The winter had gone, but for dirty patches of granular ice that were once great drifts of snow. A slight chill sat still beneath the breeze, as if there were some small threat of an icy rain or blizzard jumping upon the valley. But the people of Lin did not feel it, or more probably ignored it, as they opened their homes and shops and swept the dust of months from the wooden floors. Neighbor women, who had not seen one another since the the snows had first begun to fall, embraced and chatted away. Children ran through motes of pollen, sneezed and then laughed with the great, drunken belly laughs of their fathers, who downed sake in the tavern up the hill. No doubt, in all of this, marriages were being arranged.

Genji leaned against a tree, looking over the town from the western height. Asoka stood near, brushing onto a thick canvas.

"It is a fine day, Asoka."

"Yes, Basho Genji! A wonderful day!"

"The valley comes to life. It is quite beautiful."

Asoka squinted, his entire bald head gathering together upon his weak eyes.

"Yes," he said. "Green everywhere! It is as pretty as a picture!"

"You are painting all of this? Or perhaps it inspires a poem?"

Asoka stopped brushing, cocked his head to the side as if he had not thought of that.

"Certainly, Genji, I would not be able to capture all of this glory with a fat brush and a tin of black ink. Where would I start? More importantly, where would I end? There, see, a mote of pollen swirls into an even prettier form. How would I paint that?"

"I believe you might be able to. And we might then draw warmth from it when we are preoccupied by trial and tribulation. We might use it to refocus our minds and our hearts upon the truth."

Asoka scowled severely.

"Bah! There is no truth here! A painting would only distract you!"

"Of course, Asoka."

"Murasaki Tanka must have taught you. He must have told you of Jojii's great sermon at Rapadma, that which became the crux of the great First Sutra? Certainly you know that all of this about us is as fleeting as the wind that blows through it, and is as true as the set of a play!"

Basho Genji smiled. Asoka could never resist a smile, or sake.

"So what are you painting, then, strange man? What is so true that you would stain the sleeves of your robe so badly and waste so much canvas?"

He gestured toward the crumpled, discarded sheets that littered the ground by the monk's side. Asoka smiled.

"I am brushing a portrait of you, Basho Genji!"

The monk Ananda crested the hill, then, his robes swishing through the tall flowering stalks. He grunted loudly as he pulled himself up the final steps.

"The students have vanquished a large number of drudges, Basho Genji. The demons thought it well to interrupt the morning meditation. Now they are dead. Grandfather took the moment to watch the younger members. They performed excellently, but he may have some discussion on the form of one or two. Always form, with him!"

Asoka shushed his fellow monk as he applied finishing touches to the canvas.

"What are you painting, there, Asoka? What is it?"

"It is me. He paints a portrait of me."

Ananda walked behind Asoka, peered over his shoulder. Ananda smiled.

"An excellent likeness. Yes, I see. Excellent."

"Let me see, Asoka."

Ananda smiled again and looked up at Basho Genji. Asoka turned the canvas toward the blademaster.

"These monks, always with their riddles!" spat Genji as he marched down the road. He stared at the cobblestones, and so almost ran into Arlorn, who led the soldiers from the woods.

"Lord Basho! We have defeated many, many drudges. Certainly they might have invaded!"

Genji smiled as Arlorn related the tale with boundless enthusiasm. The rest of the soldiers filed past, some with small wounds. All walked stiffly, for they had spent hours in meditation before the battle. They fought bravely and honorable, victoriously, with stiff legs. They were learning Detachment. Excellent.

" ... I, at one point, was surrounded by nearly seven prowlers ..."

Genji could not help but be preoccupied by Asoka's painting. The Great Precept. The circle. Unity. Repetition. What was he saying?

"... Iwata was most brave ..."

Why now? What is strange man's riddle?

"... are you lsitening, Lord Basho?"

"Yes. Yes. Of course, Arlorn. You have fought bravely. Tend to whatever wounds, then have them sweep the hall and scrub the bath house. Then lunch. Akemi may join them. Be sure she is notified that lunch will be later, today. Here, also, is a message to Shinjin Myoken. Have it sent through our usual couriers. And here is another to Pew. It is important that he receive this tomorrow, at the latest."

"Yes, Lord Basho. I will see to it."

"Excellent, Arlorn."

"Lord --"

"What is it, Arlorn?"

"You seem ... preoccupied."

"It is not part of your training to wonder after mine, Arlorn!" He softened a bit, placed his hand upon the young warrior's shoulder. "You have led the students well, this morning. Be sure they focus upon their tasks and do not lose themselves."

"Yes, Lord Basho."

"I," Genji thought, "will have to focus as well."

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