Lhakpa, the old man who sat meditating by the stool, gradually stirred to consciousness. His eyes opened, and he slowly turned his head toward Shan then lifted the steaming mug with an appreciative nod. “Spring’s slow to come in the high country,” he observed. “But I’ll start climbing in a few days.”

“I found an extra blanket you can take,” Shan offered, “and I’ll give you as much barley as you can carry.”

Lhakpa had appeared weeks earlier, sleeping in unused stables after Shan had explained that he could not camp beside the chorten in the town square. Several of the Chinese residents, represented by their self-styled Committee of Leading Citizens, had complained that the homeless man was an affront to socialist society, as if Lhakpa had chosen not to have a permanent home as a political protest. More than one had asked if Shan had checked his residency permit. Like the Tibetans who lived in the town, Shan knew Lhakpa had no such permit, and several of them had started sharing provisions with him that they could ill afford to lose. After finding the old man sitting against a tree one morning, shivering and covered with snow, his only source of warmth the goat in his lap, Shan had found the solution. He had arrested Lhakpa, satisfying the committee, and kept him in a warm, dry, and unlocked cell for the remainder of the winter. Shan had not anticipated, however, the devotion of the goat that followed Lhakpa everywhere. “She has to stay outside, my friend,” he said now.

A low, dry laugh escaped Lhakpa’s throat. “I wish you could have met my niece Tara, Shan. Sharp as a blade, and quite beautiful. Her eyes were deep pools of intelligence and so full of life. For years she avoided those who tried to take her away to one of those boarding schools, but they finally caught her when she was fifteen. I made her promise she would do her best, and they said she showed great promise, was going to be nominated to attend one of the universities in the east.”

Shan leaned closer. This was the most Lhakpa had spoken about the goat to Shan. The Tibetan was a man of many secrets, but that was true of every wanderer in Tibet, and Shan was loath to pry. Such Tibetans had many reasons not to trust law enforcement officials.