LITMIR.BIZ

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to the dim light of before. He rose to get his clothes, unsure what to make of their encounter, and wondering if she hated him now or whether she would be there again tomorrow.

      The Golden Stupa

      Vanya woke in a sweat. The sun had not yet begun its assault on the day, and already excitement and fear gathered in the pit of his stomach. He would not be free of either until much later.

      He dressed quickly and slipped out into the dark corridors of the dormitory. An attendant monk in the entrance hall noticed him, but said nothing as he passed. Outside the air was cool. A faint glow behind the buildings of Nalanda was the only indication of the coming dawn, but in the cloudless sky, the moon provided ample light to guide him to the stupa. He stood before it and looked up. The tower disappeared above him into the darkness. He muttered a short prayer and went inside.

      After two paces, he found himself in complete darkness. Keeping one hand on the wall, he stepped carefully until he came to the staircase at the back of the entrance hall. He began to climb slowly, feeling his way in the darkness. He came to a window that let in a trace of moonlight. Here he waited, reluctant to plunge himself back into the darkness. It was not long until daybreak, but with the light would come the heat of the sun. He decided to press on.

      At the second window, he stopped again to catch his breath before stepping once more into the dark. By the time he had reached the third window, his legs were heavy and he wondered how much farther he could go. A weak spray of sunlight seeped into the stairwell, bathing the grey stone in an unearthly glow. He rose and pressed on to the fourth window, where he stopped to look out over the surrounding jungle.

      Could he really travel to China, he wondered, and cross the highest mountains in the world? He attempted the next flight, but his wasted legs would take him no farther. He sat on a step and tears of frustration welled in his eyes. He feared he could not even make it back down the staircase alone. The thought of being rescued was too much to bear and it drove his descent on trembling legs.

      Outside in the courtyard he counted the windows of the stupa. There were thirty-three.

      He made his way miserably to the dining hall and a novice monk set a bowl of rice-gruel before him. He left it untouched and hung his head in sadness. A heavy hand touched his shoulder.

      “You are not yourself this morning, Brother Vanya,” Bodhidharma said, taking the seat beside his. “Is something the matter?”

      Vanya shook his head from side to side in bitter regret. “I am very much afraid I will not be accompanying you on your journey to Nanjing.”

      “Really? Why not?” Bodhidharma demanded.

      “I tried to climb the stupa this morning and was easily beaten.”

      A novice appeared quickly by Bodhidharma’s side and served him with a bowl of gruel, which he began to eat noisily. “That is your reason?” he asked between mouthfuls.

      That was the condition you set for traveling with you,” Vanya said.

      “It seems your desire to travel with me is not so strong after all,” Bodhidharma said.

      “I want to! I tried my utmost, but I couldn’t go any higher than the fifth level and there are thirty-three in total!”

      “Maybe so, but I am not leaving today, Brother Vanya. There is still time. You can’t become strong overnight. You need to build your strength gradually. If you really want to climb the stupa, I will help you.”

      “You will?”

      “Of course. You can start by eating properly,” Bodhidharma said, pushing Vanya’s untouched bowl toward him. “Then you can walk in the countryside and do exercises. In the evening, you can climb stairs. Not too many, just enough to grow a little stronger each day. Then, when your body is ready, you can attempt the tower again.”

      Vanya’s face transformed from sorrow to joy and he hugged Bodhidharma.

      “I will do as you say, Master,” he promised, and spooned down his breakfast with new resolve.

      While Vanya was exercising, Bodhidharma spent hours learning Chinese with Yin Chiang and the little scholar was delighted with the progress of his new student. When Yin Chiang announced that he would return to China with Bodhidharma, The Venerable Ananda was duly informed and was overcome with joy.

      In the cooler hours of dawn and dusk, they walked far across the countryside with Vanya. In shaded clearings they performed squats to prepare their legs for the hardships ahead; and when they had finished and returned to the monastery, Bodhidharma went deep into the dark forest to practice alone long into the night. After three weeks, Vanya climbed the tower again and reached the eleventh window.

      Summer was approaching and word from the mountains was that the snow was melting at the high passes. A team of guides was found to take them to the farthest borders of Assam and detailed travel plans were made. Vanya redoubled his efforts. Ten days before their departure, he reached the twentieth window. The next day, Bodhidharma ordered him to rest and massaged his thin legs with warm oil until they were able to bear his weight once more.

      Their preparations continued until three days before their departure, when all three monks had agreed to attempt the giant stupa. They rose at dawn and climbed together. Vanya slowed after twenty flights, but refused all help. Bodhidharma and Yin Chiang continued without him, until Yin Chiang was forced to rest and ease the cramps in his legs.

      Bodhidharma continued alone, placing one foot ahead of the other with no thought of the searing pain in his limbs. When he reached the top, breathless and drenched in sweat, he went to the window and looked out over the green landscape below. To the west he saw steaming jungle, to the south and east scrubland and desert, and to the north a soft haze blurred the horizon—the warm damp air of the Ganges.

      Some time later Yin Chiang appeared at his shoulder, too breathless to speak. They stood side by side and gazed out over beautiful Magadha in silence. Somewhere beyond the northern mist, they both knew the mountains awaited them, soaring peaks so high that the stupa of Nalanda was no more than a thorn in a green carpet that lay at the mountains’ feet.

      Vanya appeared on the staircase, grim-faced and determined, and hobbled slowly to the window. Bodhidharma put his arm around his shoulder to steady him and together they looked out over the verdant landscape below. No words were spoken. None were needed. Tears of joy pricked Vanya’s eyes at the sight of such beautiful country, followed some time later by tears of sorrow at the thought of leaving his beloved India to venture into an unknown land with his new master.

      Cavalry Charges

      The troop of Chinese cavalry had ventured far beyond the protection of The Great Wall and onto the endless steppes that belonged to none but the nomads. By day, the wind bit through their leather and armor and slashed at their faces with sharp desert dust. By night, the temperature plummeted far below freezing and any horse or pack animal that strayed from the herd was dead by morning.

      Their leader, Captain Fu Sheng, rode at the front of the troop, accompanied by his second-in-command Lieutenant Pai. Pai had served under Fu Sheng for almost two years, but still found himself uncomfortable in the young captain’s presence.

      “This is how I imagine the edge of the world,” Pai said, trying to make conversation, “Who would want to live in a place like this?”

      “Our fight with the nomads is not about land,” Fu Sheng said. “It’s about teaching the barbarians to respect the emperor’s power.”

      “Yes, Captain,” Pai replied smartly. It seemed Fu Sheng was in no mood for small talk.

      “You’re clear about your orders?” Fu Sheng demanded.

      “Perfectly.”

      “Then await my signal.”

      They had been tracking a Uighur warband that had been plundering Chinese settlements on the frontier. The attacks had begun when the emperor had decreed that all trade with the nomads should cease. The decree had deprived the tribesmen

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