This time, Torim Jet’s smile was so wide he could feel his face stretching. “That is exactly the perfect attitude, Palusa Filk. We will be successful, you and Rindu and I. Have we not already one outstanding disciple in Bao Ling? I thank you for reminding me of the proper attitude.”
“It is ever my pleasure and my honor to help my brothers and sisters, even should they be my master.” She smiled and he knew she realized she was repeating something he had told her many times before when he had taught her some lesson.
“It is almost time for Sam and the others to return for the day,” he told her. I would like to take our meal with them to find out how their quest is progressing. Shall we go meet them?”
The two went toward the dining hall the others used each day. On the way, they stopped by the main library Dr. Walt haunted, knowing he had probably lost track of the time and wouldn’t know it was meal time. Torim Jet chuckled when Palusa Filk joked that the old scholar could probably forget meals entirely, wondering why his stomach was rumbling while still too engaged in his research to think about food.
They had only just sat down in the dining hall when Sam and the others arrived. Besides Sam, Nalia, Rindu, and Ix, two men accompanied them. They wore familiar robes—though not in a familiar color—and spoke oddly.
“Oh, good,” Sam said as he walked up to the table. “I was hoping you would be here. Master Torim Jet, Palusa Filk, Dr. Walt, I would like you to meet Brother Dilkin and Brother Mosian. They are from a village called Rohwbyt, deep in the mountains to the east. They are brothers in the Order of the Rohw.”
Torim exchanged greetings with the brothers, noticing that they were nervous. No, not nervous. Excited. They shifted their gaze between himself, Palusa Filk, and Rindu, who had brought a heaping plate of food to the table and was conscientiously scooping it into his mouth. There was admiration, almost awe in their eyes as they looked at the monks while Sam told the story of their city and the Order.
“Pred Turin,” Torim said. “I think I have heard that name before, but I do not remember in what context. It is clear that you are long-lost brothers. Welcome to Whitehall. Your story is fascinating, and it is a great honor to meet you.” As Torim saluted them and bowed, the eyes of both of the brothers went liquid, but they said nothing, only bowed deeply.
“There’s more,” Sam said.
If Torim Jet was surprised by the news about the city and the Order itself, he was even more so about the peculiar way the brothers used the rohw. “Can you demonstrate for us?” he asked them, and they nearly fell over themselves with eagerness to comply.
The brothers looked at each other, seeming to be at a loss for a suitable demonstration. Brother Dilkin finally rested his gaze on Dr. Walt, who looked as if he hadn’t slept in weeks. Dark circles ringed his eyes, and Torim had noticed a bandage on his left hand, though he had not yet had a chance to ask about the apparent injury.
“Dr. Walt,” Brother Dilkin said, “is your hand injured?”
Dr. Walt had been paying attention, but his eyes were glassy, unfocused. At the mention of his name, he jerked his head up, which was slowly sinking toward the table. “What? Oh, my hand. Ah, yes. I am clumsy and cut myself as I was putting my razor away after shaving. It’s nothing.”
“May I perhaps heal it?” the brother asked. “As a demonstration.”
“Heal? Heal a cut? Yes, of course.”
Dr. Walt removed the bandage, which Torim noticed had an appreciable amount of blood on the inner wrappings, revealing a long incision across the scholar’s palm.
Brother Dilkin began a complex series of movements, each increasing the glow of the rohw around him and changing the nature of the energy. Torim watched with fascination as the movements gathered more rohw and then channeled it into Dr. Walt. When Dilkin finally relaxed, the cut looked like it had healed for a week. Even the dark circles under Dr. Walt’s eyes had disappeared, and he looked generally well-rested.
Torim Jet stared at the cut, mouth open.
“That is incredible,” he said. “I have never seen the rohw used in that manner.”
Torim Jet looked to Palusa Filk. Her mouth was open too, and she was staring as if trying to determine something, perhaps whether or not she believed what she had just seen. Rindu had stopped eating and was looking at the two other Zouyim with a quizzical look. It was obvious he had seen a demonstration before. Dr. Walt had on his face the look he got when confronted with a mystery of some kind.
Sam filled the silence. “As you can see, the brothers have developed some interesting uses of the rohw, but at the heart of it, they have spent their lives trying to emulate the Zouyim as they waited to be brought back into the fold.
“Their prophecies say that they will be taken from isolated Rohwbyt and will again become part of the Zouyim Order. I was hoping that you, Master Torim, and Master Rindu could discuss it and figure out what needs to be done.”
The words he had exchanged with Palusa Filk only hours ago came back to him. Had he not wished they could find more disciples with which to build the Zouyim Order once again? Was this not an unexpected gift?
He opened his mouth to speak, but a look from Rindu made him close it again.
“We can discuss these things later,” Rindu said. “For now, let us eat and enjoy each other’s company. We can tell the brothers what is happening in the greater world and the challenges we face at this time.”
There were nods all around. If the brothers saw anything amiss about Rindu’s abrupt dismissal of the question at hand, they did not show it. They smiled, bowed, and began to eat their meals, asking questions and answering them.
After the meal, Rindu asked Palusa Filk to show the brothers to rooms they could use for the night. The next day, they would be shown around the keep, with its libraries, parks, and training facilities.
“The Order of the Rohw have a deep respect for the Zouyim,” Rindu said when the brothers had left with Palusa Filk. “They were promised a place with the Zouyim and they desire it above all else.”
Torim Jet waited several breaths to see if Rindu would continue. He did not. “Is there a problem with bringing them in?” he asked.
“Perhaps,” Rindu said. “It is unusual for adults to be brought into the Order. It has happened, once, but it is unusual. We are discussing an entire village of adults who have their own lives and their own experiences. You and I, Brother Torim, are the only masters left, and as such it is up to us to determine what is appropriate for the Zouyim Order as a whole.”
Torim Jet understood now. “You are thinking that perhaps with an entire group of those who have lived by a strict code, there will be much pressure to change what is the Zouyim way?”
“Exactly. It is said, ‘The ideal disciple is a new piece of parchment.’ If they are brought in as disciples—bringing them in as full brothers is preposterous—they might try to insist upon ways that are not as they should be for a Zouyim monk.”
“What then?” Torim asked. “Shall we reject their desire to be part of the temple, reject the thing their entire lives have been based upon?”
“Not that,” Rindu answered. “Never that. Perhaps something different, though, something new. Would it be amiss to see them as associates, much like the Sapsyra are associates? They could remain a group unto themselves, a subset of the Zouyim but not full brothers. In time, as they individually decide to adopt the Zouyim way more fully, changing some of their own traditions, they could become disciples and eventually brothers. Any of the young could decide to be in either group and would be raised up and trained accordingly.”
Torim thought about it for a moment. “That seems acceptable to me, but will it be to them? Would they see it as an insult?”
“That is my concern as well,” Rindu said. “The brothers hold authority with the Order, and they seem reasonable. I propose we discuss it with them and see what they think.”
Sam, Nalia, and Dr. Walt had remained silent during the exchange, knowing that it was Zouyim business
. Torim Jet turned to Sam. “What of your opinion, Sam? What do you think about this situation?”
Sam jumped as if startled. “Me? Why ask me?”
“You are tied to us, Sam,” Rindu said. “In a sense, you are the leader of us all, Zouyim, Sapsyra, and the new government. All look to you for leadership.”
Sam gulped. “I still don’t understand why—” Nalia’s touch on his arm made him stop what he was saying. “I think that sounds like the most logical way to do it. With the brothers, I mean. I have a feeling that there will be a give and take in this. The Zouyim will modify a few things that the masters see fit to change, but the Order will make changes, individually, as they try to fit into the Zouyim lifestyle. Within a generation, there may be only one Zouyim Order or there may be both, each fulfilling a specific purpose.”
“Yes,” Rindu said. “I had not thought of it that way, but of course, you are right. We may be witnessing the dawn of a third powerful group dedicated to the protection of the people of Gythe. I am fond of that idea.”
“I, too,” Torim Jet added. “I believe we should discuss this with the brothers in the morning.”
“It is agreed then,” Rindu said, “but it will be you who discusses it with them, Brother Torim. We will leave them here tomorrow as we continue on our quest. You can discuss it with them, and when we go to travel on the day after, we will take them back to their village. Your consultation with them will dictate what happens after that.
“Palusa Filk will take part as well. She is not a master yet, it is true, but she will be valuable in the discussions. And, of course, we would like to hear your opinion, Dr. Walt, though you do not need to take part in the actual discussions if you do not desire it. We know you have much to do with the new government and your research.”
Dr. Walt nodded.
The next day, Torim Jet and Palusa Filk showed the brothers around the keep. Their eyes started the morning wider than normal, and by the time they had finished with the first library, it did not appear that their heads could contain the huge orbs any longer.
The group moved along to some of the training rooms, indoor arenas, and the parks that dotted the outskirts of the keep.
“I had not imagined a structure such as this,” Brother Dilkin said. “It is not just that it is massive, but the craftsmanship of the building and the foresight of the builders amazes me.”
Brother Mosian nodded emphatically in agreement.
“Yes, it is a marvel,” Torim Jet said. “I have not been here long and am still discovering things I did not know existed.”
“I also sense in it some type of power, but not really the rohw. Was it built by rohw users?”
“Ah, you are very perceptive. Apparently it was built using some type of power thousands of years ago, even before technology took hold, increased, and led to the Great War. We do not know what power it is. As you say, it seems related to the rohw, but then again, it is not the rohw. I do not know if we will ever discover how it was done, though Dr. Walt, for one, plans on doing research until he can do so.” Torim Jet chuckled.
“Amazing,” Brother Mosian said.
The group stopped at one of the parks and sat on a bench beneath a willow tree near a little stream. Torim Jet looked at Palusa Filk, who had seemed content to be mostly silent during the tour. She looked back at him, her face unreadable except for a little tension in the corner of her eyes. He was not sure how to discuss what he must discuss. He began anyway.
“Brother Dilkin, what are your plans for the future?” Torim asked.
The man looked startled. “My plans?”
“Yes, your plans for the Order of the Rohw.”
“I…I am not sure what you mean, Master Torim. My plans are what they have always been for the Order. We have awaited the time when the Zouyim would retrieve us and bring us out of Rohwbyt and into the Order of the Zouyim.”
“Yes, I understand,” Torim Jet said. “What I mean is, in what way are you expecting to be brought into the Zouyim Order?”
Dilkin wore confusion on his face. “I do not know. The prophecies say that we will be brought out, but they do not speak of the time after that happens. We have always focused on the Zouyim finding us and not on what happens after. It would depend on what you decide.”
“I see.” Torim Jet rubbed his temples and considered what to say next. After a moment, he continued. “There are some differences that have grown in your many years of isolation, beliefs and attitudes and traditions that differ from the Zouyim.” The master watched Dilkin’s face as he spoke. Understanding dawned on his features.
“Yes, Master Torim. I agree and understand now.” He sighed in relief. “You are concerned that our ways may water down or change the Zouyim way, and so we should be brought into association in such a way that we do not affect the traditions of the Zouyim. Is that correct?”
Torim Jet smiled, partly in relief and partly because it was a pleasure to deal with such an astute man. “Yes.”
“Do not concern yourself, Master Torim. We will accept whatever type of association you wish to impose. We are humble servants, waiting for our masters to rescue us from our isolation and to tell us which way we should go. Should you tell us to forget all that we know, we will do so and start as newborn babes.”
“Now,” Torim Jet said, hands raised as if warding off the idea, “do not be so hasty. It is not as serious as that. You have developed abilities and uses of the rohw we, in our rigid traditions, have not. That is good. It will take time to sort through our differences and to decide on the future of the Zouyim Order, but do not fear that we will subjugate you and take these things that make you who you are.”
Brother Dilkin bowed. “It is as you say, Master. We will do as you direct, trusting in your wisdom and honor.”
“Excellent,” Torim said. “We will have to decide how to structure the taking in of your Order and where to house you all and what tasks you may do to aid us in our current crisis. There is more than enough room for all the people from Rohwbyt right here in the keep. We can—”
“Pardon, Master Torim,” Brother Mosian said, “but Brother Dilkin and I have discussed this at length. Would it be too presumptuous to request that we be allowed to go to the site of the former Zouyim temple on Kokitura Mountain? Might we settle there and begin rebuilding the temple structures? With your guidance, of course.”
Torim Jet paused. He realized his mouth had dropped open and he closed it with a click. He saw that Palusa Filk’s head jerk toward the brother. “Build…rebuild the temple?” he stammered.
Brother Mosian misunderstood and bowed deeply. “I am sorry, Master. Have I shown disrespect? I did not mean to. We have fine craftsman, and I thought it a good use of our hands and our effort. We will do whatever we are directed, of course, should it be building privies for the army or gardening in the parks. Please do not take offense.”
The old Zouyim regained his composure. “No, brother, you have not been disrespectful. In fact, what you have offered is more than I could have hoped. I had simply not thought of it.” His vision became blurry from the moisture in his eyes. “The thought of rebuilding the temple now brings joy to my heart. I did not believe we would be able to do so until the current crisis is done, perhaps years from now. But what you say is reasonable. I will have to discuss it with Rindu, of course, as well as Sam and Dr. Walt, but I think it is a wonderful idea.”
The huge smiles that appeared on the brothers’ faces, as well as on Palusa Filk’s, told him they were satisfied with his answer as well.
Chapter 13
Sam looked out at the miles of forest to the north. They would have to pass through all those trees. He sighed. Things had been so much easier—and faster—when they were able to use Ix’s abilities to skim from place to place instead of having to travel by rakkeben all day. He guessed he was just spoiled.
“What are you thinking, Sam?” Nalia asked as she came up alongside him on Cleave.
Sam looked over at her and smil
ed. “About how much traveling we still have to do. It feels like we’re going so slowly like this. I’m afraid Chetra Dal will reach the artifact before us.”
“I understand,” she said. “I too am concerned about that. But we are doing our best to travel quickly. There is no sense in worrying about whether or not we are going fast enough. It will be what it will be.”
Sam blinked and rubbed his hand across his eyes, then blinked again. Nalia gave him a quizzical look.
“What is wrong?” she asked.
“Oh, nothing. I just had to make sure it was you and not your father I was speaking to.” He chuckled.
“Very funny,” she said as she slapped his shoulder. “It is true. It is needless to worry about such things. We will do our best, and if we reach the artifact, we will keep it from Chetra Dal’s grasp. If not, we will determine another way to foil his plans.”
“You’re probably right,” Sam said. “I’ll try to remember. Anyway, we should get moving. One thing I am sure of is that if we don’t move, we won’t find the last artifact.”
The others came up to them. Rindu had as close to a frown on his face as Sam had ever seen.
“I am uneasy,” he said, looking around. “There is a feeling in the air, within the rohw. I do not know what it is. I do not like it.”
Sam thought for a moment. He felt uneasy, too. It wasn’t anything he could put his finger on, but something didn’t seem right. It was almost like when—long before he had ever heard of the rohw—he felt someone’s eyes on him, like he was being watched. It was unsettling.
“Me, either,” Sam said.
“It is as if there is the shadow of something sinister, a memory of some wrongness,” Rindu continued. “We must be wary today, I think. Even more than normal.”
The others remained silent, but their expressions were set, their body language showing their resolve. Even the rakkeben seemed extra alert.
Resonance: Harmonic Magic Book 3 Page 10
