Horum's page

The three men walked slowly along the pond at the centre of the oasis, two walking close together, heads bowed in conversation, the other trailing by some 10 feet.
…of course, of course, Sahir, the boy was an orphan, running the streets of Katapesh like a savage, living by his wits and will. But survive he did, stringy of limb, life on the streets toughened had his skin and spirit. When I found him, I praised the Seven Winds…a candidate like Horum only appears once or twice a generation. I know, I know such talk leads to prideful thoughts, but facts are facts are they not? Students such as he are few and far between, are they not? His brutal childhood prepared him well for our own methods. Nay, Nay, Sahir, I do not accuse our order of brutality, only that the means we employ can often seem so to those who endure them, remember your own training! Ha, yes I remember that day well, old friend.
The men walked in silence for a time, their measured steps mirrored by the man, Horum, about whom they talked. It was true, Horum recalled, his childhood on the streets of Katapesh had been hard and brutal; of friendship there was none, love unheard of, only survival. But despite that environment, Horum developed a sense of right and wrong that guided his behavior. Stealing only from those who could afford the loss, occasionally sharing with another street urchin, defending the weak against the strong who would prey on them. Horum still bore the scars from such contests.
Horum listened as the men resume talking, ”I remember it like it was yesterday, making my way through the market on my way to meet with Tannek, when a ruckus in an alley called my attention.
Within a boy of 8 or nine fought a group of three thugs, at least double his age. And he was winning, acting in a purely instinctive manner, the boy use his body and his environment to inflict considerable punishment on boys much bigger than he. His success was short-lived as the greater strength of the others wore down the impoverished boy. I however had seen enough and stepped in to deal with the matter. What? No, No, I left the older boys unconscious, really Sahir, I’m hardly so bloodthirsty! Offering the boy a life beyond the dusty alleyways of Katapesh, he was understandably wary I was merely a flesh-merchant. But I asked him would a slaver have left the other boys incapacitated and then there was the manner in which I did so. The boy could reason at least and agreed to accompany me. What’s that, Sahir? Ah, I apologize for stating the obvious. You are a good friend to allow an old monk to prattle on so.”

Behind the two men, Horum’s discipline prevented him from advancing the half pace needed to hear the conversation more clearly. He was curious, but his master had instructed him quite clearly as to where he was to follow.

Where was I? Ah yes, and so Horum’s training began and continued for the next 10 years. Building upon his excellent physical talents you and I molded young Horum into the exemplary monk who walks so exactly behind us. Pardon me, Sahir? Oh yes the matter with the scullery maid, Halleen. I thought it best to allow the relationship, as Horum had had no family. A mother figure could only further the development we sought in him. It was quite unfortunate that she left so abruptly, but Horum gave no sign that it caused him any distress. “

”Hmmm, perhaps you are right, Sahir. Nonetheless, it was your own devious tests that Horum completed to join our ranks! Take comfort that we both did what was necessary to guide our charge; allowing him to face the cruel world that exists outside these walls. Ha ha, too true, my friend, that reminds me…..”

Horum could no longer hear, the words now snatched away by the rising wind. Lost in his own thoughts now, Horum continued to walk in his master’s wake, watching the wind buffet the palms, sending streams of sand arching over the oasis’ pond, glittering in the moonlight.