looked at Senta-eh with wide eyes. She returned the same expression, but sat on the bench and submitted to the same process. When Werda-ak limped into the same position, the old man ran his hand gently along the bandages where his wound was. As he cleaned the boy’s feet he chanted a prayer that Alex was not familiar with.
As soon as they were released, they joined Alex inside, where another man brought them a hot drink that was both bitter and delicious.
Alex leaned forward and said quietly, “Did you guys know what this place was like?”
Before either of them could answer, the oldest monk said, “Only those of us who live here and a very few invited guests ever see the way we live.”
“Nothing wrong with their hearing,” Alex observed, lowering his voice even more.
“We do have deaf brothers here, but I am not one of them.” He turned to Alex with a disarming smile, then washed the feet of Tokin-ak, who seemed quite comfortable with the ritual.
It took some time, but eventually all brothers had participated in the foot washing and joined Alex and company at the long tables. Instead of being lit by torches, there were dozens of candles that lit the room and a warm fire in the stone fireplace against the wall. It was as comfortable and cozy a room as Alex had been in since he had stepped through the door.
As soon as all monks had been assembled, a slightly heavy man who had a h
orrendous birthmark on the left side of his face came through a door at the back of the room with a huge bowl of food that smelled heavenly. He went first to Alex and served him two large ladles of what was inside. Alex decided to wait until everyone was served, but Tokin-ak, who was sitting across from him, said, “Eat, while it’s hot. Whatever Froga-ak makes will be delicious, but it is best while it is still steaming.”
Alex, Werda-ak, and Senta-eh all dipped a wooden spoon down into the concoction, blew on it and slurped it up.
“Oh, thank the gods,” Werda-ak said, a blissful smile on his face. “Meat.”
Alex was a little surprised. “I guess the truce with the animals of the area only extends so far.”
“Oh, no,” Tokin-ak said. “Our peace with the animals is absolute. But, some tribes pay us tribute several times a year by bringing us meat from animals raised just for that purpose.” He looked slightly embarrassed and said, “We would do better to only eat plants, but we are not perfect. We don’t even approach perfection.”
“This afternoon, you said we could talk about whether we should leave tomorrow or not. You know our mission. Why would we delay?”
“You saw what the weather is like. It will not improve over the next few weeks and months. In fact, we are just now entering the deep freeze. There is a path over the mountain from here, and I am happy to lead you to it, but you will find it blocked.”
“Is there another way, another route?”
“Over the mountains? No. Not in the winter.”
“Is there a way that is not over the mountains?”
“Of course. You could go back to the island and turn south there. You could follow the mountain range south until spring comes, then you could cross over there.”
Alex allowed his head to drop, feeling defeated. He saw no good way to turn. Finally, he said, “What would you do?”
“That is an excellent question. If you had asked me the same question at the fork in the path, I would have answered differently.”
“No need to rub it in.”
“As I say, I am not perfect, and I have been out in the world too much of late. Those ways have infected me, I’m afraid. I apologize. To answer your question, you should stay here with us. It is much safer than beating your heads against the face of the mountain. You can venture out and likely die in the deep freeze, or you can stay here with us and we will help refresh your spirit, focus you on your goal, and,” here he looked at Werda-ak, “help you to heal.”
