《A Poem for Springtime》Chapter 3 - The Hermit’s Gift

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The old man continued to try to pull the club away from Kidu. Kidu twisted the club free and the team the man started to howl.

"Calm yourself," demanded Kidu, tossing the club over to Timlan. "I'm not going to hurt you. Who are you? Why are you here? How did you get here?"

"Three questions," the old man cackled. "Who are you? Why are you here? How did you get here?"

Kidu sighed. "I'll answer you, but you must tell me about yourself afterwards. I am Kidu e'Rengu and this is Timlan. We are both from House Angshar. We are here looking for someone. Perhaps it is you whom we are looking for."

"How did you get here?" the old man growled, rubbing his wrist.

"I did not mean to hurt you," Kidu said. He glanced at Timlan and for a moment considered grabbing the old man and carrying him back to Angshar. “We climbed through the night. We spent the night at the Cloud Seat. I knew how to get here because I've been here before."

"Kidu of House Angshar...did someone send you...for this humble servant?" the old man asked, peering into Kidu's eyes.

"My master Rengu sent me to investigate recent disappearances of supplies at the Cloud Seat. Are you the thief that has been raiding the temple?" Kidu asked.

"So no one sent you..." the old man slumped over. "This servant doesn't know what the Cloud Seat is."

Kidu saw hunger and a loneliness in the old man’s eyes. He began to pity the old man. "It is the temple carved into the side of the mountain that overlooks the lake of House Angshar and all its fields."

"This servant is only an old hermit that lives on the mountain," the old man said. "This is what the Great Master called this servant...just an old hermit. This servant visited your carved temple twice, because of hunger. This servant went to pray but the temple is of the Great Master's gods of the five fingers, not the Spring God. But he is no thief. He only took what was promised by the Great Master."

"Who is this Great Master?"

"Alas, the one who has forgotten Serkrit. Yes, that is the old hermit's name, though he has not uttered it himself in a very long time. Without the Great Master's grace, Serkrit's fate is sealed. He went to the temple again but there was no longer any food. No food but endless winter. He made a promise to the Great Master…a promise! He swore to forsake the Spring God but without the Great Master's hand to guide him Serkrit was lost and cold. So he didn't know what else to do so he prayed to the Spring God, using the old words he had not used for many years. Two days later Serkrit found the Fruit of the Earth." The hermit began crying. "This is how Serkrit knows the Spring God had returned, for only He could answer such prayers. Serkrit promised a long time ago he would not eat the Fruit, but this time he did. It is an ill omen for the Great Master."

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“He's making no sense,” Timlan said. “He keeps referring to himself as He.”

"Serkrit," Kidu said, lifting the hermit to his feet. "Come off the mountain with me. We will give you food, warmth and welcome in our House. Angshar is benevolent. However it is a difficult climb down for an old man. If you will allow it, I will bear you upon my back."

"Master Kidu of House Angshar, forgiveness please for striking at you. Serkrit had mistaken you for another gift of Fruit from the Spring God. This servant has a gift of his own, for you, if you will please permit the old man to go back to his home.”

"Kidu, no," Timlan said.

"Masters of the House should not fear an old hermit," Serkrit said, bowing his head. “Come with me.”

Kidu nodded. Serkrit bowed and climbed up the rope ladder like a wary animal. A scattering of things could be heard, then quiet. Kidu waited and strained to hear any sounds but could discern nothing. "Serkrit!" he called, but no answer came. Kidu climbed up the ladder and poked his head into a small chamber. The room was lit by a small fire in a what looked like the top of a skull. There was a crude bed with a pile of coats and a low table with a pile of satchels. Serkrit was digging through a box he had pulled out from beneath the table.

“Where did you get these things?” Kidu asked. “These satchels belong to others?”

Serkrit spun around and handed Kidu a weathered red roll of leather. “A gift for the young master.”

As Kidu took it, he was better able to examine Serkrit’s fur lined coat. It was too large for him, and it was easily the newest thing that was in the room. “Where did you get this coat?”

“The Fruit of the Earth,” the old man said, walking to the end of the chamber by a wooden door. He flung open the door and exposed the pale blue sky, the light flooding the room. In the light Serkrit’s age truly showed as the wrinkles on his face and eyes ran deep. “Good, both are here. Master Timlan of House Angshar, Yes?”

“Not quite a master,” Timlan said, climbing up the rope ladder. He stood beside Kidu examining the red scroll. “So this is the Small Cell. Kidu, how did you know someone was in here?”

Kidu shook his head. “What is this gift I am looking at, Serkrit?"

Serkrit squatted next to the open door and motioned for them to follow him. The door opened out to the snow. He showed them where the steps in the snow were as he climbed down from the door.

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“What did he mean by Fruit of the Earth?” Timlan whispered.

“I’m fearing the worst,” Kidu said under his breath. “But lets see where he takes us.”

Kidu and Timlan followed him through the door, the bright sun from earlier in the day now having dipped low in the afternoon, shrouded by clouds. Kidu realized he must have been out for hours after he fell. Serkrit slid down to a flat clearing. From this vantage point, Kidu could see the hole he fell through.

“This is the door to the Small Cell!” Timlan exclaimed.

Kidu nodded and scaled down the ledge to follow the hermit.

Serkrit walked over near the edge of the cliff and looked down on the city below, his back crooked. “Many years ago this servant was in the lands of Spring with the Great Master and a young horse lord. The Great Master took a single prize from the lands of Spring, but the horse lord took many treasures as his bare arms would allow. One of those treasures the horse lord took is this gift you now hold. When Serkrit left the lands of the Spring and returned to the footsteps of the Great Master's House, there was a terrible argument over the treasures. The young horse lord refused to hand over the treasures he had claimed, and he challenged the Master. The Master then broke both of the horse lord's arms for defiance. This servant took pity upon the horse lord and followed him to the mountains where he found a new house."

"Do none of the people in your stories have any names?" Timlan asked.

"It is ill to speak the names of those who are not here," Serkrit said, "even if those have been ill to this servant."

The contents of the scroll made no sense to Kidu. There were strange markings and drawings, lines, angles and a language he was not familiar with. “What happened to you, Serkrit?" Kidu asked, rolling up the scroll and handing it to Timlan. “You are not borne of this land, are you? Your name and accent is not one I’m familiar with.”

"The Horse Lord was cruel to this servant," Serkrit said, looking away. He scratched the back of his wrinkled but tough neck. He put his hand up and made a gesture as if something was falling. "The Horse Lord wanted to cast lightning upon the world but this servant would not allow him. The red gift you see, Master Kidu, this servant took this gift far away so the Horse Lord could not use it. Where to go? Cold and snow, cold and snow! Where Serkrit is from, there is no cold and snow. No where to run. Only to the Great Master, Serkrit returned to the Great Master’s house. The Great Master would not take his servant back to his house, he said his servant could not be trusted. Instead the Great Master has been hiding this servant away in the mountain ever since."

Serkrit nudged up to the very edge of the cliff and looked down upon the shimmering lake and the fields surrounding Angshar. He could see the small rafts adrift on the lake. "Master Kidu may never understand the words written on the red scroll, but the Great Master knew that it was more important that the Horse Lord never be able to read them. Down there is a baby that you must find. He is the prize that the Great Master brought back from the lands of Spring. The Horse Lord will burn these islands to find that baby."

"Where is the baby now?" Kidu asked. "Do you have his name?"

"Alas the Master never named him to Serkrit," the hermit said. "He has the blood of the South. Find him and protect him, for the Great Master found him to be the greatest prize in the world, and worth saving beyond all else."

"We have dried fish for you, and if you will climb down with us we have more food waiting at the Cloud Seat," Kidu said. "Help me find the baby."

"When you see the Master, tell him Serkrit waited for him as long as he could," he said. The vulture perched itself on a tree next to the hermit. He cocked his head at the vulture, who let out a raspy hiss in return. "Tell the Master that his humble servant failed him when he spoke the old words. But Serkrit held the red gift secret as long as he could and now he gives it to Master Kidu, from the same house as the Master. Death comes before the end of this day. Oh Master Kidu…winter is ending, and the Spring God is coming."

Serkrit leapt from the edge of the cliff. Kidu and Timlan rushed to the edge but watched in silence as the old hermit was gone.

"Who was he?" Timlan asked. "How long had he been here?" And who is his Great Master?"

"Three questions," Kidu replied, looking down at the city.

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