As the story progresses, Artuk exhibits additional skills that begin to shroud him in mystery. Unknown to Tando, he is able to speak and interpret the Tibetan language, and has knowledge of Tibetan customs and religious practices. These qualities make him very useful to the Tibetan general, Rana Tenpai. Artuk is sworn to Rana’s service and eventually attains the rank of Khur Kan leader in the Tibetan cavalry. He becomes embroiled in the conflict between Rana and other hostile Tibetan clan leaders, where he demonstrates a certain heroic quality and loyalty. The mystery around him deepens when his apparent knowledge of Tando’s map, and the secret it points to, raise additional questions in the reader’s mind. Who is this man?

EXCERPT - From Chapter 37 - Sky Burial

Artuk touched his forehead to the ground, then rose, looking up at the dust ridden skies, straining up to catch a glimpse of blue there. Then he spoke, his voice halting at first, but gathering strength as the memories returned to him, brightening his mind with a vision. “From Great Tengri, the sky, we are come to this place to walk the Narrow Path. For were not the old ones, in the time of the Yarlung come down from the sky itself? Did they not return to the heavens by climbing the sky rope until it was cut by Dri gum btsanpo? So now men must return by other means, and so these rites were set down long ago. Let all present see the way, and know by these cuts, the path of their own return.”

 He lowered his head, and drew out a long knife, setting it before him on his knees, and bowing to the blade. Omu was watching him very carefully, as were both Rana and Keemah. They were all stunned to see how this man could have such knowledge and understanding of the old ways and the rituals of the sky funeral. The Wend spoke again, his voice low and solemn.

 “So, the way is prepared by many means. From the land of Olmo Lun-gring came the unborn, the undiminishing and the prophetic word first spoken by Tonpa Shenrab. From the place that holds a third of all that is and yet may be, and from the high mount of Yung-drung, spring four rivers flowing each to the four directions. South lies the Barpo Sogye, where Tonpa Shenrab was born, West lies his palace where the wives and children lived, East lies the temple of Shampo Lathse, where his word was first heard, and North the waters flow that reach the city of my kinfolk in Khotan, where they give life, even to the emptiness of this desert.”

 Now Omu’s face grew grave and solemn. He looked at the stranger with new eyes. He speaks of the Bön, he thought! How can he know the ancient ways? Is this man a priest? A lama that Rana has taken under his wing? Or is he a sorcerer? Could it be that he did call down the winds upon us? But why? Listen to the sadness in his voice.

“And so the Bön hold out nine ways, and one is the way of returning.” Artuk raised his arms to the sky, gazing up again, hopeful, but yet seeing only the emptiness of hazy blue above. “Other beliefs hold to this as well,” he said. “For did not Buddha say that all life is a dream? While we live, we walk the Narrow Path, and see but darkly. Now these men are called to the dream of the bardo. May they find there a lamp that illuminates their way. It is given to us to speed them as they go, and to speak to them, so that they might hear us now, and better understand the visions that come to them. But first, we must know they are empty…”

  He stood up and approached the small effigy of the Lü that had been set upon the brow of the hill, facing the desert. It was a simple shrine, but Artuk approached it with reverence, chanting audibly and gesturing at the sky as he did so. As if on cue Omu began to shout at the skies as well, and the two Khur Kan leaders that held the prayer flags followed in turn. Only Rana and Keemah remained silent, a fact that did not go unnoticed by Omu, though he tucked it away within him, noting that he would have his just vengeance on another day. It was strange, he thought, to suddenly feel more kinship with this commoner and stranger, than he did with one of his own people. But he put that thought aside.

 Artuk was calling on demons and spirits to lure them into the shrine of the Lü, so they would not find the three bodies, and leave them pure. It was thought that the Lü would trap and hold the hungry ghosts and spirits that lusted after the dead. When enough time had passed he fetched a brand from the fire pit, and set the Lü aflame, watching it carefully as the thick black smoke billowed up on the wind, and casting on more of the purifying herbs and fats to sweeten the smoke, and cleanse it of any evil. Then he returned to his place before the three men and nodded to the funeral detail.

 “I sense no evil here,” he said. “Unless it is brought here by any who now stand in the circle of six. If that is so, I bid them to cast it away as we make this offering.” He turned and looked briefly at each of the men in the circle. Then he rose and took up the long glistening blade, walking first to Omu, and presenting him the haft with a reverent bow.

 Omu breathed in deeply, waiting for the Wend to rise and extend the blade to him. Then, to the amazement of both Rana and Keemah, he proffered a bow to Artuk in return, and took the blade. The Wend stood aside, and Omu walked slowly to the three men. He signaled to the waiting attendants that the bodies were to be laid bare, and the men slowly unwrapped the white cloths until the men lay naked. Omu took the blade and scored each of the three men on the right leg, murmuring in a low voice. “So they marched well for the house of Seng Tu. Strong legs carried them here, but greater strength has taken them to another place. May they find there a lamp that guides their way.”