Ash wipes his brow as Big Shoe puts him through the paces of hand-to-hand combat. They play a game called “sticking hands” where they try to touch each other’s torso without breaking wrist-to-wrist contact. The game requires using and absorbing force mostly through footwork. Ash discovers he still has much to learn.
As a result of defeating Tongueater, the Monks of the Order of the Flying Sandal agreed that Ash can be trained in Grandmaster Fu’s Kung Fu style, which heretofore only these few monks sequestered in a dark half world have known.
“How would you describe the style of Grandmaster Fu?” Big Shoe asks Ash during one of their training sessions.
Ash hesitates, not sure how to respond. Big Shoe responds with a feint high and then reaches low and nearly grabs Ash’s testicles.
“Is this part of Grandmaster Fu’s style?” Big Shoe asks, his gaze piercing.
“Apparently,” Ash responds, stepping back and protecting himself below the belt. “Although usually those types of moves are off limits,” Ash adds.
Big Shoe’s silence causes Ash to add, “For honour,” but he knows immediately that the answer has not satisfied the human monk.
Big Shoe steps back and begins to circle Ash in long strides.
“Does Grandmaster Fu’s style have honour?” He asks.
Ash stammers, no good answers coming to mind.
“Does Grandmaster Fu have honour?” Big Shoe ups the game.
Ash continues to hum and haw. He almost says he has never met Grandmaster Fu, but he suddenly recalls Morgan standing behind him in Alandra de Winter’s parlour and feeling his terrifying presence.
“Do you have honour, Lord Ash?” Big Shoe asks finally, seemingly getting to his point.
“I do, yes,” Ash responds easily.
“So you do not engage in maneuvers that lack honour? You are a true master of the arts.” This last is said more like a statement than a question.
Ash nods and smiles. Maybe the human monk is starting to understand.
But Big Shoe’s face turns dark. “If you and I fought right now to decide who is the better martial artist, your honourable restraint would reflect well on you, and if you defeated me thus, you would earn great honour. You would possess a precious thing,” he emphasizes, suddenly reminding Ash of the typical monk’s eschewing of material things, which phrased like that, honour itself sounds like it might be.
“Now what if hunters using dogs were chasing Nyneve through the woods and all that stood between them and her was you and her ability to run? What restraint would you show then?” Big Shoe asks.
“None,” Ash answers immediately.
“None,” Big Shoe confirms stamping his big shoe for effect.
“None,” he says again. “Honour in fighting is a prize for you. You must let it go now. It will get in the way of your duty. There is no honour in Grandmaster Fu’s style. Only keeping your charge alive matters now. There is much at stake, and you have chosen to play an important role.”
—————
After Ash defeats Tongueater, Zymaan and Kildrak take responsibility for dismantling Tongueater’s monkey making operations. It turns out to be a complex operation with many stages, from using human slaves to mine jade from rock, to smelting factories and forges and more. Ultimately green mana is distilled from the jade and sent through vines through the jungle to monkey making locations.
In the process of doing the work, Zymaan begins to understand the metaphysical properties of green mana. In particular, its potency in summoning magics. A small amount of green mana can fuel large castings. A small amount of green mana can, it turns out, create a new monkey whole from a machine.
Kildrak bores of Zymaan’s studies of green mana until it becomes clear that Kildrak’s new war hammer, made of dark rock with deep veins of jade in it, also has an affinity for green mana. In fact, when Kildrak soaks the weapon in the streams of green mana still flowing before Tongueater’s operations are fully dismantled, the weapon drinks mightily of the proffered magics and then falls into a hibernation mode as it digests them.
“I can tell my warhammer is pleased with me,” Kildrak tells Zymaan.
“Good,” Zymaan nods. “We will need it happy when our enemies come again.”
Before their work is done, Kildrak and Zymaan succeed in two further things. First, they bottle three great big jugs of green mana for future use – their thinking being that the war hammer will drink this too once it has expended whatever powers the green mana fuels. Second, they discover a giant underground cistern of green mana which they agree to keep secret between them.
Such great rapport develops between these two men that they begin to discuss combat tactics over the campfire and improved ways to combine Zymaan’s magical prowess with Kildrak’s martial prowess. One ranged and the other melee – it seems like a perfect match.
They get the chance to test their theories soon enough when they are beset upon by lizard folk who dare to descend from the mountains into the jungle. It is a useful reminder that there is a fourth Lantern of Light inhabiting the Lizard King close by, whatever that is.*
Their comfort with each other becomes so great that one night Zymaan dares to include Kildrak in a casting by the campfire. But what begins as a mundane communion with local spirits becomes more interesting when the Great Old One assumes a grumbling voice and speaks to them both through the flames. He speaks of matters largely beyond their understanding, of cosmic patterns and a balance upset. While the words are unclear and soon forgotten, both men clearly agree on their meaning when they awake the next morning.
A cosmic battle rages between good and evil. Alandra de Winter is descended from the good, and Morgan is descended from the evil. Like water and oil, never before had it been considered that the two might commune to create offspring made simultaneously of both. Neither the Courts of Chaos, where both men suddenly know Grim has gone, nor the Heavens of Light can tolerate the other’s infection. The only thing upon which these forces can agree is that any evidence contrary to this belief must be eradicated.
“I have a feeling something bad is going to happen,” Kildrak confesses to Zymaan.
Zymaan swallows hard and agrees. “I feel it too. Something has changed… for the worse.”
Then together they feel it. Grim has said or done something where he is to give the Courts of Chaos the information they need to find Nyneve and come get her here.
They race off together to warn the others.
*By my records, you have three Lanterns of Light so far. I have Ryparin and Kildrak carrying 1 and 2, and Ash a living one (3). Disagree? I need to be correct in my next story post.