Echoes of Home

7. Chapter 7

A crisp breeze sweeps around the courtyard. Winter will come any day.

“We’ll walk,” Father says. So we walk—out of the gate, along the lane where the tall trees sway their barren branches and the hardy grass retreats. From the corner of my eye, I watch Father stride on and my heart expands at his sight. His shoulders squared, his chin held high—he’s looking better than ever. Now that Uncle and his sons have left the stables, Father’s the master, a force to be reckoned with once again.

“I never got the chance to tell you how proud I am.” Father’s arm pulls me in and I flinch at my own secretive scheming. Here I am, with Father expressing his truth to me, when all I think about is masking the terrible facts.

“Making that arduous journey to do all that merit.” He looks at me, his eyes radiant and clear. “And protecting my only brother from a certain death; you amaze me again and again, my child.”

He knows! Gravel crunches under my heels. Father knows I had a hand in Uncle’s rescue. How? My mind twists and turns. I’m not good at hiding and he knows me well, even though we spent almost my entire childhood apart. Maybe he’s just guessing. My shoulders sag. I glance aside.

“I am right, am I not?” The sharp tone he carried in our earlier conversation has faded and a warm smile breaks on his lips.

“Want to tell me what happened before we get to the ngakpa?” His hand squeezes my shoulder. “It won’t change the facts or the outcome.” His gentle gaze catches mine. “Nor will it ever change my love for you.”

Shame blurs my vision. No, it won’t change the outcome, not for Uncle, and not for me. Father’s love knows no boundaries, nor does it set any conditions, and my heart understands that by now. Still, it might change the outcome for Karma if Father knows the details. My love. Do I really need to tell it all? I take in a sharp breath.

“Karma and Dendup, they took real good care of me along the way.” My voice wavers. Where to begin? “When we came to Lhasa, they got me a safe place to stay at a nuns’ monastery.”

Father’s hand still rests on my shoulder. He will not let this go. I better not mention that Karma tried everything in his power to keep me at the monastery, including bribing the guard. He worried for my safety, I understand, but Father might take it all wrong.

“And there was a woman from the other side of the mountains in our caravan,” I say. “We became good friends, and she helped me.” I won’t tell him of Lanying’s flamboyant ways, but I’ll have to mention her part in it all.

“Helped you with what?” Father’s hand slides off my shoulder. We’ve come to the higher grassland surrounding the village.

“She found out where Uncle and Khandro were staying.” I heave. The truth weights heavy when climbing a hill. “We went to see them with two of her guards, hoping they would flee if they knew Dendup and Karma had come.” Well, that was what I had in mind, but Lanying thought they needed a bit more convincing. That’s why she brought the guards, which turned out to be a good thing.

“When we arrived, Karma and Sonam were already there.” My thoughts scramble over to that frightful night when Father’s best friend Sonam turned up too.

“Of course they were, they had to act fast.” Father tips back his head. “And Dendup stayed at the inn, keeping the company of his trusted chang, I guess.”

I nod and halt as we reach the top. “So then we made this plan that I would go in and talk to Karma and Sonam, distracting them so Lanying and her men could get Uncle out.” I turn to face Father. He shakes his head.

“Talk.” He anchors his hands at his hips. “To Karma and Sonam?”

I shrug. “It was the only thing I could think of.” I stare into the distance. Talk. How silly I must sound right now.

“But things got a little confused as I went in.” My fingertips swipe the last of the long grass as we make our way to the village ahead. Confused. That’s quite an understatement.

“Khandro tried to flee with the spell.” A flash of sharp silver slices in front of me. I blink. Karma’s blade. “But I threw it into the fire,” I add in one breath—there’s no way I’m ever going to tell how I hurled myself in front of that knife.

“The spell, it burst into flames.” My voice lowers. “It spread so fast.” I shudder as Uncle’s twisted, blackened face flashes through in my mind.

“Fortunately, Lanying’s men got us out before everything came crashing down.” My heels dig into the soft earth. The sweet stench of Uncle’s scorched flesh fills my nose again. Bile rises against my throat. I swallow hard. What a night.

“And these men brought you to safety.” Father’s voice sounds far away.

“Yes, me and Uncle.” I clear my throat. “To Palmo’s monastery.” Cold sweat trickles down my neck. Here it comes.

“And where was Karma?” His quiet question says it all. Father’s already made up his mind about Karma, and it’s not good.

“I have no idea.” My hesitation is too loud. “I passed out after Lanying’s guard carried me out of the building.” That’s the truth. Karma never told me, and I never asked.

“I see.” It’s all Father says, but his disappointment pulses in the fragile space between us, crushing my hope—Karma wasn’t there for me and Father won’t be as forgiving as I have been. My heart sinks in my boots.

“So you don’t know what happened to Khandro either?” Father chooses his words with care as we approach at the ngakpa’s, the first house on the left in the village.

“My sister told me,” I whisper. The ngakpa’s already at the gate, his lanky figure standing tall.

“Tell him, for he can take it,” Father says. “Nothing’s worse than dwelling in the dark.” His hand rests on my shoulder as a heartening reassurance. He too lost his loved one through tragedy when I was only a little girl.

For too long Father suffered, thinking it was his horse that killed Mother. It drove him to a certain madness. He even abandoned me, his only child, and left me at my grandmother’s monastery, not knowing how to carry his enormous burden. For so long we were apart. This spring we got to know the terrible truth of Mother’s passing, and it brought us back to where we belong—together at our home.

So yes, I get what Father’s saying—the ngakpa deserves to know what happened; he deserves to know it all.

And I’m the only one who can tell him—the truth about his wife’s gruesome fate.