The Wandering God

33 Men Are Not Sages, How Can They Be Free From Fault 3/3

人非圣贤，孰能无过
Rén fēi shèngxián, shú néng wú guò
Men are not sages, how can they be free from fault.
To err is human.

Kageyama returned to the main temple to sleep.

In the morning he rose and went to the stables. He had brushed Makabe down quickly the night before, and wanted to take more time to groom the animal, now that he had the morning's light to aid him.

A monk was just emerging from night duty in the stables. He yawned and stretched his arms as Kageyama passed him.

Makabe was quietly cropping the hay Kageyama had left for him. Kageyama gently patted the horse's warm side, drawing comfort from the familiar warmth and smell.

Kageyama began to care for his horse. He went about the routine, something so familiar, something that he had done so many times for so many different horses, he could almost do it without thought.

The only difference in routine came from the horse, as each horse had its own personality. Makabe for instance, did not like having his left rear foot touched, and always shook his hoof free from Kageyama's hand when the kitsune tried to clean it.

Kageyama did that foot first, holding the hoof tight between his legs so Makabe could not pull it free. Once the dirt and rocks had been picked from that foot, Kageyama fell into the familiar rhythm.

After the hooves, Kageyama brushed Makabe's coat to a glossy sheen, till no more dust came from the downward strokes of the brush. Then Kageyama moved on to combing Makabe's mane, something less essential, but still necessary.

When the comb encountered knots, Kageyama would put it down and gently work the knots out with his fingers, something most horse owners did not bother to do.

"I spoil you, boy," Kageyama said, patting the horse on the neck.

Finally, mane combed, Kageyama took a cloth and carefully wiped around Makabe's eyes and nostrils, cleaning the soft flesh there.

As he gently drew cloth over Makabe's eyes and nose, Kageyama found himself smiling, thinking of when he had first taught Sanli to groom Little Light.

Sanli had been ten. It had been a year since his mother had died, yet still Sanli was quiet, closed off from the world and everyone around him.

Then Kageyama had an idea. He bought a dapple grey gelding from a horse trader passing through Lin'jing and had the gelding brought to the valley.

"I have a special lesson for you today," Kageyama said to Sanli when the boy appeared in his courtyard that morning, dressed by the servants.

Sanli's eyes, wide and so green, regarded Kageyama distrustfully.

Kageyama led Sanli out to the stables, and showed him how to go through the steps of grooming the horse.

As he brushed the animal, Sanli's eyes, his face, his body, icy in their rigidness, slowly softened, until a faint warmth came from his eyes.

Finally, the boy smiled.

When they finished, Kageyama helped Sanli give the horse food and water, and change the bedding of straw.

"Now when you rise tomorrow, come here and do everything again," said Kageyama as they left.

Sanli looked up at him questioningly, wondering why the lesson would be repeated.

"What?" asked Kageyama, struggling to hide his smile. "Did you think I would take care of him? He's your horse, after all."

Kageyama chuckled at the memory.