Warren Murphy: Master's Challenge

H'si T'ang smiled. "At my age, respect from one's peers is not so important as understanding of one's own heart. This 'rough place,' as you call it, is of my own choosing. For it is here, away from the traffic of daily life, that I may contemplate all the things that I was too busy to notice during my youth." He reached for the Inca's long, tapering fingers. "For example, twenty years ago, I would not have been able to know that your hands were burned without seeing or touching you,"

Ancion snatched his hands away. "Don't touch me."

14

"I am more than one hundred and thirty years old," H'si T'ang said. "1 would not harm you, but I can help you." With an impossibly swift motion, he clapped Ancion's hands between his own and held them. When he released them, the Inca stared at his palms in amazement. The burns had healed completely in the instant that H'si T'ang had touched them.

"Sorcery," Ancion whispered, making a sign against witchcraft. "One such as you should never have been permitted to fight in the Master's Trial. You killed my grandfather with trickery."

"1 felled your grandfather, the great warrior Huaton, in combat."

"You bewitched him!" Ancion shrieked.

"1 cannot bewitch. 1 can only heal. 1 would have healed Huaton if 1 could, but he was dead even before he fell."

Ancion shouted him down. "There is no Master's Trial, only the work of sorcerers!"

"Stop it!" Jilda commanded. "The Master's Trial is an evil thing. It is causing us to rum against one another already.''

"This is not your affair, woman," Ancion said coldly.

"1 am one of the contestants in this misbegotten game, and it is my affair," Jilda said. "We must stop the Trial before it begins. There are so few of us left, we people of honor and strength. Why should we seek to destroy one another when the whole world pushes to destroy us?"

"Sorcery," Ancion muttered.

Jilda rose. "Inca ruler, I witnessed the death of my predecessor at the hands of the Master Chiun. He used no sorcery. But if that is what you fear, then help me to stop this wicked contest."

"1 fear no one! It is you who fear, because you are a woman, and by nature a coward."

15

Jilda's jaw clenched. She stared at the Inca for a long moment, as if Fighting with herself. Then, exhaling suddenly, she pulled the dagger from her belt and leaped like a deer toward Ancion. He moved out of her way swiftly, pulling out his own knife.

it happened in a matter of seconds. Then, in another moment, a third pair of moving hands entered between then, snatched both daggers away, and thrust them upward, where they quivered embedded in the stone ceiling of the cave.

"This is why we have the tradition of the Master's Trial," Chiun said wearily, his hands still on their wrists. "This way, only four from each generation among us are destroyed."

Ancion jumped up and extricated his knife from the rock. He held it, hesitating as he watched the blank eyes of H'si T'ang. Then he slid the blade back into its sheath. "I will fight your apprentice. But if there is any trickery, my people will stand ready to tear his limbs and scatter his blood on the wind." He threw his cloak over his shoulder and left.

Chiun poured more tea into the remaining cups and cleared the Inca's things away. "Not the peaceful meeting I planned."

"It was my fault," Jilda said. "I attacked him." She hung her head. "I, who wished to abolish the bloodshed."

"Violence is a difficult habit to break among our kind," H'si T'ang said kindly. "It is the way of all our peoples. It is how we have survived."

"But we don't have to kill each other."

"That is for each of you to decide in your own heart." He turned to Emrys. "Tell me, will you resign from the contest?"

Emrys grunted. "I'll not be called a coward."

16

H'si T'ang nodded. "And you, Jilda. You would not permit yourself to be called a coward, either?"

"It is different for me. I'm a woman. I cannot be the only one to retreat. The elders of Lakluun would be shamed."

"I see. And you, Kiree? Would your elders be shamed?"

The little black man smiled. "Very much," he said. "You see, the Tellem do not believe in death. It is our belief that when we die, our spirits are transferred to others. That way, we continue to live. To fear shedding one life when there is promise of another at hand is most unworthy."

"We believe much the same thing here in Sinanju," H'si T'ang said.

Jilda sighed. "So the Master's Trial goes on. Because we are afraid to be afraid."

"That is so," H'si T'ang said.

They slept. The next morning, as the three warriors prepared to take their leave, Chiun gave each of them a polished piece of jade inscribed with Korean characters. "It is the symbl of the Master's Trial," Chiun said. "When my pupil comes to your lands for the contest, he will be carrying one of these so that you may recognize one another."

"What about Ancion?" Jilda asked.

Kiree laughed. "I think Ancion will have everyone in his country looking for the protegee of the Master of Sinanju."

Emrys strapped his knapsack onto his back. H'si T'ang moved toward him in the shadows. "Forgive me, but there is something about you, my son. Your aura. Something is wrong."

Emrys looked back quickly to Jilda and Kiree, standing in the doorway of the cave. "There's nothing wrong with me," he said loudly.

17

"it is your eyes-"

"My eyes are as good as anybody's. Good enough to fight your boy, at least," he bristled. Then he straightened up and smiled. "No offense, H'si T'ang. Whatever you did to Ancion's hands last night made a good show, but I don't cleave much to magic and hocus pocus myself. Besides, I can see just fine. Your aura locator made a mistake this time." He chuckled and joined the others at the door.

When they had left, Chiun turned to the old man and said, "The big one is becoming blind."

"I know. But he is too proud to admit it."

They settled near the fire. "And where is your successor now?" the old man asked.

"In America. But he will arrive here soon. I wish for you to meet him."

"Then his visit must be very soon, because my days are coming to an end," H'si T'ang said softly. "He is a good pupil?"

"Good enough," Chiun said, not wishing to boast about his protegee. "He is white."

"Oh?"

"But worthy," Chiun hastened to add. "That is, reasonably worthy. For a white."

H'si T'ang laughed. "I am making you uncomfortable," he said. "I do it out of amusement, because you are so painfully prejudiced."

"I did not wish to train a white boy. It just happened."

"It was meant to happen. Perhaps you do not know the legend. You are still so young."

Chiun was disconcerted. "I have lived more than eighty years, my teacher. No one would call me young."

H'si T'ang snorted. "Wait until you are my age. Even the mountains will appear young. You do know the legend, then?"

18

"Which legend? We have so many."

"The legend of Shiva." The old man spoke softly, remembering. "The ancient god of destruction will come to earth as a tiger wearing the skin of a man. He will be called the white night tiger, and he will die, to be created anew by the Master of Sinanju."

"I know the legend," Chiun said. "It has sustained me."

"And he is the one? The white night tiger?"

"I believe so. I have seen signs in him."

"And the boy? Does he know himself to be Shiva?"

Chiun shook his head. "He tries not to believe. Even when the signs exhibit themselves, he strives to forget. He is white, after all. What can one expect from a white thing?" He spat on the cave floor.

"He is only young. Too young, perhaps, to undertake the Master's Trial. He has not encountered opponents such as these contestants before, no doubt."

"No. Not like these."