Guardian of Heaven and Earth - Kanbal - Part 1 Chapter 1 - The Wisdom of Guards

 Guardian of Heaven and Earth
-
Kanbal

(Book 9 of the Guardian of the Spirit Series)

Author: Uehashi Nahoko

Translator: Ainikki the Archivist

 

 Part 1 - To Kanbal

Chapter 1 - The Wisdom of Guards

      

    The vast blue sky spread out to the horizon line.

    The blizzard had raged for more than three days, but now, it was finally over. The bright sunshine felt warm and pleasant. Chagum and Balsa were staying at an inn that was usually frequented by guard escorts; light shone in through the dining hall's single window. Breakfast was Rotan unleavened bread called bam fried with butter in the hall's inset fireplace. Balsa placed a jar of honey on a low table. She layered honey on top of her buttered bread and bit into it, then frowned at Chagum. He was in the corner of the room, staring out the window.

    "Bam's ready!" Balsa said.

    Chagum blinked, then smiled. He crossed the room and retrieved his own portion of bam, then started to eat. The right side of his face was still bandaged, so eating was somewhat difficult. Still, his wound felt much better than it had even a day or so ago. They'd stopped in Toluan to see a doctor; whatever he'd put on the wound had brought the swelling down.

    Balsa was concerned about scarring and had wanted it stitched up, but the doctor had said that was unnecessary. Now that the wound was clean, it should heal fine on its own. There would be a scar either way; the doctor had seemed to think that stitching the wound closed might make the scar more pronounced.

    Chagum didn't really care if the wound left a scar. He'd survived an assassination attempt; that struck him as more important than cosmetic details. If he were still the Crown Prince of New Yogo, it would be unthinkable for him to ever have an obvious scar on his face, but he'd faked his own death and wasn't considered part of the imperial family anymore, so he considered the wound irrelevant except when it pained him. He dipped his bam in honey and ate slowly. He had never cared much for butter or cheese.

    Balsa didn't know this; she seemed shocked when he passed on the butter. "Why not try it? It's delicious."

    Chagum wrinkled his nose and felt the edges of his wound stretch a little. "I can't stand the smell. I don't like goat meat or mutton, either. It all smells unappetizing to me. I've never understood why people eat that stuff, but I guess it's tasty to most people."

    Balsa nodded slowly in understanding. Goat and sheep weren't generally eaten in New Yogo. He was probably more used to eating beef, pork, and chicken. Since he'd been raised apart from the common people, he'd never gotten used to the smell of sheep or goats, either. Balsa remembered leaving her home village and crossing the mountains with Jiguro to New Yogo. She hadn't been able to eat anything at first. She'd been urgently hungry, but everything had smelled and tasted terrible.

    Most people thought that the Rotans and Kanbalese people were closely related. The story went that they were once part of the same culture and nation, but that Kanbal's high mountains had caused separation and differences over the course of many generations. Kanbal's food, language and social structure were all very similar to Rota's, but New Yogo's was completely different; the Yogoese had emigrated from the southern continent, bringing their strange language and cuisine with them.

    Chagum had been raised carefully as an imperial prince in the palace at Kosenkyo; it was only natural that he would hate the sharp and unfamiliar smell of sheep or goat milk. But Chagum wasn't a picky eater in most respects. He also traveled and slept on the cold hard floors of cheap inns without complaint. It was hard to believe he'd ever been a spoiled and pampered Crown Prince.

    Even the taste of the honey was somewhat unfamiliar to Chagum. He looked at Balsa as he ate with impatience burning in his eyes. "We can't stay long," he said. "We should be on our way as soon as we're finished eating."

    Balsa frowned a little. "It's been a few days since the blizzard, so I expect more guards will come to this place soon." She was thinking of hiring a few more guards to help her and Chagum cross the border. She doubted that the Talsh assassin she'd defeated had been alone--and there would likely be others before long, anyway. It seemed that Chagum had seen something he shouldn't have: the face of the Talsh spy who was closest to the King of Kanbal.

    Balsa had learned from another spy, Hugo, that Talsh assassins had been given orders to prevent Chagum from reaching Kanbal. Balsa found it hard to believe that this task had been entrusted to a single assassin. She expected traps and ambushes in the near future if they kept traveling on the road.

    In fact, she knew that there were more enemy forces out there, and that they might be after her and Chagum already. The Kashal had intercepted and either killed or severely wounded a group of assassins. The Talsh had split their forces, sending one group after Chagum and his Rotan guard escort; the other group had done battle with the Kashal. There might be survivors among the Talsh forces. If Balsa were in their position, she would rush to Kanbal's border with Rota and wait for Chagum there.

    The pass that led into Rota to the north was steep and difficult to navigate during winter. It was called Haurazu Pass. The way was much frequented by bandits, especially at a deep gorge called Usal, where they liked to camp and hide. It was the perfect place to spring a trap for Chagum; Balsa knew it.

    Ordinarily, she would hire guards from Makal fortress in northern Rota to help defend her and Chagum on the way to Kanbal, but there were none to be hired: every spare guard and soldier was needed for Rota's impending civil war.

    Balsa had asked around about guards for hire when she and Chagum had stopped in Toluan; she'd hoped to find several of her colleagues--and possibly even friends--willing to help them. She hadn't found anyone trustworthy and strong enough to hire on. It was almost as if the Talsh assassins had swept through Toluan and picked it clean of extra guards; the few that remained were there to guard the town, or were too green and inexperienced to be of much help.

    The guard shortage was due to the Talsh assassins, in a way. Reports of recent attacks on the road meant that every traveling merchant in Rota was looking to hire extra protection.

    It seemed that Balsa would have to protect Chagum herself, without help. They had almost made it to the border: they had no choice but to cross now.

    Balsa had crossed Usal gorge as a guard escort as part of a caravan before. She and her charges had simply blended in with other merchants and guards on the road, so they'd mostly avoided notice. She'd worn a Kanabalese-style hooded coat called a karru to conceal her face, plus a shuma to keep her warmer and further conceal her identity. Looking like any other traveler, or a native just passing through, reduced the chances of being attacked.

    Chagum seemed to guess a little of what she was thinking. "We could hire guards here, maybe, but they probably wouldn't want to leave until tomorrow. That's too late. We don't even know what the weather will be like tomorrow. We should move while we still can." He frowned, then leaned forward toward Balsa. "The most important thing now isn't my personal safety. It's time. We must reach Kanbal as quickly as possible." His voice echoed in the dining hall. There was no one in it except for him and Balsa.

    "We'll need more protection if the Talsh assassins find us," Balsa said.

    Chagum shook his head. "If we make it too late, the outcome will be the same as it would if they killed us. If Kanbal doesn't send reinforcements, and soon, countless Rotan soldiers will die. Listen, Balsa: we have to leave, now. I'll go alone if I have to." His face was bright red; his eyes displayed his clear irritation.

    Balsa stared at Chagum for a long moment. He'd been all but banished by his father when he'd been sent to Sangal--and in Sangal, the Talsh had captured him and taken him south to their strange continent. After he'd returned from there by ship, he'd undertaken a dangerous sea journey, mostly alone. He would travel alone again if he had to. The lives of the people on the northern continent weighed heavily on his mind.

    It was winter: no one traveled between Kanbal and Rota in winter. Even most traveling merchants dug in their heels and waited for spring.

    Balsa sighed deeply. "Fine. We'll go now." She packed up some fire-baked fruit candies called jocum and dried meat into her pack, along with the other supplies she'd bought for the journey over the mountains. Chagum's preparations were already complete. They left the inn to find their horses a little before noon.

    They had traded their swift-running horses for sturdy pack horses with thick legs and necks at Toluan. Their manes were very long and their coats were thick: they were ideal for traveling in the mountains. Chagum had selected his horse personally at the market in Toluan. "I like this one. His eyes remind me of Tanda's."

    Balsa had burst out laughing. Chagum took to calling the horse "Tanda."

    "Why did you have to name him that?" Balsa muttered as she walked. They found their horses; Balsa reached out and petted her horse's mane. 

    "Because he didn't have a name," Chagum said simply. "What's your horse's name?"

    "He doesn't have one."

    "Why not?" Chagum asked.

    "When you name an animal," Balsa said, "parting with them gets that much harder." Chagum was standing behind Balsa; she didn't see the indescribably sad look that he gave her.

    Both Tanda and No-Name were calm and well-behaved horses that could find their footing and climb uphill without any trouble on the steep path out of the village. They used their hips and backs to brace and support themselves when the road suddenly worsened--and sometimes vanished altogether. They were fully in the mountains now. 

    By the time the sun set, Chagum was completely exhausted. His knees could barely support him when he dismounted. Balsa was much older than he was, but she was also used to traveling in the mountains; she didn't seem tired at all. Chagum glanced sidelong at her and sighed. He was allowed to be a little jealous.

    The road was only going to get steeper and narrower as they got closer to Kanbal. The trees they saw were all covered in a thick layer of snow. The wind was cold and sharp enough to cut; when it dislodged snow from the trees, the resounding echo of the snow hitting the ground reverberated in all directions.

    It was hard to believe that such a poorly maintained road was used to legally cross over into Kanbal. Sometimes, Kanbalese laborers used this road to reach Rota or New Yogo for work, but Balsa and Chagum encountered no one. The first sign of life they discovered was near a riverbank when they left the main path for a narrower-side road. The riverbank was full of hoof prints from at least a dozen horses. Balsa guessed that the horses had passed through a few hours ago, but the prints were as clear and crisp as if they'd been freshly made.

    "These look like the tracks of riders that get sent ahead of a caravan," Balsa said. "I guess they stopped here this afternoon."

    Chagum looked down at the tracks and frowned. "How do you know they were with a caravan? Couldn't the assassins or bandits have stopped here?"

    "You can tell by the tracks," Balsa said. "These horses were heavy. Their movement pattern is scattered. There's been no attempt to hide their tracks or conceal where they went from here--both of which I would expect from bandits or assassins."

    Balsa and Chagum continued on their way. Late on their second day of travel, the path evened out, then began to descend gently down. They would pass over Usal gorge if they kept going this way and didn't turn aside. The trees to the left began to thin out. When Balsa could see the gorge in the distance, she stopped her horse.

    "What's wrong?" Chagum asked.

    Balsa put a finger to her lips. She could hear voices--not many, but one of them sounded like a child's. "The voices aren't coming from the gorge," she whispered. "They're in the trees. They're probably the caravan that stopped at the riverbank this afternoon."

     She turned to the right and entered the trees with Chagum near her. "They have children with them, so there's probably no danger," she said, "but we still need to be careful." Crossing the gorge was dangerous at the best of times. Balsa found it hard to believe that the caravan intended to do that when they had children to protect.

    “Let’s announce ourselves,” she said severely. “Stay behind me.”

    The fact that this group had children with them and was taking such a dangerous route through the mountains smacked of inexperience. Balsa didn’t want to get caught up in their problems if she could help it. Chagum’s safety was her primary concern; everything else was secondary. She couldn’t completely dismiss the idea that bandits could be using children as bait to lure people closer.

    Balsa sighed and turned her horse toward the treeline. She followed a line of hoof prints forward in the direction of the voices.

    Some minutes later, people and horses came into view. They had found a natural cave and chosen to make camp there. The cave amplified their voices so that Balsa was able to hear them from far away.

    The voices suddenly ceased. A stooped figure came out to observe Balsa and Chagum as they drew closer to the cave. Balsa counted about four people milling around the cave, but the one who had come out to greet them was armed with a drawn sword. He was probably a caravan guard.

    “Halt and declare yourselves!” the guard shouted. Another guard emerged from the trees behind him; he’d been hidden before. The first guard bore a short sword, but the second had unsheathed his longsword and was coming closer.

    The guard who had called out was familiar to her. She threw back the hood of her coat and removed her shuma face covering to reveal herself and look at him more closely.

    He squinted at her. He was older than the other guard and had a competent, seasoned air. “Balsa?” he asked. “Is that you?”

    Balsa smiled and dismounted. “Gol,” she said. “I had no idea you were still in this business.”

    Gol put a hand over his mouth and laughed. “Well, I wanted to retire, but then my son said he wanted to be a guard escort like me...and there’s a war on, have you heard?” His eyes sparkled. “Anyway, this is my son’s first job, so I decided to come with. He still has a lot to learn.”

    A young man emerged from the trees and frowned at Gol. “Don’t talk so loud,” he said in a tone of irritation. “No one needs to know this is my first job, dad.”

    The young man sheathed his sword and looked Balsa up and down with his arms crossed.

    Gol smiled. “Anyway. What good luck to run into you here, Balsa. Are you planning to cross the gorge?”

    Balsa nodded. “I’m headed to Kanbal. But, Gol--do you really intend to cross Usal gorge with just a few guards? You have families with children to protect.”

    Gol frowned. “This family has, ah, unusual circumstances. They’re traveling merchants and made a few bad business deals, so they were forced to flee. They’re planning to make up their loss in Kanbal by selling dried fruit and buying okkul to sell in Rota--assuming they have enough left to do that. The father got in deep with gambling debts.” 

    Okkul was a type of flower that grew high on the mountain slopes of Kanbal. They were hardy plants that could thrive even in the middle of Kanbal’s winter. The plants were fairly common and cheap in Kanbal, but were used to make valuable medicines in Rota, so the family’s strategy to acquire okkul here and sell it in Rota wasn’t a bad one.

    Their decision to travel in winter was considerably more dubious. Most merchants didn’t travel in winter, so any that did were easy pickings for the bandits on the road. There were also wolves in Rota and southern Kanbal that attacked caravans occasionally. Balsa had heard of caravans who risked such dangers for profits before, but this caravan was a family. It seemed foolish to risk their lives solely for money.

    “They got driven out of their home village for their debts at the beginning of winter,” Gol said. “Otherwise, they wouldn’t be here. They couldn’t just leave the children behind, so the entire family is here.” He shrugged. “It’s not idea, but it’s how things are.”

    Balsa picked up on a hidden undercurrent of bitterness in Gol’s words. He was no longer a young man, and his son was new and inexperienced. They probably had to take whatever jobs they could get; no one was looking to hire an elderly guard and his greenhorn son. Gol knew as well as she did how dangerous this area was, but he had no choice but to risk traveling through it for the sake of his livelihood.

    Balsa was so absorbed in her conversation with Gol that she didn’t notice that another man had emerged from the cave until he was very close to Gol. He held a child in his arms. A young woman peeked out at her from behind a tree. The whole family looked emaciated and worn-out.

    Balsa sighed. “I’ll scout the area first and tell you if it’s safe. If it is, we’ll accompany you across the gorge. If not, I’ll look for another way for us all to cross. Will they be ready to move when you say?”

    Gol nodded firmly in agreement with her plan, then faced the destitute merchant family. “You heard the plan,” he said. “Balsa is an incredible guard. If we stick with her, we stand a much better chance of crossing the gorge safely.”

    Balsa smiled a little.

    “I’m not sure what the plan is,” Chagum whispered in her ear. He hadn’t understood all the words that she and Gol had exchanged. “What did you mean by ‘ready to move?’” 

    She had used a guard slang term, ‘hoi,’ to describe what she’d meant to Gol. She faced Chagum and said, “’Hoi’ means that you throw away everything you can’t carry and just run. It may be something we have to do when we reach the gorge, so I asked if Gol was prepared for that. If the merchants toss aside their goods, bandits will slow down to take them. They might not give chase at all. There are more bandit thieves than bandit murderers.”

    Chagum blinked in surprise. “They’re merchants. Can they really throw away everything they own so easily, even to save their own lives?”

    Gol’s son overheard him and spat. “I think it’s stupid. Doing that would be cowardly. Why not stand and fight, for their lives and their goods both? But dad doesn’t listen to me about stuff like that.”

    Gol frowned severely and clapped his son sharply on the ear. “You’re the stupid one here. Do you realize who she is? That’s Balsa the short spear wielder. She’s been a famous guard escort since before you were weaned.”

    Gol’s son shifted his gaze to Balsa. He cleared his throat. “Uh...thank you for agreeing to fight with us. I’ve told Dohal, the man we’re guarding, that we might have to cut and run at any time. It’s just something I’d rather not do.”

    Dohal looked back and forth between Balsa and Gol with a slightly confused expression. “Well, I don’t think it’s stupid. Any bandits will go for the goods and leave us alone. I can’t imagine that most bandits are hard-hearted enough to kill children.”

    Balsa shook her head a little. “Don’t misunderstand me, please. I asked you to be prepared for that situation, but I intend to do my best to protect you, your family and your goods. Even if you need to cut and run, I’ll stay back to see how many there are. It might be possible to fight them off. Even if it’s not, it’s critical for us to know their numbers if we’re going to escape successfully.”

    Dohal and Gol’s son looked at her in amazement. Even Chagum seemed surprised.

    “If there are a lot of bandits and they’re well-armed, the three of us won’t be able to fight them off,” Balsa said matter-of-factly. “But it may not be as bad as all that. If it turns into a battle, we need to be prepared for that, as well. It’s winter now, which is a lean time for bandits just like everyone else. They might be miserable and starving and fighting for their lives, just like we are.”

    Gol nodded in agreement.

    “Anyway, the first thing we need to know is how many there are up ahead. Gol and I will go scout and determine their numbers. If there are only a few and we can fight them off, that’s what we’ll do. We’ll set up a signal to let you know if we’ve fought them off and it’s safe so that you can all follow behind us.”

    She paused, searching the faces around her for signs of understanding. When no one asked a question, she continued, “While you’re running, discard a few of your goods along the side of the road.”

    Dohal frowned. “Huh? Why?”

    “Just because we defeat the ones we can see doesn’t mean there aren’t more,” Balsa said patiently. “The goods might lure them out--maybe a leader, or maybe another band--and slow them down. We need to do our best to account for all the bandits that may be in the area so that we aren’t ambushed at the actual gorge. If that happens, I doubt we’ll make it across.”

    She paused, then said, “It’s possible that the bandits won’t be tempted. They’re thieves, after all--and they can take everything after they kill us. But they also might not be cold-blooded murderers.” She frowned. “Here’s what I think we should do. We should drop the goods as planned and keep running. We’ll make it look like the bandits allowed us to get away in order to take the goods for themselves. If we play it right, we may be able to get them to fight one another.”

    Dohal looked confused again, but he didn’t interrupt.

    “Generally, bandits are greedy, and jealous of one another’s property. If the boss thinks that his men let valuable prey escape just to fight over some trinkets, he’d be furious. We can use their internal dissension to buy us time to get away.”

    Gol nodded in agreement with this idea. “We’ll need two bags of dried fruit to throw in order to lure them in. I know the loss affects your livelihood, Dohal, but it’s surely worth your family’s lives.”

 

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