The pure, fresh taste of the mountain water was vitalizing and energizing. He preferred the taste of the water to the typical salted tea, but he was taking a shine to the hot drink. He wasn't drinking now, but bathing; Heero used a wooden bucket filled with icy-cold water to wash his body, shivering from the temperature, rubbing soap all over him. Using a large body brush he scrubbed all over, feeling a lot better than yesterday morning when he had awoken so dizzily and confused. The air was still thin at this height and his body couldn't get used to the less oxygen in his blood, but he dealt with it as well as he could. Their stay at Barkhang was temporary; soon enough they'd be able to breathe normally. He reached for the second bucket of water to rinse himself off, but someone else was first, picking up the bucket effortlessly and tilting it, pouring its content over Heero's back and shoulders.
"Don't think I'm going to wash you every day," Duo said, carefully rinsing off the suds. "How do you feel?"
"I would recover much, much faster with a personal assistant like you," Heero quipped. "Especially when bathing."
"Asshole," Duo said laughingly and emptied the last of the bucket right on top of Heero's head, so he almost shrieked from the cold water.
"Hey!"
"Don't be such a whimp," Duo said and teased Heero's nose with the tuft of his braid. "Well? Finish bathing already, I want some breakfast!"
"Fine, fine…" He whacked Duo on the ass when he walked away, and got a rough towel thrown over him in return. "I didn't hear you bathe."
"I went swimming," Duo said and laughed at Heero's surprised expression. "The monastery has a swimming pool, isn't it great?"
"Heated?" Heero almost didn't dare to ask. Duo shook his head.
"Ice- and ice cold. It's all natural melting water, straight from the Himalayas itself. I thought I was going to have a heart attack when I dipped my toe in, but I really wanted to swim some laps…and I couldn't get bested by all those old monks swimming like they were going for the Olympic record!" Duo shivered melodramatically.
"This really is a fascinating place," Heero said as he dried himself off. His skin started to tingle from the roughness of the cloth. He didn't feel cold despite the bath, and the chuba was warm to wear, even with the right half of his torso bare. "It feels like a world of its own."
"In a way, it is a world of its own, yes," Duo said. "A harsh, sad world. Tsering and his fellow fighters aren't accepted and they aren't on the path to Enlightenment like the others. Still, if they hadn't been there when the monastery was in trouble, there would be no Barkhang today."
"You said they are guardians of the tomb of Kol-An-Anuum and his sword," Heero commented, a slight reproach seeping into his words. "Why didn't you say so from the beginning, when we started planning the expedition?"
Duo shook his head. "I didn't know until two days ago, when Tsering told me. We were talking as we were keeping watch over you."
"He kept watch over me too?" Heero couldn't help his voice reaching a higher pitch.
"There's nothing to get upset about, Heero." Duo leaned into him and placed a modest kiss right between his eyes. "We had to work hard to keep you alive. I couldn't have done it alone."
"I'm sorry," Heero said and lowered his head just a little. Duo ruffled his damp hair.
"We have to work together if we want to find the sword."
Heero finished drying himself off. "Well, if they are guardians of the tomb, they'll sure know where the sword is?"
"I wished it was as easy as that," Duo answered.
"I was afraid you might say something like that." He hung the towel to dry over a wooden rack and moved on to getting dressed. "What are the complications?"
"We'll talk about it after breakfast," Duo said. "Tsering will tell us about the sword, and how it can be reached - or not. There was also something else he wanted to talk to us about, but I don't know what, he wouldn't tell me yet."
Heero put on his boots. Tsering didn't seem like the kind of guy to be easily pressed into talking. Heero had seen his face and his eyes - this man had seen death and war, he probably could withstand torture for a long time. He had respect for the warrior-monk, and his jealousy was unreasonable and a little embarrassing, but his protective streak towards Duo was stronger than himself. Somehow he was sure that something bad was lying in wait for them, something terrible, and he didn't know why he knew.
"Finished?" Duo always got impatient when he was hungry, he was hopping from one foot to the other.
"Finished," Heero said and grabbed Duo's hand.
The ever-present tsampa was served for breakfast, along with tea, balep korkun - a type of flatbread - and chhurpi, cheese made from yak milk. The dining hall was large, but empty except for Duo, Heero and a few monks in a corner, discussing quietly.
Dunking his tsampa in the butter tea, Duo was munching on a piece of bread. "We'll have to let our friends know that we're alive and well," he said.
"My laptop." Heero put his mug of tea down. "Did it survive..?"
"Yes, it's right here, at the library. I didn't want to show it to you yesterday yet, because you were still a little dizzy and confused. I'm not sure if it works, though - you dropped it the moment you got that nosebleed and fainted. I could see a crack in the screen, but I just closed it and put it back in its case."
"Well, I don't think I should be complaining about that," Heero said. "After we've talked to Tsering, I'll try to boot it up. Wufei will be wondering where we are."
"Yeah." Duo heaved a sigh. "What a mess. And all because of one person."
"Are you referring to Kolanuhm or Bartoli?"
"Bartoli. It's not about the Khan at all, just his sword. Just think of it, Heero. There are no documents about Kolanuhm, not even here, and the Barkhang library is any Tibetologist's wet dream come true. They keep records here that'll blow your mind: the only official declaration of the location of Genghis Khan's grave, hand-written epistles of several Dalai Lamas, I could go on for hours! Yet, there's nothing to be found of a ruler who grew over two hundred years old. It's all about his sword, not the man himself."
"Agreed," Heero said. "Our goal is the sword, not the Khan. But how come there are no records of earlier attempts to retrieve the artifact? Or are there?"
"I'm not sure, I never asked Tsering directly about it." Duo hesitated. "It's not like you start a conversation with him about the sword easily. They are his guardians, but I don't think the Khan himself was loved. It's like burden transcending through time, getting heavier with every new generation, automatically installing loathing and resentment for a fate that's been thrusted upon you."
"And as a Buddhist, you're not…eh.. allowed to feel resentment at all," Heero said. "The weapons make it even worse. It's hard to justify that to the Path of Enlightenment."
Duo looked over his shoulder, to the thangka on the wall, a silk painting with embroidery, depicting the Siddhartha Gautama, the Supreme Buddha. "How would you feel if you have been tasked with something that put you at odds with the Gods you want to worship?"
"Tsering didn't strike me as someone who was loathing his fate," Heero commented. He finished the last piece of the typical cheese and doused it with the salty tea. "But then again, I take it he's difficult to read to anyone."
"Let's go to the library," was all that Duo said and he took up the dirty, empty plates and mugs to bring them to the kitchen.
"Good morning." Tsering sat on the same chair as yesterday. A mug of butter tea was in front of him, piping hot. "I have good news for you."
"Wonderful," Duo said as he sat down, shoving his chair closer to the table. He narrowed his eyes a little, just like Heero still not used to the dim lights of the many candles and butter lamps; it was quite a difference from regular, Western bulb light. "What is it?"
"My brother from Burqug Lamaling has arrived," Tsering announced as if Buddha himself had been revealed to him. Heero looked a little confused, even though the name rang a bell.
"The monastery where Noventa recovered from his expedition," Duo said quickly.
"We know of this Noventa," Tsering said. He pulled out a small, wooden lacquered chest so fast that neither Duo nor Heero could see where he actually pulled it out from. "Marshall Noventa, the great peace negotiator with a dark past. My brother brought something very interesting."
"That's the good news?" Duo asked, dumbfounded.
"Any news is good news," Tsering smiled, "unless the words bring great tragedy with them."
A silence. Heero's eyes were glued to the small chest, carved with symbols. Tsering all but stroked the wood, and popped the lid open.
"They stumbled upon the cave Noventa had taken shelter when he was traveling with his friend," the warrior-monk went on. "This is what they found."
He turned the open chest towards Duo and Heero, and curiously they leaned over the table top to see its contents.
"It looks like glass," Duo said, his voice obviously disappointed. Heero took a closer look. The glass was a little deformed, and the shards were dark at the edges. There was something amidst the broken glass; a small, incandescent light bulb and a few fragments of black plastic.
"It's a broken flashlight," he said. "A torch."
"So what?" Duo looked from Tsering to Heero and back again. "What does this all mean? Noventa dropped his flashlight in the cave, give the man a break. He was panicking because his friend was submitting to hypothermia, the same that happened to Heero!"
"Look closer, Duo Maxwell," Tsering commanded him. Duo pouted, but obeyed.
"What's that darker stuff?"
"I think… I can guess what it is." Heero wished there was better light, but he had the sinking feeling he didn't need it after all to figure out what the strange substance on the glass was. "I think you can guess it too, Duo."
"Well, I'm all out of ideas," Duo immediately retorted.
"It's blood." Heero pointed at the glass. "I'm positive that it's blood."
"That's no good news at all," Duo said, grumping, and he stuck his hands into his chuba, lips pursed in an annoyed frown. Tsering closed the chest with a gentle movement.
"This is the dark past of Marshall Noventa," he said. "My brother still remembers the day when he arrived at the monastery, panicked and dehydrated, disorientated, completely out of his mind. During his fever, he spoke of the sword and Kol-An-Anuhm, and my brother immediately understood what Noventa was after. Still, my brother didn't discourage him, and didn't take his notes away from him. If it was Noventa's fate to find the sword, so be it. But after the Marshall had recovered, he left Tibet, without any recollection of his feverish words. He did, however, mention that his traveling companion had died and that he had buried him in a cave. There are many mountain caves, and there's nothing we can do for the dead but to pray for their return in a next, better life."
"This is insane." Duo waved with his hand as if batting at a fly. "He could've dropped the flashlight and the glass broke, and when he went to pick it up, he cut his fingers. Are you seriously telling me that Noventa killed Gianni Bartoli?"
"You won't hear such accusation from me," Tsering said as he put the small chest away. "It could be like you said, a simple cut of his fingers, but it could also be like you said, used to kill. We don't know the circumstances, but we do know that many more people have sought for the sword."
"Not much is known about it," Heero said. "Before Noventa came to us, I had never heard of it."
"Many treasures are hidden on this planet, Heero Yuy." Tsering brusquely stood up from his chair. "Some even in plain sight. And yes, I know that today's methods of communication are fast and well-developed, but this is Tibet under occupation, and more so, this is Barkhang. No news will leave this place unless we really want to."
Chapter 8 | Chapter 10 |