The Unforgotten Monks of the Lead Coins (Part 2)

 

Salt and Bo Jing asked some questions in Banua and found an old, grizzled man who claimed that indeed, the monks of the lead coins did still live AND he knew where to find them.

Although they had some questions about their guide’s sanity, Salt and Bo Jing agreed that they should follow their curiosity.  Bo-Jing asked Ryu and three of his most trusted warriors to accompany him. Nekhil volunteered to join the party as Salt’s bodyguard. Their mysterious friend Bangqiu told them he’d follow them from the shadows and lend assistance if they got into danger.

The trip to the monastery was arduous, but uneventful.  They moved beyond the grasslands where the Naran horde grazed their animals into the barren lands and then the mountains beyond.  They caught sight of the monastery perched high on a cliff above and as they reached the steep cascade of broken steps leading up to it, a pair of monks appeared to meet them.  They gave warm greetings to the guide, who introduced Salt and Bo-Jing.  The monks expressed their gratitude at having visitors to interrupt their solitude. One of the monks started to lead the party up the steps while the other lingered to speak to the guide.

On the way up the steps, Bo-Jing quizzed the monk about his beliefs and soon became suspicious. Unlike the monks described by Gaansukh, who pulled profound lessons from prosaic events, this man showed little interest or ability in discussing the tenets of his faith.  Rather than explain the remarkable carvings in the stone steps, the monk stated they were “mysteries” whose meaning could only be explained to those who were “ready.”

The party passed through the gates of the monastery. Their horses were taken to the stables and they were welcomed to the guest house.  Though it was late in the day, their guide would not stay with them, and hadn’t even followed them up the stairs, but instead already started his return to the settled lands.  The monks told the party to make themselves at home in the guest house and to feel free to explore the monastery—except for the temple.  That was closed to the uninitiated.

The Unforgotten Monks of the Lead Coins (Part 1)

In the weeks following the expedition to the barrier peaks lands of the people of the trees, Bo-Jing’s mind turned to another mystery, that of the four coins, especially, the “fourth coin,” the lead medallion, he had found secreted in a cave, accompanied by a cryptic note: where your treasure is, your heart will be also.

He consulted a few shamans, and learned that as recently as 10 years ago, such coins had been relatively commonplace—at least among wealthy merchants—for they were typically made of gold. Another visit to the shrine of Sum Sakhius brought additional guidance. Gaansukh first negotiated a trade—he had in his own possession a gold version of the coin and wanted Bo-Jing’s lead one. And, once the trade was accomplished, he explained why.

As a boy, he had known monks from a mysterious brotherhood, who traded in lead coins. They refused to beg and whenever they found themselves with wealth or currency of any kind, they gave it away, saying “This is not of me or for me.” The lead medallions were “gifts” or “mementos” and they gave these away to anyone who gifted them—a warm bed, a sack of grain, a horse, a friendly greeting—any of these might be received as a gift.. “And I have something to share with you,” the monk would reply, producing a lead medallion marked with birds arranged around the four points of a compass. Most likely, no matter how cheap or valuable the thing they received, the monk would give only one of the cheap lead medallions—or “cross coins” as the people called them,. Gansukh himself once owned seven of the cross coins and, following the lessons of one keen-eyed monks could tell them apart based on irregularities in their casting and the way they’d worn over the years.

Over time, the novelty wore off and traders demanded “real money” whenever the monks passed through, asking whether anyone had the heart to help them. Eventually, the monks were treated like criminals and strongly discouraged from entering Banua.

But then one day, they reappeared, this time bearing cross coins made of gold. Rather than give them away, they used them just like currency, purchasing staple provisions, horses, tools, and building materials. Over times, they hired laborers while also buying more luxurious items and more and more building materials. They also repurchased the lead coins they distributed years before.

Despite speculation, Gaansukh never heard a definitive answer on what the monks were working on.

There was likewise speculation about what the monks were doing today. Not since the time of Gaansukh’s father had they been seen in Banua or anywhere else off the mountain ridge where their monastery was located. There was a half-crazy man who claimed to know how to find them, and who sometimes offered his services to merchants. But this man was very secretive and most assumed that he knew nothing about the monks, and was instead in league with a bandit of robbers.

This mystery was part of why,,Gaansukh confessed, he had once encouraged Bo-Jing to pursue his tax-collection efforts to the mountains monks. “Not to set you before robbers, because I knew the Bolad people were honest, but because I wanted to believe the monks still live.”

Expedition to the People of the Trees

 Over the weeks that followed, Bo-Jing and Narantsetseg received delegations from the Eagle and Worm clans, expressing gratitude, congratulations, and a wish for on-going peace among their peoples, supported by respect for the ancient borders.

Bo-Jing asked about the People of the Trees.  The delegations from the Eagle and Worm clans offered no other explanation except that the People of the Trees rarely communicated with he other clans. Bo-Jing paid a visit to Gaansukh.  Gaansukh agreed, but with an important clarification. Walking with Bo-Jing in a great circle around the walls of Sum Sakhius he shared his own theory. When he searched his own memory, Gaansukh failed to find an incident when he had encountered a representative from the People of the Trees.  He didn’t believe his father had either.  Nor his grandfather.  In the stories about “all the clans” the People of the Trees were never described.  No individuals were ever named.  His father could describe the flavor of goat he ate in the low dark hall of the Khan of the worm clan.  Remembering a visit to the lands of the Eagle Clan, he and his retinue sometimes sang the welcoming song of the young women who had rode out to meet them. Gaansukh stopped and leaned against the stupa. “I cannot believe that anyone has ever entered the lands of the People of the Trees or met those People, if there are any People there.  And yet, even in this holy place, when I say this, I feel . . . it is time to refresh ourselves with some tea.”

Hearing this strange stories, Bo-Jing resolved to visit the lands of the People of the Trees and find out for himself.  He wanted the company of Salt and his best men, and also his bride. Hoping for a friendly welcome, they selected fine clothes and gifts for their hosts.

The first part of the journey was agreeable as they passed through the reunified Naran horde where the people where people were glad to meet their new Khan and Khatun.  While evidence of the beastmen’s depredations remained, these reminders of recent horrors strengthened their resolve to create a better future and to honor their lost loved ones with a spirit of cheer and generosity.

But as the travelers approached the border, they were overcome by feelings of loneliness.  In the evenings, there were no welcoming fires, and the travelers were forced to make their own camp.  Each morning, Bo-Jing, even as he set his horse toward the forest on the still-distant horizon, he looked back wistfully at the sunny grasslands where they would be gratefully received by his own people.  On the day when they rode down a slight slope toward the trees, Ryu asked out loud, “Tell us again, what is our mission here?”

Bo-Jing could not answer.  The horses slowed to a walk and then stopped to graze.  Everyone dismounted to stretch out in the grass. Except Narantsetseg.  After dismounting, she walked toward the trees.  Bo-Jing, Batzorig, and Salt tentatively followed after her; the others hesitated for a moment, but the hurried after them.  They heard the horses starting to trot away.  Zhang and Gan-Wei were ordered back to guard them.  The rest pressed into the forest, all of them except Narantsetseg nearly overcome by an unnatural mix of apathy and panic.

In time they came to a clearing and encountered those who might be the People of the Trees.  They were more like trees than people— their skin was a range of greenish hues, some more yellow, some more brown, and the smaller ones being the color of a spring leaf.  In their vine-like fingers, they wielded crude spears and axes-- their jagged metal blades fixed with wire. With these weapons they had brought down a deer and were now butchering it into quarters.

Bo-Jing shouted a friendly greeting.  The dozen or so treepeople turned their faces toward him.  Their heads were like vegetables, with tiny pits for eyes and mouths that were deeper holes surrounded by root-like tendrils.  The treepeople returned Bo-Jing’s greeting, all speaking at once in voices that were too far from human speech to be duplicated, much less understand. Nevertheless, they made it evident that they were happy to see Bo-Jing and his companions.  Using the butt ends of their spears they pointed out a path out of the clearing and urged the humans to accompany them.  The green treepeople led the way and the others followed behind the party, encouraging them to press on. The deer carcass was forgotten.

It was late afternoon when they came to a rocky hillside where erosion had exposed two doors.  One was at ground level, a gate of shiny metal, firmly closed.  The other, about 30 yards up the side of the hill, was open; a soft light glowed evenly from within.  The party was guided by the treepeople up the hillside to the open door. The space inside oddly-furnished; all surfaces were sheathed in gleaming metal and a material like polished ivory or bone. Beyond the brightly-lit entry way, wide corridors led into darkness.  While the smaller treepeople disappeared down one hallway, the party was urged forwards with some urgency and even aggression.  When Bo-Jing, who was leading the party, hesitated, large treeperson with brownish purple splotches prodded him forcefully with a spear butt, sending him flying into a pit.  The party, perhaps relieved to have their suspicions confirmed, defended themselves with full force. Salt killed the treeman closest to her with a barrage of magic missiles, giving her space to flee from the edge of the pit. Gan Yul and the other warriors drew their swords and hacked down the stalky flesh of the treepeople, sending them into a full retreat.  Salt would not allow them to escape and with a blast of steam reduced them to a green puply mass.

Bo-Jing meanwhile had fallen over fifty feet, and landed in a bright room filled with hulking animal-like creatures made of metal.  Though badly injured in his fall, Bo-Jing raised himself up.  Noticing handles on the side of the pit, he began to climb back up. In the course of his climb, he was amazed by many strange sights including an extensive garden filled with plants he had never seen.  Also on the way back up, he was ambushed by another treeman.  The creature’s spear failed to penetrate his armor and Bo-Jing grabbed hold of the weapon to push the treeman off the ladder and into the pit. By the time Bo-Jing reached the top of the pit, the rest of the party had overcome their attackers.  Ryu and Narantsetseg tended to Bo-Jing’s wounds while Salt and Ryu surveyed their surroundings.  The door to the outside had been closed.  Looking down the corridor in which the treepeople had fled, they could see light in the distance.  Another corridor led into darkness.  The corridors were lined with closed metal doors.

The party elected to go down the dark corridor.  They encountered and fought a smaller group of treepeople.  One of their number carried three vividly colored cards, made of an odd material, durable like bone, but more pliable than wood.  Using these cards, they were able to open one of the closed doors and then close it from the inside.

The room was softly-lit and luxurious furnished with metal tables, brightly-dyed carpets, and leather settees. Exhausted by their experiences, the party collapsed into sleep.  Only Narantsetseg had the prescene of mind to stay awake, asking her brother to watch with her for anything that might try to open the door or make use of any unseen entrances.

Several hours passed without any incident, except for the gradual brightening of the light, which seemed to emanate from the very air. When everyone had rested, the party decided to further explore the strange structure.  They were assaulted by other strange creatures including black lions with spiky tentacles growing out of their shoulders.  And they found the central lair of the treepeople—a series of small rooms filled with rotting animal corpses on which very small treepeople were feeding. They fought and won another large battle with treepeople warriors and hunters and recovered more of the strange cards.  And, by the chance, the party returned to the door by which they had first been herded into the treepeople’s home.  It was open and, outside it was daytime.  Though fascinated by the strange place they had discovered, the party realized that they were likely to discover many more dangerous creatures within and that the treepeople might number easily number in the hundreds.  Though they had overcome the previous vague sense of dread, they understood that unless they took this opportunity to escape, they would likely be killed.  Therefore, they left the city of the People of the Trees and passed through the forests to the comfort of the sunny grasslands of Naran.

The Most Fortunate Khatun

Bo Jing led a triumphant but weary, slow march back to Banua. Alert as always, but relaxed, he let his horse choose its pace, with the others following. The air was fresh with the hint of coming spring.

Towards evening, the party noticed the glow of campfires among a large cluster of yurts. Approaching, they heard singing and laughter and smiled at each other, wondering if the people of the Bolad horde knew what good reason they had to celebrate. Zhang was wary but Batzorig urged his companions onwards. “I know the song they are singing from my earliest days. These are not howling beastmen, but good people, enjoying their birthright. And with our news, we will be most welcome surprise guests!”

But it was the guests who were most surprised. The feast was sumptuous, the music unending, the hosts most richly arrayed and the guests fully expected. The high host was a man in bright green clothes. He accompanied the musicians on a fiddle, danced with all the women, and joked with all the men. He was the King of the East. This feast was to celebrate his daughter Narantsetseg and perhaps to honor Bo-Jing as his son-in-law?

Bo-Jing married Narantsetseg and the feast continued over several nights and days. Each night, the King of the East asked one of Bo-Jing’s companions to re-tell the story of how they had come to the lands of the Cradle of Humanity (“that is the old name of what you call the Valley of Fires, four, five, six, how many fires?”) and their campaign against the Beastmen and defeat of their evil leader. And one evening, when he was talking to Bo-Jing next to a low fire, he asked, “I think you have something that belongs to me?”

And so Bo-Jing gave up another of the four coins, this time to one whose face matched that of the coin and the King responded with deep gratitude. “You have shown me that you are brave, honorable, and generous. All who meet you will see this in your face.”

The King restored Narantsetseg’s hearing and gave his blessing to Batzorig, thanking him for his kindness as her elder brother, and forgiving him for any unfortunate incidents along the way. He gave gifts of gold, fine new clothes and a suit of armor for Bo-Jing’s flying steed.

And so the heroes returned to Banua, coming from a feast instead of a battle. The attacks on the city had ended, and scouting parties had found no signs of bestmen for several days. And so the people of Banua, accepted Bo-Jing’s good news with satisfaction and also prepared to celebrate. There were several days of joyful gatherings, but the songs were bittersweet for the losses had been great.

Gaansukh opened the palace and set Bo-Jing upon his council chair. He was ready to retire. He had done his best to protect his people, but his failures were many and the rain of forgiveness does not fall inside a palace. He would go with a few of his closest advisors to the shrine at Sum Sakhius.

The people would select their Khan, but Bo-Jing had loved them as a tax collector, he had re-united the Naran horde, he had defeated their enemy. “Do you know I was once suspicious of you? But you are a man of bravery, honor, and generosity. And now I see it on your very face!”

And so the people of Bolad and Nergui, reunited as the Naran horde, called on Bo-Jing to be their Khan. The Emperor summoned Bo-Jing to Khanbaliq to recognize his khanship. He asked Bo-Jing to pledge his loyalty and named him protector of the Barrier Peaks. As long as Bo-Jing and the Naran would protect the Empire’s border, they would pay no Imperial taxes.

The Most Unfortunate Khatun: Part 3

Bo-Jing was an expert tracker and the beastmen who had captured Narantsetseg made no effort to cover their tracks. For three days, the heroes and their warbands pursued the beastmen, arriving at a dense and swampy thicket at the northern limit of the Naran domain. Leaving the warbands to guard their retreat, the crafty leaders, Tetsukichi and Bo-Jing, together with the powerful sorcerers Bangqiu, Hyamsam, and Salt, and a small number of other trusted companions, made their way into the thicket. This was a fulsome place; the thorny branches of the hedges torn at their arms and ankles, the mud stank of death, and the air rose in a thick, reddish mist.

They fought several small groups of beastmen before reaching the center of the thicket, and the site of a horrifying ritual. Surrounded by over a hundred beastmen and other disgusting monsters, there Narantsetseg, chained to a black altar, with a man in black robes looming over her, holding a knife aloft. The sky swirled in a blood-red vortex. The man chanted, together with three witches, and the horde of beastmen echoed their chanting. As they chanted, the horrible blue-black statue of a horned man seemed to glow from within.

The heroes stayed a safe distance away and made a plan. The sorcerers made Tetsukichi and Bo-Jing invisible. The Mustapha created the illusion of an attacking force from the other side of the thicket. The beastmen attacked the illusionary invaders, while the black-robed man and witches continued their ritual. Bo-Jing’s henchmen pelted the beastmen with arrows as they closed with the illusionary force. Bo-Jing surprised the man I the black robes, dealing him several grievous blows; Tetsukichi guarded Bo-jing’s flank, holding the three witches at bay. The black-robed man tried to continue the ritual while dodging Bo-Jing’s flashing swords. The witches were of little help as they were being blasted by magic missiles from Salt, Hyamsam and Bangqiu. When two of the witches fell, Tetsukichi turned to assist Bo-Jing in his fight against the black-robed man. The wretched servant of evil fell to a flurry of sword strokes.

Within moments a green-golden wind swept over the thicket, dispersing the red clouds and vaporizing the beastmen in a flash of blinding fire. By the time Bo-Jing regained his senses, he found Narantsetseg free of her chains and safe in his arms.