The Road of Ingardi
Victor Endersby

Ingardi the King, by restless energy and endless craft, extended his lands and increased his renown all the days of his life. The smoke of many a burning house rose in his wake. This, Ingardi regretted, but felt the end good; the survivors would live under the rule of Ingardi the Just, to their betterment. Jealous was Ingardi of his justice, suffering none other to claim as loyal a service to the people.

It befell that Ingardi made contact with the Wisdom, and for a space, until drawn away by new cares of state, became a learner. On a later date, the Wisdom fell upon evil times; but Ingardi, remembering with gratitude the wider horizon once glimpsed, stood against the priests at the risk of his throne, thus securing the lives of the Companions and the continuance of the work.

In the years of waning forces, Ingardi, sadly weighing all things in a new balance, made a vow. Following the expiration of breath, the vow was renewed in the Buddhi and thus carried to new lives.

First causes produced first effects; woeful was the next birth of Ingardi. He lived in the hut of a cowherd, abused by former oppressed, now become parents; soul-defiled by the evil speech of ancient subjects whose morals had been neglected in the pursuit of power. The swinging blade of the olden time returned as flying hooves, hooked horns, teeth of horses; the scythe blade, the ploughshare, the knives and clubs of feuding neighbors. Clumsy was Ingardi born, by maturity being twisted and scarred from head to foot, remembering a thousand deaths, but no surcease of pain.

Through that lowly place came on occasion royal hunting parties. Many fair faces and fine silks aroused in Ingardi the desires of old, besetting him with nightmares of loss and longing; for Ingardi the cowherd was still stiff with pride and fierce with passion.

In a life Ingardi was purged, having vast capacity for woe; dying thankful to be quit of living. Next life he sought self-elevation, entered the schools, and in time regained among men much of the ancient homage. The way being cleared, the power of the vow manifested. Ingardi once more met with the Wisdom.

Confused was the meeting, for the preceptor was Fidac, the ill-learned, of speech unlettered and manner without courtesy. Listening to the word and not the speaker, heeding the thought and not the word thereof, Ingardi recognized truth; yet remained dubious that noble knowledge should be represented by such a vehicle. He knew not that the history of the Wisdom in that place was of persecution and poverty, from which the polished flee, while the rude stand fast.

Skimming the flavor of Fidac from the surface of the cup, Ingardi drank knowledge, albeit with a mingling of bitterness. He offered service; was accepted by Fidac without thanks or ceremony and with an admonition to diligence. Choking this down, Ingardi served for many years on a rough road. Fidac, absorbed in the work, ruthless to himself, ruthless to others, quick to blame, seldom praising, was a comfortless companion on the Way. Often rasped by the rough tongue of Fidac, often seeing men of substance turn away from inept speech with tolerant smiles, not to return, Ingardi endured unto one day of heavy labor and hard circumstance. Then Fidac spoke sharply to him, pointing out that by untimely speech he had wrought confusion in the minds of certain learners.

Ingardi said naught, seeing at once that it was true; but, unable to endure the face of Fidac for a time, he passed away silently into the solitudes. There, for it was the seventeenth day of the eleventh month, every bruise put on him by Fidac over the years, throbbed afresh. Thus he endured the unendurable, for he saw that his part was the path of Fidac forevermore, and it seemed that Fidac would never change. For many days and nights the pride within him howled its hurt and desolation to the silent pines and indifferent stars.

All things coming to an end, there arrived through much suffering, a clear frozen voidness of feeling. In this the Soul of Ingardi stood aside from the flesh, viewing Ingardi and Fidac alike without favor. It was then seen that Fidac and Ingardi were the two pillars to a strong gate of enlightenment. The common touch of Fidac drew the humble and lowly; the knowledge of Ingardi hinted to the erudite the heights that lay beyond. Ingardi was a call to the lowly to seek a higher path of understanding; Fidac, a warning to the well-favored that loyalty and strength are in low places as in high. Both pillars needed straightening, and many awaited without portal, unto the day that the pillars should be capped with the beam of mutual understanding.

Then saw Ingardi also that the lash of Fidac, laid upon the ancient royal pride, had saved him the delay of yet other lives. Thus the heart of Ingardi entered into peace. So died Ingardi the King; so was born Ingardi the Companion.

Last Update : January 2009
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