Nightblade by Ryan Kirk Page B

crisscrossing all over it.
    Moriko shuddered. “Did it hurt?”
    Tomotsu lowered his head and his voice. “Yes.”
    “I’m sorry.”
    “Don’t be. I’m not. I still think about escaping sometimes, but there’s no way. Sure, you can get outside the walls, but they’ll find you. They can sense you no matter where you are. But life here isn’t too bad. The food is good and as long as you follow what the monks say, life is pretty comfortable. We don’t really want for anything, and they do make us stronger. Both physically and with the sense.”
    Tomotsu took her out into the grounds. The five buildings were arranged in an arc opening towards the main gate. One building was a supply building, holding all the food and goods for the monastery. The other building closest to the gate was a training center than was used during the winter and during inclement weather. The next two buildings in were living quarters, one for the students and one for the monks. Each held about fifteen to twenty people, so the monastery never had more than forty residents.
    The main building was, as she had guessed, the home of the Abbot. It served several ceremonial purposes and was the center of all activity in the monastery. Students were not allowed in without permission until they became blood-sworn monks.
    Moriko suffered from a sense of claustrophobia. Every day of her life the world had been open to her. She had explored woods and forests, free to go as she pleased. The world was large and wide. The monastery was small and confining. She couldn’t see over the walls. She wanted the trees more than anything else right now.
    At the end of their tour, which didn’t take very long, Tomotsu offered her a bed next to his own. Nobody else was using it and he told her he’d watch over her and keep her safe as she got used to her new place. Moriko gladly accepted, childish love warming her heart in a cold place.
     
    As Moriko was being shown around the monastery, Goro made a visit to the Abbot’s quarters. The girl concerned him. He needed the guidance of the Abbot. When Goro entered the sanctuary he saw the Abbot was in conference. He walked silently to a corner, knelt and bowed his head to the ground, his forehead resting against the earth. Nervous, he waited for the Abbot to speak to him.
    The Abbot was finishing a meeting with a local official. Goro tried to listen in, but the two were close and the conversation hushed. He couldn’t make out what was being said over the other noises of training trickling in from the grounds, but it was easy to see the Abbot ruled the conversation. The local official was bowing and nodding his head while the Abbot radiated an air of authority. Goro loved to watch the Abbot work.
    Goro tried to keep his smile to himself, but when he failed he didn’t worry. No one would see with his face pressed to the ground, the perfect image of obedience. Almost everyone who came to the monastery, no matter how great, was humbled by their visit. Although different monasteries operated differently, Goro was pleased to be part of one whose respect and knowledge were so well preserved. He knew from his travels that some other monasteries sealed their doors to the world.
    He thought the idea repugnant. There was always a debate about the role of the monastic system occurring between the Abbots. The monasteries faced a unique set of challenges. They were the sole proprietors of the sense, a power coveted and feared by all governments and people. They were also mandated to remain out of secular affairs, which in practice meant staying out of politics. It was this mandate which caused consternation at the Abbots’ council. Some Abbots believed that the monasteries should remain separate, opening their doors only when necessary.
    Perseverance, to Goro’s delight, was involved in the affairs of the world. Not in a way that broke the letter of the mandate, but other abbots had questioned the spirit of the work. The Abbot of