Free The Path by Rebecca Neason Page B

the Dalai Lama. After the door had shut behind him, the young man folded his hands
     and closed his eyes. He let the silence of the room envelop him with its peace.
    I said you have a strong aura, Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod
, he thought into the silence,
and today in your agitation, it boiled around you, filling this room like a fire. I know you were angry that I would not let
     you speak your words against the missionaries. You fear for my people—but I fear foryou. You carry so much pain. I could not let you speak and give it more strength, more power over your soul. You must let
     go of your pain and your anger. They are passing. They are insubstantial
.
    The Dalai Lama opened his eyes and stared at the tapestry on the wall across from him. There was no Buddha figure in this
     one, no figures of fierce or compassionate deities, no saints or monks or Bodhi tree; no obvious symbols of Enlightenment.
     But this tapestry was Enlightenment itself. It was of the Kalachakra Mandala, the Wheel that is Time. During his fifth incarnation,
     the Dalai Lama had it hung in this room where so many came to him for counsel, to remind himself that all existence is fleeting;
     it was one of his most clear memories from that life. The reminder was often indispensable to his peace, for it helped ease
     the burden he too often felt as he opened his heart to compassion for those who came to him. And somehow the Dalai Lama felt
     that helping Duncan MacLeod was going to be both his greatest challenge and greatest necessity.
    As the Dalai Lama stared at the tapestry, at the brightly colored designs flowing clockwise, his thoughts again returned to
     the
age
he felt surrounding MacLeod. It puzzled him. An old soul that had seen many other lifetimes, perhaps, but that was not the
     only answer. It was too simple—and the Dalai Lama knew there was nothing simple about Duncan MacLeod.
    Tomorrow, my friend
, the Dalai Lama thought,
tomorrow, I think, we will cease this game we have been playing. Tomorrow we begin to walk the path of deeper truth. Are you
     ready? The only way to walk that path is to release your secrets and the pain they cause you
.
    But what is a man except his secrets—and his pain?
    Down in the city of Lhasa, the man known as Father Edward was also thinking about Duncan MacLeod. The other Europeans in the
     city—his companion, Father Jacques, the three Capuchin Brothers—posed no threat, but MacLeod worried him.
    The way he carries himself he must be a soldier, maybe a mercenary
, Father Edward thought as he wandered through the rooms of the house that served as both home and church, tugging with irritation
     at the stiff white collar around his throat. Hehated it, just as he hated the European clothes and the long black cassock he was forced to wear.
    He wanted to be back m uniform again, riding beside the invincible Nasiradeen, leader of the Gurkhas; he wanted to be sword
     in hand against the foe, any foe. Instead he was stuck here, pretending to be a priest because he had been educated by European
     missionaries. He spoke their language and knew the things they said about their God.
    He had hated the missionaries and their school when he was a child, and he hated them now. He smiled into the silence as he
     remembered the real Father Edward. How easy it had been to walk up to him, speaking a greeting in his own language. How the
     priest had smiled a welcome—a smile that turned to a scream when the sword pierced his heart.
    That sword, the one that had killed the priest, the spy had had to leave behind when he assumed Father Edward’s identity.
     He missed his weapon, but its discovery would have been a threat to his mission. Soon he would find another one, or something
     that would serve, and he would use this identity he had assumed to get within striking distance of the Dalai Lama. He, too,
     would soon fall by Edward’s hand.
    Nasiradeen, himself, had been pleased by this plan. The Gurkah leader wanted