Forged in Honor (1995) (6 page)

Joshua fired, and the second gyi toppled over. Running forward, Joshua worked the bolt while keeping his eyes on the escaping leader. It was bounding down the ridge, having to zig and zag around the monstrous teaks. Joshua stopped, raised the weapon, and fired again.

He stood with the rifle held to his shoulder, not moving a muscle. He was waiting for everything to come back into focus. He had not heard his two shots nor had he seen the trees, mist, or vegetation. All he had seen were the two gyi; everything else had blurred. He had seen the first one quiver just before it bolted. He had seen indecision in the second animal's eyes just before the bullet struck. The escaping gyi's eyes had been at first full of fear, but the look had changed to hope when it thought it would live. Its huge brown eyes had dulled in that instant the bullet tore into its flesh.

"Joshua? Joshua, are you all right?" asked Stephen, worried by the fact that his friend had not moved.

As if in slow motion, Joshua lowered his rifle and turned to face his friend. "I ... I'm fine."

"Did you kill the big one?"

Joshua nodded as his eyes came back into focus. He strode to his pony and placed the rifle back into the saddle boot.

"By the gods, you shot both of them! It is true you Americans are all cowboys."

Shrugging his shoulders, Joshua grasped the reins of his horse. "Beginner's luck, I guess. Come on, let's get 'em and find some more. The next are yours."

The sun was setting as Joshua and Stephen stood by the water pump behind the dormitory cleaning themselves.

Joshua put on his shirt and felt for his sheath knife. "Darn, I left my knife in Teacher's hut. I'm gonna run back and get it."

"I will go with you," Stephen said, buttoning his shirt.

"Naw, you'll miss the dorm supper. I'll see you in your room after I've had dinner at the house."

Stephen dipped his chin in reluctant agreement, and Joshua broke into a slow jog. It was dark by the time he slowed to a walk just short of the hut. When he heard voices and laughter, he froze. Who could it be? he wondered. Bandits, Wa. or-Something hard poked him in the back and a harsh Shan voice said, "Move and you die. Raise your hands."

Gulping, Joshua raised his arms as the voice had commanded. "Who are you?" the voice continued.

"Joshua, student of the Teacher."

The pressure against his back was removed and a man stepped around in front of Joshua and took his arm. "Come, little Sao."

As soon as Bak's door opened, Joshua stepped in and his mouth fell open. Xu Kang turned from the small cooking fire with a smile. "Have you come to challenge me again, little Sao?"

Bak chuckled and set down the cup of zu he was drinking.

"I fear your secret is no longer one, Chindit."

Xu Kang motioned Joshua to a bench and said, "Your teacher is correct, but the question is, what should I do about it?"

Joshua stammered, "I won't tell anybody."

"Of course not," said Xu Kang as he sat down beside the boy. "You know the power of the Chindit. I suppose I should explain. I came to watch the hunt. To shoot your first gyi is a first step toward manhood, and I was very impressed with your shot today. The gyi was at least fifty yards away."

"One hundred," Joshua corrected, knowing he was in no danger.

Xu Kang laughed and tossed his arm over the boy's shoulder. "Yes, one hundred, and next year at the hunter's campfire it will be two hundred. You are truly becoming a Shan."

The Sawbaw's smile slowly dissolved as he looked into the boy's eyes. "How is my son, little Sao? Is he doing well in school?"

"He is the smartest in our class in arithmetic and writing," said Joshua. "My mother says he is her best student."

Xu Kang's face beamed. "Do you hear this, Bak? My son is first in his class!"

The old man sipped his zu and nodded. "He is far more intelligent than his father."

Xu Kang laughed and patted Joshua's back. "You must return home, little Sao, before your family worries. This is our secret. Tell no one you saw me, not even Stephen. He would not understand."

Joshua stood to face the Sawbaw and waited for the shoulder clap. Xu Kang nodded to Bak. "You have taught him well. He knows our customs and shows respect." He placed his hand on Joshua's shoulder. "I am proud of you, little Sao.

You and my son ride and shoot like Horsemen. You both lifted my heart. I thank you for being my son's friend. He is honored."

Joshua clapped his small hand on the Xu Kang's shoulder.

"I am the one honored, Chindit. Stephen is my best friend."

Bak guided Joshua to the door and walked out into the darkness with him. "Be careful on the walk home, and remember to say nothing of what you saw."

Joshua stopped and looked up at the old man. "The Chindit misses his son, doesn't he?"

Bak patted the boy's back. "Yes, very much. He will be back often, for he cannot stay away, but Stephen must never know the Sawbaw watches him."

Joshua turned away in silence and began the long walk home. He knew that his father was watching him, too ... from afar.

Chapter 5.

1964 Shaduzup, Burma.

"Don't be distracted!" Bak bellowed. "Stephen, you are first. Watch your front and remember what I taught you."

Both boys turned back to face the meadow. Stephen took a step forward and raised an old British pistol. From the opposite side of the meadow's tree line, six militiamen stepped out and began running toward the boys. Stephen aimed and fired the pistol, which held only blank ammunition.

Bak stood directly behind Stephen, watching his every move and sight alignment. "Hit!" he barked after Stephen fired at his first target. Stephen aimed at another oncoming attacker and pulled the trigger. The militia were closing in fast, shooting rifles loaded with blanks as they ran.

Bak kept his eyes on Stephen. "Hit ... miss ... hit ... miss ... miss."

The militiamen ran past the boys and Stephen turned to his teacher, who was shaking his head. "You are dead. Yes, you fought bravely, but not wisely. Remember what I taught you. You must pick your targets based on their threat to you, and once you select a target you can see or hear nothing else."

Stephen dejectedly handed the pistol to Bak. "But Teacher, they came so fast. There isn't time to determine which targets are most dangerous, let alone shoot them all."

Bak reloaded the old revolver with more blanks. "You blinked when they shot at you. Blinking demonstrates a lack of concentration. It is a difficult test, my students. I have never had a student shoot all the targets the first time. You will get better with practice and concentration." Bak handed the weapon to Joshua. "Now it is time for your first attempt.

Remember, the weapon is an extension of your mind. Point, aim, and shoot. When under attack the victor is the man who keeps his senses and is not distracted. Fear is your enemy, more so than the attacker. Fear causes blinking, and fear causes you to jerk the trigger instead of squeezing. Shooting a man is difficult to teach, but a man who can accept death will always be the victor in a fight over a man who fears for his life. When facing an enemy with weapons it is a truth that someone will die. Accepting death is like a shield because you no longer have the fear of dying. There is an inner peace with this acceptance, a peace that steadies the hand and prepares the mind and body to kill."

Joshua took the weapon and faced the meadow. Letting his arms hang at his sides, he took a breath and let it out slowly.

Six more militiamen burst out of the trees. Standing perfectly still for a full two seconds, he finally raised the pistol.

"Hit," said Bak, watching Joshua's movements and his sighting of the weapon. "Hit ... hit ... hit ... hit ... hit! By the gods!"

Joshua stood with the empty pistol in his hand, still pulling the trigger. Only when Stephen reached out and touched his shoulders did Joshua lower the pistol and face the Teacher with a distant gaze.

Bak stared into his student's eyes for a long moment before stepping up and taking the weapon from his hand.

"What did you feel?"

Joshua spoke as if in a trance. "At peace."

"Did you hear the rifles shooting at you?"

"I don't think so, Teacher. I don't remember hearing anything."

Bak nodded. "The gods have blessed you. I have seen it before but never in one so young."

Stephen slapped Joshua's back excitedly. "You got them all! And you did it so fast!"

Joshua's eyes came into focus and he looked down at his hands. "It-it felt so strange."

Bak handed the pistol to Stephen. "Go to the range and practice. I want you to hit the target at twenty paces with all six shots. Take a box of ammunition and use it all."

"What about Joshua?"

"Can you two not be separated even for an hour? Go on, I will be working here with him. Now go."

Bak waited until Stephen had walked over the ridge before facing Joshua with an intense stare. "How long have you known you were blessed with this gift?"

Joshua lowered his head and looked at his feet. "Four years, Teacher. I felt it when I shot my first gyi-I had complete focus."

Bak took Joshua's arm and led him to the shade of a gnarled banyan tree. "The blessing the gods have given you makes you different. Those I have seen with the gift fear themselves, for they know the gift is there, wanting to be released. Do not fear what the gods have given to you, my student. Understand it is a gift given to few and that you were chosen. Accept this gift, use it when necessary, but never look for a reason to use it."

Bak smiled and patted the boy's shoulder. "I will help you to understand the gift. It is the first time I have had this opportunity in all my years of teaching Horsemen. I am honored."

Joshua bowed his head. "No, Teacher, I am honored."

The mission church bell clanged three times to signal the approach of a supply convoy. As always, the arrival of the trucks from Namti was cause for all work to cease and for everyone in the village to come to the mission compound.

Henry and Sarah were just as excited as the villagers.

The first large, Japanese-made truck topped the rise followed by two more and a surprise: a new white Land Rover.

Henry stepped off the porch as the Land Rover came to a stop in front of the house. A large white man wearing khaki clothes stepped out of the vehicle and removed his slouch hat. Smiling, the stranger offered his hand to Henry.

"You must be Pastor Brown. I've heard a lot about you.

It's a real pleasure."

Henry grinned and shook the stranger's hand. "An American! We don't see many up here. Please come and have tea with us and tell us what has brought you to Shaduzup."

The tall stranger offered his hand to Sarah as he stepped up onto the porch. "And you must be Mrs. Brown. I'm John Swift from the American Embassy in Rangoon. It sure is a pleasure to meet you."

"Please sit down, Mr. Swift," said Sarah, shaking his hand and motioning to a chair.

Swift took a seat and looked out at the compound, his smile replaced by a frown. "Pastor, I'm afraid I've come here with some bad news."

Sarah and Henry held their breath as the tall American sipped his tea before speaking. "Pastor, the Burmese government leaders have ordered all foreigners out of the country.

But for the time being, the order does not include missionaries. A new general has taken over the military leadership of the government, and he blames foreigners and minorities for the country's horrible economic state. He is making foreigners and the various mountain tribes the scapegoats-and the people are believing him. I'm afraid it will be just a matter of time before the missions will also be closed."

"What has happened to turn the government against foreigners and minorities?" Sarah asked. "A truce was signed between the rebels and the army four years ago."

Swift forced a small smile. "Mrs. Brown, you live in another world here in the mountains. In the lowlands and especially in Rangoon, the Burmese live in horrible poverty. Their economic system is in shambles. The government is corrupt.

Vietnam and Laos are close to all-out war because of the communists. The junta doesn't want the same thing to happen to them, so it is clamping down, and it has convinced the people that their enemy is us, the foreigners."

Swift shifted his eyes to Henry. "I don't think the truce will stay in effect. The new general is talking of waging a campaign to once and for all rid the country of rebels and communists. The Shan are included."

Henry lowered his head. "So much good has come in the past four years . . . and now this. Since the truce, our Sawbaw has been able to concentrate on the bandits and the Wa. He has eliminated them as a threat to the Ri. It will be all for nothing if the army comes to the Shan state. It will mean war again."

Swift stood. "I'm sorry to have brought the bad news.

Now, I must ask a favor of you. I need to get in contact with a warlord named Xu Kang. I understand his camp is in this area."

Henry studied the taller man's face a moment. "Why would you need to contact him?"

Swift furrowed his brow as if not used to being questioned. "Pastor, Xu Kang is one of the best-known and most respected rebel leaders of the minorities. We are trying to mediate a meeting of the rebel leaders and the junta. None of us want another war. It is not in Burma's best interests, nor our country's."