Water Sleeps

25

Master Santaraksita paused to tell me, “It was good of you to care for Baladitya yesterday, Dorabee. I had forgotten him in my eagerness to assemble the bhadrhalok. But you should be careful or his grandson will begin expecting you to walk the old man home for him. He tried it with me.”

I did not look into his eyes, though I did want to see what was there. There was a tightness in his voice that told me he had something on his mind. But I had taken too many liberties with Dorabee already. He would not stare into the eyes of the priestly caste. “I but did the right thing, Master. Are we not taught to respect and aid our elders? If we do not when we are young, who will respect and aid us when we ourselves become frail?”

“Indeed. Nevertheless, you continue to amaze and intrigue me, Dorabee.”

Uncomfortable, I tried to change the subject by inquiring, “Was the meeting of the bhadrhalok productive, Master?”

Santaraksita frowned, then smiled. “You’re very subtle, Dorabee. No. Of course not. We’re the bhadrhalok. We talk. We don’t act.” For a moment he mocked his own kind. “We’ll still be debating what form our resistance should take when the Protector perishes of old age.”

“Is it true what they say, Master? That she’s four hundred years old, yet fresh as a bride?” I did not need to know, I just needed conversation to nurture Santaraksita’s surprising interest in me.

“That seems to be the common belief, handed down from the northern mercenaries and those travelers the Radisha adopted.”

“She must be a great sorceress indeed, then.”

“Do I detect a note of jealousy?”

“Would we all not like to live forever?”

He looked at me oddly. “But we shall, Dorabee. This life is only a stage.”

Wrong thing to say, Dorabee Dey. “I meant in this world. I find myself largely content to remain Dorabee Dey Baner-jae.”

Santaraksita frowned slightly but let it go. “How are your studies coming?”

“Wonderfully, Master. I’m especially fond of the historical texts. I’m discovering so many interesting facts.”

“Excellent. Excellent. If there’s anything I can do to help...”

I asked, “Is there a written Nyueng Bao language? Or was there ever?”

That took him from the blind side. “Nyueng Bao? I don’t know. Why in the world would you-”

“Something I’ve seen a few times near where I live. Nobody knows what it means. The Nyueng Bao down there won’t talk. But I never heard of them being literate.”

He rested a hand on my shoulder for a moment. “I’ll find out for you.” His fingers seemed to be trembling. He murmured something unintelligible and hurried away.