Forged in Honor (1995) Read Online Free PDF Page A

died in battle, or have grown too old, like me. And the young men don't care about the old ways. They are impatient and want to learn only about the modern weapons."
    "The Chindit has only thirty men in his army?" asked Sarah incredulously.
    "Oh no, Mrs. Brown," Bak said with a smile. "The Chindit has more than six thousand soldiers, but they are in outposts throughout the Ri protecting the mountain passes and roads. The Chindit also has hundreds of spies. He knows everything, Mrs. Brown. He knows beforehand when and where the junta plans to attack, and more important, he knows who are his enemies and who are his true friends."
    Bak looked deeply into Sarah's eyes. "Mrs. Brown, talk to your husband. The Chindit's warning about the Wa was true.
    I will train ten of your parish men as a militia for the protection of the village. Trained men properly armed will persuade the Wa and any bandits not to attack Shaduzup. Without the militia you will be at their mercy."
    Reaching out, Sarah patted the old man's hand. "I will talk to him, Bo Bak, but I can't promise anything."
    Bak held Sarah's gaze as if reading her thoughts before slowly nodding. He then stood and pushed back his chair. "I will be camped on the plateau above the river, Mrs. Brown.
    If the pastor decides to give me men, I will train them there."
    Sarah motioned toward the dormitory. "And Stephen?
    What do you suggest we do?"
    Bak walked down the porch steps toward his pony. Grasping the reins, he looked over his shoulder at Sarah. "Time, Mrs. Brown. It takes time for the wounds of the heart to heal." He put his foot in the stirrup and swung easily up into the saddle. Bowing his head toward Sarah and giving Joshua a wink, he headed his shaggy horse toward the river.
    Joshua stood and took his mother's hand. "I like the Horseman, Mom; he's really neat. And so is Stephen's father.
    You should have seen him gallop his horse toward me. He was like-like a king."
    Sarah squeezed her son's hand as she gazed toward the northern mountains. "He is a king, a warrior-king like David, with great power." Her voice softened to almost a whisper as she looked into her son's eyes. "But right now I believe he wishes he were me, holding his son's hand."

    Chapter 3.
    "Greetings and blessings, Master Horseman," Joshua said as he approached the old man.
    "No!" Bak looked up from the rifle he was cleaning. "You wait until I-acknowledge your presence, and look me in the eyes as you offer the greeting. It is a sign to a Shan that you are sincere and honest. Now back up and do it again."
    After three days of visiting the old man at his camp, Joshua was used to his ways. Joshua backed up several steps before walking forward again. He came to a halt and waited until Bak slowly raised his eyes toward him. "Greetings and blessings, Master Horseman," Joshua said tentatively.
    "Greetings and blessings, little Sao," Bak responded kindly. "How is Stephen today?"
    "He's still sad," Joshua said, "and won't talk to anybody.
    He just sits up there in his room looking out the window."
    "The sadness will pass," Bak said, setting down the rifle.
    "Go back and tell him I need his assistance in the training of the militia."
    "Bu ... but you don't have any men to train!"
    The old man brushed back his moustache with a gnarled finger. "Aren't I teaching you how to ride the ponies?"
    Joshua beamed. "I'm in the militia?"
    "You are until the pastor gives me men. Now go, fetch Stephen. He has mourned enough. It is time for learning."
    Joshua walked into the room without knocking, knowing that Stephen would not answer. The dark-haired boy was at the window looking toward the northern mountains, waiting.
    Joining Stephen, Joshua reached out and patted the other boy's shoulder. "I don't care whether you talk. It's okay.
    Some of the other kids talk too much. I understand why ya don't wanna talk. My dad left me too. 'Course, I never saw my dad; he died in a war somewhere but I sometimes blame him for dyin'. I guess that