lengthening, there’s not much time left in the saddle and I don’t mind. The boat frame has left its malign mark on my ribs, reminding me of the rough passage with every shallow breath I take. A fresh cup of tea and a warming stove—that’s what I’m looking most forward to now.
Our lodgings have my prayers answered. The tea’s like it should be, rich and creamy. By the look of my slurping and chewing companion, the copious food’s undoubtedly of the same quality, but I’ve left my appetite on the billowing waves of the afternoon. I have no desire to dig in. With my taste for tea satisfied, my blanket’s the only comforting thought left. Fortunately, Dendup and Karma decide on an early night. Om Tara.
The dreamless sleep has cleared all remainders of yesterday’s venture. After a hearty breakfast, we’re on our way again, bright and early. A sprinkle of rain—an auspicious sign—guides us out of the village, onto the open road.
“Any surprises today?” I relax back in the saddle. Dendup’s chewing on an apricot from a rather big bag, a generous gift from our most friendly hostess at the caravanserai.
“Nah.” He spits the pit to the side. “Plain riding from here on.” He nods ahead. “For a few days, anyway.”
My eyes scout the horizon. The snow-crowned peaks of the magnificent Cho La range have been in sight ever since we left Kandze. At this pace, however, the peaks are not getting any nearer.
As it turns out, this day does bring a surprise, albeit a pleasant one. With the sun at its peak, the road opens up to wide plains, carpeted by swaying long grass and abundant wildflowers. We’ve hit the fertile higher grasslands, the summer haven of the local nomads and their yaks.
I shift back in the saddle. My horse leaps at the sight of this luscious expanse, his frolicking hoofs pound the warm grass. A pair of sheltering pheasants rush out of the grass at the approach of our caravans, their shrill call a futile protest to our sudden appearance. While the mules plough through with the long grass swishing under their bellies, the breeze carries the sweet smell of crushed herbs all around. What a refreshing relief from the dust cloud I’ve gotten used to riding in.
“Time for a break.” Karma signals ahead.
The front of the caravan has already halted near the small creek. With sweat sticking my shirt to my back, I slide off my horse and let him dash into the stream. A spray of crystal-clear water scatters under his hoofs.
The little ones have already found their refreshing treat, leaping across the stream with their hands and mouths full of juicy berries. Smudges of dark maroon and the brightest of purple streak their hands and faces. I scoop the water in my burning palms and run it over my heated face, down my neck. There’re no trees at this height—the only shadows to be found are the scattered clouds drifting overhead.
“Come, sit.” Dendup unpacked our lunch, a nice spread of sliced meat, baked bread, creamy yogurt, and some ripe fruits. I raise my eyebrows. Where did he get all this fresh food? We left so early this morning.
“You must have treated her well then,” Karma says to Dendup. He slices a piece of the bread and hands it to me. I take a moment to catch on, but then my jaw drops. Men! I gulp down the cup of water in front of me and cringe. These two have gotten comfortable with me over the last few days, but I’m still not at ease in the company of men and their remarks—even if it’s my family.
“Did you know these plains are the home of Gesar?” Karma pops a piece of bread in his mouth and leans back.
“Gesar?” I say. “King Gesar of Ling?” My mind perks up at the thought of this epic hero crossing these planes.
“Yep, Gesar the indomitable.” Dendup’s eyes gleam with admiration. “He lived right here on these plains, long time ago.”
Who doesn’t know of the great King Gesar? With his unequalled perseverance and extraordinary strength, this warrior king eliminated all evil and brought happiness to his people. My grandmother told us all about him in class. Gesar was not only a mundane warrior but also a spiritual one, as she used to emphasize. He overcame many difficulties at an early age.
Born as the son of the supreme god Indira, he was banished with his mother from this tribe by his uncle Trotung, a vain and pretentious man who wanted to rule himself. But Gesar didn’t give up and became the leader of the tribe in the end, winning the victory in a horse race.
“King Gesar was intelligent, gentle, and courageous, a real spiritual warrior,” she told us. “Of course, he was frightened, but knowing the inevitability of suffering, he overcame his fear and faced the many evil demons with success.”
“Wow.” Shafts of golden sun light up the vast grasslands around me, making this place seem even more magical.
Dendup wipes the yogurt dribbling down his chin. “Gesar’s story must speak to you then.”
“Yes, but doesn’t everybody like the story?” I shrug at my companions.
“Sure.” Dendup nods. “But not everybody has an evil uncle like Gesar had. I’m talking about an uncle who got him and his mother abandoned when he was very young. An uncle who tried all kinds of means to kill him.”
An instant flush of heat runs up my cheeks. I lower my head with Dendup’s and Karma’s eyes burning on me. An evil uncle. My pulse races. Yes, I do have an evil uncle and they are on the hunt to kill him. Right now. My ribs tighten. The pit in my stomach swells.
“And not everybody claims the victory with a horse.” Dendup’s voice rings with cheer now. I glance up. “We’re proud of you, sister. Let that be said!” He raises his cup and his face beams with pride.
A slight sigh of relief fills me. Dendup’s genuine delight and the ease with which he shows it—it touches me. Still, I can’t help but wonder: how does such a kind man plan such a horrific deed with seemingly the same ease?
“Thank you, brother.” I clear my throat. “But my minor struggles and wins pale in the face of Gesar’s magnificent trials and triumphs.” My fingers fumble with the prayer beads around my neck. The absurd comparison makes me want to run and hide, but there’s nowhere to go on these plains.
“Ah, still.” Dendup glugs the last of the yogurt out of his bowl. “If his uncle had not been so malicious and scheming, Gesar could never have risen so high.” He lets out a big burp and turns to Karma. “Same principle applies to everyone. No matter our trials and triumphs—it’s our struggles that strengthen us, right?”
Karma’s eyes narrow as Dendup slaps his knee.
“I guess you’re right.” Karma puts down his cup. “It is the struggle that strengthens us, no matter the motive or the magnitude of it.” His voice drifts into the distance as a silent shadow moves across his face. “I’ll better check our horses.” He jumps up. “Can’t have a euphoric horse on the road.” And off he goes, making sure our horses don’t graze on one of the many mountain herbs known for their sedative effects.
Packing the leftovers in his bag, Dendup shrugs. “It hasn’t always been easy for Karma either,” he says. “Still isn’t.” He pauses for a moment and rubs his chin as I frown.
“Sorry to hear that,” I say. And I am, while also realizing I know nothing about Karma and his struggles.
“Blood relative or not, I’ve always considered him my true kinsman.” Dendup glances over at the river. “But that’s not the case with all in our family.” His hands press tight on the bag, his fingers tie the string.
“Karma’s got to prove his loyalty to them, time and time again.” With a sigh, he slings the bag over his shoulder. “He’s a good man, a strong man. They should be grateful to have such a fine man in our tribe.”
My head light, I jump up. Karma’s loyalty lies with his family duties—no matter what. A wave of nausea hits my stomach as I pretend to brush the crumbs off my dress. Seems like the family uses Karma to do the dirty work. Dendup just said so. I gag in silence as the bile rises in my throat. My empty thoughts leave me groundless as I try to grasp the meaning of it all. Karma’s no fool. He must see this! Or is he so blinded by his infinite gratitude to them for saving his life so long ago? We all want to belong, but at what price? The blue above me blurs. My own family. Why?
“You good?” Dendup’s voice calls from the distance.
I stumble forward. “I’m fine.” My hands steady on my knees. “The heat’s getting to me.” I throw a slight smile. “Back in a moment.” I flee to the river.
The crystal-clear stream cools my face and my temper. As the water runs over my bruised palms, my fingers trace the dark brown scabs on the places where the lesions festered so fiery. How fast the body heals itself, how miraculous we recover from what was so painful only yesterday.
“I don’t think you’re scarred for life.” Karma’s calm voice jolts me out of my musings. “Though it might be tender for a while.” He takes my icy hands in his and envelops them ever so gently.
“It will,” I say. “But no permanent markings of arduous journeys on the road on me yet.” My heart expands at his intense gaze. “Unlike you.” I lower my eyes at the thin scar on his left hand. A fine bronzed line runs from his thumb to his wrist.
“Oh, is that what these are?” His smile broadens, his eyes still on me. “In that case, I’ve got many of them.” His voice carries a mischievous hint, bringing that familiar flutter back to my stomach.
“Really?” I raise my chin in a futile attempt to defy the blush conquering my cheeks. He nods and draws me closer, his eyes a glistering green on me now.
“Oh, yes.” He tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “And it’s my pleasure to show you.” His lips—so near—brush against my burning cheek. “Whenever you’re ready.”
I gasp and hold my breath. The blood rushes to my head, bringing all my thoughts to an abrupt standstill. Suspended in time, my body’s overwhelmed with the urge to draw close, to erase the distance between us.
A cry sounds from afar. “Let’s go!”
I jolt back my head as Dendup’s cheery voice pierces my eardrums.
“Best to keep that for later!” An amusing laughter graces Dendup’s face as he hands me the lead of my stallion.
Please don’t say that! I wince and drop my chin to my chest.
My face is still burning as Karma gives me a leg up. His hand lingers on my leg much longer than needed. A silly grin comes to my face, but my heart sinks as I think of Karma’s fate and the family’s unfortunate demands. A quiet roar rises inside of me.
I set my eyes on the shining peaks of the Cho La range ahead and spur on my horse. Lhasa was the best idea ever—no doubt about it.