Read Online Batman 5 - Batman Begins by Dennis O'Neil - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Dennis O'Neil
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alertness rather than reasoned thought, which was sometimes slow and not always reliable.
His training, of both mind and body, was of a kind he could not have imagined possible, and he reveled in it. He slept, with a dozen others, on a thin futon placed on the floor of a chamber below the monastery’s main hall; he knew that there were other sleeping chambers both inside the monastery and in outbuildings.
The monastery itself was divided into three tiers. The bottom, where Bruce slept, was barracks-style living quarters, food storage facilities, a kitchen, and a dining area consisting of several long, uncovered tables with backless benches along either side. The ground floor was almost completely occupied by the huge main hall, where Bruce had first entered, and included Rā’s al Ghūl’s throne, which was seldom in use. At its rear were two locked doors—a storage area of some kind, Bruce guessed. Once, he spotted a line of workers carrying crates that bore red warning signs in four languages into one of the forbidden chambers: explosives. Bruce wondered what use they might possibly be put to.
The top floor of the monastery was, on three sides, a mezzanine, with exits to the balcony that overlooked the glacier. The fourth side was another forbidden area: the living quarters of Rā’s al Ghūl and Ducard. There were several outbuildings that, Bruce concluded, were for storage.
Almost every day Bruce arose before dawn, wakened by the striking of a gong— almost, because sometimes he and his mates were not roused until the sun was high above the neighboring peaks. No explanation for the delay was ever given. After an hour’s running along the ridge on which the buildings stood, often through dense snow and icy winds, he ate the first of two daily meals, usually vegetables and rice, or a grain Bruce could not identify. To drink, there was a small cup of tea.
At irregular intervals, the morning run was canceled and Bruce and his mates picked their way down the trail to the hamlet Bruce had passed through on his way to the monastery. There, they found stacks of boxes and sacks: supplies. They each lifted something and, sliding and stumbling, struggled back up the mountain. Once, Bruce saw the little boy he had spoken to, peeking around the corner of a hut. At other times, during the warmer summer months, he and his mates were put to work in vegetable gardens near the hamlet.
“It is important that you feel a connection to what sustains you,” Ducard once explained.
The regimen was not unlike what he knew of how religious communities and, for that matter, military boot camps operated. After breakfast, the group disbanded and each of the trainees did something unique to himself. In Bruce’s case, this was what he later realized were exercises and techniques designed to increase his flexibility and litheness. He did yoga stretches and trained on gymnast’s gear: rings, rails, parallel bars, and vaulting horses. Gradually, his bulky muscles grew smaller and sleeker and he was able to stretch and bend and twist his limbs in ways he would have once considered impossible, if not freakish.
Then, for several months, he did very little that was physically demanding. Ducard would give him puzzles, or using cards, flash a random series of numbers and shapes in front of his eyes and demand he reproduce them on paper. Or ask him to work arithmetic problems mentally. Or have him sit in certain positions for hours, or just stand alone in a dark room or on the glacier. He was told that he was in the process of learning what he already knew and that this was not a conundrum, just a simple fact—one of the few times any explanation of any kind was offered.
When Bruce resumed his physical training, he was swifter and stronger than ever.
FROM THE JOURNALS OF RĀ’S AL GHŪL
Bruce Wayne apparently thinks that his training here is akin to the training he would receive at a military or religious installation. Such is his
His training, of both mind and body, was of a kind he could not have imagined possible, and he reveled in it. He slept, with a dozen others, on a thin futon placed on the floor of a chamber below the monastery’s main hall; he knew that there were other sleeping chambers both inside the monastery and in outbuildings.
The monastery itself was divided into three tiers. The bottom, where Bruce slept, was barracks-style living quarters, food storage facilities, a kitchen, and a dining area consisting of several long, uncovered tables with backless benches along either side. The ground floor was almost completely occupied by the huge main hall, where Bruce had first entered, and included Rā’s al Ghūl’s throne, which was seldom in use. At its rear were two locked doors—a storage area of some kind, Bruce guessed. Once, he spotted a line of workers carrying crates that bore red warning signs in four languages into one of the forbidden chambers: explosives. Bruce wondered what use they might possibly be put to.
The top floor of the monastery was, on three sides, a mezzanine, with exits to the balcony that overlooked the glacier. The fourth side was another forbidden area: the living quarters of Rā’s al Ghūl and Ducard. There were several outbuildings that, Bruce concluded, were for storage.
Almost every day Bruce arose before dawn, wakened by the striking of a gong— almost, because sometimes he and his mates were not roused until the sun was high above the neighboring peaks. No explanation for the delay was ever given. After an hour’s running along the ridge on which the buildings stood, often through dense snow and icy winds, he ate the first of two daily meals, usually vegetables and rice, or a grain Bruce could not identify. To drink, there was a small cup of tea.
At irregular intervals, the morning run was canceled and Bruce and his mates picked their way down the trail to the hamlet Bruce had passed through on his way to the monastery. There, they found stacks of boxes and sacks: supplies. They each lifted something and, sliding and stumbling, struggled back up the mountain. Once, Bruce saw the little boy he had spoken to, peeking around the corner of a hut. At other times, during the warmer summer months, he and his mates were put to work in vegetable gardens near the hamlet.
“It is important that you feel a connection to what sustains you,” Ducard once explained.
The regimen was not unlike what he knew of how religious communities and, for that matter, military boot camps operated. After breakfast, the group disbanded and each of the trainees did something unique to himself. In Bruce’s case, this was what he later realized were exercises and techniques designed to increase his flexibility and litheness. He did yoga stretches and trained on gymnast’s gear: rings, rails, parallel bars, and vaulting horses. Gradually, his bulky muscles grew smaller and sleeker and he was able to stretch and bend and twist his limbs in ways he would have once considered impossible, if not freakish.
Then, for several months, he did very little that was physically demanding. Ducard would give him puzzles, or using cards, flash a random series of numbers and shapes in front of his eyes and demand he reproduce them on paper. Or ask him to work arithmetic problems mentally. Or have him sit in certain positions for hours, or just stand alone in a dark room or on the glacier. He was told that he was in the process of learning what he already knew and that this was not a conundrum, just a simple fact—one of the few times any explanation of any kind was offered.
When Bruce resumed his physical training, he was swifter and stronger than ever.
FROM THE JOURNALS OF RĀ’S AL GHŪL
Bruce Wayne apparently thinks that his training here is akin to the training he would receive at a military or religious installation. Such is his
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