Frost crunches beneath our horses’ hooves, white clouds steam from their breath. The clear indigo night sky fades into a light blue dawn. Patches of bronze and orange haze through the courtyard—it’s the promise of a glorious day.
“Too early,” Father had said, when the throw of the ngakpa’s dice had sealed our day of departure. “Better wait a few more days.”
Still, we’re going, for the word is, the mountains will let us pass.
A baby’s cry sounds from the outbuildings. Sangmo’s coming to see us off.
“Please, stay with Karma,” she said. We talked until late last night, the two of us. “Whatever happens, don’t leave his side.” Her eyes bore an unusual anxiety, nothing like the usual carefree Sangmo at all. “You’re all he’s got out there.” Her hands had cradled her little one tight.
I f
