Guardian of Heaven and Earth
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New Yogo
Part 2 - Transcending Death
Chapter 4 - Tanda's Arm
The Talsh encampment was a well-ordered place that contained structures that looked far sturdier and stronger than most ordinary buildings in New Yogo. It was hard to believe that the Talsh army had only been camped here for a few days. The camp was ringed with storage wagons and manned by many guards who would warn the larger camp of any surprise attack. A wooden tower rose out of the center of the camp with more sentinels stationed at the top.
There were many wagons lined up outside the camp, preparing to go inside. Balsa and her escort joined this line. The wagons were stripped of their goods efficiently; the wagon owners were then paid a generous price for their goods. Another line led away from the camp to help control traffic.
When the time came for Balsa to pass, a guard thrust his spear out in front of her, blocking her path.
"Wait. You don't look like a farmer." The guard spoke Yogoese with a slight accent.
"I'm a bodyguard for someone who lives here," Balsa said. "We were attacked by bandits and separated during the journey, so I'm searching for him."
The guard nodded, then took her spear and dagger from her. "You'll have to leave these here. You can have them back when you leave the camp."
Balsa nodded, then lined up behind the other people in line to enter the camp. "Everything's so orderly," someone in line said.
There was another spearman guarding the entrance to the camp. He let Balsa and the others pass by without a second glance. Balsa picked her way through the unfamiliar camp while farmers and merchants sold their wares and collected their money. She'd never expected to have to come to a Talsh army camp, of all places, but now that she was here, she was calm. She had to stay focused to look for Tanda.
As Balsa made her way through the crowd of people selling food and supplies, she remembered something that the Talsh spy Hugo had told her.
It 's true that the north is warmer than the south now, when it didn' t used to be. And it's true that New Yogo has a lot of arable land that 's sparsely populated. That' s what the two Talsh princes are really after, I think. The Talsh are great at making a little land stretch a long way when it comes to growing food.
Of course, Rota has some good land, too, but New Yogo has more, and less of it 's been developed. That makes it easy for the Talsh to turn it into whatever they want or need. But Rota ' s included in this plan, too. When the northern lords eventually revolt, their common people and townsfolk will move south and set up farms there. That 's the idea, anyway. Having all this land conquered and used for growing could ensure peace in Talsh for generations to come. There 'd be no more taxes, either.
The Talsh really were enticing the farmers to come to them. They were after New Yogo, at least in part, for its ability to produce food. Even without conquering the nation, Talsh had found a way to receive the harvest of New Yogo's farmers. The farmers didn't hate the Talsh, either, since they were being paid so well.
Chagum... Balsa honestly didn't know what Chagum would think of all this. She wondered if Chagum knew what the Talsh army was really like.
The spring sun was warm, but a shiver went up Balsa's spine as she continued her search.
The sun was low in the west by the time Balsa decided to leave. The guard at the gate returned Balsa's spear and dagger to her. The red light of sunset illuminated the Tohata Mountains in the near distance.
Since Balsa hadn't found Tanda in the camp, the young man who'd agreed to escort her kept his word and left his uncles with their cart. He mounted Balsa's horse behind her and guided her to the place where injured Yogoese soldiers were being treated.
The horse walked slowly on the mountain paths until they reached a village at the foot of the Yauru mountain range. The people in the village hated outsiders and treated Balsa and her escort with contempt as they passed. The men returning from working in the fields glared at them suspiciously.
The young man Balsa was with raised his hand and waved. "Oh! Hey!"
"Racha?" An older man stepped out of the crowd. "I didn't expect to see you here. Who's that with you?"
Racha dismounted and walked over to the man, who was one of his uncles. He explained what he and Balsa were doing here briefly, then gestured for Balsa to come closer. Everyone coming back from the fields gathered around Racha, curious about why he'd come, especially with a stranger.
The men frowned at Racha's explanation, but his uncle simply shrugged. "You can take her there; I don't care. It's a rotten place, though. Be careful."
"I've heard a lot of bad news lately," Balsa said. "I'm prepared. Please take me to where the injured men are."
The other men dispersed. Racha mounted the horse again. His uncle led him and Balsa farther into the village. When they reached the path that led to where the wounded were being kept, Balsa said, "You can go back now. If you're not back to your family before dark, it'll be difficult to walk in the mountains."
"No need to worry about that," Racha said. "I'll just stay with my uncle in the village."
Though it was quite dark, Racha's uncle carried no torch, nor did he suggest going back for one. They traveled for a long while before Balsa saw faint light in the distance. This place was very secluded--maybe so that the Talsh wouldn't find it.
They passed through a narrow river valley and faced a rocky cliff. There was a large, deep depression in the cliff that formed a natural cave.
Balsa smelled smoke and the sickly-sweet scent of rot.
"This is it," Racha's uncle said. "There are four caves in this cliff, all pretty close together. About two hundred injured soldiers are here. We bring food and medicine from the village and a lot of people come here to tend them, but we still lose almost a dozen every day. We have no doctors in the village, and only one medicine man. We just don't have the resources to care for them all."
Balsa bowed to the men in thanks, then entered the nearest cave. The mouth of the cave was partially blocked by bamboo trees. The inside was roomier than she'd expected, but everything was cast in gloom. The smells of rot and smoke intensified as she walked deeper into the cave.
In the very center of the space, there was a stone pit where a large fire crackled and burned. Balsa's eyes adjusted to the low light so that she was able to make out faces. There were many straw mats on the floor near the fire, each holding a sick or injured man. Most were still, but some breathed heavily or groaned in pain.
One man was sitting up very near the fire. He looked up at Balsa, clearly afraid, though not hostile. He said nothing and didn't move as Balsa began her search for Tanda.
There were roughly thirty men in this cave, but Tanda wasn't one of them. Balsa left and went to the next cave, looking at faces one by one. None of them were familiar. She was about to enter the fourth and final cave when Racha and his uncle made their goodbyes; it was pitch dark and they had to return to the village so that their family wouldn't worry. Balsa saw regret and sadness in their faces as they left her.
Balsa entered the last cave and looked over men with blood on their faces and the rags that remained of their clothes. She gritted her teeth.
Along the right side of the cave, there was a man who was covered from head to foot by white cloth. Balsa walked closer to him and stopped. His head shifted toward her.
Balsa’s heart beat faster. She crouched down next to the man and pulled the cloth down to reveal his face. Moving the cloth sent the nauseating smell of rotting flesh directly into her nostrils; she coughed.
There was a fire in this cave just like all the others, but the light was dim here. Still, Balsa stared at the man's face and could not be mistaken.
"Tanda." He was hurt. Balsa stretched out a trembling hand and touched his face. He had a high fever and his lips were withered with dehydration. He twitched at odd intervals, but he wasn't conscious. Even when Balsa touched his face, he didn't open his eyes.
"Who are you?" There was a man behind Balsa. When Balsa turned to look, she saw that the man was very old and holding a basket of herbs.
Balsa stood up and faced the man. "My name is Balsa," she said. "This soldier is my...husband."
The old man appeared surprised. "You came all the way here from the north?"
Balsa nodded.
The old man set his basket of herbs down by the fire, then approached Balsa again. He looked down at Tanda and shook his head sadly. "He's got a day or two at most."
Balsa clenched her fists. She knew just from looking at Tanda that his wounds had taken a terrible toll.
"He was well not too long ago--well enough, anyway. He knows a lot about herbs and helped many of the men here. He managed to treat his own broken legs, but the wound on his arm was infected. Too infected." He pulled the white cloth off of Tanda's left arm, revealing a long, angry red slash that was black along the edges. Tanda's entire arm from wrist to elbow was black.
"If we cut his arm off, we might save his life," Balsa said.
"Cut off his arm? Who’s strong enough for that? It's two bones, and one's very thick, and removing the arm would make him bleed a lot. The young men in the village all refused to even try, for fear that doing it would kill him outright."
Balsa stared hard at Tanda's left arm. It had touched her so many times--to treat her, to comfort her. "I'll cut it off," she said.
"What? You will?" The old man's eyes widened.
"Bring me a pot full of water and a whetsone," Balsa said. "I also need an axe, clean bandages and thick twine. I'll cut the arm off, myself, but I need other people to help me hold him still while I do it. Can the young men from the village help with that?"
The old man opened his mouth, then closed it. He nodded, then left the cave at a rapid pace.
When he was gone, Balsa crouched down next to Tanda and lifted his head into her lap. Tanda shifted a little and opened his eyes. He didn’t seem to see anything at first, but his eyes slowly widened in recognition. His eyebrows drew together.
“Ba-Balsa?”
Balsa nodded. Her throat went dry; she couldn’t speak. Trembling all over, she brought her face close to Tanda’s. “Tanda. Can you hear me?”
Tanda blinked. He was hovering on the border between wakefulness and unconsciousness. Balsa leaned even closer and whispered in his ear, “Tanda, listen. Your left arm is infected and rotten. If I leave it, the arm will poison the rest of your body and kill you.”
“Gangrene,” Tanda said hoarsely.
“Yes, that’s right,” Balsa said. “You understand what’s wrong, so you know what I have to do to save you.”
Tanda’s gaze wavered. His lips trembled. Balsa rested her cheek against his forehead. “I need to cut your arm off.”
Tanda started to cry. He lifted his right arm with great effort and rested his palm on Balsa’s back as if he were trying to comfort her. Balsa ground her teeth. She hadn’t realized it until just that moment, but she was crying, too.
The old herbalist returned to the cave with Racha. Racha came close to Balsa and whispered, “Are you really going to do it? Are you sure?”
Balsa’s only answer was a nod. Racha handed her a sharpened axe and a whetstone.
“Do you have any pusam?” Balsa asked.
“Yes,” he said, “but it’s a laxative. I fail to see how it would be helpful here.”
“Tanda regained consciousness,” Balsa said. “Soaking the herb in hot water with akal makes a soup that might help him feel less pain.”
“Akal is an anesthetic,” the old herbalist said. “I do have that. He asked for pusam in his fever, but he could never tell me why.”
“Please bring both herbs,” Balsa said. “We need to make a soup and have him drink it.”
The old herbalist mixed the herbs while Balsa sharpened the axe until she cut her own hands in the effort. She did the same with her dagger before washing it thoroughly and sticking it into the fire.
“Racha, help me,” Balsa said. “We need him to be near the fire.”
Balsa and Racha lifted the straw mat Tanda was on very gently and set it down close to the fire. Balsa removed his shirt and set it aside, exposing the blackened arm. She removed the scabbard of her short spear, revealing a long length of strong twine that she sometimes used for emergency repairs. She tied the twine painfully tight above Tanda’s elbow, creating a tourniquet to prevent excessive bleeding.
The old herbalist finished making Tanda’s medicine. Balsa washed the axe carefully, then placed it in the fire next to her knife. She helped Tanda swallow the medicine, then said, “Hold him down tight. If he moves during this, I might hurt him more.”
Balsa removed the axe from the fire. While Racha and the herbalist held Tanda still, Balsa made a practice cut in the air just over Tanda’s elbow, then brought the blade of the axe down strongly through Tanda’s arm.
When it was all over, Racha left the cave and threw up. The old herbalist followed him outside, wiping cold sweat from his forehead.
“I’ve never met a woman like that before...”
Balsa had cut off Tanda’s arm without a scrap of hesitation. The moment the arm was off, she’d tied another length of twine above Tanda’s elbow. The hot axe had completely cauterized the wound, which didn’t bleed as much as the herbalist had expected. She was more skilled at treating battle wounds than anyone he’d ever seen before. He hoped that her steady hand and unflinching resolve would be enough to save Tanda’s life.
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