Those Who Walk the Flame Road
It was a hot, sticky summer night. The tavern boys had a holiday—an entire day off—so Hugo and the other tavern boys prepared to visit a public bath. They were about to set out together as a group when the youngest tavern boy, Rai, burst into the room panting for breath.
“Tam’s in trouble! He got caught by the guys at Noruan’s tavern!”
The other tavern boys all started talking at once.
“What? Where is he?” Romui, the oldest of the tavern boys, used his loud voice to cut through the commotion.
“Behind Rou’s warehouse, where they ship in most of the wine we get. We have to save him!” Rai said. He was only eleven years old. His voice shook with fear.
“We will,” Romui said. “Noruan’s lot will be sorry they messed with the likes of us!” He selected a group of the older tavern boys by tapping them on the shoulder. They were the ones that Romui thought would be useful in a fight. Of course, Hugo was selected; he was the only one who’d ever received proper fight training, as a child of one of the Mikado’s Shields. Hugo had only fought in one real battle, but he’d done plenty of sparring and practice fights against boys with similar training as him. He wasn’t frightened of a little street scuffle.
Remembering the friends he’d trained with saddened Hugo. He wondered if any of them were still alive. They probably weren’t.
Hugo walked along the street with Romui and the other tavern boys with a broken pole in his hand to use as a weapon. Rai followed the fighters, staying a few steps behind. It was getting dark; the shops and houses that they passed by were lighting lamps in their windows. By the time they reached Rou’s warehouse, it was so dark that Hugo could scarcely see his companions.
But Hugo and the other tavern boys didn’t need to see to find Tam. They could hear choked gasps and the sounds of blows, close and getting closer as they walked. They were right on top of the fight when seven figures came into view. They were all on the ground, and most were knocked out. Hugo bent down and frowned. There was no street behind the warehouse, only an open space of packed dirt.
That was lucky. The street was stone, and fighting on stone was dangerous; loose rock could be used as a weapon, and falling head-first on a stone surface could easily be fatal. Hugo wanted a real weapon for this fight—he would have given almost anything for his sword—but on a battlefield like this, where the ground was soft, he and the others could probably make do.
Tam was on the ground, still conscious, but he was being kicked by three or four other boys.
“Is that… Dougu?” one of the tavern boys said.
“Shit,” Romui said under his breath. “Rai! You didn’t tell us that Dougu was here!” He poked Rai roughly in the shoulder.
Rai looked like he was about to cry.
The gang from Noruan’s tavern turned away from Tam to face them. “Oi! Look there! It’s the soup-for-brains morons from Mar’s tavern!” The gang laughed.
One boy from Noruan’s tavern stepped away from Tamu, hands on hips. “Well, well, well. I was just about getting sick of beating that one to a pulp. Nice of ‘em to come to us for their beating, isn’t it, lads?” He grinned broadly. “Romui! So you’re the leader over at Mar’s now, huh? Seems you didn’t get the news! Dougu dropped by our tavern a few days ago and agreed to join up.”
Romui glared, angered at being taunted, and lifted his pole over his shoulder.
Dougu stood still, watching Romui approach. He looked bored.
Romui brought his pole down squarely over Dougu’s head, but he dodged with astonishing speed and slammed Romui in the cheek with his fist. Romui stepped back, eyes wide and burning with rage.
The gang from Noruan’s tavern egged Dougu on with loud cheers.
Romui wanted to fight, but he was outclassed. Hugo turned to Shouya, the boy standing next to him, and whispered in his ear. “Hey, hand me that rag you’ve got over your shoulder.”
“Eh?” Shouya frowned in incomprehension, but he passed Hugo the rag. “What are you gonna to with it?” he whispered back.
“I’ll take care of him.” The other tavern boys clumped around Hugo. He spoke quietly. “I’ll put Dougu down, but you have to promise not to say my name out loud. Got it?”
Shouya and the other tavern boys nodded, though it didn’t look like they understood his intentions.
Hugo didn’t pause to explain himself. He wrapped his left fist in the rag and called out, “Hey you!”
Dougu looked up.
Hugo ran at Dougu, aiming a sharp kick to the back of his knee. The kick connected, making Dougu’s leg go out from under him; he aimed his fist, hard like stone, at Hugo’s face.
Hugo stopped the blow with his own arm and felt Dougu’s strength radiating up and down, making his bones rattle. A shock went through Hugo’s entire body. Instead of backing down, Hugo smiled, and there was something a little crazy in it; a little wild. He jabbed his fist out and felt it in his fingers when Dougu’s nose broke. Dougu pitched forward, and Hugo shoved his knee up into Dougu’s chin.
Dougu brought one arm up to protect his face and struck out wildly at Hugo with his other hand. Dougu was tough, but he didn’t really know how to fight any more than the other boys did; Hugo could see what he was planning to do well before he moved.
Hugo slammed Dougu in the gut with his wrapped fist and knocked the wind out of him. Dougu fell, curling in on himself in pain. Blood streamed from his broken nose. The leg Hugo had kicked was bent at an unnatural angle.
The other members of the gang from Noruan’s tavern were dumbstruck.
The tavern boys from Mars were cheering. “Wow! That was amazing, Hu—”
Hugo spun on his heel and yelled, “Shut up!”
The other tavern boys snapped their mouths shut.
It was a warm night. Hugo hadn’t noticed during the fight, but he had sweat in his eyes. He started feeling sluggish as the adrenaline wore off. He faced down the gang from Noruan’s tavern and set his shoulders. “Y’all never give us any trouble again, y’hear? Or I’ll wipe the floor with the rest of ya.”
Hugo focused his attention on Dougu. “That goes double for you.” His tone was sharp and cold like ice. “Do I make myself clear?”
The gang from Noruan’s tavern was cowed. The nodded rapidly and dashed off into the darkness.
Hugo’s knee hurt a little where it had contacted Dougu’s chin. It was stiff and hard to move. Hugo walked carefully over to Tam, giving himself mental reminders to check the injury more thoroughly when he and the other tavern boys got back to Mar’s. There were fresh bruises forming on Tam’s face, but he’d hunched in to protect himself while he was being beaten, so the damage wasn’t as bad as it could have been.
“Tam? Hey, are you okay? Can you stand?” Hugo asked.
Tam gritted his teeth. He was holding onto his knees. He recognized Hugo’s voice and nodded with effort. Romui helped support Tam, and the tavern boys went back to Mar’s tavern together. The other boys were concerned about Romui’s and Tam’s injuries, but they didn’t complain much. The others kept sneaking surreptitious glances at Hugo, looking like they wanted to say something to him.
Hugo sighed. “What is it? Why are you staring at me?”
Shouya, who’d given him the rag to use in the fight, spoke first, and haltingly. “It’s just…that was amazing, Hugo. I had no idea you were that good at fighting.”
Shouya and the boys were looking at Hugo with genuine respect in their eyes. That might have made Hugo happy a long time ago, but now, it just made him uncomfortable. He knew how to fight barehanded, but it wasn’t his preferred style; he feared that he might be drawn into more fights of that kind in the future. His voice was quiet when he said, “It was nothing, really. In all honesty, I hate fighting more than almost anything. I’d, uh, like to ask you something.”
The other boys nodded.
“I don’t want to get caught up in more fights like this. If you’d have said my name, the gang from Noruan’s tavern would know who I am, and I didn’t want that. You get it, right?”
The boys nodded again.
“So don’t tell anyone that I was involved in that fight. Let Romui and Tam take the credit for beating Dougu. I don’t want it.” There was something threatening in Hugo’s tone that made the other boys afraid.
Rai, who was the youngest, stepped forward to say, “I get it, but… I mean, that was amazing! If someone asks me about it, I might wind up saying your name by mistake.”
Hugo smiled. Rai was so young, and so honest. “You can tell people what happened. Just tell people that you don’t know what my name is. That’s the only thing you need to do. Say that if you told them, you’d have to kill them. If they keep giving you a hard time, tell me who they are and I’ll take care of them, too, just like I did Dougu.”
Rai swallowed heavily. “You won’t kill them, will you?”
Hugo laughed. “Nah. I’ll just hurt ‘em so bad that they’ll wish they were dead.”
Rai and the other tavern boys exchanged faint smiles. Hugo saw a bit of fear there, still, but most of them seemed glad that Hugo was going to protect them from other threats like Dougu if the need arose.
Hugo’s entire life changed as a consequence of that night’s fight. His name wasn’t widely known, but other taverns learned what had happened and sent their own strong fighters to test him. Dougu had possessed quite a reputation in the lower city, so a number of challengers showed up to fight Hugo for the sole purpose of learning his name. Hugo tried refusing to fight, but he had to protect the other tavern boys and frequently got caught up in violent scuffles. Over time, he got used to it--the fighting, and the praise of the other tavern boys. It even started being a little fun.
Curiosity over Hugo’s name grew, like an ember sparking a fire to life. The tavern boys at Mar’s kept Hugo’s name secret. Challengers kept coming--and not just for Hugo. His name still wasn’t known, but everyone knew that the boy who’d defeated Dougu worked at Mar’s tavern.
Midsummer in the lower city was hot, sticky and unpleasant. Hugo was raised in a noble estate that was manned by servants carrying fans to circulate the air; he wasn’t used to trying to breathe in such conditions. When he was done with work, he had no desire to go anywhere. He plopped down in front of the well behind the tavern and drew up water by the bucketful, gulping it down until his thirst was slaked and pouring more water down his neck.
Even the nighttime was too hot. Hugo looked up at the sky as the stars came out in the clear evening sky and cursed the summer season. The city was quieting down before the evening rush; Hugo heard people walking past the tavern and the incessant buzzing of mosquitoes. All was still; he was alone. There had been no challengers for him at the tavern today, and he was glad; he felt too heatsick to fight.
Hugo’s mood was dampened for another reason as well. He’d listened to the gossip in the tavern that day and learned that the last remnants of Yogoese resistance were dead, fled, or integrated into the Talsh Empire’s army. Hugo didn’t understand the warriors who’d capitulated. The gossipers claimed that the Yogoese soldiers and warriors were too tired to keep fighting. Hugo felt like he’d been abandoned. It was impossible for Yogo to throw off Talsh rule now, when there were no warriors left to revolt. He would never follow in his father’s footsteps as one of the Mikado’s Shields.
Hugo remembered something his father had said to him long ago.
“Warriors are people who are willing to sacrifice themselves for the sake of other people. The Mikado, who is blessed by Ten no Kami, is responsible for keeping our nation stable and peaceful, so that the people can live well. You’ll be one of the Mikado’s Shields one day, Hugo. You will sacrifice yourself in service to the Mikado, so that the people of Yogo can live in peace. That is your destiny.”
At the time, Hugo had trusted his father’s words completely. He’d felt like he could see Ten no Kami’s hand guiding the path of his young life. He still wanted to do what his father said. He was willing to give up everything so that the people of Yogo could flourish, but he couldn’t see Ten no Kami’s guiding hand anymore. He sat in the gathering darkness by the well all alone, watching the narrow strip of sky overhead like he was expecting some kind of sign.
Hugo couldn’t live in occupied Yogo as a warrior. He’d never considered giving up his dreams of rising up against Talsh before, but now, he realized that he had to. He wasn’t strong enough to defend the Mikado and protect the people’s happiness, and he never would be. If he was going to survive, he had to choose another path.
Hugo gritted his teeth and rubbed his stiff jaw. His clothes were sweaty, dirty, and torn. Hugo should be used to that, but in this moment, Hugo felt the tragedy of his own situation. He hadn’t felt so hopeless since he’d run away from the burning warehouse and lost his family forever.
The tavern started burning lanterns that had chemicals in them to repel mosquitoes. Hugo put his face in his hands.
This is hopeless, I’m hopeless.
He’d told the other tavern boys not to say his name and to pretend they didn’t know it. There was irony in that, almost humorous; Hugo couldn’t live under his own name and identity anymore. What was the point of living at all? Hugo no longer felt like protecting himself. His life was over. Whatever came next didn’t matter.
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