Guardian of the God - Return from the Hard Journey - Part 2 Chapter 3 - Like the Surface of a Lake in Winter

  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 3 - Like the Surface of a Lake in Winter

 

    After dinner, Balsa went to talk to Naka about the guard that would replace her in the caravan.

    “I’m not sure how satisfied I’ll be with a replacement,” Naka grumbled, “but it can’t be helped. Isn’t it too late in the day to settle that now?”

    Balsa brushed aside Naka’s complaints and led him to meet the new guard. When Naka saw Sahal, his mood noticeably improved. He was young and obviously strong, with bright eyes and a pleasant attitude. Tajiru’s recommendation had not steered Balsa wrong.

     Balsa passed a portion of her payment back to Naka; she’d promised to follow him to Toluan, which was still a few days away.

    Naka looked down at the money in his hand with a complicated expression. “You’re very honest, and a great guard. I wish you could travel with us the rest of the way. Mina’s going to miss Asra.”

    Naka faced Sahal and started talking with him about where the caravan was headed. Meeting people, traveling with them and parting with them were everyday occurrences for a caravan owner. Such a brief farewell was perfectly customary.

    When Balsa returned to the inn where she and Asra were staying, she found Asra bundled up in her blankets, fast asleep. Balsa sat down on her bed, removed the scabbard from her spear point and inspected it. There was a good forge nearby that had a whetstone. The light reflecting off the blade was so bright that it hurt to look at.

    They were leaving tomorrow morning. Balsa decided to travel behind some of the departing caravans for a while. A lot of side roads branched off of the main highway into the mountains; Balsa wanted to find a way to Jitan that would be difficult for people riding horses or carrying luggage to travel. There were probably people in the Trader’s Market that supported their enemies; those people might be watching her and Asra right now. Balsa considered it possible and even likely that she and Asra would be observed when they left the city, but even if Sufar and their other pursuers learned which caravan they were traveling behind, no one knew every possible path through the mountains. A lot of those paths weren’t even marked on maps. Balsa wanted to make them as hard to follow as possible.

    Balsa heard footsteps echoing on the stone floor outside the room’s door.

    “Hello?” a woman asked. “If there’s someone in there, there’s a person here who wants to see you.”

    Balsa listened for signs that the woman had company, but she seemed to be alone on the other side of the door. Balsa tightened her grip on her spear and opened the door. “Who wants to see me?” she asked.

    The woman frowned. “She didn’t give me her name. She’s a Tal woman.”

    Balsa blinked; she hadn’t expected that answer. She heard Asra sit up in bed behind her; she must have awakened when Balsa had opened the door.

    “Do you want me to send them away?” the woman at the door asked.

    “No, it’s fine,” Balsa said. “Bring her here. I’ll talk to her.”

    The woman nodded and withdrew. She came back a few minutes later, leading another woman whose face was almost entirely hidden by her hood. The visitor made no move to pull back her hood until the inn worker that had led her to the room left and shut the door.

    The woman’s movements were delicate and graceful as she removed her hood. She was very young and stunningly beautiful. “Thank you for meeting me,” she said quietly. “My name is Ianu. Please forgive me for coming to see you so late at night.”

    Balsa nodded slowly. “Why are you here?”

    Ianu’s eyes flicked to Asra. “I was in the Trader’s Market this morning, selling furs with my friends and family. When I saw you pass by my stall, my heart almost stopped. Asra? It’s you, isn’t it?”

    Asra looked at Ianu with an expression of genuine surprise.

    “Do you remember me?” Ianu asked. “We’ve met before. Your mother brought you to one of our meetings.”

    Asra felt her heart in her throat. She stared at Ianu, transfixed, and realized that she had seen her before--but only once. Her mother had brought her to a small hut where the Ramau held their secret meetings. Ianu had been there.

    “Um, aren’t you one of the Ramau?” Asra asked.

    Ianu nodded, then wrapped Asra in a gentle hug. Her arms were shaking. Tears fell from the corners of her eyes. “Blessed goddess Afal, thank you for keeping Asra safe!” Ianu sucked in a harsh breath and wept openly with her arms around Asra.

    When Asra’s face rubbed against the pocket where Ianu kept incense used in temple prayers, she coughed and tried to pull her face away. Suddenly, she saw the image of her mother directly in front of her--hugging her, just like Ianu was. The smell of the incense faded and was replaced by the good clean smell of her mother’s hair and skin.

    Tears welled up in Asra’s eyes, but her arms remained limply at her sides. Ianu wasn’t her mom. Ianu had known her mom, but that wasn’t the same.

    Ianu let go of Asra and looked up at Balsa. “You must have saved her,” she said. “Thank you so much for saving her life.”

    Balsa regarded Ianu uncertainly. She dismissed her thanks with a wave of her hand. “You should sit,” Balsa said. “Tell me how you know Asra.”

    Ianu’s cheeks reddened.”Yes, I’m sorry. I owe you an explanation.” Balsa invited her to sit on her bed; Ianu sat. After Balsa sat next to Asra on the other bed, Ianu talked about her life as one of the Ramau. The Ramau lived in the Shan forest, which was sacred to the Tal people. Asra’s family had lived closer to them than anyone else. Ramau were sent to an enclave inside the forest called Sau when they were fourteen years old. They would live there in service to the Tal Kumada priests for the rest of their lives.

    Ianu told Balsa that Ramau could see Noyuk, the world of the Tal gods. They were apprenticed to the Tal Kumada and would inherit their position once they were old enough. Asra’s mother Torisha hadn’t been able to see Noyuk at all, but she’d still come to visit the Ramau often to learn about the gods.

    “I feel so sorry for Torisha. She had such a pure heart. For her to die in such a cruel way is...” Ianu shook her head sadly. “She was too good for this world.” Ianu stared at the floor. Her fists balled up in Balsa’s blankets.

    Ianu glanced up at Balsa. “You’re from Kanbal, aren’t you?”

    Balsa nodded.

    “Then you may not have the cultural context to understand everything that’s happened,” she said. “We Tal people have strong faith in our gods. They protect us. I don’t think you know what happened to Torisha, so I’ll try to explain as best I can.” Ianu gave Balsa a brief summary of the history of Rotarbal. Asra already knew all about it because her mother had told her the same story over and over again. She could almost hear her mother’s voice underneath Ianu’s as she listened to the story again.

    Rotarbal had been a peaceful, united nation led by Sada Talhamaya. Hearing her name again sent goosebumps up Asra’s spine. A memory rose up in her mind’s eye of the figure of a woman laid out on a stone slab. Her chest had glowed with soft, silvery light.

    When Ianu reached the part of the story where Sada Talhamaya was killed by Kiran, Balsa leaned forward. “So...that’s how the Kashal wound up working for the royal family, right?”

    Ianu nodded. “Both the Kashal and the Tal people originally served Sada Talhamaya. But the Kashal supported the first king of Rota and his clan, and they serve as spies for the royal family even now. They also watch over the Tal people to ensure that we do not break our ancient promises.” 

    Ianu took a deep breath. “One night, Torisha brought Asra to see us. She said that the sacred river was flowing into our world from Noyuk. She was adamant. I almost thought she’d gone mad. She told us we had to go to the grave of Sada Talhamaya and invite the god into ourselves.

    “The other Ramau and I talked with her until well past midnight. We had our doubts about what she was saying; she wasn’t able to see Noyuk at all. Had Asra really seen the river flowing? And even if the river truly was flowing again, we had no way of knowing if it was even possible for one of us to unite with the god.”

    Ianu fixed her eyes on Asra and said quietly, “We thought your mother’s conviction and the strength of her beliefs was a sign of the gods’ favor. Ultimately, we decided to go to the temple of Talhamaya to pray. We never thought Torisha would go so deeply into the temple as Sada Talhamaya’s grave. It’s forbidden for any of us to ever go there.” Ianu related how Torisha had been caught by the Tal Kumada and handed over to the Kashal in a mournful tone.

    Asra started shaking. Balsa put an arm around her shoulders.

    “Do you know what happened next?” Balsa asked.

    Ianu nodded. “I was at the temple of Talhamaya on the day of Torisha’s execution. I saw the water of the sacred river run red with blood. Other Ramau saw it, too. We knew then that Torisha had found some way to bring the god’s power into our world.” 

    Ianu cast her eyes down. “It’s what she always wanted. She was always looking for a way to bring Talhamaya back to us. It’s tragic that she had to die in order to achieve her goal.”

    Asra stiffened. It suddenly hurt to breathe. I should probably tell her that I’ m the Chamau, not mom, she thought.

    Balsa’s grip tightened around her. When Asra looked up at Balsa, the light in her eyes was hard and forbidding. Asra understood that Balsa didn’t want her to tell Ianu anything about the god. She gave Balsa a tiny nod. Ianu was a Tal person who had known her mother well, but Asra still felt apprehensive about telling her how she’d summoned the god.

    Ianu lifted her eyes from the floor. “When I heard about the massacre, I was sure that you and Chikisa had both died, Asra. Meeting you here now seems...impossible. Miraculous, even.” She paused. “Asra...can I ask you what happened to Chikisa?”

    “Well, um...”

    “You shouldn’t ask her that,” Balsa interrupted.”It’s unkind of you.” She told Ianu how Asra and Chikisa had been separated at Rota’s border with New Yogo and about their journey here with the caravan. She omitted the wolf attack and most of the details about their pursuers from her account.

    Ianu sat and listened to Balsa with a serious expression. When Balsa stopped speaking, she shook her head. “Oh, Asra, you’ve had such a terrible time! It must have been so awful. I went on a long and difficult journey with my uncle from the south of Rota to the north when I was young, so I can imagine a little of what you’ve gone through.”

    Ianu frowned deeply as she remembered all the hardships she’d suffered on her own travels. “My parents were killed by Rotans, too, Asra. I was born in the southern forest of Aruya. My parents traded furs with Rotan merchants. One day, there was some kind of misunderstanding or disagreement at one of the markets where they did their trading, and the merchants killed them. Slaughtered them like sheep.”

    Unbridled rage burned in Ianu’s eyes, but there was something sad in them, too. “The merchants weren’t punished. It’s not a crime to kill a Tal person. I couldn’t stay in a place that had so many frightening and painful memories, so my uncle took me north. Rotans won’t set foot in the Shan forest, so it’s safe for us.”

    Ianu gasped and looked up at Balsa. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to tell you my own sad story.”

    Balsa shook her head. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

    Ianu smiled a tiny smile, but a moment later her forehead crinkled in a frown. “I think I understand why there are people chasing after Asra,” she said. “The sacred river is flowing from Noyuk. If one of the Tal people managed to unite with Talhamaya, that would be dangerous for Rota’s royal family--and all other Rotans as well. Asra must have witnessed what Torisha did at Shintadan. That must be why the Kashal want to hunt down her and Chikisa.”

    Balsa felt a chill run down her neck to the base of her spine. Even if it was just speculation, Ianu’s theory made sense. If the Rotan royal family found out about Asra’s ability to summon Talhamaya, they would likely consider her to be too dangerous to live. Balsa suddenly understood the potential motives of Prince Ihan and the second son of the Shahal clan.

    Ianu shifted her eyes to Balsa. “What will you do now? The Kashal are formidable opponents. I’m impressed that you managed to get away from them, but rescuing Chikisa when it’s just the two of you is...” She shook her head. Ianu lapsed into silent contemplation for a while, then looked at Asra and said, “I am Tal, but just because I live in the shadows, that doesn’t mean I can openly defy the king. But I also can’t abandon a child of my own people when I know that she’s in danger.” 

    Ianu’s voice rang with conviction as if she’d just made an important decision. “Come with us,” she said. “I’ll lend you two of our hoods so that you can pass out of the gates with the rest of the Tal people.”

    Balsa shook her head. “That’s impossible. There are too many eyes in this place, and not all of them are friendly. I’m sure we’d be spotted. I expect that our pursuers are keeping watch over this inn, too. They probably already know that you visited us.”

    “You may be right,” Ianu said, “but I would still feel better if you came with us rather than traveling alone. We have knowledge of paths through the deep woods that no Rotan knows of. We can’t set foot in Jitan, so we’ll be no help to you there, but my people can at least guide you safely to the edges of the city. Please.

    “There’s a caravan leaving tomorrow morning. My family and friends will be leaving behind it. Escape this place with us, I beg you. We’ll turn off the main road into the woods as soon as we’re far enough from the Trader’s Market for our movements to pass unseen. I’m sure you’ll be able to shake off whoever’s following you if you travel with us.”

    Ianu’s plan to leave the Trader’s Market was very similar to Balsa’s own plan.The Tal people also knew the way to Jitan through the forest so that she and Asra could stay off the road. Going with the Tal people improved their chances of reaching Jitan safely.

    “All right,” Balsa said. “We’ll leave with you. And thanks.”

    Balsa hammered out the details of when and where they would meet the next morning. Ianu seemed both worried and excited as she left the room.

 

 

    Asra stretched out on her bed again. She brought the blankets up to her chin and closed her eyes tight, but she was too wound up to sleep. Balsa was awake as well; Asra heard her moving around the room and packing their things. Asra remembered the time Balsa had fallen asleep with her spear in her hand.

    Asra finally drifted off sometime late in the night. She had a series of nightmares, one after another; Ianu had stirred up painful memories that she revisited in her dreams. In her dream, Asra passed through two huge stones and crossed into another world that was bright with phosphorescent light. The air was humid and sticky; she smelled damp earth and moss. 

Asra and her mother followed the river that flowed between the stones to a low, clear space lit faintly by moonlight. She saw a woman lying down on a stone slab. It was too dark to see what the woman looked like, but she was entirely submerged in the water of the sacred river. There was a glowing ring of light hovering above her chest.

“The ring of sacred mistletoe,” her mother breathed. “Asra, do you see it?”

Asra was surprised. She didn’t know that her mother was able to see the sacred river or anything in the other world. “I can see it, mom. Sada Talhamaya is here. She looks like she’s floating in the sacred river, fast asleep. The ring of sacred mistletoe is so bright--are you sure you can’t see it?”

“I can’t,” her mother said. She sounded sad and disappointed. “I have no sacred powers. But our gods bestowed those powers upon you, Asra. I hope you know how much I love you. This is an important moment. It’s part of your destiny.” She paused. “Take the ring of sacred mistletoe, Asra.”

But Asra was afraid. “I’m scared.”

“It’s all right,” her mother said. “I’m here with you.” Her mother held her hand tightly and started chanting a prayer. Asra held her breath and tentatively reached out for the pale ring of light floating on the surface of the water. She could feel the ring in her hand as she gripped it; it was as light as air. She felt something winding around the little finger of the hand that gripped the ring, but she couldn’t see what it was.

The corona of light around the ring of sacred mistletoe flashed. Asra blinked; when she opened her eyes, the ring had been absorbed into her own body. She stared down at her chest as the ring became brighter and brighter.

“Asra!” Her mother sucked in a breath. She took Asra’s hand and started tracing the ring inside Asra with her fingers. The ring’s light shone even brighter; Asra was almost blinded by it.

“Asra.” Her mother was overcome with emotion and could barely speak. She wrapped her arms around Asra and wept.

    “You’re going to change the world, Asra! You’ve been chosen, chosen by the god! You’ll become Sada Talhamaya, transcend ordinary human existence, and bring peace to our world. We don’t need to be afraid of anything anymore.”

    Her mother knelt down in front of Asra. Her words gathered force and conviction as she spoke. “You must be noble, and high-minded, and pure of heart for the sake of the god. No one must be above you in any way; you must stand above them all. You must never let any of your feelings show on your face. You must be strong, so that you can unite with the god and show people the way to peace. No matter what happens, you must be as calm and composed as the surface of a lake in winter. Only then will you be worthy to become Sada Talhamaya.”

    Her mother’s words were engraved on Asra’s heart. She would never forget them.

    The scene of her dream shifted to another terrifying memory: her mother’s execution at Shintadan. She saw people collapse around her as they died. Chikisa’s eyes were fixed on her in terror and despair--and accusation.

    “Chikisa,” she gasped, “it’s not me! I’m not evil!” she yelled. Her breath came out in ragged gasps. She felt her bed under her and suddenly knew she was awake, but she couldn’t shake off what she’d seen in her dream.

    The fire in the room had died to embers, so the room was more than half-dark. Balsa rose quickly from her own bed and bent over Asra. “Is everything all right? You were having a nightmare.”

    Asra felt sweat dripping down her face as she looked up at Balsa. “Chikisa was...” Asra couldn’t go on. She swallowed. “He was there. He blames me. He’s always in my dreams, and he looks so sad, and scared, and...”

    Asra frantically composed herself, but her lips still trembled. She covered her face with her hands. “But I didn’t kill them! The god punished them because they were evil!” She kept her hands over her face as she spoke. She could still see everything in her dream clearly even though she was awake.

    The execution yard in the prison was dark, but the ring around her neck was bright and getting brighter. Her mother’s words of approval and encouragement echoed in her ears. But her mother was dead.

    Asra dropped her hands to her sides. Her mother had told her to be as calm as the surface of a lake in winter, but now the ice over her calm facade was cracking.

    “I hated them,” she choked out. “I hated them all. I still hate them! They laughed when my mom was killed. They laughed!”

    Balsa stood up in front of Asra and pulled her gently in so that her head rested against Balsa’s chest. Asra clung to Balsa and let out a harsh cry like a scream. This was the first time she’d cried over the loss of her mother. She felt like she was losing her voice.

    Balsa felt Asra’s wracking sobs against her chest, rising and falling like the ebbing of a tide. She stayed silent and kept her arms around Asra as she cried.

    Balsa didn’t pull away from Asra until Asra let go of her own volition. Balsa wiped more sweat from Asra’s forehead and said, “Asra. I know your brother. He’s usually kind to you and he always tells the truth, right?”

    Asra looked up at Balsa with eyes that were still wet with tears.

    “I think he was telling you your thoughts in your dream,” Balsa said.

    “My thoughts?”

    Balsa turned slowly away from Asra and sat back down on her own bed. She looked at Asra silently for a few moments, then said, “I’ve hated people before, too. When I was your age, I trained day and night so that I’d become strong enough to kill them all someday. Hatred for them burned inside me all the time. If I wasn’t fighting someone with my spear or with my fists, the hatred threatened to tear me apart.”

    Balsa shared her past with Asra in brief fragments: her father’s death at the king of Kanbal’s hands, Jiguro’s sacrifices to save her from suffering the same fate, and the life she and Jiguro had lived together. Most of her life had been spent fleeing her and Jiguro’s pursuers on long journeys that never seemed to end.

   “I wanted to become strong as fast as I possibly could. Not just strong: stronger than anyone else. I thought I could save myself if only I were strong enough.”

    Asra nodded. She was young and weak; she hadn’t been able to save her mother. She felt like a small stone crushed beneath someone’s heel. If she became stronger, she’d never have to feel that way again.

    “I grew up and became strong,” Balsa said, “but that didn’t save me, Asra.”

    Asra looked confused.

    “It’s true that my spear training and martial arts saved my life many times. I’m proud of myself for what I’ve been able to achieve, but...” Balsa didn’t know the right words to use to express what she wanted. “Killing people I hated didn’t fix anything. I didn’t feel any better after killing them.”

    Balsa rested the shaft of her spear against her forehead. “Before I even realized it, I’d changed in ways I could never recover from. The hatred changed me.”

Balsa’s eyes focused on Asra. “Even if no one else knows how much you want to kill people, you’ ll know. You’ll always know. I want you to imagine my face when I killed people over and over again, simply because I hated them and wanted them dead. Imagine the split-second feeling of relief I felt cutting them down before the hatred consumed me again.”

A shiver went up Asra’s spine. Her shoulders stiffened. She looked down at the floor and said, “But I don’t think having the god answer my prayers is like that,” she said quietly. She seemed to be trying to convince herself.

Balsa shook her head in denial. “I don’t know if what’s inside you is a god or not--and I know a little about things like gods and spirits. When I was young, my father told me about Yoram, the god of thunder in Kanbal. I never met him, but he’s the first god I ever heard of. As for spirits--well, there was a water spirit that caused clouds and rain that I spent some time with. Another spirit I encountered had power over dreams. There’s a spirit in Kanbal called the Mountain King that changes thoughts and memories into a precious gemstone called luisha. He looked a lot like a snake to me.

“But, Asra,” she said, “I have never seen a god that saves or punishes people before. Not once.” 

Asra’s eyes opened wide. She didn’t see any trace of blame or reproach in Balsa’s eyes, only a profound sadness.

“Think about it, Asra. If there really was a god that punished all the bad people and saved all the good ones, there would probably be a lot less suffering in the world.”

Asra’s ears buzzed. Her face was so hot she felt like she was on fire. Balsa was making her realize things about herself that she wasn’t ready to understand. It was possible that her belief in Talhamaya was wrong. When she reviewed everything her mother had told her about the god in light of what Balsa had just said, a lot of it seemed strange and not easy to verify.

Asra ignored the ringing in her ears and doubled down on what her mother had told her. Her mother wouldn’t lie. “Talhamaya is a great and powerful god! I think she really does pass judgment on bad people. Sada Talhamaya united with the god and used her power to punish all the evil people! That’s what my mom told me!” Asra insisted vehemently. “The Tal Kumada never told us the truth. Only our mom did. She told me about the kind of person Sada Talhamaya was. She made Rotarbal a peaceful place without hunger or suffering. Everything that’s wrong with the world now is because Kiran killed her.”

Balsa regarded Asra in silence for a moment. “Do you intend to become Sada Talhamaya?” she asked.

Asra held her breath.

You’re going to change the world, Asra! You ’ve been chosen, chosen by the god! You’ ll become Sada Talhamaya, transcend ordinary human existence, and bring peace to our world. Asra remembered her mother saying those words to her.

Mom prayed for me to be chosen by the god, and I was.

Asra tried to rekindle the feelings of exhilaration and complete safety and peace she’d felt while killing the wolves. She’d felt like she’d been floating above the clouds then.

But as she sat here on her bed in this tiny room, she felt no desire to become Sada Talhamaya at all. She didn’t think that she could be a huge and powerful god that removed all the suffering from the world. That wasn’t who she was, or who she wanted to be.

Why did the god choose me? I wish she’d chosen someone stronger and smarter.

Asra frowned. “I... I...” she whispered. Tears filled her eyes.

“What should I do, Balsa? My mom wanted me to be Sada Talhamaya so that I could bring peace and happiness to the world. She gave her life so that I could do that, but I... I don’t think I can.” Tears coursed steadily down her face.

“I don’t really understand Tal religious beliefs or gods,” Balsa said, “so I don’t understand Talhamaya, either. But I don’t think you’d be happy living as god who kills people whenever she likes. I also don’t think that a god like that could bring peace and happiness to the world.” 

She looked Asra directly in the eyes. “So let’s make sure that doesn’t happen. Your face during the wolf attack almost scared me to death.”

Asra felt ice-cold hands wrap around her heart and squeeze. Her eyes snapped open wide.

“When you wore clothes the color of sarayu flowers after your bath in Shirogai, you were beautiful. It made me happy to see you that way.”

Asra remembered that the dress smelled like flowers. She tightened her grip on herself and pushed aside the memory. She shouldn’t listen to Balsa. Balsa wasn’t Tal or Rotan. She was from Kanbal and didn’t know anything at all about Talhamaya. Asra had to believe in Talhamaya; Talhamaya wouldn’t forgive her if she didn’t.

Asra closed her eyes tight and thought, Like the surface of a lake in winter.

Balsa watched Asra’s face go blank and expressionless. She couldn’t think of anything else to say that might reach her.

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