Chapter 19

You learn fast, young one, Roshan said with a shake of his head, not entirely displeased.

The pupil whom the Satu had named two smiled in spite of himself.

Thank you, master, he said, bowing his head.

The Satu smiled kindly.

Too fast, I think, to truly be learning that which cannot be taught,

he said. August Fenwick's brow furrowed deeply. Master, he asked. You are driven, young

stranger, the old man said, pouring a cup of a bitter concoction that he called tea,

to Fenwick's profound disappointment when first offered a cup, the master

made no such offer to-day. He looked down at where his charge sat awaiting instruction.

He smiled and shook his head. Even now you strain like a greyhound in the slips, waiting to be

taught, to be told. One does not need to be a master of the mind to see that you

have done this before. I see you at the martial exercises you maintain to keep your skills sharp

through these months of meditation. You learn, you absorb, you adapt, and you move on, stronger

than you were before.

"'Is that wrong?' the young man asked.

"'If you wish merely to be a jack of all trades, no,' the saddou's head, cradling the cup in his

hands.

"'You are skilled, dedicated, and driven by unseen demons at which I can only guess.

If you left here today you would be a giant among lesser men,

but you would always be vulnerable.

To what? There was fire in the young man's eyes.

...