The Path by Rebecca Neason Page A

them separate, Duncan realized as his body warmed. Memory is stored in the muscles,
     Kiem Sun had once told him and as Duncan kicked and lunged, struck, turned, and parried, images of the months he had spent
     in Japan emerged. He saw again Hideo Koto’s face as he had first seen it; eyes shining, sword in hand—every inch the proud
     and fierce warrior MacLeod came to know and respect.
    His death had been a hard blow. Harder still was the knowledge that his death had come for MacLeod’s sake. The samurai had
     known about the law forbidding the harboring of Westerners, of “barbarians,” yet when MacLeod had found himself alive once
     more on the shores of Japan, still surrounded by the flotsam of his destroyed ship, Koto had taken him in as the honorable
     thing to do for the stranger who had saved his life.
    Honor governed every moment of Hideo Koto’s life—and it had governed his death. To save his family’s name and honor, he had
     chosen
seppuku
, the ritual suicide, rather than execution for his disobedience of the law. It had been one of the most difficult acts of
     MacLeod’s long life to stand as Koto’s second; one of the hardest blows he had ever had to strike, to use Koto’s own
katana
to sever his head and end the ritual.
    At that moment, and at this, MacLeod hated death.
    He’d had enough of memories. Too much. He pushed away the image of Koto’s lifeless body, pushed his own body harder, until
     all he could think of was controlling his breath in the thinTibetan air. Soon his blood was pounding in his ears, his body bathed in sweat. He did not want to remember; he had come here
     to forget.
    Forget
.
    That single word became a mantra of his own making. He breathed it in and held it deeply. It fed his soul like the oxygen
     that sustained his body.
    Forget
.
    He pushed the memories out with his breath, exhaling them like poison. He struck at them with his hands, kicked at them with
     his legs.
    Forget
.
    The past is a darkness filled with ghosts. Put them to rest.
    The future is a chasm, a void unseen.
    Forget
.
    Forget
.
    He continued through all the multiple
kata
, changing from the karate forms he had learned from Hideo Koto to the
kata
of the Way of the White Crane he had been taught by May-Ling. Light from the window moved toward shadow, and finally he sank
     to his knees, too exhausted to push his body further. His muscles burned, and he welcomed the pain. It gave him focus. For
     a moment the voices were silent, the faces withdrawn. For this instant there was nothing more than here and now.
    A gong sounded somewhere in the Potala. Duncan tried to ignore it, but it shattered the delicate silence in which he was existing.
     Reality crashed back in upon him.
    Duncan sighed and reached for his shirt.
I wonder how they feel about baths in this place
, he thought as he began to wipe the sweat from his torso. Frequent bathing was also a habit he had picked up in Japan. It
     was difficult to maintain during his travels and had been close to impossible while living with his nomad friends. Maybe here
     in this great palace there would be the chance of hot water.
    I’ll ask
, he told himself.
All they can do is think I’m as crazy as I probably am
.
    With a wry grin, he stood and looked around for where they had put his bag with his change of clothes. He would like to wash
     before he put on clean things, but he could not run half-naked through the palace trying to find a tub.
    It took him a few minutes to find his possessions, neatly folded and stacked behind the privacy screen. He left the small
     tent and blankets, the water pouch and the sack of food, and carried the long, narrow bag that held his few traveling clothes
     to the bed. Unlacing it quickly, he lifted and shook out each of the three silk shirts he had brought with him from China,
     the extra pair of wool pants, and, finally, the long robe that he had carried from Japan. In the bag were a pair of soft-soled
     sandals, also from Japan,