The Truth of Time

Tenzin grew tired as she carried the prayer wheel up the steep path of the hillside toward the princess’s summer home. It was early summer, and the sun was already high in the sky. Her sandals were not made for this type of walk, being more suited for the flat grounds of the valley below.

Tenzin stopped for a moment as the slight wind blowing off of the hill pushed her long black hair back over her shoulders. She put the prayer wheel down and took a drink from the leather water bag she carried over her shoulder. Although she was a young woman in her late teens, and an athlete, the fatigue was beginning to show in her stride. The princess needs me and I must do this, she thought.

Tenzin turned to look down toward the villages at the foot of the hill. It was a bit cooler up here, and her soft leather blouse was not quite warm enough. She shivered and folded her arms. On the other side of the narrow valley was the castle where the princess lived with her father and mother, the king and queen. And the Tibetan countryside was in full bloom, waiting for the heat of summer to begin to turn everything a light brown.

Suddenly she felt something. Not good. Evil. A sense that she was being watched or followed. A chill ran through her body. She caught her breath, picked up the wheel, and ran up the path for about 150 feet, where she entered the cottage and slammed the door. She tried to calm down and catch her breath. Her hand instinctively felt for the handcrafted gold charm necklace her mother had given her for inner strength. Right now she needed that.

It was just my imagination, she thought. Then she heard a loud thud as someone pounded a fist against the door. She gasped, frightened and all alone.

But today would not be her day to die. While she was not the strongest woman in the valley, she was an excellent markswoman, trained by the Mongolian royal guard. She grabbed her bow from its pouch on her back. Tenzin was proud of this weapon because it was a personal gift from the princess.

She gathered herself, squatted in a military defensive position with one knee on the ground, drew the bow, and waited. The seconds seemed like forever. As she held that position, she began to feel a stream of perspiration running down her neck, onto her chest, and between her breasts, dampening her clothing. Her heart beat loudly and quickly, but her training had been excellent, and she was focused and calm. The pounding on the door stopped, but she could still hear the pounding of her heart. Calm yourself, she thought. There is only one person, I know it. She continued to wait in her stance. Nothing. She still waited, sensing something was about to happen. And it did.

Tenzin knew he was about to break the door down. It was her other worldly sense warning her. The princess would joke about it, as would her father. But her other worldly sense never failed her. Tenzin pulled the bow back. She knew her own strength and was sure she could hold it for ten seconds at most. She began counting. One … two … three …

At the end of the fifth second there was a tremendous thud. The door flew off its hinges. Just as it fell, she released the arrow. The large man never expected it. He was hit directly in the chest, and his last look was one of great surprise and pain before he fell straight forward and on top of the door, dead. In his limp hand was an ax, meant for her. He would make it look like a robber’s attack and no one would suspect it was the work of a conspirator.

As he fell, Tenzin had already drawn the second bow and pulled it back, waiting for a second attacker. But there was no one else.

She waited several minutes in attack position and then slowly got up, her bow still slightly drawn, and walked outside. She was convinced the attacker was alone and may have represented a rival group pitted against the king. Or was he there for the prayer wheel? She thought no one knew she had it or that she was in the cottage, except for the princess, her father, King Nyatri Tsenpo, and his closest advisor, Kunchen Chrodron.

Her heart pounded. She felt this was not a good place for her to be. She practically ran down the hillside where her horse was still waiting, and they galloped to the castle. In the saddlebag, tucked inside an old blanket, was the prayer wheel, safe for the moment. She wanted to cry but could not. Her back ached from the ride, but she would not stop. She knew that the princess and her father may be in grave danger. She had to reach them soon. For on this day, her family would be safe. No one she loved would die on this day.