Guardian of the God - Return from the Hard Journey - Part 1 Chapter 1 - The Night of the Blizzard

  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 1 - Wolf Killer

Chapter 1 - The Night of the Blizzard

 

    The air was cold and damp. Asra huddled inside her warm coat and looked up at the silvery pale sky. She frowned from beneath her hood.

    “Asra?”

    Mina was sharing a horse with Asra. She turned to look at her and asked, “What’s wrong?”

    Mina was the beloved daughter of the caravan leader, Naka; she had just turned eight that year. She had a sweet high voice like a songbird’s. Mina got along with almost everyone. When she’d learned that another girl close to her own age would be traveling with the caravan, she’d seen it as an opportunity to make a new friend.

    Asra and Mina had played together since the very first day of their journey. When they stopped in the evenings, Mina taught Asra how to fetch water and help with the cooking. Asra was unfamiliar with Yogo’s traditions and ways of doing things, so there was a lot that she didn’t know how to do at first. But everyone in the caravan was always on their best behavior in front of Mina, so Asra became used to the caravan’s way of life in almost no time at all. Asra also managed to learn and understand some Yogoese.

    Asra seemed to have a natural knack for horseback riding. She’d cared for an old horse with her father a long time ago and still remembered much of what she’d learned. Asra’s father had also taught her a lot about living in the woods. When the caravan crossed the border into Rota at the Samal Pass, Asra made herself useful to her new friends by finding wild autumn fruits and herbs for medicine. Mina said she wished that Asra could be her older sister.

    Asra was shy and reserved by nature, so when Balsa observed her easing out of her protective shell to help the caravan she was greatly relieved. She could focus on her work of guarding the caravan more easily knowing that Asra was safe and comfortable with the others.

    After they’d gotten through Samal pass, they’d joined up with another caravan from northern Rota that was carrying a large cargo of furs. Larger caravans were more difficult targets for bandits and thieves; the new caravan also had its own guards. Balsa and the other guards were able to take shifts at night and get adequate sleep, which Balsa was genuinely grateful for.

    So far, the journey from Shirogai had gone well, but there’d been some light snowfall at intervals starting the night before last. The wind was also getting noticeably colder. Winter had come upon them unexpectedly quickly.

    The Western Imperial Highway in New Yogo became the Yamushil Highway in Rota. The Yamushil Highway progressed a bit further north before forking into northern and southern roads. Following the highway to the south would take them to the capital of Rota, while following it to the north would take them to the Rakul region. The northern road became thinner and less defined the further it went until it vanished into the trees and grasslands.

    The Rakul region was bitterly cold for most of the year, making farming all but impossible there. The people that lived in Rakul eked out their bare existence by growing a type of grain that was resistant to the cold. They also raised sheep and a thick-furred variety of cow called shiku.

    Asra kept her hands on the reins of the horse she shared with Mina and thought for a moment. She pulled up on the reins with her left hand and turned the horse away from the rest of the caravan.

    “What are you doing?” Mina asked.

    “I just noticed something. I want to find Balsa.”

    Balsa was riding a fast black horse around the edges of the caravan, moving in circles. The withered winter grass cast long shadows in the pale light of the sun. Asra saw Balsa’s horse moving through the grass and urged her horse in Balsa’s direction.

    Balsa stopped her horse the moment she saw Asra. Asra’s horse trotted up beside Balsa’s. With her customary shyness, Asra said, “Um...Balsa, I don’t like how the sky looks. The wind’s picked up, so...I think a blizzard’s coming.”

    The breath of Balsa’s horse steamed in the air. She patted its neck, then nodded at Asra. “I think you’re right. I’ve been worried about the same thing for a while now. Mr. Naka said this morning that he wanted to stop in Torua, but it looks like the blizzard will hit before we get there. I’ll go talk to him. Then I should probably look for a sheltered spot for us all to make camp.”

    Balsa turned her horse to the side using only her knees, then galloped toward the head of the caravan. The Naka family owned the caravan’s goods; the entire family was made up of eight people. The family had eight horses and eight sets of baggage between them.

    As caravan leader, Naka rode at the very head of the caravan on a neutered stallion; directly behind him were all the goods that the caravan needed for its journey. Naka’s brother Toshi rode ahead of two large carts of furs that they would sell or trade in Rota. Behind the carts, Mina’s mother Marona and Toshi’s wife and new baby rode in covered wagons. The rear of the caravan was protected by Naka’s oldest son and his youngest brother, Tam. Naka’s aged mother rode in the baggage train behind the rest of the caravan.

    The larger caravan that they’d joined up with at Rota’s border traveled behind theirs. The leader of that caravan was named Ren. His caravan was far larger than Naka’s; it was protected by forty-odd guards all armed with swords, bows and arrows.

    Naka stopped his horse as Balsa approached. He pointed to the sky and nodded at her. “I thought we’d make it to Torua this morning, but now I’m not so sure,” he called out to her. Before them was a vast expanse of flat land covered in withered grass. If the blizzard trapped them out here in the open, they could all die. Balsa squinted behind the caravan and pointed out a narrow strip of woods they’d passed an hour or so before.

    “There may be cattle pens near those trees we passed not too long ago,” she said. “It’s our best chance for finding some kind of shelter.”

    Naka nodded. “I hate to ask, but can you carry this message to Ren’s caravan as well? I’ll send Mina and Asra to tell everyone here that we’re turning back.”

    Asra watched Balsa’s horse fly as fast as an arrow toward Ren’s caravan. Naka called out to Asra and Mina, so Asra rode up to him and received his message. Asra directed her horse toward the rear of the caravan and cantered as she and Mina called out that they were turning back toward the trees.

Balsa rode up to Ren and his coterie of guards to report news of the coming blizzard. Ren puffed out his cheeks and said, “So? What does the weather have to do with us? You must be a cowardly woman if you’re afraid of a little snow.” 

Balsa explained that Naka’s caravan was turning back.

Ren threw up his hands and said, “Fine, we’ll turn around. Now get out of my sight. I can’t stand to look at you.”

Ren and all of his guards were men. They didn’t know one another very well and were much more independent and taciturn compared to Naka and his family. Despite the caravan’s large size, it had managed to make excellent time so far, so it was easy to understand why Ren would be upset. It was clear that he wanted to keep going no matter what.

Balsa understood how Ren felt, but he wouldn’t be able to keep moving in a snowstorm. Neither would Naka and his people.

Balsa turned her horse to go back to Naka’s caravan. A guard named Shisoya brought his horse alongside hers and hailed her; she stopped. Shisoya’s gray-flecked black hair fluttered in the strengthening wind.

“Maybe it’s none of my business, but...” Shisoya said quietly. “That girl should probably stay in the wagon so she won’t be seen.”

“You’re right,” Balsa said. “I’ll take care of it.”

The forest bordered the lands and holdings of Rotan herdsmen, but Asra was Tal. Shisoya wanted Balsa to hide Asra so that she wouldn’t cause a panic. Shisoya stared at Balsa for a long moment until he felt sure she’d understood him, then nodded.

Balsa returned to Naka’s caravan and told Naka how things had gone with Ren. She also asked his permission for Asra to ride in one of the wagons. Naksa’s expression conveyed mild irritation at the request, but after thinking a bit, he shrugged.

“Have Asra ride in the wagon with Mina,” Naka said.

“Huh? Why does Asra need to ride in the wagon?” Mina asked loudly.

Silence fell over the rest of the caravan. All of the adults understood why Asra had to hide.

“The Rotans don’t like Asra,” Balsa said. “You’ll have to help her and make sure her face stays hidden while she’s in the wagon, Mina.”

Mina looked at Balsa in confusion, but she nodded. Everyone stood still and didn’t say anything as Asra approached the wagon. Asra felt the skin of her face tightening from nervousness as she climbed into the wagon and sat down in the very center of it.

Naka’s wife Marona was driving the wagon. Asra looked out at Balsa’s face, which was framed by Marona’s arms. When Asra looked Balsa in the eyes, she swallowed suddenly and sat up straight.

Balsa’s eyes were hard and devoid of compassion. They shone with a powerful and mysterious inner light. Asra felt like Balsa’s eyes were accusing her of something. Did you want to show yourself to the Rotans? That’s what she felt like Balsa was asking her.

Asra didn’t know what she wanted to do. She hadn’t thought about hiding herself while she was in New Yogo at all, but now that she was back in Rota, she remembered to be afraid of the villagers. She didn’t even have her brother with her to protect her from them this time.

Asra gritted her teeth. Whatever Balsa saw in Asra’s face made her soften her expression. She smiled, then turned her horse away from the wagon and trotted off.

    Naka’s caravan made their way toward the strip of woods they’d passed by before, but the road vanished almost to nothing in the tall grass, making the progression of the wagons tortuously slow. The mounted members of the caravan had to stomp the grass down entirely flat for the wagons to make any headway at all.

    Plains rabbits also built their warrens in the tall grass, which made navigation for the people on mounts even more difficult. Sometimes the warrens covered so much ground that the riders were forced to find a path around them for the wagons.

    The sun began to set. The sky overhead was dark gray with thick clouds that loomed over the caravan. They were running out of time. People called out to one another and moved more quickly in a last desperate attempt to get everyone to safety.

    The herders that lived on this land built large, sheltered cattle pens to help their livestock survive the winter. The fences of the pens were formed of thick tree trunks and long lengths of leather reinforced by retaining walls woven from the branches of young trees. Balsa could tell at a glance that the cattle pens were built well enough to prevent the caravan and their animals from freezing to death.

    The herders’ huts were just behind the cattle pens. Their wives and young children would pass the winter in Torua while the men of working age stayed here to tend the herds of sheep and cows. They also had to protect their animals from attack by roving packs of wolves.

    Naka and Ren rode ahead of everyone else to beg the herders for shelter until the storm passed. The herders were already using the cattle pens for their own animals, but they agreed to let Naka and Ren’s people make use of their homes and barns for the night. When the wagons arrived, the strong and thickly bearded herdsmen called out to one another to help guide the wagons to their huts.

    Asra stayed concealed inside one of the wagons and listened to the herdsmen speaking outside. The dialect they used was rough and masculine, but their tone was quite friendly toward Naka and Ren. They called out to the women driving the wagons to go slowly and be careful as they got closer to the huts.

    The herders’ gruff kindness made Asra uncomfortable. This was the first time any Rotan had called out to her in a friendly or solicitous way. She was much more used to fear and threats.

    I should stay in the cart until the blizzard ’s over, she thought. I’ m sure it’ s warm enough for me to survive in here. But they might not let me stay. Maybe the huts will be big enough to hide me somewhere? What will happen when I go inside?

    Marona turned to look at Asra. Asra’s heart pounded wildly, but her voice didn’t shake when she said, “I’ll use a shuma face covering when I leave the cart. They won’t see me.” Her Yogoese was still accented and imprecise, but when she pulled out a face covering from her pocket and mimed putting it on, Marona seemed to understand her.

    Asra unbuttoned the top half of her coat and settled the gray face covering over her shoulders and head so that it concealed over half of her face. Then she refastened the buttons on her coat to keep the face covering in place. She left the cart very last, after everyone else. She walked past the Rotan men with her face cast down; no one stopped her or even looked at her as she entered the hut.

    I ’m safe for now, she thought, but what about when we have to eat? She was nervous, but she also felt strangely calm. When she stepped into the Rotan hut with Mina and the others, what she felt wasn’t fear, but simple curiosity.

    Once she was inside, Asra was led into a little room that was usually used for storage. Dried meat was stacked up in crates from floor to ceiling. Clay pots and jars were lined up alongside one of the walls. Two of the walls were formed entirely out of stacks of firewood.

    There were two doors leading into the room. The one in front of her was open; through it, she could see herders preparing places to sleep and a hot meal for themselves and their unexpected guests. A large fire was lit in the room beyond this one; she felt its heat even from this distance. The air was so thick with smoke that it stung her eyes.

    The two caravans had been granted three of the herders’ huts. Some of Naka’s men piled up wet luggage in the storage room while others laid out blankets for people to sleep on the floor. Mina was in a bright and energetic mood; she ran back and forth from room trying to help everyone she saw. The men Mina passed settled their hands kindly on her head and spoke to her in a friendly way.

    Asra made up her own bed behind a huge pile of luggage. As soon as she was finished, Balsa entered the storage room. She crouched down next to Asra and said quietly, “I told the herders that you have a cut on your face and you’re embarrassed about it. No one should look at you too closely. I told the caravans to keep to the same story.”

    Asra nodded. Balsa lifted Asra’s face covering a little and looked her in the eye. “Are you all right?”

    Asra smiled. Balsa’s shoulders relaxed as she smiled back. She punched Asra lightly in the shoulder, then stood up. The sound of the wind howling came from outside the hut. The wind was strong enough to shake all the walls. 

    A long line of men entered the storage room; some had to crowd past others as they walked. Their coats were completely covered in snow.

    “This is some blizzard,” one of the herders said. “We haven’t had any snow this winter until now.”

    The men talked among themselves as they brushed snow off each other. They were glad to be safe and protected from the storm outside. A large blizzard was a terrifying thing, but the herders were grateful for the company of the caravan. They didn’t often get to meet people from other parts of the world.

    The walls of the hut continued to shake in the wind. Cold air blew in through gaps in the walls. Mina and Asra started moving the luggage around to block the largest of the holes. When the herders noticed what they were doing, one said, “Ah, Yogo girls are so smart! You’re making the walls a little thicker for us so that it stays warm in here. Masshul rai!” This last declaration was an expression of praise used to compliment Rotan children.

    Mina beamed happily at their praise. Asra’s feelings were more complicated; she couldn’t identify them easily. She remembered that her father had often called out “Masshul rai!” to her and Chikisa.

    The meal that the herders shared with the caravans became a feast. Both the herders and their guests put their all into preparing the meal, which was made up of fresh sheep’s milk, mutton stew, and dried meat. The stew contained a savory mushroom that completely erased the bitter tang of the sheep’s milk. It warmed the herders and their guests all the way through so that they almost forgot how bitterly cold it was outside.

    There was also a kind of cheese called rakua made from cow’s milk that could be roasted on skewers with the dried meat. When the outer skin of the cheese browned, the men removed the skewers from over the fire and bit into the toasted gooey cheese. There was fresh ham hidden in the center of the cheese.

    Naka brought out some of his own expensive wine from New Yogo to share; he also shared a sugary sweet called shosom, which the Rotans had never seen before. After Mina took the first bite, the herdsmen devoured the shosom greedily.

    Asra ate while sitting behind the caravan’s luggage, doing her best to make herself invisible. The room was warm and noisy from the feast. It looked like a lot of fun. She had no idea how Rotan people usually lived; she’d never seen a Rotan smile before now.

    Would they stop smiling if she removed her face covering?

    Balsa crouched down at Asra’s side, then sat down and stretched out. “We can sleep safe and warm tonight,” she said to Asra with a little smile.

    Asra nodded. “Someone will have to go check on the horses, though.”

    Balsa’s expression suddenly became serious. “Naka and Ren didn’t know that the blizzard would hit this hard, or this fast. I think they expected to reach Rakul before the first snow of the season. I’m not sure how well the wagons will be able to move in all the ice and snow.”

    Asra’s eyes flashed with sudden comprehension. “Will we make it to Jitan in time?”

    Balsa nodded. “Don’t worry about that. We’ll make it. I'm more worried about four-legged thieves in these parts.”

    Four-legged thieves? Asra frowned, confused, but then she realized that Balsa was talking about wolves. Wolves starved in winter and often attacked livestock--or horses. They didn’t usually attack people, but a hungry wolf in winter was a terrifying beast. The wailing of the wind through the walls sounded like a wolf pack howling. Goosebumps prickled Asra’s arms.

    “The fur trade is a dangerous business,” Balsa said. ‘The most expensive kind of coyan pelt sells out fast in New Yogo during the winter, so everyone wants to get their hands on them. In New Yogo, there’s a medicinal herb for treating animal diseases called shaim that can only be harvested at this time of year, so it’s always in scarce supply. A lot of people will be traveling right now to gather shaim.”

    As Asra listened, she wondered why Mr. Naka would bring a newborn baby on such a dangerous journey.

    Balsa seemed to guess what she was thinking. “Caravans make greater profits than ordinary merchants,” she said. “And Mr. Naka and his family have always lived this way. Mr. Naka probably didn’t even think about leaving his brother's family and the baby at home. The road is home to them.”

    Asra glanced at the cooking fire in the next room. The flames lit up half her face, leaving the other half in shadow. She nodded in understanding. If Asra had been born to a family that owned caravans, she might have lived her life as a member of one. If she’d been born into a family of herders, she might live in a hut like this with a Rotan family. But she’d been born Tal. There seemed to be a lot of different ways for people to live.

    I wonder where Balsa was born, and how she was raised? 

    She wanted to ask Balsa, but the words stuck in her throat. The rest of the night passed peacefully. Asra didn't show her face to anyone.

 

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