In the seat beside Chiun, Remo shifted uneasily. His teacher's words were a reminder of something he didn't want to think about right now.
If Chiun sensed his pupil's discomfort, he didn't show it. He continued with his story.
"Even though Shiko was in but the waning days of his first full century and still technically true claimant of the title Master, his health was not as it had once been. His infirmity was not the result of age alone," Chiun quickly pointed out, "but was due to an encounter several years before with a cult of fireworshiping Ghebers in Persia."
"Gabors?" Remo asked. "Like Zsa Zsa and Eva?"
Chiun's papery lips pursed. "There are medications, Remo, for children with wandering minds. I will ask Emperor Smith to write you a prescription." Not desiring another intrusion, he continued. "The Ghebers were a once-powerful sect of Zoroastrians, thought extinct by Sinanju."
This triggered something from far back in Remo's memory. "Those Zeroequestrians were astrologers, weren't they?" he asked. "I remember Sister Irene saying that that's what the three Wise Men were way back in grade-school religion class."
Chiun shook his head impatiently. "As usual the carpenter's maidens have dropped in a single fact to float in the pool of their fictions. Yes, some were that. Others were much, much more. And that they were Zoroastrians is irrelevant. That they were from Persia is what matters." He continued his story. "In the sunset of his life Master Shiko was summoned to perform a minor service for a Persian emir. The emir wished the Master to remove a band of cutthroats that was terrorizing the lowlands of his kingdom.
"Now, under ordinary circumstances, though still Reigning Master, Shiko would have remained in Sinanju to mend the nets and watch the children play, allowing his pupil, whose name was Hya-Tee, to go in his stead. However, since Persia was the place where he had met great hardship, Shiko did not wish to risk endangering his pupil so early in his life, Hya-Tee having seen a mere forty-five summers. And so in his age and infirmity did Master Shiko take up his bundle and travel to the distant land of the Persian emirs."
Remo shook his head. "If Shiko was in such crummy shape, shouldn't Hya-Tee have insisted that he go instead?"
"There are Apprentice Reigning Masters and there are Reigning Masters," Chiun replied evenly. "In your experience, Remo, which one has the last word?"
At this Remo couldn't argue.
Satisfied, Chiun resumed his tale. "Now, it should be known that, although in failing health by Sinanju standards, Shiko was still better than any mere man. His bones were old, his sight was poor and some have said that his mind was beginning to precede his body into the Void, yet all of this mattered not when it came to the task he was to perform. In Persia he did impress the court of this lesser emir with his displays of speed and skill. And this was as it should be, for in his youth Shiko was as able as any Master who had come before, save only the greatest of the line. Verily did Shiko slay the murderous highwayman and, receiving payment in full, did he begin the long trek overland back to Sinanju.
"It was during his journey home that Master Shiko did make a most grave mistake. Flush with his success and the accolades he had received at court, Shiko did see himself for what he once was. In the clouding mind that sometimes comes with the sicknesses of age he once more became the man of his youth. Rather than take the longer, safer path that he had used for his earlier journey to Persia, he did take the less certain route he had employed several times as a young man.
"And lo did Shiko abandon the wisdom of age and travel did he up the treacherous route through the Himalayas. His path did bring him to Nepal and past the rude buildings that would one day rise up to become what is now the famed Tengpoche Monastery, which sits in the shadow of Chomolunga, the highest mountain in all the world."
In spite of himself, Remo had found that he was being drawn into the story. But at this, he had to interrupt.
"Wait," he said. "If it's in the Himalayas, that's gotta be Mount Everest, not Chumbawumba."
Chiun raised an annoyed eyebrow. "The civilized half of the world doesn't recognize that new name," he said frostily.
"Okay, but it is Mount Everest we're talking about?" Remo asked. "I just want to be clear."
"I am talking about Chomolunga," Chiun sniffed. "What filters through to your brain is of no consequence to me."
"Okay," Remo said, satisfied that they were indeed talking about Mount Everest. He settled back down.
Chiun didn't even have a chance to pull in another breath before Remo was interrupting again.
"Wait a sec, I thought K2 was tallest now."
Chiun's face puckered. "What is that?"
"A mountain. I think it's in India somewhere."
"If it is in India, then that ugly thing is not its true name. No doubt the white who first saw it laid claim to it and replaced the good Indian name with that K9 appellation."
"K9's a dog, Little Father," Remo said. "But you're right. The Indians wouldn't have named it after something that'd be confused with a dog. Cow's more their speed." His face brightened. "Say, you know if there's a Mount Bossie anywhere in India?"
"No," Chiun said dryly. "Are you quite finished?"
"Yeah, I'm done," Remo nodded.
The Korean's narrowed eyes seemed not to believe his pupil. Nonetheless, he forged ahead.
"Now, it was here in the shadow of Chomolunga where Master Shiko did come upon a gathering of Sherpa monks. They had heard that the Master of Sinanju was approaching their pathetic excuse for a monastery and had come out to greet him. And on the slippery path to Kathmandu, they did beg him stop. Surrounded were these monks by men of the new squalid Sherpa settlements, and the look of fright was full on all their ugly flat Sherpa faces. However, Shiko could see only the faces of those nearest, for his eyes were weak by now. But heard he the trembling fear in their voices.
"And these monks did speak in quavering voices, and they did tell of a terrible beast that had been attacking their settlements. They claimed that this creature did live in the forested regions near the snow line and did only venture down to prey on them. The beast was of great size with fearsome large hands and feet. The color of snow was this terrible creature, and was thus nearly invisible to the eye until it was too late. Many had died, they said.
"'Why does this beast attack you, O quivering Sherpas?'" the aged Master Shiko did ask.
"'He fears our nearness, great Master of Sinanju,' the monks did reply. 'For until our arrival these mountains were his home and his alone. At unsuspecting moments he does leap from concealment, casting our people from the mountainside to the rocks of the ravines far below. We fear he will kill us all, thus reclaiming that which he sees as his.'"
At this, Remo broke in once more. "You're saying they were new to the mountain, right?" he asked.
"That is correct," Chiun replied.
"Hmm," Remo said. "Maybe there was no abominable snowman," he suggested. "Maybe they were just slipping on the snow and falling over the side of the mountain."
In an earlier day Chiun would have been annoyed at yet another interruption. However, this time a thin smile slithered across the old man's parchment lips.
"That is partly true," he admitted, nodding wisely. "These first Sherpas had only recently migrated from the eastern Tibetan province of Khams to settle in this mountainous region. If Shiko's mind was as clear as that of the young Master he was pretending to be, he would have realized that these clumsy clods were not used to living on mountains and were merely slipping and cracking open their own thick Sherpa heads. But, alas, this did not occur to Master Shiko. He did have mind enough to know, however, that Sinanju had met many things known to quail the human heart. Some have been real-like dragons, minotaurs and gorgons."