The Wanderer
Balsa sat at Jiguro's bedside. He was still sweating, but he seemed to be deeply asleep now.
Is there really something wrong with his liver?
Balsa couldn't get a second diagnosis; there were no other doctors near here. All she could do was pray that Jiguro was healthy enough to fight off whatever terrible thing was trying to kill him.
Jiguro's fever came down a little at dawn. Balsa didn't know if the doctor's medicine was effective or if Jiguro was recovering on his own, but recovery was recovery, and Balsa allowed herself to relax a little. She collapsed to the floor and was instantly asleep.
Balsa remained asleep next to Jiguro until the tavern opened and the waitresses arrived. If Balsa and Jiguro didn't work, they wouldn't get paid or be allowed to eat, but neither one of them was in any shape to work. Jiguro slept until the evening, when the waitresses were having a shift change.
"Dad, are you okay? How are you feeling? Do you want something to eat? Does anything hurt?"
Jiguro shifted to look at Balsa. His fever was still there, but significantly decreased, and his skin wasn't slack and pale anymore. He was definitely getting better.
"I'm fine. Don't worry about me." Jiguro rubbed his eyes.
Balsa watched him try to get up and made no move to help him. If he needed help, he would ask.
Jiguro managed to get up on his own. He went to work, and improved slowly over the next few days. Balsa still fretted over him; she couldn't help it. But bodyguards got hurt and sick on the job all the time, and Jiguro wasn't about to let a little lingering weakness prevent him from working.
Balsa had never seen him looking so weak before. It was obvious to her that he still wasn't well. She looked in on him during her own breaks to make sure he was all right. Most late nights were free time for them, so she filled the time with idle chatter about Torogai's hut and past jobs until they went to sleep. She also told him about helping out Tanda's family with the rice harvest when he was gone in the capital, and that she'd seen the strange tolcha grave markers that the Yakoo believed were guardian spirits.
Jiguro never said much, but listening to Balsa made him calm—and he was definitely listening. When she told him about going fishing with Tanda and pushing him into the river, not really on accident, he coughed.
Only...it wasn't a cough. Balsa looked over at him, wide-eyed. Was he laughing?
He didn't laugh for very long, though. He cleared his throat. "Tanda's a good kid."
Balsa wanted to laugh, too. She didn't mind that Jiguro was praising Tanda or anything, but she was never on the receiving end of those words. She wasn't sure why she frowned and said, "He's an idiot. He wasn't catching the fish; he was playing with them!"
Jiguro was still smiling. He blinked and kept his eyes closed for a moment, then opened them, looking Balsa directly in the eyes. "Do you want to live in Torogai's hut?"
Balsa gave him a quizzical expression.
"If you'd rather not keep living like this with me, I'm sure Torogai would take you in. She might complain that it was a bother at first, but she wouldn't mean it."
Balsa felt like she'd just been slapped. A shiver crept up her spine. Her heart was in her throat and her lips trembled slightly. She shook her head. "No way. I'm staying with you."
Jiguro looked up at the ceiling. He wasn't smiling anymore.
The second day after Jiguro's collapse, Sadol went to go visit some of his friends. When he came back, his attitude toward Jiguro was much altered. Two days later, Sadol's son Tonal came to Jiguro and Balsa's room and told them that Sadol had hired a new bodyguard, and that the tavern needed this room free to house them.
"I'm still recovering from my injury," Jiguro said. "Can we rent a different room here for a while? Just until I find new work."
There were no rooms available in the tavern except the small, cramped room in the attic that no one else wanted. Jiguro accepted it and paid to rent it.
Balsa grumbled to Jiguro as she unfolded the mildewy blankets in the attic. "He's a stingy old bastard. If not for you, he would be dead and this tavern would be gone!"
Jiguro lay down on his own bed and sighed deeply. "It's no use saying something like that now."
"I will say it," Balsa insisted. "It's like he completely forgot what you did for him! Who would ever work for a shit-for-brains like that?"
When Jiguro answered, he sounded tired. "You're mistaken."
Balsa frowned. "How?"
Jiguro said nothing. He closed his eyes.
Balsa kept thinking about what he'd said all throughout her work shift, but she couldn't figure out why Jiguro had said she was mistaken. Mistaken about what? Every word she'd said was true.
Maybe dad thinks it's because it's just work? He's a bodyguard, so if he's too sick or injured to work then Sadol doesn't have to keep him on, or something? But if he let dad get better, he could work again... Sadol should be more grateful... Dad defended his life and his tavern that night.
Balsa tried explaining her position to Jiguro again in a more measured way. He nodded.
"Yes, all of that is only right and natural for you to think."
"Then how was I wrong?"
"You're not; not this time. Your rage at Sadol was coloring your opinion. You've calmed down now, and remembered that it's all just work. Sadol pays us; he doesn't have to thank us. And making moral judgements about a client isn't useful or helpful. You probably think I should have talked myself up more, or been rewarded more, but that's not how this business operates."
Balsa stared silently at the floor. She couldn't argue with that, even though she still wanted to. None of this was fair.
Jiguro kept his eyes on the ceiling. "Sadol's gratitude isn't needed, or expected. You understand that, right?"
Balsa glanced sidelong at Jiguro. She understood what he was saying just fine, but she didn't understand why work had to be the way he said it was.
Five days after Jiguro fell ill, he was almost completely well, and started training with the spear again. He spoke to Sadol in the afternoon and came up to his and Balsa's room. He started packing.
"We're heading to Yogo next."
"We are? Are there signs of our pursuers? Are we in danger?"
Jiguro shook his head. "No, I've seen no sign of anyone following us. But we should never stay for too long in one place. I'm planning to stay at Torogai's hut over the winter months."
Jiguro picked up his spear, testing its weight in his hand. "There's a caravan heading to northern Rota, carrying toshal." Toshal was an herb mixed with alcohol that was used for treating wounds. "They're paying well for guards, so I signed on. We'll accompany them to the Traders' Market. We need to leave soon, or the Samal Pass will be buried in snow by the time we head west to Yogo."
"Dad..."
Jiguro adjusted his grip. There was an undercurrent or fear or worry in Balsa's tone that made him look at her. "Is anything wrong?"
"I'm still worried...about you getting sick. Are you all better now?" Her tongue felt like ash in her mouth; she could say no more. It was good news that Jiguro had managed to find a new job already, but caravans that paid well were always high-risk. He'd probably taken the job because it would get them close enough to New Yogo's border for them to make it through the mountain passes before the onset of winter, but she was scared that he had other reasons—reasons that he wasn't telling her.
One week after Jiguro's recovery, he and Balsa left the tavern. They had to leave for the new caravan guarding job at dawn. The waitresses of the tavern popped their heads into the attic room, making sure that Balsa and Jiguro were awake and that they would leave on time.
Mana pressed a bundle wrapped in oiled paper into Balsa's hands. "It's from everyone. We bought you some new clothes. It's not much, but..."
Tears sprang to Balsa's eyes. "Thank you. You didn't have to..."
"You're going on another journey, aren't you? Your sleeves are up to your elbows and your pants are up to your knees! You can't travel like that in winter; you'd freeze. Your dad would probably take care of it, but he's a man's man...I wanted you to have something nice. As things are now, you look like a little boy who's outgrown his clothes."
Balsa had recently cut her hair. She looked down at herself. Mana was right; she did look like a boy, but she didn't consider that a problem. "My hair's easier to wash if it's short, and my clothes are easier to take care of if they're smaller," she said.
Mana exchanged glances with one of the other waitresses. They smiled at one another, exasperated.
"Tsk tsk," Mana clicked her tongue. "You're getting to the age where boys are going to notice you, y'know. Unfortunately, there's no time now for us to teach you everything you need to know... And besides, the clothes we bought you are traveling clothes. Make sure to wash them and take care of them, okay?"
Balsa frowned a little as Mana pulled her into a gentle hug. She heard people stirring downstairs: the tavern was opening. It was almost time for her and Jiguro to leave.
"Take care of yourself," Mana said. "And if you're ever around here again, please come and say hi." Tears glistened on her cheeks. She and Balsa had spent so much time together over the past few months that parting with Balsa caused her genuine pain.
Balsa thanked her, then bowed. She gave Mana her best smile, then followed Jiguro downstairs. She was used to saying goodbye to people...but she, too, was close to crying. She and Jiguro rarely stayed in one place for so long.
Balsa looked over her shoulder after she and Jiguro went up the road a little way. Mana and the other waitresses were outside, waving. Balsa didn't wave. She kept trudging behind Jiguro.
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