The Highwayman

Share your stories and poems with us here.
narhwal90
Global Moderator
Posts: 3509
Joined: Mon Jan 25, 2016 3:10 am
Location: Baltimore, MD

The Highwayman

Post by narhwal90 »

Chapter 1
===============================

We were at breakfast. The newcomer was among us, cleaner than the day
he arrived, now shaven and washed and in a new robe. Privation and hard
experience on the road still marked him, but he awoke with the bell and
limped into the hall on time. It was not long before the murmurs began,
at first quiet and I assumed this was the usual sparrows chatter when
the master was not among us. But suddenly the meal was interrupted by
several of the monks leaping up and turning on the newcomer. "Devil!",
"Murderer!" and other monks pointed and began standing. The newcomer
cowered and struggled backwards to shield himself, now trapped by the
men behind him and the benches, expecting blows given by monks of very
respected practice; a sudden fight in the meditation hall.

CRACK!- the master's staff struck the floor like a lightning-stroke and
all froze. He walked into the room. Though prone to dragging his
sandles, the master's gait was even and in the silence each click of the
staff end on the stone chastened us. Some of the monks began to sink
back to their cushions- "Stand right there!" he growled, and everyone
froze again for we all knew of the master's eye.

The master stood in front of the terrified newcomer, now sitting upon
the floor amid the monks standing around him. The master bowed slightly
and signed half the varada with his free hand. Several monks muttered
and the master looked up sharply, CRACK! again with his staff, and
commanded "Silence!" in a tone I had never heard him use.

"Attend me", said he, resuming his quiet manner. "Yes, this is the
Highwayman, among us. Why?" And we knew this was an instruction, meal
forgotten. The master began his slow walk down the aisle and back, as
he often did in lectures. This day, with the monks frozen, the hall's
decorum gone, his slow tread was as a tiger stalking the jungle, all
watching him pass. "He has touched us all. The dead. The children
bereft. Rape and pillage. We still mourn."

"Monks," he said, "recollect yourselves. Years past, would you dare
stand before this man, curse him to his face? No, for you know well who
he is. Are you such cowards that you will do so now he is weak? Shall
you grasp anger when its indulgence is safe? Shall we have revenge,
then, when it is easy?"

All turned to follow as he walked, down the room, and back. Among us,
embarassment and chagrin dawned, and the master continued.

"What about lust, shall you hire a courtesan in another land away from
knowing eyes? Shall you choose ignorance among the foolish?"

Standing again in front of the newcomer, his face hard as his gaze rove
among us, he said, "Monks, assist this man back to his cushion and
restore him his meal, today he is your teacher. Remain standing. I
shall expell from this company any man who mutters."

Shocked, his neighbors quickly did so- the master never used such
threats.

"Highwayman, that day years ago, when we met, what happened?"

The newcomer, closed his eyes, and slowly replied. "We robbed you and
others along the road, we beat some, killed some, stole horses."

"Just so", said the master, "and we spoke. What was said?"

The newcomer replied, "I demanded the money from everyone, and killed a
man who resisted. You were the first to hand over money and urged the
others to do so. I said you were a wise man."

The master nodded, replied "and you said more as well, did you not?"

The newcomer, now pale, looked down at his hands and said "I said you
were wise to obey since I could kill you all as easily as breathing,
because I fear no man. I said 'Do you not fear me?'"

The master inclined his head and continued, "And what did I say?"

The newcomer replied, "You said 'I do not.' I found that unusual, and
put my blade to your neck and asked again. You replied the same, so I
asked why? You said 'My life is not mine, nor is my money'. I had
killed many, some died pleading for life, some fought, some cursed me,
some bargained, some cowered but they all died. You looked at me
without their fear and anger. I told you I could kill you with a flick
of my hand, so why should I not? You replied 'This moment is yours, the
next may not be.' I was interested and told you 'I fear no man, this
land and all in it are mine; I go where I please and do as I like, what
moment is not mine?' You told me that all things pass and a time might
arrive when I become sick or old or a rival might take everything from
me. I remembered the old days- how the boss's head cracked open when I
threw him down- how I took his house and his women and killed his sons.
The first fear I ever knew arose in me. My men were all around me, but
after years, they were no longer partners. They did as I bid them but I
could always see them thinking and some I had killed to keep my place.
I turned and left so you would not see it, but I always knew you had".

The master paused, the hall so silent that flies could be heard outside
the door. He said "That is so. Why are you here?"

The highwayman said, "Time passed and I was betrayed, just as you said.
My friends murdered in their sleep, my house was burned around me. I
escaped the flames in an underground storeroom and crawled out with
nothing. To stay would be to die- all my places owned by new people, no
allies living, old partners with new loyalties. I have lived since,
with nothing. I have nothing, I hide in the streets, hungry, cursed,
beaten near to death and robbed, no strength and no health. I saw the
monks and recognized you, followed you here because I am hungry. You
were the only one who ever stood before me face to face without anger or
fear and yet you did not turn me away at the gates. I do not understand
why you took me in."

"Monks;" said the master, "Those standing, this man has exposed you.
Consider well your attachments, and what it means to assault the weak.
Those who mutter, this man revealed your weakness. Consider well the
instructions on gossip. Those who stood aside as some of our number
assaulted the lowest among us, this man has revealed your cowardice.
Consider this. You are all instructed."

He paused, and continued, "As to why the Highwayman is shaven and among
us, I will say only this; which beings shall be forsaken, which shall be
rescued and who chooses? His name shall be 'Sesal'. Monks, sit and
resume the meal."

The master glanced at me, "Teach him." was all he said. The master was
always like that, words as tools, no more than he needed.


...
narhwal90
Global Moderator
Posts: 3509
Joined: Mon Jan 25, 2016 3:10 am
Location: Baltimore, MD

Re: The Highwayman

Post by narhwal90 »

Chapter 2
===============================


I came to the master later in life, fatigued of the jewelry business,
children grown and wife gone. My entry into the Life was easier than
the Highwayman's, I simply donated my savings and home to the monastery
and so found an empty cot and a cushion in the hall. The master
accepted me like I was entering a hotel, only later it became clear to
me that was his skill again at work.

Having spent a career working metals, the master put me in charge of the
tools. Seeing to the axes, shovels, plows, forge and saws became my
task. The monks take the tools out for the day's work and bring them
back bent, dull, broken, edges turned by stones. It is my secret
pleasure to watch the monks so disciplined and mindful in their studies
and meditation be so heedless and neglectful of a garden spade.

As always the master demonstrated skill in means; in the tool shed, one
can work the day in solitude. The Highwayman would be away from the
monks and their memories, and now I had someone to work alongside. I
did not ask, nor did he talk for those first weeks. It was well the
fields were busy, we had much to do. The method in the tool shed was to
work the forge in the morning before the day's heat, then clean & repair
the tools as they came in from the fields. Those needing extensive
repair became part of the next day's work.

Even in the busy season there is often an unsanctioned break when the
last of the work comes out of the forge and the fire banked, but before
the afternoon's work begins. It seems nowhere else in the monastery
there is a similar interval with nothing to do and no duty calling.
Perhaps the nature of the work does not attract the hall's masters of
practice, and so they do not observe idle hands. Or, perhaps they see
it and do not begrudge the privilege of a blacksmith resting from the
forge. I like to think that for them the indication of practice is that
every stove has tongs and pokers, the axes are sharp and the shovels are
ready.

While the days passed I watched the marks of his privation ease. One
day I saw he didn't flinch when I handed him the pail of drinking water
and cups we use on these occasions.

"Sir, " said he, "may I ask about the master?"

"Certainly."

He continued, "Why did he take me in, give me the cot and this work?"

Life has its moments, this seemed one to me, so I considered. "The
master accepted me some years ago. I arrived here having tired of a
life in the trades, donated it all, and he also accepted me with nothing
more than a nod and a word to the steward to find me a place. Others
are extensively questioned, some must wait, he also turns some men away
though cushions are available."

"I don't know his reasoning but it is rare for one he accepts to depart.
The skilled and younger among the monks are sometimes sent off to other
temples, others arrive here. I am the blacksmith, so am not consulted
on such matters."

"Sesal, I believe that if the master accepted you, it was not a whim.
His focus is always the monk's hall and the practice. He may or may not
speak to you, but he observes all that happens. If he has not spoken,
then he is waiting for the right time to do so."

I watched as anguish and confusion washed over him, and he continued.
"Sir, this place for these weeks, it is heaven compared to the streets.
There is a cot to sleep in, enough to eat and a robe to wear instead of
the rags and filth. How do I keep my place and why me when so many
deserve it better?"

I said "I will tell you what the steward told me. 'Monk, you are
accepted into the hall and your previous life is past. Your commitment
is to be to your practice and that of your fellows, while you uphold
both you earn your seat.' I have been here some years now, few men have
been sent away. Occasionally one leaves, being unsatisfied for some
reason, but he never accepts a man twice."

I considered further. "There are many forms of practice. We all sit
and attend the talks. You have seen the skilled ones who sit for days.
And the others who master the doctrines. But see also, as was pointed
out to me, practice is found everywhere. You see the work we do here,
how we prepare the tools. It is the same in the library, the kitchen,
the fields. My friend Tegas whom you have not met, his practice is to
mind the fences up in the hills, to husband the flocks and herds."

"Sesal, the important work of the monk is to observe his mind. The
thoughts are easily seen, but what is beneath them? If you do not have
a thought, do you still exist? If you are blind do you still exist?
The same for touch, taste, smell, hearing. We find these things are
related but not the whole of it, yet they are the only tools we have to
understand so the work is tricky and prone to error. You may note I
speak in terms of tools. The masters in the hall use other language.
The mind is observed at the forge, in the fields and on the cushion. By
working here, you practice for yourself and for the others. Where would
we be without the tools or the fences? Without the cushions in the
hall, or the books?"

He responded, "But how can I be among you such as I am- murderer,
thief.. I have tried to count the men I've killed, the women... so many
and I cannot remember them all..."

"Hush" I interrupted, raising a hand, "In this order, none may be
forsaken, men or women. The master works alongside the womens' temple,
they turn away no woman who chooses to serve. Until recently the
womens' temple brought work to us here, but they accepted a pair of
women smiths- very skilled, especially in brass. I have seen their
commissioned work in town- the screws and finishes are exquisite. The
trades among us sometimes have occasion to visit, so we may yet work
together."

"Sesal, attend now, there are five rules we follow here. We cannot take
what is not given, we may not speak falsely, we may not kill, no
congress, no intoxication. The men I have seen driven out have gravely
departed from those rules. Those are the precepts you must follow, your
deeds before and what may be done are not for me to discuss. You have
seen the masters of practice instruct and correct the monks, they may or
may not work with you also. Observe your fear like the lion does the
mouse, it cannot hurt you. Learn its ways and its tricks- do not react
to it. Likewise anger, likewise ignorance. We all learn to do this."

We were interrupted by the first workers arriving from the fields
carrying the usual load of blunt and dirty tools, and so passed the
afternoon. I was not suprised when Sesal was later asked to attend the
master, somehow he always knows his hour.
User avatar
FiveSkandhas
Posts: 917
Joined: Sat Jun 29, 2019 6:40 pm

Re: The Highwayman

Post by FiveSkandhas »

I like it. Waiting for chapter 3.
"One should cultivate contemplation in one’s foibles. The foibles are like fish, and contemplation is like fishing hooks. If there are no fish, then the fishing hooks have no use. The bigger the fish is, the better the result we will get. As long as the fishing hooks keep at it, all foibles will eventually be contained and controlled at will." -Zhiyi

"Just be kind." -Atisha
narhwal90
Global Moderator
Posts: 3509
Joined: Mon Jan 25, 2016 3:10 am
Location: Baltimore, MD

Re: The Highwayman

Post by narhwal90 »

Chapter 3
===============================


Sesal began appearing at the lectures and in the rotation of attendance
upon the preceptors. Always at the back of the room, he was among the
last to arrive and the first to depart, but he never missed a lecture or
a lesson. He never spoke and was never called upon, so we realized he
was under specific instruction. As he had few other opportunities for
conversation, we frequently talked while in the tool shed. He never
discussed the past or the other monks, but I slowly learned about his
somewhat unusual status. The master required him to neither speak or
associate with the other monks. If accosted he was not to respond in
any way- but to accept all. He kept to the novice's discipline in all
respects.

The wisdom of the master's instruction was clear- some of us who had
suffered cruely by his hand in the past could not relinquish it. None
were so ill-conditioned as to act but lingering gazes could be seen, his
cushion and cot frequently received less than correct treatment. I
asked him about it once.

"It is nothing, sir. The master has discovered and recounted to me what
I have done to those monks, he told me the names and the places so I may
never forget. My instruction is to accept all that comes my way; the
anger, the slights- for I have earned that and much worse. A misplaced
cushion is nothing, but to offer them no apology- it is daunting. But
the master showed me how an apology coming from my mouth is yet another
injustice, my apology is to be through my conduct."
narhwal90
Global Moderator
Posts: 3509
Joined: Mon Jan 25, 2016 3:10 am
Location: Baltimore, MD

Re: The Highwayman

Post by narhwal90 »

Chapter 4
===============================

Several times a year the master led us on retreat to the mountain
temples. He got along well in flat country but found the steep paths
difficult. The master insisted on carrying a pack, never asking others
to do what he could not, however the monks contrived to reduce the
weight of his. He probably knew, but all of us carried something and
since we made better time there was no difficulty. Sesal always kept
him in view but as always never spoke or approached him. Sesal had a
different appearance outside the monastery, though he did not attempt
concealment he somehow merged into the shadows more than the rest of us.
But everyone was different outside the walls, some were afraid and prone
to jump at a twig snapping. Having travelled when younger more than
most of the company, I relished the road, being prone to recalling the
fantasies of my youth. More than once I felt the master's eye upon me
as I awoke from reverie.

As we passed through towns, Sesal pulled his wide hat low and tried to
be small- even moreso when we passed the brothels with the ladies
taunting us, and the jeering drinkers outside the saloons. He mentioned
to me on several occasions that he saw old acquaintances among both.
But few look closely at a group of monks slowly moving along, there
being little prospect of money or business among them.

It is not always evident but the jealousies and conflicts plaguing the
world are among us as well. Rivalries among orders have a way of
perpetuating, particuarly in isolation. The master tolerated no such
attitudes amongst us, but other temples were not so fortunate. It
happened that we passed some remote temples of other orders and were
accosted by a large group from several of them. These were poor
examples of monks, unshaven, unwashed, shabby- swinging clubs of
firewood, pickaxes, screaming insults and running at us as if to rid the
earth of our presence. We monks threw off our packs and quickly moved
between them and the master, but Sesal did not stop and instead strode
towards the group running at us. As he moved I saw all at once how care
and time had straightened and firmed him, he was a different man moving
quickly and surely over the path.

They converged to attack him but Sesal grabbed the first and threw him
bodily down. Some backed away as he felled another with a single blow
to the man's face sounding like a mallet striking stone. Stooping for a
dropped club, in one stroke he smashed a pickaxe from a third man's
hands, who dropped screaming to his knees holding shattered fingers to
his chest. The rest turned and fled as the master called "STOP!"

Sesal halted on the spot and we all watched as he straightened, dropped
the club, and regained his customary stature, as if awakening. He
turned, familiar again and walked back to us, eyes downcast. The monks
parted warily around him, and as he got to his place in line the master
resumed the pace. So we continued the day's walk. The master said
nothing, but murmurs in the hall about Sesal disappeared and his cushion
was never jostled again. To this day groups of us pass those temples
without incident.
narhwal90
Global Moderator
Posts: 3509
Joined: Mon Jan 25, 2016 3:10 am
Location: Baltimore, MD

Re: The Highwayman

Post by narhwal90 »

Chapter 5
===============================


In the warmer months the temple is a regular stop for various kinds of
pilgrims, sometimes the number of vistors among us exceeds the number of
monks. The master prefers us to be visible, we are to be the examples
of practice, to inspire. The more cynically inclined among us lean
towards viewing this as entertainment rather than inspiration, but the
master and his secretary have sharp ears therefore the various offices
of the monastery inspire many visitors. The librarian debates with the
visiting students and exhibits manuscripts, Sesal and I have a steady
trickle of personal items to repair or ornament. The practice masters
select monks for long meditation sessions in the hall, all precisely
arrayed on the cushions, showing the discipline of our company.

The bustle and interruptions are an invitation to practice, one may
discover impatience when the day's schedule presses and more visitors
arrive, asking the same questions over again. I have watched
ill-mannered children run about the hall among the monks, touching them,
blowing in their ears. My skill on the cushion is mediocre at best,
those monks certainly inspire me. I once saw a monk catch a running
child who tripped on the corner of a cushion & set him back upon his
feet, eyes closed without breaking his poise.

Our order permits no personal ornamentation, but the visitors often
request some momento of the visit, so I ply my skills making small items
from scrap for them; ferrules and caps for staffs, buttons inscribed
with our temple's sigils. Occasionally visitors will hand me small
implements to repair and utensils to sharpen. By the master's
instruction we are forbidden to touch weapons or take in paid work from
the pilgrims, so I turn away some requests but I have repaired many
knives and lanterns.

I recall the master speaking once on this topic, "Monks, we renounce
fame, prosperity, praise and likewise by our practice we are not
concerned with censure, decline, disgrace. We keep to the practices we
are taught and are not preoccupied. But outside the walls, such things
are viewed as important and many suffer accordingly. We are to be the
examples, our actions proclaim our creed, thus we must have relevance
outside the walls. We engage and are seen."

And so by stories of meditating monks saving children from tripping, a
small elegant button, and a glimpse of a rare commentary, we show the
world our practice.
narhwal90
Global Moderator
Posts: 3509
Joined: Mon Jan 25, 2016 3:10 am
Location: Baltimore, MD

Re: The Highwayman

Post by narhwal90 »

Chapter 6
===============================


After the morning meditation, the master asked Sesal and I to join him
in his office. After we sat, he turned to me. "You know some of this
story already I believe, but please forgive me the repetition." I
nodded, he continued "My predecessor here was Iman, it has been over 30
years since he passed. This temple was constructed ages ago but when he
arrived, unused and abandoned, a home for wild dogs and weeds. We owe
him for all this-" gesturing towards the window, and continued. "He
arrived here as a young man having been sent by the Dawn temples at the
request of the then King, to spread the teachings and improve the life
of the people. That was before the roads so the trip took well over a
month, but he was a courageous man."

The master paused, then "In the deep hills he encountered a young woman,
destitute, in rags and alone. Strong in his training, he halted and
shared his food, tended to her feet and sunburns. She needed several
days to recover her strength, my master hunted to provide her meat,
despite our precepts. And so he learned her story- a courtesan, hired
by a merchant to accompany him in a convoy but discovered by the wife
who cast her out in the mountains to die in the wild. You are aware of
the risks we run in association with women, Master Iman was a strong and
passionate man, he knew them as well."

"My master gave her his work robe and fashioned her a hat, sandals and
staff according to our methods, and he resumed the trip. She chose to
accompany him. He told me of the trial, alone in close company for
several weeks of travel with a young, grateful and experienced woman; in
such cases the monk boils with desire and has only his training to keep
the precepts. Though in nearly continuous sore temptation he did not
yield, and we also owe her our gratitude for not pressing him."

"And so they arrived here. Master Iman gifted her the robe and sandals,
and they parted, he to the governor and her to find some kind of life.
Naturally, the news of the appearance of a monk in company of a such a
woman spreads far and wide and persists for many years despite the truth
of the situation also becoming evident. Master Iman was quickly made
unwelcome in the government houses. Thus, he began work on our temple
alone. You have seen the empty alcove amid the shelves in the library,
that was his room for nearly ten years. We keep it as he did to remind
us."

"Master Iman's first sangha was a mixture of the city's leavings; rag
pickers, convicts, beggars, the weak, the invalids. The first of them
arrived because the guards ignored the temple grounds and so was a place
they could rest. Master Iman only asked that the men follow the
precepts and work according to their capability. Those who could
usually stayed. Our first gardener was a pickpocket, the first cook was
a slave cast out for becoming lame. The first smith sifted through
burned buildings for scrap metal to make the tools. All actions are
known by their consequences, even the most obsessed critic could not
find the examples of riotous impropriety they lust after. From the very
beginning my master scheduled work parties out in the city, sweeping the
abandoned alleys, bringing water to the hovels and so on. You see the
houses and markets outside the walls now, they are the consequences. We
are a school of action."

"The woman resumed her trade as courtesan, but never forgot. An honest
word here and there, a sincere response instead of a ribald comment,
mountains may be moved by such things. The governor never gave my
master countenance but it was also found that the other temples ignored
us and as our temple prospered, questions of annexation or property
rights did not arise."

"Monks, the courtesan eventually arose to prominence. I was a novice
here when she caused the women's temple to be founded. She visited the
master once, here in the monk's hall. She wore the old robe and
sandals, entirely deceiving the monks at the gate who thought she was
one of us. I think that convinced the master to assist her more than
anything else. We were all assembled in the hall for a lecture, she
timed her arrival perfectly. I seldom saw him suprised but when she
swept off her hat and bowed, hair everywhere, his jaw dropped and he was
at a loss for words."

"She passed away recently, at the palace, and this story reached the
Queen's ear. We have received a royal commission to make a statue of
Master Iman and Mistress Belia. Our rule does not permit us to house
such things here so it is to be installed in the city's park. Monks,
you two and the smiths from the women's temple are to be at the
governor's office tomorrow afternoon, there to arrange and carry out the
work. The commission is for bronze, to be cast in the royal armories at
the capital. The librarian has assembled drawings of Master Iman, and
somehow of Mistress Belia."

"Blacksmith, " he turned to me, "you four have leave to travel according
to the work and return when it is complete. You are senior so are given
the title of Master, here is the sash. Clearly it is not sewn in our
manner, it was made by the women's temple from fragments of material
collected by the women they serve. The seal upon it is provided by
the Dawn temple itself. Represent us well."

"Master Smith, here are the letters of introduction suitable for the
temple in the capital. The women are a special case, use appropriate
measures in accord with our rule. They will await you at their temple
gate tomorrow morning after the services. You are both instructed,
prepare for the journey."

The master is rarely informal, but a quick smile flashed over his face
as he said "The gardeners will serve in the tool shed, perhaps it will
still be here when you return".

I could only nod and bow my head, holding the sash of fragments brought
tears to my eyes. I knew the women he meant, having helped build their
walls and doors, some of whom had never known a clean bed of their own.
Some of the fabric had been handed down from mother to daughter or other
pieces treasured as the only remnants of an old life wrenched apart.
Last edited by narhwal90 on Fri Nov 27, 2020 2:31 am, edited 1 time in total.
narhwal90
Global Moderator
Posts: 3509
Joined: Mon Jan 25, 2016 3:10 am
Location: Baltimore, MD

Re: The Highwayman

Post by narhwal90 »

Chapter 7
===============================

The women's temple was as true to the hour as ours. Introductions
accomplished we arranged in order of seniority, dressed in traveling
form and set out for the governors office. I found it disturbing to
suddenly have authority in this way. Despite training in measured pace
and composure, the myriad forms of imagined failure would arise in the
mind. I gained a new appreciation of my master's skill; I was only
conducting a group of four on a single project- he had several temples
and many dozens of monks to manage.

Nevertheless we arrived, none of us ever having entered a buiding such
as this. Uniformed footmen quickly took our packs and hats, quietly
informed us of protocol and forms of address, and we were delivered to
the governor.

"The Monks of the Temples of Dawn", intoned the secretary and we bowed
in our fashion. The governor eyed us speculatively, "You are the
leader?" he asked of me, seeing the sash. "Yes, I am Master Smith", I
put forth as steadily as I might trying to emulate my master, sure that
my voice would quaver. "Very well", said he, and gestured to the man on
his right- "This is Captain Tong, of the Queen's Guard. Since you are
now on the Queen's business, he and his squad will escort you to the
capital. Captain?"

The man was resplendent in armor, buckled tight, a massive hairy face
looking for all the world like a resting lion, eyeing us. "Thank you
Governor" he replied. "Master Smith, my orders are to escort you four
and your baggage to the capital. I am to provide whatever transport is
needed and travel at your convenience. What do you require?"

A test, I thought- but my master has prepared me. "Captain, those in
our order may not impose our just burdens on others. It is our custom
to walk and carry our own packs. We have come with sufficient supplies
for a weeks travel on clear roads in good weather. I would only ask for
enough supplies and transportation so that we need not delay overmuch.
On extended pilgrimages we eventually accomplish day-long marches,
perhaps we may begin in that fashion."

I saw the governor smile privately and the Captain responded "Horses?
Carriages?" "None, Captain." I replied, " the temple has a donkey we
use sometimes, to help carry supplies for longer trips."

"Captain Tong", interjected the governor, "the Dawn Temple monks are
known for frugality in travel. A single donkey will be sufficient for
what they do not carry- food and baggage for themselves, we expect a two
to three week trip."

"Governor, the Guards do not employ donkeys in any capacity. They shall
have a pack horse. Monks, when will you be ready to leave?"

"Captain, we have our materials with us, we may leave now." I replied.
The captain gave me a lingering look and turned to the governor, "Sir,
by your leave we will depart." The governer stood and replied, "By all
means, and good luck". He turned to us and gave a good approximation of
our bow. "Monks, fare well". The captain stood and stalked out the
door, the secretary slipping aside to guide us out.

The captain walked briskly through the building and out the main
entrance, ushers scurrying behind us with our packs and hats like leaves
in the wind. Once outside he called "Fall in!" and ten men materialized
before us into two identical groups of five. "Company, these are the
Dawn Monks for the Palace. They choose to walk. Quartermaster!"
"Sir!" One of the men saluted. "Acquire one pack horse for their
baggage, and provisions for two weeks."

He turned to me again, "Master, do you have dietary requirements?" "We
may not take alcohol Captain, but are always content with what is
given."

"Quartermaster, they will have two weeks of marching rations and one
pack horse." Eyes flickered at us from among the men, "SILENCE!" he
bellowed. "We leave in one hour. Dismissed!" And the men vanished.

Captain Tong and his quartermaster were also true to their hour. Our
packs loaded onto the horse in a fashion certain to be approved by all,
we set out. The captain astride his own magnificent armored horse,
brass ornamentation shining on the straps, the helmeted men precisely
arrayed before and behind us with shields and swords creaking and
clinking, we set out at an easy walk.

Crowds gathered among the neighboods we passed, watching us go past.
The men marched with such a precise cadence that I could not count any
errors. After several hours we had well departed the city, far out
among the fields waving in the breeze. One of the men filtered back to
me. "Master, " said he in a quiet fashion, "I am squad leader Pai, the
captain asks do you wish to stop or change pace?" I was suprised, this
was a pleasant walk, and carrying no pack, the long accustomed aches had
not grown upon me. "Squad Leader Pai, " I replied, "we usually walk in
this way until 1 hour before sunset, when we camp. If there is reason
to stop before then, we are also content." He winked at me and filtered
forward. The march continued apace, until near the appointed time.

"Halt! Make camp!" came the captain's call. He chose well, a raised
field beside the road for the tents, trees for cover and a stream not
far off. We obtained our packs from the horse and were chivied away by
the quartermaster as we began to unbridle and brush the animal. The
captain came up to us, "Monks, these are army horses used to army ways,
my men care for them. We have tents for you, if you wish." He pointed
to four, being raised by two men each while he spoke. The four of us
glanced at one another in suprise, "Thank you captain" I replied, "but
we cannot sleep in such while others in the company lie on the ground."

His appraising look bored into my head, he turned and called "Strike
them!" and the men instantly collapsed the tents and began rolling each
into a bundle. Resuming his look at me he said, "Please make camp
however you prefer. And as my guest, please join me for dinner, we
should make some choices for the next marches." He bowed slightly and
walked towards his larger tent already up with the fire started and pot
on.

Sesal and the younger nun Kema prepared the fire for tea. The older nun
Jubah and I arranged the sleeping mats around it. "Master Smith," she
said, "our instruction is to camp in company, but make toilet
arrangements out of view. The two of us are always to be together, or
in company with you two, and never among the soldiers." I replied,
"Just so. My instruction is to make any accomodations necessary
consistent with our practice. I will mention it to the captain."

After the usual tea service but before the meal I left the three to
attend upon the captain. He stood and smiled as I arrived, "Welcome
Master Smith" motioning to a camp stool he said, "Please sit, we will
serve." I recognized Pai, he and another man briskly set tables in
front of the two of us, laid utensils and bowls, ladled thick soup,
slices of bread and cheese. I held up a hand as Pai made ready to pour
wine into my cup- "Please, I may not have wine; water or tea is most
welcome." He paused and looked at the captain who raised an eyebrow,
turned and quickly reappeared with a cup of water, setting it down
before me. I replied with a formal bow of gratitude to each of them.

The captain and I ate in silence. The meal was of such quantity I could
barely finish, but it was evident some kind of competition was unfolding
between the monks and the soldiers so my duty was clear. The captain
savored his wine until I finished and thanked him again. "These are
marching rations." he said, "They are suited for easy packing and
preparation for long duration travel by foot, in warmer climates. Cold
weather rations are different. You may have seen the men eating as you
walked up, they always eat first."

"It is most filling." I replied, "We pack very lightly so we cannot have
such variety. When it is permitted we sometimes forage or harvest
fruits, but I have not had such a rich serving in a very long time.
Were the other monks served likewise?"

"Yes" replied the captain, "Please save your rations, this is a Queen's
commission, we have orders." I replied, "Thank you for raising that
point. My master and the head of the women's temple have given us
instructions as well, I think it wise to share them. The women are
instructed to always be together, or in company with us- and never to
mingle with the soldiers. When washing, they will need privacy- perhaps
a tent would serve. I am authorized to make choices along those lines
but I am also beholden to their head mistress."

"Well said." replied Captain Tong "A tent will suffice, we have made
similar arrangements in the past. We frequently handle delicate
matters."

"Pai!" he called, "Sir!" replied the other, expertly freezing mid-stride
while carrying the plates and utensils. "Arrange a private tent for the
monks' use." "Yes, Captain!" he replied. I watched as he nodded to two
other men who disappeared among the horses.

"Master Smith, I am told your order prefers a morning ritual of 30
minutes before breakfast and beginning the work of the day. If it is
agreeable I propose we awake one hour before dawn to handle these
things. In this way we may depart with the light and make good time."
He glanced at me and I replied, "We accept, that is most agreeable."

Nodding, he continued "We have several choices of route, low foothills,
moderate climbs and the mountain passes. The low path adds more than a
third week of travel, the passes will save nearly a week but are
difficult for the horses. I suggest the moderate path which should
amount to two weeks travel, I believe your party will handle it
adequately. Do you have a preference?"

I replied, "the moderate path is acceptable." "Very well" he said, "in
that case, I must bid you goodnight- I have company business this
evening." I arose and bowed, and made my way down the hill to the
others.

"Master, the soldiers said you asked for this tent?" Sesal inquired as I
walked up in the fading sunset. "It was a suggestion." I replied, "but
it is for the womens' private use, apparently it is how the army handles
such matters." The two women looked at me skeptically. "I suggest
trying it, else the soldiers who set it up will have wasted their
effort. I shared our instructions with the captain and he says the men
are used to complex situations and it will not cause difficulty." Jubah
stiffened and began mutinously "We are monks, not 'complex situations'"
and I was suddenly unsure of all my training and intentions, confusion
where I thought I understood. Kema touched her arm, whispered something
like "Let us try it" and they moved the flaps aside to go in. In the
rapidly fading light I saw Sesal grinning widely. I felt an urge to
make a rude gesture and barely restrained it, instead tried to replicate
the master's glare to freeze him in his place, which only caused his
shoulders to shake. Thankfully the darkness prevented further
embarassment so I retreated to prepare my mat.

I awoke in the pre-dawn to a discrete cough, seeing the other monks
stirring. In moments waves of realization about what I had forgotten to
say and do before sleeping crashed into my mind. Embarrassment, again,
thankfully still in the dark. All of us up and mats rolled, I conducted
a brief sit in the usual way using one of the small traveling bells I
had made for the temple. While we sat, the soldiers could be heard
preparing but so quietly, nothing louder than the clink of buckles or a
horse chuffing, all drowned by the birds as the sky brightened.

As we finished the morning service, soldiers arrived bearing chairs and
a tray of tea and four slices of very coarse bread and cheese. The
other monks looked at me, so I sat first. They followed suit and we
shared the curious experience of an unchoreographed and unfamiliar
breakfast. We completed preparations, the private tent vanished.
Finally recalling my master's methods, I inquired after the monks' feet
and condition- very important, for monks are never left behind. If a
monk becomes sick or goes lame and cannot walk, then the march is
suspended. On one occasion a pilgrimage was canceled because a monk
sprained his ankle on a high path, we constructed a litter and all took
turns on the poles as we marched back to the temple. It does happen
that monks pass away on the march, in these cases we find a suitable
place for burial. Our order does not maintain burial sites for what
inch of the world is not already a graveyard?
narhwal90
Global Moderator
Posts: 3509
Joined: Mon Jan 25, 2016 3:10 am
Location: Baltimore, MD

Re: The Highwayman

Post by narhwal90 »

Chapter 8
===============================

Second Squad Leader Quongkui walked up briskly, introducing himself.
"Monks, shall we depart?" I nodded as we donned our hats, his men
whisking away our packs before we could take them up.

Following the previous day's example, we formed between the two squads
but the formation was looser. No armor or weapons were carried, simple
tunics for all though the captain's bore various stripes. I did notice
the weapons loaded on a pair of the horses, one to each squad. Though
not in cadence the soldiers walked easily in formation. The morning
progressed and I saw the captain occasionally dispatch pairs of runners
ahead, sometimes one would run back other times we eventually caught up
to both. We sometimes passed other groups of travellers and wagons
standing beside the road and I realized the purpose of the runners- to
move aside oncoming traffic so the company was not impeded.

We maintained our custom of walking in silence, so we may not be
distracted or provide distraction to others, but at the midday halt I
had an opportunity to speak with Pai. "Squad Leader, may I ask a
question about the march?" "Of course Master Smith" was his reply. "I
see the travelers of the road move aside for us, are there occasions
when we would move aside for others?"

Pai nodded, "It is a question of rank and orders. You see the runners
we send ahead, it is the usual practice when circumstances permit, other
companies do the same. When they meet the question is usually resolved
by the runners so the proper company makes way for the other. We yield
to a larger force or one led by a higher rank. It is possible for the
higher rank to incorporate the other. We have orders from the Palace so
could only be subsumed in that way in the event of war or dire
emergency."

"I see the weapons nearby on the pack horses, do you expect fighting?"

Pai nodded, "We do not, but it is well to be prepared. We keep them in
this way in case we meet another company, so we may don them to greet
other soldiers in proper order."

"I have not met soldiers before." I commented, "Have you been in many
wars?"

Pai smiled, "A few, but I should also say a soldier's time is usually
spent marching or waiting and then marching again. Sometimes we dig
holes for no apparent reason other times we fill them in. It is better
when no-one has to die and we can sit around the campfires and
complain." He eyed the sky, "We will have rain, perhaps you should
ready your cloaks."

And so we did. Aside from extreme weather, Dawn Monks travel
regardless. Good and bad weather is equally transient and it does not
do to grasp or avoid. The hissing rain is another mantra, full of small
and large voices, if one cares to listen. The soldiers somehow managed
the hot marching rations despite the soaking rain and mud, and we
continued the march.

The sun returned to us in the foothills, where we paused for a rest day
before the long days of mountain roads. We cleaned and aired our mats
and packs. Aware of the soldiers gaze, we conducted a formal mid-day
service with all the chants and blessings. In turn the soldiers
drilled, we marveled at their precise coordination, the formal calls and
responses. On one hand it resembled walking meditation forms our school
studies, but the frequent loud commands to the squads by their leaders
did not. Jubah remarked quietly to me, smiling, "Sometimes I wish our
practice masters were as direct." I could only incline my head slightly
in agreement.

Discipline was relaxed for the balance of the day, which I spent in
conversation with the captain. I noticed my monks sitting among the
soldiers being taught a game of dice to much laughter. "They are
gambling?" I asked him. "Oh yes, but I am told those of your order do
not carry money so they are safe. But you have cost me a weeks pay
already." he replied. Aghast I started, "Captain! But I have done
nothing..."

He laughed, "Master Smith, the company placed bets on how you would fare
on the journey. I have conducted numbers of ascetics on various
journeys who preferred more comfortable transportation and deference, so
I and much of the company bet against you four lasting a week yet here
we are." Our two winners are among the second squad, they accepted long
odds without hesitation and are now wealthy. Perhaps you could
encourage them to donate to your temple." The last he delivered with
barely contained mirth, and I was nettled.

"Captain, our order strictly enjoins us against such things, yet we are
involved by doing nothing. How is this just?" The captain smiled
further, "Sir, soldiers seeing what they see and doing what they do, we
perhaps adopt attitudes strange to many- yet observe there, we see two
worlds as different as may be in harmony if but for a moment. It gives
me hope. I should provide fair warning, the men will bring out their
drink soon, your monks may need rescuing."

Our precepts intact for the moment, we retired. I considered
fruitlessly on the ominous thought of what the master might say upon our
return when my monks began teaching the others soldiers' games.
narhwal90
Global Moderator
Posts: 3509
Joined: Mon Jan 25, 2016 3:10 am
Location: Baltimore, MD

Re: The Highwayman

Post by narhwal90 »

Chapter 9
===============================


The terrain changed rapidly during the next day's march, becoming ever
steeper and narrow though the paving was well-kept. The first sign of
trouble was one of the runners returning at a run. The captain raised a
hand as the runner stopped, the soldiers instantly went quiet and still.
He called "Company, action! Hill bandits in the town." and the men
flew to their weapons, in moments fully armed and helmeted. As they
stepped back into a close group the captain called again "First squad
away, second fan out. Go!" The soldiers ahead of us raced forward
parting around the captain's horse, those behind ran out to the sides
and behind us and drew their weapons. "Quong!" called the captain,
"Sir!" he replied striking his pike on the ground. "Bring them up
behind. Monks, follow Squad Leader Quongkui, do as he orders." With
that he spurred the horse into instant motion after his men.

Quongkui glanced us over, then said "We must follow quickly without
stopping, please adjust your tunics now if needed. If we are attacked,
do not run or speak. Stay between these four men at all times. Ready?"
I nodded and we began a brisk jog forward at the center of the squad,
the horses trailing behind. At first we smelled smoke then heard the
crying and shouts, among the trees edges of buildings became visible and
suddenly we arrived at the clearing. Captain Tong on his horse towered
over two men cowering on the ground while one of the soldiers threw a
third to the ground among them and another soldier stood behind with
sword poised to strike, the sunlight sparkling on its edge. Pai and two
of his squad appeared between the trees around the clearing, prodding a
forth man forward at the point of a pike.

The forth man was thrown to the ground with the others, Pai walked up to
the captain and saluted. "Captain, I dispersed two men through the
trees while the other two and I entered the clearing. These three were
beating the man of that house, the forth tearing the clothing from his
wife. The forth ran while we subdued the others, my men caught him and
I joined them in chase. We saw no signs of others. Sir, there are
children hiding in the trees."

Captain Tong looked to Quongkui who nodded, then leapt to the ground,
drew his sword and stood over the prisoners his visage hard.
"Sentries!" he called and Pai raised his hand in a signal, his men ran
to the corners of the clearing and into the trees. I noticed the wife
holding her dress, half supporting and half hiding behind the husband,
silently sobbing. "Quongkui!" called the captain, "Sir!" "Conduct the
monks to the villagers so they may provide aid and collect the
children." "Aye!" was the response, he made a sign with his right
hand, his four men sheathed their weapons and moved closer. I motioned
to Jubah and Kesah, "Please preceed us and speak first. Suggest that
the wife accompany you into the trees to find the children, we will aid
the husband." "Yes Master" they answered in unison, reached the woman
and knelt to her side, speaking quietly to her.

"Squad Leader", I asked, "May we obtain our packs? The man needs
attention, perhaps the women can find the children." "Of course" he
replied. He indicated a man, and I nodded to Sesal, the pair jogged
back to the horses. He indicated two more and said "Escort the women to
find the children, join only if there is need." I bowed to the wife who
looked in awe at the nuns as they guided her upright and moved towards
the trees. I knelt to aid the man, terribly bruised and holding a
possibly broken arm. Sesal arrived with the healers pack and we
proceeded with the basic care we had been taught in our master's temple.

"Master Smith" said the captain, arriving behind us, "what is his
condition?" I stood and faced him, "Captain Tong, the man has been
beaten by staves and badly bruised. No bones are broken but his head
has been struck severely, he cannot speak coherently and will need
several days to recuperate."

"Company!" called the captain, "Secure the prisoners and make camp.
Close order. Pickets on the paths, scouts out." The clearing instantly
surged with activity. Captain Tong spoke to me again, "Master Smith,
please make your camp now in the house with the family. Guards are
stationed outside the door which should be left open with a clear path
inside. Extinguish the cooking fire and do not light any others until
instructed. If any of you find it necessary to leave the house do so
singly and a soldier will escort." He turned and stalked back to the
prisoners.

"Let us move him inside" I spoke quietly to Sesal who was now very pale.

With the children found and family reunited, along with the four of us,
the house was crowded. A discrete knock beside the door indicated our
packs set outside alongside the private tent. The husband awoke slowly
and remained in bed at our request, quietly reassuring the children.
The wife sat beside him and watched us move about. I occasionally
glanced out the door, the captain's tent was up but no cooking fires in
evidence and only a few men visible, in full armor and weapons, moving
about. I saw the four prisoners, bound hand and foot sitting facing the
wall of a woodshed, each tied to a stake.

Perhaps two hours later Squad Leader Pai knocked at the door and nodded
at me, "Master Smith, the captain requests your presence. He orders
that those within the house may light fires as needed but remain
inside." "Of course" I replied, and nodding to the others I left with
him.

"Master Smith", the captain stood as I approached, "Please sit." He
gestured towards a stool, and continued "How is the family?" I replied
"They are together, the husband is awake. We have prescribed pain
medication, rest and salves for the cuts. The beating was severe but
relatively brief, he will be fit for light tasks in a day but full
recovery will take longer." "Very well", the captain replied. "It is
important. We have standing orders to capture bandits. When we find
they have killed, we are to execute them. When there has been no
killing, each is to be branded on the right arm with the King's mark.
Those caught again with such a mark are summarily executed. The King is
not patient with banditry- it is by his hand that these roads are made
for the use of his people, yet such men use them to prey on the weak.
It is rare to capture them as we have, usually lookouts spot us and they
vanish deep into the hills, becoming honest and mild villagers until we
pass. We have found and confiscated their horses, but such men do not
carry anything to identify their origins. They were sloppy and will pay
for it."

"Captain", said I, "Is there not concern for the family once we leave?
And might we not be attacked by a larger group in response?" The
captain replied "I have found that most bandits do not have the courage
for it. The continuing sight of our fresh brands on their comrades
shows the presence of the King, it is more effective than their bodies
on pikes by the roadside. They will avoid this area for some time. If
attacked, we fight to the last man, and those sent behind us would wash
the mountainside in their blood. Such things have happened, but I
believe it unlikely here. These are poor examples, no lookouts, old
horses shod for plowing, no equipment besides their clubs. Wretched."

"Master Smith, I must name you four as witnesses in my report of this
action. Thus, you as Master must also observe the punishment. Will you
do so?"

I considered, "We comply with the will of the King. We may not raise a
hand against another, but we may not deny what has occurred or refuse to
answer for our experience."

He nodded and rose, calling, "Company! Fall in and witness the King's
Justice!" The soldiers formed their squads, Pai and Quongkui standing
behind the prisoners. "Squad Leaders! Present the prisoners." The
four were untied from the posts, hauled bodily up by their collars, and
shoved forward. Captain Tong addressed them. "You four were caught
raiding this household, beating and molesting. Your horses and goods
are forfeit. The King's punishment is branding upon the right arm. Do
you reply?" The men did not, looking at their feet. He nodded to a
soldier who pulled a brightly glowing iron from the captain's fire,
grabbed the first man's arm and pressed it to his flesh. The iron's
hiss was louder than his scream and shocked me deeply. So went the
other three and nausea rolled through my stomach as the odor of burned
flesh reached my nose. "Justice is done. Release them." announced the
captain, and looking at the men again, "Leave now. Walk back to your
dens. You are now marked men, if caught again you will be executed. If
there is suspicion, you will be the first arrested."

The company watched in silence as the men staggering and gasping, eyes
streaming with pain stumbled out of the clearing. He turned back to his
men, "Company! Dismissed. Four man watches." and the men dispersed.
The captain turned to me, noting my shock, he moderated his tone and
continued, "This is an ugly business sometimes. Master Smith, please
follow, I must speak further."

I preceeded him into the house, he halted at the threshold with all eyes
upon him and removed his helmet, tucking it under an arm. He began,
"Householder, the King's justice has been done upon them. Each was
branded with the King's mark indicating banditry. If caught again the
penalty is summary execution. We have confiscated their horses and
packs as due to the King. This was done in conformance with our
standing orders, but we are not authorized to pursue them further. Are
you aware of their identities, their homes?"

The husband's voice was slow and quiet, obviously still in pain, "I do
not know them, they have been coming every month to our home and others.
They take food, money, horses, tools- this time they came for her- each
time more of them. This was the worst by far."

The captain nodded, "I will state that in the report. Their career in
this area is over. The army maintains patrols in the mountains, we
cannot guard all paths but the report will bring several through the
area in the next months."

He paused and continued, "The company is camping here tonight, we march
at dawn. The danger is passed, though the meal is late this evening it
is nearly ready. We will serve it here shortly. Please move about
freely but stay within the clearing for the night. Good evening.", he
turned and walked out into the lowering sun.

I turned to Sesal, he was still very pale and looked ill. "Let us camp
outside" I spoke quietly and he awkwardly began collecting his mat.
"Monks, " I said more loudly, "We shall conduct silent practices
individually this evening, and in the usual way tomorrow morning." As
we arranged the mats outside I added, "Sesal, if you would like to speak
we may walk." "Thank you Master", he replied and bowed his head but
said nothing further.
narhwal90
Global Moderator
Posts: 3509
Joined: Mon Jan 25, 2016 3:10 am
Location: Baltimore, MD

Re: The Highwayman

Post by narhwal90 »

Chapter 10
===============================

The mountain dawn was muted by a firm drizzle, dripping off the trees
into the secret spaces among the pine needles. Our service was brief.
The soldiers formed up, this time armored and helmeted and closely
grouped. We spent the day in a brisk march, always climbing. The
captain did not put out runners, the sight of the oncoming armored
company sent other travelers to the sides of the road like a plowshare
turns aside the soil. I found the view out over the plains was a fair
trade for stiff legs and sore feet, particularly after the drizzle left
us. It became clear the captain had a destination in mind, as we
crested a rise with nothing but clouds and sky beyond, the path opened
downward onto a broad alpine meadow. "Company, halt, make camp" came
the order and the relief from the march I often felt on pilgrimages
flowed through me again.

After the camp was set, Pai walked up. He began, "Monks, the captain
sends his respects. We have crested the pass, the way down to the
capital is easier, the captain estimates we will reach it in two days.
The captain invites the Master to dinner."

He looked at me, thus I replied "Thank you Squad Leader, I gladly
accept."

"Good evening Master Smith", the captain greeted me, "and to you
Captain, thank you for the invitation." "Please sit.." and as was the
practice we ate in silence. "Master Smith, please accept my regrets for
imposing todays march upon you four, and my thanks for your sustaining
it. The intent is a demonstration of strength for the watching eyes in
the area, to dissuade them from lawlessness."

I replied, "It was a tiring march captain, but I have inquired after my
monks, the four of us are in good condition. I hope the example
suffices."

He bowed slightly and continued, "Thankfully we have a downhill course
now, and relatively shorter marches. I mentioned previously I have
conveyed a number of monks but never such as you and your companions-
may I inquire as to your school?"

"Of course" I replied.

"Master, " he began "we have observed your formidable discipline. Not
one of those I have conveyed before could have sustained the pace we
set. Some of them could barely manage traveling by carriage, with
servants. It is not inspiring to observe a monk with servants, barely
able to lift himself in and out of a carriage, yet you four have kept
pace with career infantry on the move in the mountains, through good
weather and bad, never asking for respite."

"Captain, you may overestimate us. It is true we kept pace, but we
could not fight and run as your company did with the bandits. Perhaps
long practice in service and pilgrimages keeps us in sufficient
condition but it is nothing special. Our creed is service."

"Ah Master, that speaks to my question. Clearly you spend much time in
meditation, and I have occasionally seen groups of your monks in the
capital working with the poor. I have the impression of two distinct
practices, how are they related- for that matter how do you worship the
gods? We passed many roadside shrines yet you did not offer services.
Years ago I conveyed a monk who stopped at each for lengthy prostrations
and offerings, it prolonged the journey to such an extent we had to
dispatch runners with reports and to obtain supplies."

"Captain, we follow the dharma as we see it. Others see it differently,
I cannot comment about them. This school's view is that the bodhisattva
vows are instructions. The meditations are used to obtain clarity of
mind so the vows can be followed in a way to free other beings from
suffering, and not create more of it. We assert that appropriate
practice is service to other beings, not in aspirations or rituals.
Thus we use what meditations and ceremonies we have to focus our service
to others. Our temple on the plains was founded by a single monk, sent
there to carry our message. We serve first those in the most need, so
our temples and lay houses are filled with the poor and the sick, the
orphans and the outcasts. We accept the gods of others, as beings. We
vow to serve them also, but we cannot raise one being above another. We
deny no-one their beliefs and rituals, which bring them hope and
courage."

He reflected and spoke, "Is it not treason to say the King is no higher
than a commoner?"

"Captain, that is not my meaning, forgive me. We are the King's
subjects and live by his grace. My meaning is that all beings encounter
age, sickness, death. The King does, though long and well may he live,
and so does the mouse. There are old stories telling of the births and
deaths of gods. Thus, we see all beings suffer in this way. So we
serve them all- it is unjust to serve the King and not the mouse."

Your order is celibate but also has nuns, is this not complex?"

"It is." I agreed. "Poverty and disease do not distinguish between
genders so we serve women also, yet that is not a task for a man- not
because she is undeserving but that the passions are always a danger.
So much suffering arises from them, our order chooses celibacy and
separate temples joined in work. It is often painfully inefficient, yet
we also find that many who join the school view it as a welcome refuge.
My wife had passed away before I joined the order, being a man I do miss
close female company on occasion but it has also become clear to me how
frequently desire becomes a distraction, or worse, a preoccupation.
None of us are constrained to stay, there are always some who leave.
Those who cannot remain celibate must leave, such distraction to others
is not permitted."

I held up the edge of my Master's sash. "This was sewn by lay residents
of the the women's temple from bits of fabric they collected and saved.
They are the women who otherwise die in the streets when they have
nothing and nothing left to sell. It was made for this trip in
gratitude to a monk of our order and an abandoned courtesan who together
founded our women's temple. When I lack hope and courage, I consider
such things and what they signify."

"You follow the dharma, so then is your goal to be enlightened?" he
asked.

"Possibly." I replied. "We study the sutras extensively and work at
following their instruction. Different schools have different views of
this- some present enlightenment as a transcendent stage of being
achieved through practice. Others take the position that to name goals
is to imprison the mind in distinctions and distractions. Both
perspectives are supported in the sutras. Our school's view is that
these are different methods which produce similar results. Beings vary
in nature, capacity and view therefore different methods are needed to
motivate practice. Accordingly, the schools proliferate. I will now
demonstrate if you wish."

He smiled and leaned forward, "Please do." I knelt and picked up a
pebble. I held it up and stated "This pebble does not exist. Why?"

I very much enjoyed his look of confusion, remembering so clearly my own
when the master first instructed me. I think it is somewhat unfair to
present a contrived example in this way, but its simplicity and effect
as a brief introduction is undeniable.

"I beg your pardon for being flippant, Captain. This is an introductory
method, my master did the same when I was a novice. I will explain."

"One concept on which all the schools agree is that all things are
empty; a stone may be crushed to pieces, then grains, then powder, there
is no indivisible piece that makes the stone what we see. The stone is
no more than its parts held together by the circumstances of its
creation, entirely vanishing and dispersing when those conditions no
longer apply. What is true of ice is true of the stone, and likewise
true of all things."

"Similarly, it is transient. One can make a clay pot. Undeniably,
someday it will be broken and so eventually return to dust. The pebble
is likewise, and so also true of all things."

"The stone also has no identity. As you carve it, when is it no longer
a stone? Reduced to dust, then reformed, is it the same stone? Every
bit of it present before remains yet the shape is now completely
different and unrecognizable; it is and is not the same stone.
Accordingly, identity as we recognize it, is a matter of mind not of the
object."

"The various schools agree that all things and beings share these
characteristics, from dust to gods."

I raised the pebble again. "We can observe its surface, discuss its
polish and color, weigh it. But do we actually observe it? We would
say it is smooth but in examining its surface through a glass we see a
world of cracks and mountains. Which is real, the smooth surface or the
mountains? If it has mountains then it cannot be smooth, yet the mind
says it is when the fingers touch it. If we left this pebble here
through ten winters and picked it up again, the work of the ice will
have changed its surface; some of the mountains may be smooth, some of
the smooth split into canyons."

"Captain, we contend that no item exists as our minds perceive it
because all things are constantly changing, from one instant to the
next. The pebble from a moment ago is not the same as this one now. It
is curious that this introductory point remains for the most experienced
monk. The nature of our senses is to identify because they grasp at
appearances. The monk accepts this and through the training of his mind
via meditation he finds it easier to recognize that each identification
deceives him."

I paused to collect my thoughts a moment, then resumed "It is more
correct to say nothing exists as we think it does, but we do not deny
the world around us. In it we see the things and beings, understanding
their existence is not as we observe it. I mentioned passions, as well
as old age, sickness, death. These are not concepts, all beings suffer
from them- you have seen it also. The intent of the dharma is not to be
an exercise in philosophy, it is to free beings from the endless cycle
of this suffering. Exploration of emptiness, transience, non-identity
like we just did is instruction that clarifies the mind so it is not
captivated by thoughts and experience, or the passions, or fear. The
clear mind can act to free beings without causing more suffering.
Obtaining clarity is arduous work, the mind acting as it does, but we
insist on developing it."

He responded, "So do you mean that clarity is the same as enlightenment?
And, what does it mean to be free of suffering, do you say that your
practice prevents old age or sickness or death?"

"I cannot say clarity is enlightenment, Captain. As may be found in the
sutras we train the mind and so become free of grasping. The mind
subtly attaches to the senses and the thoughts. Attraction, aversion,
ignorance all obscure its fundamental clarity. Some schools assert that
all beings are fundamentally enlightened, but the afflictions of
attractions, aversions, ignorance obscure its expression. Viewed in
such a way, one might interpret clarity as enlightenment. I am inclined
to the view that to establish a state of being as a goal, to define its
properties, is to perpetuate more identification and grasping, so I try
to avoid doing so. That said, some schools present documentation of
their monks who they say have attained enlightenment, but I have no
useful opinion on such things."

"As to old age and death, this is a subtle point. Our practice does not
prevent them, all beings are subject. Suffering is the fear of these
things; the fear of losing a loved one, fear of the unknown when facing
one's own death, fear of poverty- or fear of imposition of the
undesired. Suffering is also the powerful desire for circumstances to
be different; to be well when sick, to be wealthy when poor, to be fed
when hungry. It might also be that the wealthy man, surrounded by
luxury on every side suffers because he wishes life was simple again, to
live among friends without concern over hidden agendas. We may well be
driven like animals by our fear, desire, hunger, wresting what we wish
from others. To escape this compulsion, to accept and not to take, to
give instead of to impose, this is the result of practice and the
reduction of suffering."

"I have perhaps talked overlong, for which I apologize- so I will
conclude this way. I joined the order about 15 years ago after tiring
of a life in the trades; always grappling with profit and loss, value
and cost. It grew increasingly sterile to me, I saw people mounding
wealth around them, desperate to keep it, others fighting like dogs in
the street over baubles. In the end I felt the time had come for a
different way of living. The Dawn Monks appealed to me because they
live the renunciation of such things; the Dawn Monk owns nothing and so
lacks nothing. His occupation is service, and he trains accordingly.
With no concerns over ownership or status he is freed of all
encumberances to serving any being; he acquires nothing, is owed
nothing, has nothing other than his service, freely given. Captain, I
have had a lifetime of experiences yet none have so profoundly changed
my sense of life as serving the lowest of the people in the streets. To
assist them to gain their feet, care for them, learn their stories and
sit beside them as they die makes the world bright and open around me.
What need have I of a transcendant state of being?"

The captain smiled, "Many thanks Master Smith, I appreciate your candor
and direct speech. I think I will look upon many things somewhat
differently. But, I also think we must retire- the coming marches will
be easier but we would do well to start early."

Rising, I gave a formal bow and replied "As you say Captain, let us
rest."
narhwal90
Global Moderator
Posts: 3509
Joined: Mon Jan 25, 2016 3:10 am
Location: Baltimore, MD

Re: The Highwayman

Post by narhwal90 »

Chapter 11
===============================


Our company marched into its headquarters in the capital in close order,
armor resplendent, to the formal calls of the squad leaders. We passed
the gates in style, a rank of guards on either side clashed their pikes
and saluted in unison to which the captain and soldiers responded.
Within the gates an extensive plaza beckoned, surrounded by other gates
and buildings large and small. The captain ordered a halt and dismissed
the company and a small horde of grooms and orderlies ran out
of various buildings, taking the horses and greeting the men. The
captain hopped off his horse, unbuckling his sword and weapons belt,
handing them all to one of the soldiers. He took off his helmet,
tucked it under an arm and turned to us.

"Monks, welcome to the headquarters of the Queens Guards. Please follow
me so we can report to the Commandant. The orderlies will deliver your
packs to your quarters in the guest's hall." As he walked towards a
very grand building flanked with more guards he continued,
"Traditionally, even civilians on the Queens business reside here,
though occasionally in the palace also. It is expected your time will
be largely occupied in the foundries so staying here is a better use of
it. There will be several audiences with Her Majesty, but they are
matters for the future."

Captain Tong led us past a variety of offices and scurrying workers, all
standing aside and saluting as we passed. Some passersby he saluted,
but he never broke his stride.

Finally we arrived in a long hall lined with chairs, some occupied by
other officers. The captain walked up to a very sour looking secretary
at an immense desk covered with stacks of papers and a variety of stamps
and writing instruments. He saluted sharply, and firmly intoned
"Captain Tong reporting with the Dawn Monks, to see the Commandant".
The secretary glared at him for a moment, stood and disappeared through
a door in the wall behind the desk.

A moment later, he reappeared preceeding several officers shuffling
papers and looking agitated, glancing at us as they walked off. "Please
enter Captain" he said, sniffing and turning back to his desk. The
captain led us within.
narhwal90
Global Moderator
Posts: 3509
Joined: Mon Jan 25, 2016 3:10 am
Location: Baltimore, MD

Re: The Highwayman

Post by narhwal90 »

Chapter 12
===============================


The commandant stood behind his desk the captain halted just inside and
saluted. "Commandant Zishen, Captain Tong reporting the safe arrival of
the Dawn Monks". The commandant stood and returned his salute, "Captain
Tong, you made excellent time- nearly two weeks ahead of schedule- how
did you fare?"

"Sir," he replied, "the Dawn Monks are capable on the march- we took the
paved mountain path. Sir, we apprehended a small group of bandits, all
were branded. I have copies of the report."

"Excellent! And these are the monks." he said, turning towards us, "I
am Commandant Zishen of the headquarters of the Queens Guards, welcome
to the capital."

I bowed and replied, "I am Master Smith, of the men's temple of Dawn on
the plains, counterparts Jubah and Kesah of the women's temple, and
Sesal also of the men's temple." All three of my companions bowed as I
introduced them.

The commandant smiled, "Monks and nuns, keeping up with my soldiers on
the march- very satisfactory. The Queen thinks highly of the Dawn
Monks, perhaps this is another example of why. She will be pleased with
your early arrival. We will schedule the first meetings right away.
Captain Tong will escort you to your quarters and assign an orderly to
act as a local guide, he will also inform you of meetings and events as
they arise. Please be at ease, you are free subjects of the King so are
not confined. However as you are here on the Queen's business please
notify us when you leave the headquarters; sometimes Her Magesty makes
requests and it does not do to keep her waiting while we find her
guests."

He turned to Captain Tong, "Dismissed, Captain! We have the usual staff
meeting today, please report in detail there."

"Thank you Sir!" he replied, and turning to us, "Please follow me."
narhwal90
Global Moderator
Posts: 3509
Joined: Mon Jan 25, 2016 3:10 am
Location: Baltimore, MD

Re: The Highwayman

Post by narhwal90 »

Chapter 13
===============================

The entrance to the guest building had its pair of guards, saluting
Captain Tong as we walked up and entered. I asked the captain, "How do
they know we are allowed to be here when you are not escorting us? Is
there a password or armband?"

He smiled widely, "Passwords, Ha! The guards are informed of the
guests, our arrival in this way is the introduction. Besides selected
members of Commandant's staff, me and your orderly, they will only allow
entry of you four monks."

We entered an alove leading to several rooms on the ground floor, he
continued, "Ah, here we have Private Anjing, you probably recognize him
from the second squad, he is your assigned orderly. His orders are to
escort you anywhere in the city and keep you informed of schedules and
events, meetings and so on. If you have requests or need of anything,
he will address them. He is your credential everywhere, no door is
barred on the Queen's business. If you travel privately in the city,
please inform him- he is stationed here on the first floor for the
duration of your stay in the capital. But that is perhaps enough, I
must leave you here and complete our arrival. Private, show them the
building. Monks, it has been a great pleasure conducting you here, I
look forward to working with you further as the project moves along."
He smiled and nodded to us, turned and marched back out into the broad
sunny plaza.

The Guards' guest quarters were unlike any I had seen, even from my
working days gilding the houses and bodies of the wealthy. We occupied
an entire second floor of a stone building; room after room of polished
floors, hangings, sparkling clear glass windows reaching nearly to the
ceiling that rose to easily the height of three men. Several private
bathrooms with water running from copper pipes and brass fittings, whale
oil lamps instead of candles. The bedrooms caused us some concern, each
contained an extensive luxurious bed- innumerable pillows, blankets in a
rainbow of colors, even small stepladders to assist. The carpets
everywhere so deep walking on them was as if treading the loam and moss
of an undisturbed forest.

"Monks" I said, "we will keep to our practices. Two rooms, each with a
bathroom. Let us leave our traveling bedrolls arranged on the carpets,
and unpack into the cabinets as needed. We will conduct daily practice
together in the sitting room, moving chairs to make space."

"Private Anjing," I turned to him, "we will have need of cleaning
supplies for our robes, and perhaps facilities for cooking."

He nodded, "Master Smith, permit me to show you the kitchen and related
facilities on the first floor. Please use them as you see fit and
advise me of anything needed. At your convenience we bring cleaning
staff through the rooms, but they will not disturb any arrangements."
narhwal90
Global Moderator
Posts: 3509
Joined: Mon Jan 25, 2016 3:10 am
Location: Baltimore, MD

Re: The Highwayman

Post by narhwal90 »

Chapter 14
===============================

"Monks", I said the next morning after the usual services, "we are to
visit the first temple today, my master has prepared introductions for
us."

Private Anjing escorted us beneath the blue sparkling sky among the
towering buildings and trees and crowds thronging the streets.
Prosperity was easily seen on the wide public spaces, clean & bright
clothes, horses and servants. I peered down the alleys as we passed, no
signs of the slumped bundles of rags showing the presence of the poor
and sick.

Eventually the tide of merchants and commerce dispersed into larger
streets of houses and walled gardens, and then temples. Passage was
easier, and eventually I recognized the sigils of the Dawn temples
spaced along the outside of a long wall leading away down the street.
Before the gate, I bowed to the pair of monks there and greeted them.

"Brothers, I am Master Smith of the plains Dawn temple, with my monks
and our escort of the Queens Guard. May we enter and wait upon the
abbot?"

They quickly bowed and stood aside, "Master, welcome, proceed straight
along the main path, the offices are at its end and the secretary at
least is in residence." Bows again, and we entered. After being
escorted for so many days, the sudden transition to escorting others was
a suprise- reminding me again of how easily habits of view are
entrenched.

Upon the path, the temple grounds embraced us, insects and the quiet
scrape of leaves and muted footsteps became the common tongue. A faint
waft of incense welcomed us through the door of the temple offices.
narhwal90
Global Moderator
Posts: 3509
Joined: Mon Jan 25, 2016 3:10 am
Location: Baltimore, MD

Re: The Highwayman

Post by narhwal90 »

Chapter 15
===============================

The abbot and I walked for a time through the gardens. He began
directly, "And so the lineage of Iman returns to the capital. I have
never met your Master though we correspond. He is not one for hasty
judgement yet you wear the sash and have not undergone the examinations,
the missions. If you would, please tell me of your practice at the
plains temple?"

"I am the temple's blacksmith, the task given me by my Master. Sesal is
my apprentice in the shop. I hold no practice rank. My master
conferred the sash to me before we left on this trip. My only claim is
that I helped in the construction of the housing of the lay women who
sewed it. My master and the abbot of the women's temple work together
closely. The women's lay housing was accomplished through their joint
efforts."

He was silent for a time, as we walked. Then he resumed, "Tell me how
it happened."

"I was accepted by my master shortly after the women's temple was
founded and their first sangha formed. The women of the sangha were
recently accepted from the region and all knew well the conditions of
those living in the streets of the city. Since the construction of the
men's lay housing was complete, the councils decided to work together
for greater effect. Thus, work parties were jointly formed by the two
temples."

"At the time, the women's temple had no blacksmiths of their own, so we
provided tools and supplies. I spent many days making the nails and
hinges, sharpening the saws, teaching the work parties how to measure
and use the tools. It seemed the work would go on forever, yet it was
quickly over. The final job for the men's temple was to help carry in
the effects of the lay women. I and a few others continued to work in
the womens housing from time to time, until Sisters Jubah and Kesah were
accepted- there is always a need for tools and repairs."

He glanced at me, and asked "Women blacksmiths?"

I nodded and continued "Yes, it is so- but I soon saw their work. The
two sisters with us are entirely capable. Neither of our temples are
prepared for large or complex forging or casting but that is not the
nature of our work; a determined woman in good condition can make a nail
or set of tongs as easily as a man. I am most impressed by the quality
and finish of their brass pieces- my fine work was more decorative in
nature being of precious metals. I believe their skill in copper alloys
is of great relevance to the project."

The abbot considered further, "So we have the results of Iman's courage
and flexibility- women blacksmiths on the Queen's business and an
unexamined Master authenticated by a sash given by the hands of those he
serves. Truly, all things are possible."

"Master Smith, you are invited to the Master's Council here as your duty
permits. This temple was founded over three hundred years ago, these
days we often find a consistency among those attaining a Master's rank;
memorized arguments presented in examination, service uncomplicated by
difficulty, sashes of fine material purchased by a noble monk's family
and sewn by tailors. I welcome your contribution. I wonder how often
we are prisoners of our methods."

I bowed.
narhwal90
Global Moderator
Posts: 3509
Joined: Mon Jan 25, 2016 3:10 am
Location: Baltimore, MD

Re: The Highwayman

Post by narhwal90 »

Chapter 16
===============================

Sesal and I rammed moulds in the mornings, under the direction of the
foundry master and his attendants, the women in the wood shop
fabricating patterns. Though in good condition from frequent exercise
none of us could keep pace with the foundrymen and patternmakers, hard
and gnarled from decades of toil. But having been assured of our basic
competence and endurance in the initial casting of test pieces to refine
the methods and alloys, they permitted our involvement.

On pouring days the foundry was an apocalyptic scene of shouts and
clashing tools, blazing white hot metal, smoke and dust. It was
immediately followed by the filthy day of breaking open moulds,
hammering and sawing the sprues and runners; triumph over the desired
piece intact, nestled in the sand or despair of another part ruined by
mould failure and all to do over again.

Despite the aching muscles I preferred the days spent working on moulds.
One could stay somewhat clean and I found the interplay of hammers
fascinating. One afternoon we observed groups of men forging chain
links, playing a song with their hammers striking the yellow-hot metal;
one man passing a rhythm to another while others beat time.

Our musical achievements with the ramming hammers were clearly modest,
yet I found simple rhythms developed over the hours we pounded the sand.
Was it a distraction or a form of meditation? I posed the question to
my monks one evening as the topic of a formal talk.

"Monks, we have been in the foundry for several weeks now, in the
pattern shop and the moulding floor. All of us have remarked on how the
mind may be observed during the work. I think it appropriate to take up
the question more formally, so the topic for tonight is, interpret the
experience of work as practice."
narhwal90
Global Moderator
Posts: 3509
Joined: Mon Jan 25, 2016 3:10 am
Location: Baltimore, MD

Re: The Highwayman

Post by narhwal90 »

Chapter 17
===============================

Our school's practice is to order responses from junior to senior, so
Sesal spoke first.

"Monks", he began, "On my first day as a novice my teacher suggested the
idea of work as practice. I had never viewed it as anything other than
a means of a living, but he showed me monks sweeping the walkways as
practice. I did the jobs given me. The actual work was not hard, but
once learned boredom began to set in. My teacher was waiting for that, it
was my first lesson on the tendency of mind; how to recognize
distraction and so release it. The experience of hours spent ramming
sand in the moulds is not different."

"I have observed several tendencies of mind. When we began working the
moulds I was often distracted by unfamiliarity of the work, mistakes and
clumsiness. I was familiar with the use of hammers from working in the
forge so that difficulty faded quickly. I then noticed the distraction
changed towards a tendency to idle speculation and repeated themes."

"I find ramming is more effective when the mind is not occupied in
that way, the blows are more consistent and suited to the pressure and
direction needed." Sesal bowed, concluding his comment.

Kesah bowed, and began. "My father was a carpenter, I and the rest of
the family worked with him for many years. As we create the patterns I
am often distracted with memories. The tools are familiar and I am not
clumsy however the recollections are unsettling. We are taught to allow
such to arise and subside, and not elaborate upon the recollection. I
have found it necessary to cry privately some evenings, to relieve the
turmoil." She bowed again, eyes streaming with tears.

After a quick worried glance towards her, Jubah spoke, "I have no
experience with woodworking so am only capable of the simplest of tasks.
Learning the basic woodworking skills reminds me strongly of taking up
meditation practice; it is easy to grasp at early success and mistake it
for competence. I struggle with embarassment when the foreman accepts
the patterns for casting and sees my work so obviously coarse. Clearly
this is something not to be grasped. I have found that approaching the
question as I was bidden when a novice is effective; observe my seniors,
model their actions, do not be concerned with mistakes. We are nearly
finished with the patterns and major casting, assembly and finishing
will begin soon. I have more experience with those yet wonder how that
may obscure insight." Jubah bowed, in turn.

I bowed and began, "I have been distracted by considerations of rhythm
in the hammering, and likewise strive to release them. I am working at
modeling the methods of the slaves ramming molds in the nearby work
bays. They attain a consistency of packing that I rarely match. If
nothing else I hope we can bring improved methods back to our temples.
I have never seen such control over the alloys being cast here. At the
moment study of methods and modeling behavior of the skilled seems to
the practice I respond to."

"Monks, thank you for particpating in tonights talk. We may retire.
Nun Kesah, if time away from the foundry might ease your condition you
have leave to spend any time you feel the need for at the woman's
temple."

She bowed, showing more composure. "Thank you master. These are old
experiences, old pain remembered anew. I will not allow it to interfere
with our project."
User avatar
Queequeg
Former staff member
Posts: 14456
Joined: Tue Jul 03, 2012 3:24 pm

Re: The Highwayman

Post by Queequeg »

Is this your writing N?
There is no suffering to be severed. Ignorance and klesas are indivisible from bodhi. There is no cause of suffering to be abandoned. Since extremes and the false are the Middle and genuine, there is no path to be practiced. Samsara is nirvana. No severance achieved. No suffering nor its cause. No path, no end. There is no transcendent realm; there is only the one true aspect. There is nothing separate from the true aspect.
-Guanding, Perfect and Sudden Contemplation,
narhwal90
Global Moderator
Posts: 3509
Joined: Mon Jan 25, 2016 3:10 am
Location: Baltimore, MD

Re: The Highwayman

Post by narhwal90 »

yep. I think I can only do it reasonably well when I'm not comfortable... the better chapters are when I'm supporting the 24/7 testing effort. Its not much longer this arc goes for about 24 chapters worth. We have 2 more weeks of testing h3ll, so maybe more of it will appear. I am concerned about derivative elements but it is a form of practice in some ways so I keep working away at it.
Post Reply

Return to “Creative Writing”