Guardian of the God - Return from the Hard Journey - Part 2 Chapter 1 - To The Trader's Market

 Guardian of the God

-

Return from the Hard Journey

(Book 6 of the Guardian of the Spirit Series)

Author: Uehashi Nahoko

Translator: Ainikki the Archivist

 

 Part 2 - The Trap

Chapter 1 - To the Trader's Market

 The night after the terrible wolf attack, the caravan was blessed with suspiciously clear weather. The line of sight was clear for long distances in every direction. The fresh snow deposited by the blizzard made the whole world look like an untrammeled white sheet.

 Naka and the others Asra had saved spent the night in the herders' huts. No one slept well. Most of them had nightmares all night and didn't wake up until well past dawn. Asra and Mina both caught fevers; Marona and the other women of the caravan stayed up all night soothing them with damp forehead cloths and speaking to one another in hushed whispers.

 A wolf had bitten through Balsa's left hand and arm. The wound was deep, painful and needed immediate treatment. Even after Balsa cleaned and wrapped the wound and laid down to sleep, it hurt so badly that she couldn't.

 Usually when she was in a situation like this, her body pressured her to be calm and ignore all pain in favor of resting and getting well quickly, but pain wasn't the only reason Balsa couldn't sleep. There was a cold, hard lump shifting around in her chest; she didn't know where it had come from. She wanted to sleep deeply and without nightmares, but that was impossible: when Balsa closed her eyes, the first thing she saw was Asra's smiling face as she'd killed the wolves. That smile was entirely unlike her usual smile. A feverish light had glittered in her eyes. Balsa eventually fell into a restless sleep and dreamed all night about the warm wind that cut down the wolves and the look on Asra's face. When she woke up the next morning, the sense impressions of her nightmares lingered.

 The herders went out to perform their morning chores at dawn, leaving only Balsa, Naka and the others from the caravan inside the hut. The front door of the hut slammed open, revealing Ren on the other side.

 "Looks like the snow is freezing to ice," Ren said gruffly. His loud voice echoed off the walls.

 Ren crouched down next to Naka, who had just awakened, and said more quietly, "The wheels of the carts might slide, but they won't get buried or stuck in the snow. We might be able to make it to the Trader's Market today if we hurry. I've already told my men that we're leaving this morning. What about you?"

 Naka appeared vaguely nauseated. He considered what Ren had said for a moment, then nodded hesitantly. "I guess we should go, too," he said. His voice was no louder than a whisper. Several of the horses had lost their shoes in the woods or the cattle pens during their confinement. They'd need new ones before Naka's caravan could depart. They'd also have to check the spokes of all the wheels on the carts to make sure they were sound and repair any that were broken. A broken wheel on the icy terrain would be a disaster.

 There was a mountain of work to do. Naka looked at the bleary faces of the people around him. Last night's attack had worn everyone out.

 Ren stood up and said, "All right, we need to get ready. We're all tired, but I know we'll regret it if we miss this chance. Don't worry about your horses and carts. My men will help yours. We'll get your horses reshoed if you check our wheels for us."

 "Thank you," Naka said. "I hope I can repay your generosity one day."

 Ren slapped Naka hard on the shoulder. "I'll hold you to that," he said with a short laugh.

 After Ren left, Naka's people stirred and began their preparations for departure. Balsa checked on Asra and Mina, who were still asleep. Their faces were flushed with fever, but their breathing was deeper and more even than it had been last night, which relieved Balsa somewhat.

 "They'll be fine if they ride in the wagons," Marona said quietly.

 Balsa nodded, then thanked Marona for looking after Asra overnight.

 Marona was clearly exhausted, but she smiled. "Last night was..." She shook her head. "It's hard for me to even think of what happened. I thought we'd all be killed by the wolves. I'm glad we were saved, but I don't understand why or how we were."

 None of Naka's people had spoken about the events of the previous night. None of them wanted to. They'd seen a pale sort of light and felt the wind killing the wolves, but they didn't know that Asra had caused that to happen.

 Balsa considered that fortunate. Everyone's focus in that terrifying moment had been on the wolves, so all they'd really seen was the wolves dying.

 Balsa nodded to Marona and stood up. She left the hut to look for Shisoya, one of Ren's guards. She found him leaning against the wall of another hut while studying a map. When he noticed Balsa, he raised a hand in greeting.

 "I heard about last night. Are you all right?"

 Shisoya was a stoic man with a flat affect; he didn't usually display such concern openly. Balsa regarded him seriously for a moment, then untied the bandage over her left hand and arm. The wound was clean and tightly stitched closed.

 "The wolf didn't bite through any arteries, so I'll be fine. I think I'll be able to move the arm normally in three days. The hand might take a little longer." She paused. "Until then, it looks like I have no choice but to protect the right side of the caravan."

 Shisoya nodded. "I'll protect the left side, then."

 Shisoya dropped his gaze to the map he was holding. "We'll reach the Trader's Market tonight, if we're lucky," he said. "But we might run into problems...call it four days after that."

 Balsa nodded thoughtfully. "The abandoned Shahal mine is a famous gathering place for bandits and thieves. We'll have to pass right through it," Balsa said.

 Many caravans gathered together at the Trader's Market that they were heading for. The market was surrounded by high walls and all the caravan leaders pooled their resources and shared their guards with one another. Because of this, the Trader's Market was generally a safe place for both local and foreign caravans to do business.

 The problem was that after a caravan's business was concluded, they would walk right into the abandoned Shahal mine with their purses fat from purchases made at the market. There was no other way to Toluan—the next large Rotan market city—that didn't go through the mine. The road from the Trader's Market would get narrower and rougher as cliffs rose to either side of it. It was easy for archers to lie in wait on top of the cliffs and pick off caravans from the safety of their high vantage point. Many caravans had been completely wiped out by thieves and bandits that prowled the area around the mine.

 The Shahal clan did send warriors to protect the road leading to the mine, but the mine itself was a maze of uncharted tunnels, so most of the time the bandits managed to hide from or sneak around the Shahal clan's patrols.

 There was a rumor that some of the bandits had paid the head of the Shahal clan to look the other way when caravans were attacked. Others said that members of his family had been bribed, but no one knew for sure if the rumors were true. Caravans often sent gifts to the clan head and his family in order to ensure safe passage for their people and goods. The clan head used the extra money to increase the number of guards and patrols surrounding the mine.

 "I hope we meet up with another caravan before we get there," Shisoya said. "I think the blizzard will make our movements easy to guess for a little while. It's reasonable to expect that we'll be in danger there."

 Shisoya outlined some common scenarios for what might happen to the caravan in the coming days. As Balsa listened to him and added her own thoughts and observations, the lingering fear from her nightmares faded away.

  

F

  

 Naka and Ren's caravans didn't come within sight of the high walls of the Trader's Market until very late that night. They unpacked their things in comfortable lodgings and took advantage of hot water piped in to the inn to take baths. Everyone worked in exhausted but companionable silence as they prepared a meal.

 There was no need for guards at the Trader's Market. Balsa, Shisoya and the other guards had two full days of rest while Naka and Ren met up with the other caravan leaders and merchants to make purchases and trade. There was a barracks for caravan guards to use along one of the market's high outer walls. Ordinarily Balsa would have chosen to stay there, but Asra's fever refused to break and she was still weak enough to need carrying. Balsa wound up renting a room for the two of them at an inn with two hard beds and a table. It was spare as rooms went, but there were a few touches to make it more comfortable and homey; the space between the beds was covered with a finely woven rug and a small fireplace was built into the floor.

 Asra opened her eyes a little when Balsa laid her out on one of the beds, but she quickly closed them again. The room was cold. Even after Balsa wrapped her in warm blankets, Asra didn't stop shivering.

 "I'm going to light a fire right now, so just hold on a little longer," Balsa said. Asra didn't seem to hear her.

 There were live coals inside the fireplace. Balsa stirred them up and added firewood. She held her hands out over the fire and stared into the dancing flames. She'd stayed at this same inn several times before when she'd been a child. She'd slept in the same bed Asra was sleeping in now. Jiguro had lit the fires then and wrapped her in blankets so she wouldn't be cold.

 Balsa checked that smoke from the fire was traveling up the room's narrow chimney, then stretched herself out comfortably on the room's other bed. In the quiet stillness of the night, she heard a high sound like a whistle; she wondered if there was someone outside the inn. The whistling became a sad and constant sound; eventually, Balsa fell asleep listening to it.

 Balsa awoke a little before dawn. She heard Asra crying in her sleep in the bed next to hers. Asra called out over and over, "Mom! Mom! Please don't kill my mom!"

 She was clearly having an incredibly vivid nightmare. Her body was twisted and curled in on itself. Balsa leaned down over her and wiped the sweat from her forehead.

 "Sh, you're all right. You're having a bad dream. You can wake up now, Asra."

 Asra didn't open her eyes, but she took a deep breath and unclenched her fists. She turned her face toward the pillow and stopped crying.

 Balsa could see the dim light of dawn through the room's small westward-facing window. Asra's breathing steadied and evened out as Balsa watched the sun come up. She looked down at Asra's sleeping face, which was half-covered in shadow. She must have dreamed about her mother's execution.

 Balsa had heard about the Shintadan massacre from Sufar and Tanda. Sufar had said that the massacre's cause or source had been an executed woman. Balsa could easily imagine how the people in Shintadan prison fortress had died. She could almost feel the unnatural warm wind and see the piercingly sharp fangs cutting people down. The power to kill all those people had come from Asra, not her mother. Asra had probably unleashed the power of the god the instant her mother died.

 A sensation of cold dread came over Balsa. She understood now why Sufar wanted to kill Asra. The thing inside her was terrifying and dangerous.

 Asra was crying again. Tears streamed into her open mouth as she slept. She appeared completely innocent and entirely too young to be coping with problems of this scale.

 Balsa felt a lump in her throat. She swallowed it down, then gritted her teeth. A lot of people believed in the power of gods. Even if Balsa accepted that the thing inside Asra was a god, why would a god like that choose a young girl like Asra for such a horrifying destiny?

 Balsa crossed the room to her own bed and sat down. She put the shaft of her spear between her knees and rested her forehead against it for reassurance. She closed her eyes.

 Saving this girl's life won't be enough. She needs more.

 Balsa stayed still and did not move until bright morning sunlight streamed in through the room's small window.

  

  

 Asra didn't wake up that morning, but Balsa wasn't too worried. She remembered that Asra had slept a lot after she'd used her terrible power on slave merchants from Sangal that wanted to sell her and her brother. She'd probably wake up on her own in a day or so.

  

 Balsa went to the inn's kitchen and dining area to buy fresh milk and wheat porridge. She separated out portions for herself and Asra on a tray, then returned to their room.

 Balsa heard voices on the other side of the room's door. She entered the room to find Mina sitting next to Asra on her bed. Asra was awake and sitting up . Mina waved at Balsa.

 "So you're up," Balsa said. "How do you feel?"

 Asra gave her a sleepy grin. "I feel fine. Just really tired."

 "That's probably because of the fever," Mina said. "I felt the same way when I woke up." She spoke in precise and deliberate Rotan in a voice that sounded very like her mother's.

 Mina's eyes fell on the tray Balsa was carrying. "Ah! Is that Asra's breakfast?"

 "Yes. Did you eat already, Mina?"

 "Yeah, I ate." Mina lifted the lid over Asra's bowl of porridge and looked inside. "Huh? This doesn't have any sakkau in it." Sakkau was extracted from dried fruit to add sweetness to foods. "They put it in mine," Mina said.

 Balsa laughed. "You're probably staying at a more expensive inn. They must serve better food there."

 "Hm. If they give us anything sweet at lunch, I'll bring some for Asra."

 Asra patted Mina on the head. "Thanks, Mina. I appreciate it."

 Mina giggled, then hugged Asra. "The wolves were so scary! Mom got so mad at me for running off. She said we were lucky not to be eaten! Who saved us? I didn't see anything. Someone must have killed the wolves for us, right? Asra, did you see anything?"

 Asra pulled back from Mina a little so that she could look at her. "I'm sure a god must have saved us. You prayed with all your might to save your dad, so I think a god must have answered your prayers."

 Asra looked over at Balsa and smiled.

 Balsa didn't smile back. Asra called the terrifying thing inside her a god. Balsa had trouble seeing Asra as the kind-hearted girl she knew and as a mass murderer that had killed dozens of people with no visible remorse.

 Balsa still ached to her soul whenever she thought about the people that had been killed to preserve her own life. The memory of blood-soaked battlefields where she'd killed so many made her wince. She didn't think any amount of time would heal the scars on her soul.

 Balsa had a sudden flash of insight: Asra created separation between herself and the god so that she wouldn't experience guilt. Asra prayed to the god; the god answered her prayers. Asra wasn't the one who killed people: the god was.

 Asra's smile was sweet and genuine. She seemed entirely at peace with herself. The god had only been able to kill the wolves and the people at Shintadan because of Asra's express invitation, but she didn't seem to think of herself as the cause of their deaths. Something within Asra had changed after killing the wolves; she wasn't shy or fearful any longer. Maybe she wasn't afraid of anything anymore. She could probably save her brother easily; perhaps that thought eased her mind.

 Balsa felt a chill go through her entire body. She felt the same way now as she had when she'd watched Asra slaughter the wolves with a smile on her face. Balsa couldn't allow Asra to invite the god to use her ever again. Asra would kill more people if she invited the god into herself again. It would be too late to take back the damage if that happened; there was no way to un-kill or un-injure someone after the fact. Regret wouldn't help anything, either. The suffering Asra would cause if she called on the god again would follow her for the rest of her life.

 When you point your spear at someone, you're also pointing it at your own soul.

 Jiguro had told her this after almost every battle they'd fought together. Balsa breathed it out silently whenever she killed a person. She could feel their deaths in her hands and in her weapon. She remembered looking down at a man she'd just killed; his mouth had been a hideously ugly bloody gash. She'd turned around, and then...

 Balsa reminded herself that Asra was still young. She understood only that the god could answer her prayers and save her brother. She didn't understand fully what she'd done yet, but she would someday. She would have to face the fact that the god's desire to rip out throats and her own desire to kill to save herself were one and the same.

 I can't let her stain her hands with any more blood.

 Balsa was sure that Asra didn't intend to live her life while causing deliberate harm to others. Balsa remembered Jiguro's face when he'd first given her the spear that he'd made for her. His eyes had been full of a profound sadness that she hadn't truly understood until now. Jiguro had known that Balsa would kill people in the future. Balsa hadn't foreseen that kind of life for herself; she hadn't had any idea. She'd been overjoyed at being given such a precious gift as a spear made by Jiguro. Even though she'd done plenty of things with that spear to cause herself pain and regret, she couldn't imagine her life without it.

 The beast of rage inside me is hungrier than any wolf.

 Balsa did her best to keep herself under control at all times, but something within her always wanted to fight. The beast twisted and writhed inside her, longing to be released.

 But Asra had no love for the spear or for fighting. She loved clothes that smelled like flowers. Her desires weren't as ugly or as violent as Balsa's—not yet. If Balsa could find some way to separate Asra from the god, she might still get to live a happy and peaceful life. Asra didn't have to hurt anyone else.

 "Asra, I'm going to the market," Mina said. "Come with me! Please?"

 Mina's cheerful voice snapped Balsa out of her thoughts. Asra looked like she really wanted to go with Mina, but she shook her head. It would be bad for her to go out in public with so many people around. Someone might recognize her.

 "I'd like to, but I still feel so weak..."

 "Hm. Well, sleep a little bit and then maybe we can go out later. The market is full of all kinds of interesting stuff."

 Asra looked up at Balsa hopefully.

 "I'll take you to the market later," she said. "I have some errands to take care of there."

 Asra's face lit up. Mina waved at her with an energy that seemed to contradict her recent fever, then left the room.

 "Are we really going to the market later?" Asra asked. "Is it safe?"

 "This is a Trader's Market, so there are more foreigners here than there are Rotans, at least at this time of year. There'll be Tal trappers selling furs as well. I don't think we'll attract too much attention."

 "But what if Sufar's there?"

 "He already knows where we're going. There'd be no point in following us while we're here. In fact, it might be useful to us if Sufar or one of his spies showed up. We could ask them what they're planning."

 Balsa sat down on her bed and showed Asra how to eat the wheat porridge without spilling any on herself. Asra didn't seem hungry; she pulled a face while lifting the first bite of porridge into her mouth. Then she swallowed and realized the porridge tasted better than she'd thought it would; she started eating rapidly and greedily.

 Balsa's emotions briefly overwhelmed her again. These two days of rest were precious; she couldn't waste them. She needed to find out what Sufar had planned for them in Jitan. She was glad to be in the Trader's Market. Both goods and information were readily available here.

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