The Initiate Brother Duology Read Free Page B

he had claimed to have fallen short of
his
Master.
    The Supreme Master felt the warmth of the cha bowl in his hands. Such a simple pleasure! He pondered the secret that, for so long, only he had known, and wondered who else might have this knowledge now. The sand, the sand. He turned his gaze to watch the grains as they fell.
    Lord Botahara, the Perfect Master, through the discipline of chi ten, had learned to control his subjective sense of time until the world slowed around him. All Botahist monks could do this to greater or lesser degree. But the Enlightened One had gone far beyond this. It was written that Lord Botahara would meditate upon the running sand until it not only stopped but, to His eye, it ran backward. The mere idea awed the Supreme Master. It was said that Lord Botahara could
move through time like a swimmer through water
. The monk had meditated upon this every day for as long as he could remember, but still, the meaning of it eluded him. He knew that it had been wise to make this part of the
secret knowledge
to be passed from one Supreme Master to the next. How was he to explain what even he could not understand? There was no answer.
    Sister Morima had finished eating, and he noted how well she hid her sense of shame. The Supreme Master lifted the lid of a porcelain bowl and offered her a steaming, white cloth. She took one to clean her mouth and hands.
    “More cha, Sister?”
    “Please, Brother Nodaku. The food, by the way, was delicious.”
    He poured, holding back the sleeve of the long kimono worn by all Botahist monks. Loose fitting pants that came to mid-calf, sandals, and the purple sash of the Botahist Order completed their clothing.
    Sister Morima took a sip of her cha, replaced the cup on the table, and composed herself. The moment had come.
    “Sister Saeja has again instructed me to ask you, in all humility, if members of our Order may come to study the scrolls written by Lord Botahara.”
    The Supreme Master stared into his cha, turning the cup slowly on the table. “Sister Morima, I have assured you that the scrolls you study are the same as those studied by my own Order. The last time we spoke I offered you my personal scrolls and I offer them to you again. The words you have are the words of Botahara as transcribed by the most well versed monks of any age. They are, I assure you, the most perfect copies possible.”
    “We don’t doubt, even for a moment, the abilities of the scholars who have transcribed Lord Botahara’s words, Brother. For us, this is a matter of spiritual interest only. You have come to be the guardians of this treasure, yet it is the legacy of all of Lord Botahara’s followers. We wish only to look upon the words of the Enlightened One, as you have. We don’t wish to remove them from your excellent care, Brother, but only to send a delegation—perhaps two or three of our most learned Sisters—to examine the scrolls—under your supervision, of course. There is no reason for you to protect the scrolls from us. We revere these treasures as do you.”
    “Sister, the scrolls, as you know, are very old. They are handled but once in a decade, when we unseal them to inspect for the slightest signs of degeneration. They are resealed almost immediately. All of us make do with our transcribed copies.
All
of us. I can say nothing more. I have an oath and a sacred trust which I will not violate. Please do not ask me to waver in this area of duty, Sister Morima.”
    “I would never ask that you break your trust, Brother, but you…you are
Supreme Master
. You may alter decisions that were made when the world was not as it is now. This is wisdom. Botahara taught that change was inevitable and to resist it, folly.
    “Perhaps two or three of my sisters could be present at the time of one of your examinations? We would not hinder you in your duty, I assure you. Certainly it is allowed for the followers of the
Word
to attend this ceremony?”
    Cunning old cow! How, the Supreme