Anshi :Book Two, Part One- Brotherhood and Bloodlines

Regaining Some Ground

Anshi rose very early the next morning. He was alone, which seemed a little odd to him since the yurt had been full of people after Anshi had read Han's final letter. It still lay on his writing desk next to Han's portrait where he had placed them. 

He had a slight headache, and he could not shake a general wooziness; he wondered briefly if he was becoming ill. It was strange that not even his Guardians, especially Lan Sya Mu and Lan Ge Ban were not present. The two had been like mother hens last night. They, along with Dawa Tuya and Uncle Maral had refused to leave for the longest time, their attention directed and keeping him calm. Dawa Tuya prepared a light meal for all and served Anshi his favorite rice and partridge congee. He finished the bowl and even though he was drowsy and suddenly peaceful, she insisted on another bowl. Two bites into it, he could not keep his eyes open. They led him to his bed, tucked him in, and he had fallen sleep almost immediately.

Anshi lit a lamp and in the soft glow, he changed into an everyday tunic, clean and plain. He felt the need to work, long and hard today; hard work as a slave had taught him the lesson that the mind had room for little else when the muscles felt the deep burn of labor and the purification of salty perspiration. He yearned for the salvation of honest physical activity.

The portrait of Han, still on the writing desk where he had left it, caught his eye. The last letter he had written lay beside it. He looked at that beautiful face, with the eyes that held the look of eternal sadness, then he gently rolled it up and slipped in the scroll, tucking the letter inside. He placed it deeply in his trunk, shut the lid, and locked it away. His hand lay on the lid, softly for a moment in a final goodbye, then he walked away and did not look back. Han was right. The break was irrevocable and weeping, wishing, were no longer options for him.

He sipped a cup of tea and wished that Dawa Tuya had left the extra congee behind; it would have tasted good this morning. Its warmth would have been perfect...

Dawa Tuya! He smacked his forehead in frustration.

Of course! How stupid could he be? The insistence of another bowl. The missing pot of leftover congee. The absence of Guardians. Aish! His devious Auntie, Uncle and Guardians had drugged the hell out of him last night! His first instinct was to order them to the yurt, but he stopped halfway to the entryway. He smiled ruefully and returned and sat before the stove and calmly finished his tea.

He did not blame them a bit. His actions in the last few weeks had literally backed them against a wall. Should they take the chance and leave him to his own devices again, or knock him out so that he could not go off have cocked once more and take his ire out on gods only knew who else? They had the cheek, and the good sense, to at least find a way to get him a good night's sleep.

He strapped on his sword and left. A lone sentry started as he saw him and glanced nervously at Lan Sya Mu's yurt.

"She is your immediate superior; I, however, I am your tribal leader. Whom do you wish to royally piss off the least?"

"You, Sir. But she will have my head."

"Not while I have your back. How about a compromise?"

"Sir?"

"You follow me tonight. Watch out and be my protection, and I will protect you from her wrath."