Guardian of the God - Return from the Hard Journey - Part 3 Chapter 2 - The Tal Trappers

 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 3 - Sada Talhamaya

Chapter 2 - The Tal Trappers

 The day before Tanda's horrible dream, Mark of the Kashal followed Balsa and a group of Tal trappers and merchants to the banks of the Sai river. It was one of the worst days of his life so far.

 He'd been so careful. He'd come all this way—but Balsa was clever, so he was always forced to travel quite a bit behind her so she wouldn't spot him. By the time he reached the bridge that spanned the river, the battle that had taken place there was almost over.

 The bridge was completely destroyed. Mark climbed a tree and surveyed the scene from a higher vantage point. He saw no sign of Balsa or Asra, which meant they'd probably already crossed to the other side. It would take a significant amount of time to find another way across so he could keep following them.

 Mark jumped from tree to tree like a monkey so that he could see the broken bridge better. A large group of armed men stood near it. He wasn't about to engage such a large number of warriors, so all he could do now was wait for them to leave. The battlefield might give him some clues as to where Balsa was headed next.

 Then Balsa dashed through the trees beneath him and attacked the warriors near the bridge, peeling them off in groups of two and three so that she could engage them under the cover of the trees. Mark had no intention of helping her fight them; the two of them couldn't possibly win against such overwhelming numbers.

 This was the first time Mark witnessed Balsa's superhuman strength and speed. She fought like a demon or a god; men went down from blows from her spear and didn't rise. Mark realized that Balsa had let him off lightly in their encounter; she could have done far worse.

 As he watched the men surround Balsa and chase her through the trees, Mark felt the stirrings of frustration with himself. This wasn't fair. He watched Balsa cut the remaining rope binding the bridge to this side and fall into the gorge along with the bridge.

 Mark closed his eyes and prayed that Balsa would survive somehow.

 Then she dropped into the frozen river, still gripping her spear. Mark doubted that she could be saved from the river before she froze to death.

 The warriors picked up their fallen comrades and retreated. Mark climbed down from his tree and approached the riverbank. He measured the gap in front of him with his eyes and shook his head. He might be able to jump the gap as a mountain goat, but not on his own two legs.

 He looked down at the river and shivered. He saw no sign of Balsa anywhere. Even if she'd summoned the strength to swim out of the river and climb up the side of the ravine, she would probably die of hypothermia soon.

 Mark's fingers were numb. I should worry about myself, here, not just her.

 It seemed that Asra had crossed the river, so he needed to reach the other side and pick up her trail as soon as possible. It was already getting dark. He wouldn't be able to search for another bridge in total darkness. Mark decided that it would be faster to descend into the ravine, find a shallow place to cross the river, and climb up the other side.

 Climbing down took longer than he expected. The sky was gray and dim by the time he was level with the river. He walked downstream and looked for a place to make camp. When he scented the air, he smelled smoke. The Shan forest was on the other side of the river, so there shouldn't be any Rotans nearby. That meant the smoke was coming from a Tal fire.

 Mark kept walking in the direction the smoke was wafting from until he discovered fresh footprints in the snow. The footprints were large and deep: a man's, carrying something heavy. He followed the footprints to the door of a small hut that looked and smelled like it belonged to some Tal trappers.

 Mark heard voices on the other side of the door. He lifted his hand to knock, but then hesitated. He didn't want to disturb anyone, but he would have to unless he wanted to pass the night outside.

 Mark knocked on the door. The voices inside the hut fell silent. After a long pause, someone came to the door and opened it a crack.

 "And who are you?" The man's voice was hoarse, but his tone was polite.

 "I'm a magic weaver. My name is Mark. The sun set before I could make camp, and now the storm is getting worse. I hate to ask, but may I stay in your hut for the night?"

 When the other men inside overheard that he was a magic weaver, they started whispering among themselves.

 "Why would a magic weaver be here?"

 "If he wanted to attack us, he wouldn't have shown himself."

 Mark cleared his throat. "I don't intend to harm anyone," he said. "All I want is a night's rest out of the snow and cold. Please believe me."

 The man in front of him took a deep breath, then opened the door fully to let Mark in. Smoke stung Mark's eyes as he entered. It was much warmer inside the hut than outside thanks to a fire in the center of the room. He smelled thick smoke from the fire and the sharp smell of newly tanned leather.

 There were three older men already in the room, all gathered around the fire. Two people were also lying down on a huge wolf pelt near the center of the room.

 "Pardon my intrusion," Mark said. "I'll only be staying for the night." He bowed his head.

 The three men eyed him warily, but didn't say or do anything to prevent him from coming closer to the fire. As his eyes adjusted to the low light inside the hut, Mark discerned that two of the old men were trappers and one was a Tal Kumada priest. When Mark turned his eyes to the two people lying on the wolf pelt, he swallowed hard.

 "Balsa?" he knelt down next to her. Her wet black hair stuck to her face, which was as pale as death. He extended his hand above her nose and mouth, but couldn't feel her breathing.

 "Do you know this woman?" one of the Tal trappers asked. "She was found floating in the river not far from here. We couldn't just let a dead body stay in one of our sacred rivers, so we brought her here. We thought she was dead, but Shinzai says she's still alive." He gestured to the Tal Kumada priest.

 Mark placed his trembling fingers to the pulse point on Balsa's neck. Her skin was as cold as ice, but he could feel the faint, unsteady rhythm of her heartbeat. "She's alive!" he said. He was openly relieved. He faced the Tal trappers and said, "We need to warm her up, now. Do you have any more furs or blankets?"

 His eyes fell on the man lying next to Balsa. He still hadn't moved.

 "Huh? Uncle Aram?" Mark and Aram belonged to the same Kashal tribe. He suddenly remembered that this part of the Shan forest was Aram's assigned area to patrol and keep watch over.

 "Don't touch him," Shinzai said. "Aram is currently projecting his soul."

 Mark nodded in understanding. Aram was a very powerful magic weaver who could establish a soul connection with an animal for hours or even days at a time, much like Shihana and Sufar. Very few of the Kashal had this ability.

 Why was a Tal Kumada priest here? Why was Aram patrolling now? What did he expect to find? Mark had too many questions; he found it difficult to focus on just one. He looked up at the Tal Kumada priest, Shinzai, who was sitting in a chair in the corner of the room. Mark swallowed down his anxiety and asked, "Do you often stay here when you're not traveling through sacred Tal lands?"

 Shinzai's expression was complicated. "Yes, though this area is not so much consecrated ground as it is a soldier's camp. The Rotans have crept further and further into the woods over the years. This is not a good place to pray or give thanks to the gods."

 Mark nodded again. He should have guessed based on how these Tal people were behaving that this place wasn't too close to sacred ground. Shihana's allies wouldn't have attacked the bridge if it was. Mark knew that Aram was completely loyal to Sufar. More than that, Aram's single-minded determination and focus wasn't a good fit for Shihana and her complicated scheming. Aram was probably running through the woods as a wolf now to report the current situation to Sufar.

 The twenty-second day of Shasam was fast approaching; Sufar had to get to Jitan before then. That probably meant he was somewhere nearby right now. He might even come to this hut at Aram's invitation.

 Mark shifted his focus to Balsa. She was still unconscious and still breathing. Her clothes were soaked through; they would have to be removed before warming her up. The trappers brought Mark all the extra blankets and furs they had, then averted their eyes as Mark stripped Balsa of her clothes quickly and efficiently. He covered her immediately with the dry blankets and furs, then flipped her over to dry her back.

 Mark saw a long, thin cut extending from her shoulder to her hip and gasped. It was fortunate that she'd fallen into the frozen river so soon after being wounded. The cut wasn't bleeding at all now, but as soon as she got warm, it would probably gush. As he laid her down again and covered her, he noticed another long, thin cut along her left side. It had been stitched closed previously, but those stitches had burst during her fight.

 Mark sighed. The Kashal were given medical training as part of their education, but he wasn't particularly good at treating wounds.

 He faced the Tal trappers and the Tal Kumada priest again. "Do any of you have any strong alcohol? I want to treat her injuries."

 One of the trappers handed him a small bottle of wine. "Just who is this woman?" he asked. "She was clutching that spear over there so tight that it took two of us together to make her let go of it."

 "She's a bodyguard and uses a spear," Mark said. Then he turned his full attention to Balsa's injuries.

  

  

 A few days later, Sufar and Tanda arrived outside the hut a little before noon. Balsa was about to freeze to death when she first entered the hut, but now she was burning up with a high fever. Mark had spent the previous night watching over her. When Sufar knocked on the door of the hut, Mark was asleep while sitting upright next to Balsa.

 As the door opened, Aram awoke and let out a long groan. The trappers gathered around him, asking him where he'd been and what he'd seen. The Tal Kumada priest Shinzai remained quietly in his corner.

 When Sufar came in and saw Mark, his eyes widened. "Mark? Why are you here?"

 Mark opened his mouth to answer, then noticed another man rushing in behind Sufar. He saw Mark, looked down at Balsa, and cried out wordlessly as he dashed across the room.

 The man pushed Mark out of the way with surprising force, then knelt down next to Balsa. "Balsa?"

 He didn't seem to notice Mark or Aram at all. He felt Balsa's forehead with shaking hands, then checked to see if her pupils were dilated. After that, he checked her pulse.

 Mark remembered him now. This was Tanda, the man he and Sufar had rescued from the prison jar. Mark hadn't thought him capable of the kind of utter desperation that he was seeing now, but there it was.

 Aram came back to himself slowly. He'd connected his soul to a wolf's for days, so at first all he could do was look around himself and blink in confusion. He had no idea who Balsa was or when she and Mark had arrived.

 Sufar addressed Mark and Aram and shared the details of his journey so far. Mark told Sufar about the attack on Balsa and Asra at the bridge over the Sai river. Asra had been led away by the Tal people.

 "I wanted to follow them into their sacred lands, but then I found uncle Aram and Balsa. I thought I'd wait until he came back from his patrol to consult with Aram and gather information. I heard from that Tal Kumada priest over there that this area isn't safe. Rotan soldiers and other fighters have been showing up in numbers lately. I had no way of confirming if this was true or not, but I didn't want to enter Tal lands without more help or information. I decided that even if Aram woke up soon, I'd still wait for you to get here, Sufar."

 Sufar nodded. "You decided wisely, Mark. Aram, please tell us all what you saw as you ran through Shan forest."

 Aram took a deep breath, shook his head to clear it, and focused on Sufar. "Five days ago, a large number of Kashal warriors from the Rawal settlement crossed into Tal sacred territory. They captured me and took me with them. Then the Ramau guided them further into the woods and prepared a place to make camp.

 "Shihana came to the camp two nights after my capture," Aram said. His voice was harsh from long disuse. "There was a brief moment when everyone was distracted after she arrived, so I used that chance to escape. I wanted to share my knowledge of Shihana's movements with you, so I ran to you as a wolf and guided you back here."

 Aram frowned deeply. "What the hell is going on, Sufar? Since when are the Ramau and the Kashal allies? What is Shihana planning?"

 "We live in tragic times, Aram. Talhamaya has returned to this world."

 Aram stared into Sufar's eyes and nodded slightly in sad understanding.

  

 Dim light danced under Balsa's eyelids when she awoke. She could hear the crackling of a fire nearby. She tried to move, but her body felt like it wasn't her own. She felt like a snake or a reptile trapped beneath layers of old skin. She was so exhausted that she'd probably fall back asleep again at any moment.

 Her face was warm. A soft blanket brushed against her cheek. She felt sore and pained all over, but she smelled something very familiar and comforting that kept her calm. She couldn't see much in the dim light of the fire, but she could make out the shapes of other people in the dark. She could hear their snores and deep breathing as they slept.

 Balsa tried to turn over and realized that someone was cradling her head on their arm.

 "Balsa, are you awake?"

 Balsa's eyes snapped open. "Tanda?" When she realized that Tanda had been holding her as she slept, she blinked. This was a dream, right?

 Tanda smiled at her in relief. "Wait a minute. I'll get you some water." Tanda carefully extricated himself from Balsa and stood up. He tiptoed across the room and filled a cup with water from a deep basin. Then he tiptoed back to Balsa and handed her the cup. The cool, clear water soothed her fever-parched throat.

 "This hut belongs to some Tal trappers. I'll tell you everything I know about how we both got here, but first you should take your medicine."

 Balsa placed the bitter pill that Tanda gave her in her mouth and swallowed.

 "I'd have something better to give you if we were home, but there are limited supplies here. Still, that pill is better than nothing. It'll prevent your wounds from getting infected."

 Tanda laid down next to Balsa again and started whispering voicelessly to her as they'd often done as children so that they wouldn't wake Jiguro or Torogai.

 "You're the luckiest woman alive. When I saw your spirit, I was sure that you were dead." Tanda kept whispering without waiting for her reply, as if he was speaking to himself. Balsa closed her eyes halfway and just listened.

 The fog in her mind cleared gradually as Tanda spoke; eventually, she gathered the presence of mind to ask some questions. "Where am I? Why am I here?"

 Tanda told her. He also told her that Shihana and Sufar were working against one another, just as she'd suspected. The threads of various schemes and plots came unraveled as she understood the entire situation more clearly. She couldn't believe how fortunate she was to be here with Tanda now. It seemed completely impossible.

 But as the immediate present came back to her, Balsa felt needled by remembered pain and regret. She'd been foolish enough to trust Ianu simply because she was Tal, and that foolishness had led to Asra being snatched away from her. Tanda's long story of how she'd gotten here made no mention of Asra.

 When he finally stopped speaking, Balsa opened her eyes and said, "So Sufar and Mark aren't here anymore?" She could only hear three other people in the room aside from herself and Tanda.

 "Yeah. He and Mark went to Jitan this morning. They're hoping to catch up to Shihana before she gets there."

 Balsa sighed. Her fever was so high that it was hard to talk, so she could only complain internally at the news that Sufar was already gone

 "Is it the middle of Shasam already?" Balsa asked. " We don't have much time. Shihana must have found some way to manipulate Asra."

 "Well, she does have Chikisa," Tanda said. "Sufar told me that she knew Asra's mother, too."

 Balsa remembered Asra waking from a dream where her brother had blamed and accused her with despair in his eyes. Overcome with exhaustion, she slept again.

 The next morning, Balsa woke up to find the hut almost empty. The trappers had gone to the forest that morning, so only the Tal Kumada priest was still in the hut. Balsa thought she must have dreamed that Tanda was here with her when she woke up and found him missing, but then the door of the hut opened and he came in from outside. He was carrying a basin full of fresh water.

 "Oh, you're up." Tanda set the water down and crouched down next to Balsa so that he could check on her fever.

 "As always, you're mending up just fine. You still have a fever, but it's slight. Mark's not very good at stitches, but it seems like he at least learned the basics of medicine at some point. You're lucky you fell into the river when you did and that you were found just after so that you wouldn't freeze. Mark's convinced that that's the only reason you didn't bleed to death. And your layers of clothes also kept you from freezing before you got here. Did you know that you refused to let go of your spear, even when you were unconscious? That was lucky, too—the pose helped you keep your head above water."

 Tanda transferred something from a coal-black pan over the fire into a bowl, then placed the bowl onto a low table. There was a jar of honey on the table as well. Tanda lifted the lid off the jar, added a little honey to the bowl, then handed the bowl and a spoon to Balsa.

 "It's wheat gruel," Tanda said. "I also put milk in it, as much as the trappers could spare. Try to eat as much as you can."

 Balsa took a single bite of the gruel. Tanda looked at her with a dissatisfied expression until she ate quite a bit more. She took careful sips of hot tea and somehow managed to eat the entire bowl of gruel, but it took a long time. She wanted to rest again after eating, but the wound on her back gave her trouble when she stretched out. She had to lie face-down to get any relief at all from the pain.

 Tanda tapped his chin in thought, then sat down with his back to the wall near the room's fire pit. He pulled Balsa closer carefully and rested her head on his knees so that her back wouldn't have to touch the ground.

 Balsa shifted a little to find a position where the rest of her injuries didn't hurt, then took a deep breath. "I must have slept for an entire day."

 "Yeah."

 "So today is...the seventeenth day of Shasam?"

 Tanda frowned. "Balsa..."

 "Jitan is two days from here on horseback. I have to be able to move by tomorrow morning, or I'll never make it."

 Tanda didn't say anything for a while. The two of them sat in silence, listening to the popping and crackling of the fire.

 Tanda sighed. "I guess we're going, then. We have to find out what happened to the kids—though I'm not sure there's much we can do for them in this state."

 Balsa stayed quiet and simply listened.

 "This whole situation has gotten out of control," Tanda said. "I'm sure that Asra and Chikisa are going to be led before Prince Ihan soon." He sounded bitterly regretful. "Prince Ihan has always tried to help the Tal people, though, so I don't think he'll hurt them. Shihana's probably exploiting both him and the kids for her own purposes."

 Balsa remembered that Asra believed that Talhamaya was a god that punished evil people and helped good people. The Tal people were obviously split down the middle when it came down to what they believed. Asra's mother had given up her lover and fled into hiding; her grief and regret had twisted her interpretation of the god into a potential savior of the Tal people. She'd passed that interpretation down to her children. Asra still believed it.

 Balsa was forced to consider the possibility that Asra would unite with Talhamaya because of her mother's wishes. She could see Asra drunk on power as she slaughtered the wolves in her mind's eye. Asra would transform into the terrible god that controlled that power. She would unleash Talhamaya's wrath on other people, maybe even a lot of them. She would ascend to the heavens surrounded by lightning and clouds and no one would ever be able to touch her again. That was the only future Balsa could see for her now, but she refused to believe that was the only possible future Asra could have.

 "Asra's only twelve years old," Balsa muttered. She remembered how much Asra had cried when Chikisa had judged her in her dreams. She completely understood Asra's way of thinking. She understood the desire to kill the people that she hated. She'd felt the same sense of raw and unrestricted power as Asra before when she'd killed people herself. She remembered falling into her own hatred and darkness and not being able to find a way out.

 Balsa closed her eyes and tried to remember her twelve-year-old self. She had only just started to yearn for constant battle and bloodshed then. She remembered how powerful and alive she'd felt when she attacked the bully that had tormented her for so long. Whenever she'd caught a glimpse of the darkness engulfing her, she'd lashed out violently and explained away her actions using her unfortunate circumstances.

 Balsa knew her true self very well. She was the darkness that lurked at the bottom of her heart. The only reason she didn't simply close her eyes and wait for her life to end was that doing that seemed even worse than the darkness.

 I wonder why I met Asra. 

 She remembered Asra at Martha's store, dressed in clothes the color of sarayu flowers and glowing with happiness. She wasn't like Balsa at all. She was sweet and kind and just a child—but she, too, had a darkness inside her. She hadn't faced it yet, but that didn't mean it wasn't there.

 "Tanda. We're leaving tomorrow night, right?"
Tanda nodded. "We need to be careful. Shihana planned all of this. Sufar told me that she takes the long view of most situations, which means she can probably guess what we're going to do. Her plan involves everyone—the royal family, the Tal people, the other Kashal, Asra and Chikisa, and us. It's like she's playing a game on a vast scale, and all of us are pieces."

 "It doesn't matter to me if Shihana sees all of this as a game or not," Balsa said. She closed her eyes for a few seconds. "Even if it's a game among kings and gods, it doesn't matter." She opened her eyes. "I can't forgive her for manipulating Asra into killing people by using memories of her mother." Balsa's voice became softer as she spoke. "Someone needs to tell Asra how terrifying and evil it is when she kills people. I don't think she understands that."

 Balsa gripped Tanda's arm. "And if no one tells her, she'll fall into the darkness forever." Balsa rested her head against Tanda's shoulder. She couldn't see his face, but he was crying.

 Tanda made no move to wipe his tears away. He supported Balsa in silence and stared at the rough walls of the hut.

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