The Sword of the Lady
The Sword of the Lady
“The High Seeker smiled. The snow here was falling straight and thick, cutting visibility to a gray blur in the dim sunlight of a winter′s afternoon. It gave the air an odd muffled quality, as if everything had been wrapped with thick soft cloths.
″Yes,″ he said. ″The butterfly has beaten its wings. That thunderclap echoes across continents.″ Graber nodded. I do not know what that means, and I do not wish to know.
″Hail Maitreya!″ he said aloud.
The rolling land here was not totally unlike his home; no high mountains, of course, or any open range, but endless conifers a little like the foothill forests. The cold and snowfall didn′t bother a man reared in the Bitterroot country and the Valley of Paradise; he had a good buffalo-hide robe over his armor and gambeson, thick wool trousers, and for the rest the Sword of the Prophet were trained to welcome hardship. A true man transcended the material with the stuff of his atman.
Write Review:
Guest
Read Also
9 / 10
User Reviews: