The Wanderer
The morning bell started ringing. The sun climbed in the sky as Jiguro and Balsa walked. It was a clear autumn day.
Jiguro stopped in front of a large building roofed with shiny red shingles. This was an employment agency that matched bodyguards and caravan guards with clients. The yard and the road outside the building were cluttered with carts and bustling with people despite the earliness of the hour. The entrance was large enough for many people to pass through at once. There were no lights on inside, but the sun was bright enough for Balsa to see people walking in front of counters and taking seats to wait.
Balsa and Jiguro stepped into the wide yard. It was so packed with people that the air was stiflingly warm. The air was also stale and smelled like horses, manure, and sweat. Every business that employed bodyguards smelled exactly the same. Balsa was used to it, and found the mix of smells strangely comforting. She was actually feeling a little excited to set out and go somewhere new.
Jiguro led Balsa inside. There were a few rooms for rent and places to eat, in addition to the counters where business was conducted. Breakfast was still being made; there was thin smoke in the air from the bread ovens where bam was baking.
They got their assignments and went outside to the yard again. Balsa saw a tiny insect hovering around people as she and Jiguro pressed through the crowd. She didn't recognize it at first, but then it flew right over her.
"Ah, a bee!"
"It's a grain bee," Jiguro said. He looked around the yard. "Looks like there are a whole lot of ‘em."
"What's a grain bee?"
"They eat the juices of tosha, a kind of grain. It's the grain they use to ferment toshul. Looks like the grain bees are gathering around the barrels."
Balsa watched the bees flying to and fro between barrels. She couldn't count how many there were, but she guessed that there were over a hundred.
"Yikes! There's a lot of them..." a man said.
Balsa turned toward him. He was Kanbalese and carrying a spear much like hers and Jiguro's. His beard and hair were more gray than not, so he was much older than Jiguro. He was also taller and broader, and appeared to be in excellent health.
"You, boy. How much do you think a barrel of that sells for?"
Balsa blinked. She'd been mistaken for a boy again. A girl carrying a spear in a place like this was an unusual sight in places like this, so it was easier for her to dress as a boy to blend in. Most people who'd never met Jiguro and Balsa before assumed that Balsa was Jiguro's son.
She looked at the barrels of toshal again. Toshal was used as medicine and not as a recreational drink; the tavern where she and Jiguro worked never had any of it. But she knew the going price for it, since Jiguro had told her: one small jar would cost its weight in silver. A barrel would probably be worth forty times that.
Balsa whistled, impressed. "Wow! It's liquid gold!"
The older Kanbalese man grinned. His eyebrows rose slightly. "You're still young, but you've got a good head on your shoulders.” He looked up at Jiguro. “You have a fine son there, sir.”
Jiguro patted Balsa’s head fondly, making her scowl. “Thanks. But this isn’t my son; it’s my daughter.”
The man’s eyes went wide. “You’re teaching your daughter the spear?”
Balsa looked up at Jiguro, more than a little confused. When she was younger, Jiguro usually didn’t correct people when they said she was a boy, but lately, he had been correcting people. She didn’t know why. When she’d asked, Jiguro had said, “You’re already thirteen,” as if that answered the question. What did being thirteen have to do with anything?
Jiguro opened and extended his right hand: a gesture often used before polite, formal greetings in Kanbal. “I’m Nadol Go Saram.”
The man nodded, then shook Jiguro’s extended hand. “I’m Sumal Go Saram. We’re of the same clan, it seems, though I’ve never seen you before. I guess this caravan needs a lot of guards, so it’s drawn a lot of us from Kanbal.” The corners of his eyes crinkled when he smiled.
Just after Sumal introduced himself, several men emerged from inside the red-shingled building. They weren’t bodyguards, but merchants. They saw Jiguro and Sumal and came over.
“Ah, it seems that everyone’s here now,” a merchant said. “We should prepare for departure.” The merchant appeared to be in his mid-twenties. Despite his young age, the other men around him treated him respectfully, so he must be an important man. He peeled away from the other merchants, directing traffic with a stern expression. When it seemed like the preparations for leaving were well underway, he returned to Jiguro.
“So, you’re the new guard?” he asked. “You can sleep and eat with the others tonight. Be up early tomorrow; breakfast is served before sunup.”
The merchant’s gaze fell on Balsa. “Oi! You’re not thinking to bring a child along, are you?”
“I believe our shared acquaintance informed you that this child would be coming with me,” Jiguro said. “I’ll cover all their traveling expenses and food out of my own wages. This child’s father died while protecting a caravan. I won’t bore you with the details, but I pledged to take care of them and I won’t go back on my word. It seems that there was a miscommunication somewhere, so I’ll formally ask permission for the child to come with us.”
The merchant frowned. “Even if you pay for his food, won’t he still need to borrow a horse? What an awful thing to happen, just before we leave this morning...”
“This child doesn’t need a horse,” Jiguro said, hoping to put an end to the merchant’s complaints.
“Are you thinking of letting him ride with the wagons? There’s no room. We’re at capacity as it is.”
“I’m not thinking of the wagons, either,” Jiguro said. “This child will follow the caravan on foot. I don’t anticipate any problems. If they can’t keep up, that’s their problem, not yours.”
“You must be joking,” the merchant said.
“I’m not,” Jiguro said. “This kid has followed countless caravans, and there’s never been an issue.”
The merchant looked Balsa over, up and down. He couldn’t make any more logistical objections, but he still seemed to want an excuse to leave Balsa behind. “If he collapses on the way, it’ll mean trouble for us. The caravan can’t slow down if we’re going to reach our destination before winter.”
“The caravan won’t need to slow down,” Jiguro said. “If he collapses, I’ll leave him there. You have my oath as a caravan guard in good standing.” His tone was clarion-bright and undeniably sincere.
The merchant turned away, looking at the other guards. One of the guards stepped out of the crowd and approached Jiguro.
“I’m Gozu. I’ll be leading the caravan guards on this expedition.”
Jiguro nodded in acknowledgement. “I’m Nadol.”
Gozu looked at Balsa. “How old is this kid?” he asked.
“Thirteen.”
Gozu hmphed. “Well, I believe you. They make ‘em tough in Kanbal, in mind as well as in body. As long as the kid doesn’t need a horse, you’re welcome to come along.” Then he frowned slightly. “There is one other problem. We’re carrying precious cargo. Bandits would consider just one barrel to be a prize worth dying for. If we’re attacked, will you protect the kid first, or the barrels?”
Jiguro was about to reply when someone chuckled. “Do you really need to ask that, Gozu? He’s stupid enough to bring a kid along on a trip like this. No matter what he says, you know what he’ll do.”
The man was eighteen or nineteen, and appeared to be another guard. He laughed, then spat on the ground near Balsa’s feet.
“What’s the world coming to? Hiring old geezers and men with kids...well, whatever. But we’re really scraping the bottom of the barrel now.” He faced Jiguro. “This is some shit you’ve pulled, right before we leave--you know we don’t have time to argue. Gozu, I think we should pick up another guard at our first stop. We’re better off hiring someone without a kid.”
Gozu’s face clouded over. Many of the other guards also seemed troubled. Jiguro didn’t spare the rude guard a second glance, and focused solely on Gozu.
“Does that man have a lot of experience?” he asked.
The rude guard put his hand on the hilt of his sword. “Oi! Don’t ask stupid questions!”
“I don’t actually know,” Gozu said. “The placement agency asked me to hire him to get him more experience guarding caravans. This is the first time I’ve worked with him.” Gozu waved to the rude guard. “I’m sure you know what the most important part of protecting a caravan is, right?”
The rude guard frowned sourly. “Duh, of course. If you doubt my experience, ask me again after I’ve used my sword on anyone who might menace this caravan.”
Gozu sighed. “We have an idiot on our hands. The most important thing to remember when you’re guarding a caravan is to protect your fellow guards. If anyone gets the jump on us, all the rest of us need to respond immediately. If you can’t get along with and trust your comrades, you’ll never be a successful caravan guard. The kid has already caused fewer problems than you. You should be ashamed of your behavior.”
“You joking or what?” the rude guard asked. “Who’d you rather have with you in a pinch, that kid or me?”
Jiguro took a step forward. “I have a way to test that idea. I propose a contest between my son and this man. If my son wins, you’ll have your proof.”
The rude guard wasn’t the only one surprised at Jiguro’s suggestion. Gozu and the other guards looked between Balsa and the rude guard, making comparisons in size with their glances. They didn’t believe that Jiguro was serious.
“I have experience,” Jiguro said. “My son does, too. It’s dangerous work, guarding a caravan--we both know that well. My son may be a child still, but he’s guarded more caravans than this man, and is able to guard them better. I believe that my son also has more combat experience.”
Jiguro placed his hand on Balsa’s shoulder. “Go on, and earn a place for yourself.”
Balsa nodded. The rude guard was very tall, but she was used to fighting people bigger than her--Jiguro, for instance. She summoned her focus, feeling heat build in her stomach like it always did at the beginning of a battle. She bared her teeth fiercely, like a rabid dog, then settled her own spear over her head in a high stance.
The rude guard looked her over, turning bright red from embarrassment. He drew his sword with a flashy, pointless move.
Dad’s right. He’s a complete moron.
Even so, the longsword was a dangerous weapon, and he was much larger than her. She couldn’t afford to let her guard down. If he rushed at her, he might knock her off-balance and manage to injure her, and then, the fight would be over. She considered the idea that he might underestimate her--he was dumb, after all--but she couldn’t count on that, either.
She had to ask herself if he actually intended to kill her, or just humiliate her. She didn’t know. Her goal was to defeat him; if he was stupid enough to get himself killed, so be it.
Silence all around. Balsa held her breath. There were so many innocent bystanders. This fight would be hard, not just because her opponent was a clumsy oaf, but because she had to avoid injuring all these extra people and horses. Balsa took in her environment, marking the location of the road and the main building in her mind, considering her first move.
The rude guard stood there with his unsheathed sword and let out a wordless yell. He closed the distance between them in a single bound, but Balsa expected that. She noted the placement of his sword and aimed her spear at the lower part of his stomach.
The rude guard side-stepped the spear, but he faltered in his footing a bit. The tip of the spear grazed his outer armor as he dodged. He scowled at her. Balsa didn’t pause in her attacks and aimed her next one directly at the center part of his blade. He caught her spear, but his sword went flying out of his hand.
Frustrated and enraged, the rude guard reached for Balsa’s spear and attempted to wrestle it away from her. He got Balsa off-balance enough to retrieve his sword, then struck straight down.
Balsa dodged the strike, still smiling fiercely as she led him on a merry dance in circles. The rude guard grunted in rage, his face bright red, and followed after her, blocking her moves. His movements were no longer purposeful, but reactive: he was behaving more like a beast than a human.
Gozu feared that some harm might come to Balsa or the other people present from the guard’s wild swings, so he called out, “Stop! We’ve seen enough!”
The rude guard didn’t seem to hear him, and kept pressing his attack on Balsa.
Jiguro set his hand on Gozu’s shoulder. “Let them fight it out,” he said. “It’s almost over.”
“It’s over now, as far as I’m concerned,” Gozu said.
Jiguro caught Balsa’s eye. “The other guards understand this fight, but the merchants won’t unless you win decisively,” he called out to her. “Finish him off.”
Balsa crouched down like a small mountain monkey. She was too low for the rude guard to strike, and it was obvious that she was simply toying with him. He chased her behind a wooden bit of scaffolding, then waited for her to come out of hiding. He was planning to aim for her head when she emerged, not to kill her, but to knock her out. He could disarm her and mangle her arm so that she wouldn’t be able to fight him anymore.
But Balsa anticipated his potential strategies. She looped around the scaffolding, coming out on the opposite side of what he’d expected. She was behind him. He felt her presence and slashed out with his sword, but the blade bit nothing but air. It was so long, and he struck out so strongly, that the tip of the blade struck the flagstones beneath their feet, shooting sparks in all directions.
Balsa closed the distance between them, ramming her forehead into his chin. The rude guard bent backwards from the force of the headbutt. His grip on the sword loosened. As he righted himself, Balsa brought her knee up and hit him squarely in the stomach.
The rude guard brought one hand to his mouth, and felt blood there.
“I told you to finish him, not play with him,” Jiguro shouted to her.
Balsa blinked. It was true that she’d been showing off a little. She knew what she had to do, but she hadn’t realized there was a rush. She brought her spear up and around and landed a solid hit on the rude guard’s collarbone, shattering it instantly.
The sound of breaking bone was sickening. Balsa felt the bone give way under her hands and shuddered. The rude guard screamed and collapsed instantly onto the flagstones, howling in agony with his knees clutched to his chest.
Jiguro stepped between Balsa and the rude guard and crouched down. He shoved his fingers in the man’s mouth so that he wouldn’t swallow his tongue and waited for the spasms of pain to work their way out of his system. Then Jiguro set the broken bone, creating a makeshift sling for the guard’s right arm.
The merchants and other guards were talking. Balsa heard them, but she didn’t understand what they were saying; her attention was still fixed on her opponent. She was out of breath and shaking all over. Her hands wouldn’t be still no matter how hard she tried to control them.
Jiguro finished tending the rude guard’s injuries and stood up. He looked at Balsa, then placed his hands heavily on her shoulders. Their weight was reassuring; she started to calm down. She looked around the courtyard, remembering that she had to be vigilant about her surroundings.
All of the assembled merchants stared at Balsa and Jiguro, their faces gone pale from shock. “What is this heinous display?!” one of them demanded.
Gozu faced the merchants and bowed. “Forgive me, sirs, for having you witness such a bloody contest. Bringing along an inexperienced guard would be a liability, and if anything happened to the caravan because of him, it would be my responsibility. I felt that if I did not allow you to see the end of this contest, you might try to bring along the adult guard instead, in place of the child, even though that’s clearly not what’s best for the safety of the caravan. This child and his father are experienced caravan guards, and I have no problem recommending that we hire them on for this expedition.”
The merchants said nothing in response, but the important-looking merchant who had first complained about Balsa gave Gozu a tiny nod.
Sumal, the Kanbalese caravan guard, called out to the merchant as he was turning away. “Lord Tokian, we’ll get you safely through this journey, as we have many times before. Please rest assured.”
Lord Tokian turned around and looked at Sumal. His gaze was cold. “Ah, Sumal. I thank you for joining us again. My father informed me that this would be the last time.”
“The last?” Sumal asked. “I don’t understand. I’m not retiring anytime soon.”
“I heard that you had a serious illness recently,” Sumal said. “Doubtless due to your advanced age.” He paused, then added, “You’ve done this work for us for many years, but it makes more sense to pay the people most suited to this role. I agreed to sign you on because of your history with us, but this is the last time. You’re a warrior, and should know your own limitations. Maybe it’s time for you to consider retirement, since you haven’t.” Lord Tokian turned his back to Sumal.
Balsa never forgot the expression on Sumal’s face as Lord Tokian walked away from him and started directing the other workers to pack cargo into the wagons again. It was time for the caravan to depart.
No comments:
Post a Comment