A Sudden Dawn - Goran Powell

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were quite old, and the journey is very demanding. There are mountains of dangerous cold, treacherous rivers, endless deserts. It’s thought they perished on the way. On top of that, there are bandits and brigands in the hills. One may have been killed, or captured and enslaved. The fourth went by sea, a very long route. I believe his ship was either lost at sea or attacked by pirates.”

      “I see.”

      “The Venerable Ananda and I felt that a monk with a background like yours would be the ideal candidate to succeed in such a mission,” Prajnatara said lightly, as if giving an answer to a simple puzzle. “If your skill with the bow and the sword is even half as good as your wrestling, you should have nothing to fear. In fact, heaven help any bandit who tries to stop you!”

      “You make it sound easy,” Bodhidharma scowled.

      “It is not easy. Not at all. But then, the path never is. It is simply the path. And this is your path. Surely you can see that?”

      Bodhidharma stared at him coolly.

      “Besides,” Prajnatara continued, “it’s not all doom and danger. Think of the adventures you’ll have, the places you’ll see. You can go north to Magadha and bathe in the sacred waters of the Ganges. Make a pilgrimage to Bodh Gaya and meditate beneath the Tree of Enlightenment like The Buddha. You can visit Kapilavastu, Sarnath, and Kusinagara. And after all that, you can go to Nalanda, the greatest temple in the world, where The Venerable Ananda will be expecting you. He will help you prepare for your onward journey. You will climb the Himalayas and stand on the roof of the world. I climbed those mountains myself when I was young. They are so beautiful. I only wish I could see them once again before I die, but my place is here now. And then you will see China! Just think of it, an unimaginable land, known to the rest of us only through myth and legend. How I envy you.”

      He stopped abruptly to gauge the reaction of his disciple.

      “It sounds like the two of you have it all planned,” Bodhidharma said.

      Prajnatara laughed. “The Venerable Ananda and I have written many times on the subject, that much is true. He is very excited about the possibility of your mission, very excited about you. But there is no need to answer right now, Bodhidharma. Think it over. Take as long as you wish. I know you will make the right decision.”

      “There is no need to think it over,” Bodhidharma said quietly. “I will go.”

      Prajnatara’s face lit up. “You will?”

      “I will. If you say it is my destiny, then I will follow it.”

      “How wonderful!” Prajnatara clapped his hands in delight. “The Venerable Ananda will be so thrilled when I tell him.”

      “I would not want to disappoint the living embodiment of Buddha on Earth,” Bodhidharma said with a grim smile.

      “Oh Bodhidharma, you could never disappoint him, nor me! But I’m so happy that you have accepted. It is your path. I have seen it in a vision, and these things cannot be ignored.” Prajnatara poured a little water for himself and took a sip. “On a more practical note, you will need more than your bowl and sandals for this journey. I will give you funds and provisions to help you reach Nalanda, and Ananda will help you from there. But we can make all those arrangements later, much later. First we should relax, and you can tell me where you have been wandering and preaching, and why you have waited so long before coming to visit us. I am very angry with you, young man, very very angry …”

      And so it was that Bodhidharma set off for an unknown land beyond the Himalayas, a place he could only imagine from a painting he had once seen, long ago, in the library of a temple he had visited. The painting had been unusual, most unlike the richly colored art of India. With just a few bold strokes of black ink on stark white paper, the artist had created an enormous winged serpent coiled around sharp towers of rock. Angry white water seethed beneath it, and a fine silver mist hung in the air. Curious markings ran down the side—Chinese writing, he had been told—though no one had any idea of their meaning. The effect had been startling; an alien world filled with unknown dangers. It was a land that could not have been more different from the warm flat jungles of his homeland, a place that was now both his destination and, if Prajnatara was to be believed, his destiny.

      Kuang Returns to Barracks

      Huo bent to help Kuang to his feet. “Come on, you fool,” he sighed, straining to lift him, “let’s get you back to the barracks. It’s going to be freezing out here tonight.”

      Kuang struggled to stand. His body was wracked with pain. He took two faltering steps supporting himself on Huo’s shoulder, but the pain was too great and his legs buckled beneath him. Huo caught him and lifted him in his arms like a baby, ignoring his groans. “No need to thank me,” he said.

      Huo had a fat lip and his left eye was black and swollen, despite which, he appeared in good spirits. He had clearly fared better in Corporal Chen’s brutal training fights than Kuang had. “Why did you come and get me?” Kuang demanded sullenly.

      “Corporal Chen sent me.”

      “He did?”

      “When I told him you hadn’t come back, he ordered me to come and get you.”

      “That’s very caring of him.”

      “Try not to annoy him, Kuang. Just keep your head down and don’t get noticed. That’s what I do. It’s the best way.”

      “I don’t want to be like you.”

      “Good. I don’t want to be like you, either.”

      They continued in silence until they reached the torch-lit compound inside the fort. Commander Tang’s residence stood before them. The commander was the officer in charge of the fort, and as they drew nearer, Kuang twisted in Huo’s arms.

      “You can put me down now,” he said.

      “Don’t be stupid, we’re almost there.”

      “Put me down.”

      “Shut up,” Huo laughed, “or I’ll drop you here and leave you on the floor.”

      “Come on, put me down, please …”

      Huo gave in and put him down and Kuang walked despite the pain. Huo wondered why his friend was so determined to walk. Perhaps he didn’t want Commander Tang to glance out of the window and see him being carried like a baby. When Huo noticed movement on the terrace outside the commander’s residence, he guessed the real reason for Kuang’s reaction. Weilin was outside.

      Weilin was Commander Tang’s daughter and often came out in the evening to tend her flowerpots or read a few pages from her book. Like all the soldiers in the fort, Huo watched her hungrily, from a distance. She was young and pretty. She was also the only young, pretty woman in the fort. But when it came to his chances with Weilin, he knew she may as well have been on the moon. Not only was she the commander’s daughter, she was also betrothed to Captain Fu Sheng, a cavalry officer who was stationed on the northern frontier. The captain visited the fort only rarely, but his reputation was enough to deter any young man who might have been foolish enough to make advances to his fiancée.

      Tonight, Weilin was reading by lamplight. The flame flickered in the sharp mountain wind, catching the soft curve of her cheek, the ripe lips. Her eyes were buried in her book. As they passed by, Huo was surprised to see her look up. Normally she ignored the soldiers coming and going around the fort but this time he saw her gaze follow Kuang as he passed. In a sudden flare of the torchlight, he was even more surprised to see a look of concern cross her face at the sight of Kuang’s bruised and swollen face.

      Kuang turned to hide his face from Weilin and hobbled toward the barracks as quickly as his aching legs would carry him. Huo hurried after him. “Hey, Kuang!” he whispered urgently, “don’t even think about it!”

      Kuang

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