Traveler of the Blue Road
Part 2 - Sailing into a Trap
Chapter 1 - The Voyage
Chagum stood on the deck of a ship with the wind blowing his hair back. The sails above him flapped and fluttered constantly in the strong, salt-smelling breeze. The pure white of the sails contrasted sharply with the deep blue of the surrounding sea.
Chagum narrowed his eyes and looked up at the sky. No matter where he went, the sky was always the same. He found that vaguely comforting.
“Did you sleep well?” Tosa had noticed him.
“Yes, I slept very well.” Chagum squinted up at his grandfather. He’d grown a lot that year, but Tosa was still taller than him. He was the tallest man on the ship, which made him easy to find no matter where he stood on the deck. He stood firm with his feet planted on the deck, his white hair fluttering in the sea breeze. Until this voyage, Chagum had never seen Tosa in this role: as the captain of his own ship.
“I sleep better here than I ever did at the palace,” Chagum said. “The sound of the waves is very soothing.”
Tosa smiled at him. “You aren’t a sailor, but you’ve already found your sea legs. You’re definitely my grandson.” He smiled again.
Chagum and Tosa were following the bulk of the main naval force that had previously been sent to Sangal as reinforcements. The ship they stood on was much smaller and faster than a typical warship or cargo ship.
When Chagum had first caught up to Tosa and told him about the Mikado’s orders, he’d been shocked. After receiving Chagum’s message, Tosa had gone belowdecks and shut himself in his cabin alone for hours. But there was no trace of anxiety or distress on his face now.
Chagum felt strangely liberated, like a flying kite whose string had snapped--but he was not entirely free. He was still compelled to do everything he could to prevent the navy from sailing into a trap.
Even if Chagum and Tosa managed to survive this campaign, there was no future for either of them at the imperial court. They could never go home.
Chagum’s protectors for this journey were two of the Mikado’s Hunters, Jin and Yun. Both men had been ordered alternately to either kill Chagum or protect him over the years, so their presence on this voyage was somewhat ambivalent. Chagum understood their dual role as both assassins and protectors very well. It was possible that they’d been assigned to him as a formality so that his leaving court alone would look less suspicious; it was also possible that they’d been sent to kill him.
Chagum tried not to worry about whether or not he’d be assassinated. They were all on the same ship, so he couldn’t run or hide anywhere. Jin and Yun had protected him often enough in the past. He wanted to trust them, but the Mikado’s orders were absolute. They would have to carry those orders out no matter what they were. Begging for mercy would be useless.
Chagum and Tosa had to save as many people as they could, even if death awaited them afterwards. The sailors of New Yogo’s fleet were innocent; they didn’t deserve to be sacrificed on the altar of the Mikado’s ambition. Chagum also hoped that Ruin, the servant who’d accompanied him, would make it home somehow. He didn’t want anyone else to suffer because of him.
If Jin and Yun planned to force some kind of confrontation, they would probably do it after New Yogo’s forces caught up with Sangal’s navy. If a trap really was waiting for them, they’d probably encounter it somewhere near the island of Kalsh. Jin and Yun could easily use the chaos caused by the trap to make Chagum’s death look like an accident.
Chagum felt strangely empty--devoid of thought and emotion. He was afraid, but the fear didn’t paralyze him. The ship cutting through the white-frothing blue waves was so beautiful. Bright sunlight played over the hull and shone off the fish that leaped from the surface of the water.
If only Shuga were here, he thought. He’ d probably know the name of all these fish species and how much they sell for at the market.
Tears formed at the corners of Chagum’s eyes. A tear fell down his cheek and was blown away by the wind. Tosa looked away from him to give him some privacy while he cried.
Shuga had taught Chagum so much, but it would all come to nothing. Chagum should have reacted more maturely to Princess Saluna’s letter. His rage had made him lash out without thinking of the consequences. He pursed his lips.
He never thought his father would be so cruel. He would have behaved differently if he’d known how far his father was willing to go. But he’d misread the entire situation from the start. The Mikado had manipulated him easily. This was already a trap for him, regardless of what Sangal did.
He could almost hear Shuga scolding him: “Your Majesty, what were you thinking?! Were you even thinking at all?”
Someday--if he lived--Chagum would get the time to indulge in reflection and regrets, but he couldn’t undo what he’d already done.
Chagum sighed deeply. He still felt strangely blank and empty.
“Are you going to run away?” Tosa asked.
Chagum laughed. “Well, I guess I could float and follow a current. I did learn to swim in the lake behind the mountain villa.”
Tosa shook his head grimly. “Swimming in that lake and swimming in the ocean are entirely different. If you ever do fall in, focus on floating. If you flounder around too much, you’ll sink.
“There are a few small islands around Kalsh. There are also reefs and shoals that are dangerous for ships as well as swimmers. A number of currents intersect near Kalsh, making that part of the ocean difficult to navigate.”
Chagum’s expression became serious. It seemed that it would also be easy for Jin and Yun to take advantage of an accident at sea. They wouldn’t even have to kill him--all they’d have to do was throw him overboard. As Chagum listened to his grandfather tell him how to survive if he was stranded in the middle of the ocean, he remembered something Princess Saluna had told him at the end of his last visit to Sangal.
“I’ve heard about a girl who sailed from Rasu to the Moon Palace all alone,” he said.
Tosa frowned. “That’s probably just a tale. One girl wouldn’t be able to sail such a distance without help.”
Chagum shook his head. “It’s not a tale; it’s true. She was one of the Rassharou people.”
Tosa smiled a little and nodded in understanding. “I see. She was born on the sea. Perhaps such a journey would be possible for her.”
“Have you met any of the Rassharou, grandfather?"
“I have. They stop at the fishing villages on Nayoro peninsula sometimes. The Rassharou don’t respect national borders, and they have no enemies. The sea is their home.”
Chagum looked out at the ocean. It was so deep and dark that he couldn’t see the bottom. His grandfather’s words echoed inside his mind. What would it be like to live on the sea and ignore the borders between nations?
The fleet entered the warmer, shallower water surrounding the Sangal peninsula a few days later. Islands appeared in the middle distance, rising up out of waves that sparkled brightly in the sun. The water closest to these islands was a pale aquamarine blue that Chagum had never seen before. He saw beaches full of white sand and green forests thick with tropical vegetation from his high vantage point on the ship’s deck.
The weather had gotten warmer as the voyage progressed, so Chagum no longer wore his coat, choosing to dress himself like the other sailors instead. The shirts and shorts they wore were made of a light white fabric. Chagum would have preferred to go shirtless like the rest of the sailors on board, but Tosa had scolded him when he’d first tried it. He didn’t like how it would appear to their own men and to outsiders, since Chagum was the Crown Prince. He also worried about Chagum getting severely sunburned.
So Chagum wore a shirt without complaining, but he thought his grandfather’s overanxious concern was a little silly. They were on the ocean, hundreds of miles from New Yogo; his rank really shouldn’t matter here. He couldn’t spend too much time with the other sailors, anyway; most of them were scared that they’d go blind if they looked him in the eyes. Even when they had messages for him, they kept their eyes cast down. Chagum’s servant, Ruin, suffered from terrible seasickness and spent most of his time belowdecks.
I don ’t think anyone would look at me even if I was naked, Chagum thought. He laughed to himself.
The sailors didn’t look at Chagum, but he often observed them while they were working. When he observed their quick, efficient movements, he was a little jealous. He would have liked to be a sailor. He could have spent the days talking and working with the others instead of sitting by himself and being bored.
Tosa seemed to sense the restlessness in him; he spent a portion of each day teaching Chagum about the ocean and sailing just as if he was a new sailor that had recently joined the crew. He showed Chagum how to mark time and the distance to nearby islands by using the placement of the sun. At night, he pointed out constellations and taught Chagum how to steer the ship in the dark.
Chagum also spent part of every day writing a long letter to his mother. He hadn’t been able to say goodbye to her before leaving for Sangal. He was afraid of dying, but he was also strangely at peace with the idea of his life ending. He often wondered why he’d even been born. The understanding that he would never have to go back to the palace and live that life again felt like being freed from prison shackles.
He was a little ashamed of how resigned he felt toward his own death. He should probably try to fight harder in his own defense, but the only people he truly felt sorry for were the few friends he had in the palace, like his mother, Shuga, and Mishuna. When he thought about what would happen to them with him gone, it hurt to breathe.
The flaws in New Yogo’s system of government became painfully obvious after his adulthood ceremony, but whenever he suggested changes, those suggestions were met with contempt by his father and other government officials. Those who attempted to help Chagum advance his agenda earned nothing but the Mikado’s ire. Whenever Chagum tried to make a move, he was immediately thwarted. The more he struggled, the more trapped he felt.
One day, your time will come. We must wait and hope for that time.
Shuga had said something like that to him more times than he could count, but Chagum was difficult to encourage. The strain of maintaining his pure facade while being unable to change anything at all gradually wore down his spirit. Everything he saw and heard in the palace only added to his distress. He felt like a beetle confined to a small box with the air slowly running out.
And now Chagum had been banished--sent to his death as an act of retaliation.
I’m sure my mother and Shuga are worried sick.
He couldn’t even leave behind a letter for Shuga, who had worked so hard in educating him. Receiving a letter from Chagum now would worsen Shuga’s standing at court. He included some of the things he wanted to say to Shuga in his letter to his mother in the hope that his words would provide some comfort to them when he was gone.
One night, there was a loud knock on the door to Chagum’s cabin.
“Your Majesty,” Tosa said from the other side of the door.
Chagum rubbed his eyes and sat up. Ruin, who was sleeping in the corner of the room, quickly stood up as soon as he realized Chagum was awake. He gave Chagum an uncertain look, glancing between him and the door.
Chagum nodded to Ruin to indicate that he should let Tosa in. Ruin opened the door and led Tosa into the cabin.
Tosa immediately apologized when he noticed that Chagum had still been asleep.
Chagum shook his head. “After a long day with the wind in my face, I fell asleep almost immediately, so I feel fine now. Please tell me why you came.”
“It’s not an emergency, but the sea looks...strange. I wanted you to take a look and tell me what you thought.”
Chagum’s eyes lit up. “I’ll go see. Show me.”
Ruin helped him dress. “Apparently it’s a strange sight,” Chagum said. “Do you want to come up and see it with me, Ruin?”
Ruin frowned. “I’d rather not, Your Majesty.” Ruin clearly hated the sea.
“All right. Feel free to stay here and rest,” Chagum said.
The smile Ruin gave him expressed genuine relief. “Thank you, Your Majesty. I shall remain here.”
Chagum and Tosa headed up to the deck together. It was still dark; the sky overhead was a sheet of glittering stars. Chagum had often stood on the deck at night during this voyage, but the sky had never been this clear before. The moon was almost full and very bright. The quality of the moonlight made the deck look like it was covered in a fine layer of frost.
“It’s there,” Tosa said, pointing to the upper deck. There were no other sailors nearby. Tosa smiled, climbed up to the upper deck and looked down at the sea.
When Chagum saw what he was looking at, he gasped.
In the waves churning around the ship’s prow, Chagum saw faint flecks of blue-green light glowing brightly in the dark. The more agitated water that the ship had disturbed with its passage glowed even brighter than the rest of the ocean.
Chagum extended the scope of his vision and saw more glowing flecks floating on the waves surrounding the ship on every side. The ship left a glowing trail in its wake. Chagum thought the ship was like a comet in a sea full of floating stars.
It was beautiful, but also a little frightening. “Grandfather, where does this light come from?”
“Sandworms,” Tosa said, “though I’ve never seen so many in one place before.”
“Sandworms?”
“They’re an insect that lives in the water and on beaches. They look like tiny grains of sand, but they glow while they’re in the water. The Rassharou often use them to fish at night.”
Chagum found it hard to believe that all those tiny glowing points of light were insects. “What about that big blob of light, right there?”
“That’s probably a fish. Such a large concentration of sandworms causes anything underwater to light up like that. Fishermen in New Yogo call sandworms urora sura, the shooting stars of the sea. They always clap for joy when they see them. They’re rare in the north. Many people think they’re good luck.”
Something wet and slimy passed over Chagum’s cheek. He stepped back, recoiling a little in surprise. Tosa was still speaking, but his voice seemed to come from far away.
A light shone from Chagum’s forehead. He suddenly heard another voice calling out to him.
But it wasn’t a voice, exactly. Chagum recognized the call as the same feeling he’d experienced as a child while hosting the egg of the water spirit. All he wanted to do was go home. He smelled the water of Nayugu, vivid and intense; the air around him was like the charged air that followed a lightning strike.
Chagum felt like he was standing in two places: part of him remained on the deck of the ship with his grandfather while another part of him sank deep into Nayugu’s water. Everyone else on the ship--and the ship itself--were also submerged in Nayugu’s bright blue water.
Chagum heard a sound like a thousand bells ringing at once. The water around him was so bright that it appeared to be shot through with bright afternoon sunlight. Chagum looked up at the light and froze.
Far above the sails, all the way up in the sky, he saw a bright blue trail like a river of light. It looked like a tightly clustered trail of stars extending as far as his eyes could see--but the stars were moving. Moving, slowly but surely, from the south to the north. Towards home.
Chagum’s eyes widened. That’s not a river, and those aren ’t stars. Those are living creatures, and they’ re moving. The reflection of their migration was reflected on the surface of Nayugu’s ocean.
The sound of bells was almost unbearably loud in Chagum’s ears. When he turned around to identify the source of the sound, he saw the face of a Yona Ro Gai--one of Nayugu’s water dwellers. Its hair was like seaweed and its eyes were huge and hyper-alert like those of a fish. It was looking directly at him.
Slurred syllables reached Chagum through Nayugu’s water; the Yona Ro Gai was speaking. “It’s spring,” it said. More voices called out to him, all saying the same thing: “It’s spring. It’s spring.” Their voices surrounded him in a lively chorus like a celebratory song. Bubbles streamed from their mouths, covering Chagum completely.
“Your Majesty?”
Tosa’s voice snapped Chagum out of Nayugu. He wiped sweat that smelled like the sea from his forehead.
“Is something wrong?” Tosa asked. He sounded worried.
Chagum took a deep breath and looked up at his grandfather. “I think my imagination’s playing tricks on me,” Chagum said. His breathing steadied as he spoke. “I’m sorry if I startled you. I’m fine.”
He knew that this part of the ocean where all the sandworms had gathered was closely connected to Nayugu. The chorus of Yona Ro Gai voices echoed in his ears.
It’ s spring in Nayugu. What does that mean? He thought about some of the strange rumors he’d heard about before leaving the palace and smiled. I wish Tanda and Shuga were here so I could tell them all about this...
He always felt a little foggy and dazed after seeing Nayugu, but he didn’t really mind the feeling. He had many memories of Nayugu; those memories were connected to experiences he never wanted to forget. He’d managed to free himself from his role as a prince solely because of Nayugu, even if only for a brief time. He’d seen Nayugu many times, but now...
Chagum looked up at the impossibly clear and starry sky. Now, it’ s the end. There are only a few nights left.
He wasn’t afraid. When he died, his soul could return to Nayugu at long last. Part of himself, at least, would be able to go home.
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