Those Who Walk the Flame Road
Tarasu's mooring was on the Houra River, close to Toi's Tavern where Jiguro was working. The main road through town led right to it, so Balsa made excellent time. During the day this road would be crowded, but with the taverns and restaurants closed, this place was deserted.
Torches lined the street, so the road itself was easy to see. Once she wandered off it, though, the torches would be a hindrance and not a help. It was harder to see in the dark close to the road because of the torchlight. Balsa ran, listening to the torches spit and sputter and watching her own shadow move out of the corner of her eye.
Balsa left the road, seeking cover in some roadside trees. The wind was incredibly strong tonight. There were a few houses in this part of town and the wind whistled through the eaves, making walls rattle and shake. Balsa was alarmed by the noise and peeked through the leaves that concealed her to find out what was happening.
In the distance, Balsa caught sight of a wooden hoist the same height as a small tower. It was used to help haul up cargo from the docks. Using the hoist, a crew could lift heavier barrels and crates safely. This particular machine was rigged in such a way that horses could be lashed to it, increasing the amount of weight that could be lifted. She remembered seeing the hoist in operation during the day.
There were no horses or crewmen around the hoist now, though she sniffed the lingering smell of horses. Noran man stood still in the shadow of the hoist, alone. The light of the torches from the street reached him, so Balsa could see him clearly. He stood with his arms folded, tapping his foot in impatience.
Balsa approached Noran swiftly, alert to dangers in her surroundings. The wind was a major distraction; she couldn't hear anything well enough to judge if there were more potential attackers or not. The sails of ships flapped in the gale, and the ships themselves and the cargo on board presented bewildering obstacles to her in the semi-darkness, as well as places for enemies to hide. She wasn't terribly familiar with this place even in the daytime, and the darkness made it even more dangerous.
As Balsa traversed the hazardous environment, the thought occurred to her that Noran had been attempting to goad her into a prideful rage so that she would come to him alone. In which case, he might not have underestimated her at all.
Noran's expression was monstrous. He'd been putting on a friendly act at the restaurant and in the caravan, but the look of hatred she saw on his face as she drew near made him look like a demon.
Balsa eased herself over a large pile of sandy ballast and landed silently on the other side of it. There was gravel here--likely used as ballast as well--so she picked up two small stones and tucked them into her breast pocket.
Noran saw her coming for him and grinned from ear to ear. "So you did come alone. You're braver than I thought you were."
Three men melted out of the shadows near Noran. All of them held the leashes of enormous dogs. Balsa took an involuntary step back, trying to map an escape route. There was so much cargo in the way, and one false step would send her overboard into the river.
This was a dogfight. They were planning to sic the dogs on her so that there wouldn't be any evidence of her being murdered by a weapon. The dogs were so large that the men struggled to control them.
Another man appeared behind Balsa--a veritable giant holding a thick staff in both hands.
"Such a shame," Noran said. "The harbormaster'll get here tomorrow and see you splattered all over the place. Let's hope he gets the place cleaned up before everyone else sees, yeah?" He shook his head in mock pity. "Jiguro can't get any revenge for his daughter's death if it was caused by wild dogs... it's a terrible tragedy."
Noran was trying to goad her into focusing on him, but Balsa didn't. She needed every bit of concentration and focus that she had to spare if she was going to survive this. Noran was an irritating distraction, and she ignored him.
The dogs were her primary concern. In some ways, they were more terrifying than human opponents because their pack instincts would make them hunt her as a group. And if she managed to fell them all without getting injured herself--which was extremely unlikely--there would still be Noran and the four men to deal with.
"Oi, Noran," the giant holding the staff said. "You asked us to bring the dogs out to fight just this one girl? Doesn't seem sporting to me." His speech was slow and slurred from drink.
Some of the other men laughed. "Yeah. Seems like kind of a waste."
Noran alone appeared deadly serious. "Sir, take a look at that girl's weapon, and you'll understand."
While they were talking, Balsa took another step backwards. The giant was behind her, but he was only one enemy, and he was drunk. He tried to catch her, but he was clumsy and fell over; while he was falling, Balsa took a running leap at the nearest dog, which was still on a leash. She used her momentum to stab it through the throat with her short spear.
Instead of removing her weapon from the dying dog, she kept pushing her spear forward into the dog's handler, piercing him deeply in the side. He screamed in pain. She kicked him down and pulled her spear free.
That was the best Balsa could do with a surprise attack. She was surrounded now. A whoosh cut through the air: Balsa ducked just in time to avoid being whacked in the head by the giant’s staff. He moved much faster than his bulk would suggest.
There were too many enemies: too many blades to dodge. When the giant attacked her again, she couldn’t get out of the way in time, and she received a glancing blow to her side.
Even though the giant hadn’t hit Balsa head-on, the strike sent a shock through her entire body. She stumbled backward, coughing and gripping her knees. Her spear was still sheathed in its stone cover, but she felt some reassurance in that she’d managed to keep her grip on it. She swung at the giant’s hand with her sheathed spear at the same time as he brought down his staff over her head, and the scabbard impacted the fingers gripping his weapon with all the force of her weight behind it.
The giant howled in pain and loosened his grip on the staff.
“Release the dogs!”
Balsa heard the men shouting to one another, but she didn’t pause to listen to what they were saying. The sound of the dogs tearing up the distance between them and her was much more urgent. She had no chance on the ground; she needed distance. Or high ground…
Balsa swept men out of her way with her spear, then grabbed the hoist and started climbing up it as fast as she could. It was slow going--Balsa wasn’t used to climbing one-handed, and a pull in her side from when the giant had attacked her told her that at least one rib was broken. Moving at all was painful, but she kept climbing up with her right hand and her legs while keeping a firm grip on her spear with her left hand.
She was fast, but the dogs were faster. One of them leaped at her, bit into her leg with its teeth and pulled her down the hoist. She twisted and brought the butt of her spear down on the dog’s body, making it let go. Warm blood gushed down to her ankle. She kept climbing until she was out of reach.
“Hey there!” Noran waved at her from below. “You’re smarter than you look. D’you plan to stay up there all day and all night like a cicada clinging to a tree?” Then he turned to his companions. “Use the stones from the ballast to bring that insect down!”
The men dug around in the same rocky area that Balsa had discovered earlier and came up with a few large stones to throw.
Balsa hoped for more time so she could catch her breath and think, but there wasn’t any more time. “Noran!” she called out.
Noran looked up at her. She grabbed one of the stones she’d picked up out of her breast pocket and hurled it at his head. Her aim was true: the stone struck him directly between the eyes. His eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed, unconscious.
He was down. Balsa seized the rope from the top of the hoist in one hand and kicked off of it, jumping down using the rope so that she wouldn’t hurt herself further. The rope was very long and sturdy to support heavy cargo, so it supported Balsa’s weight easily. She’d climbed up high enough that she could jump into the river, so that was exactly what she did, landing in the water with a terrific splash.
Agonizing pain shot through her left shoulder and side as she swam. She felt like she’d been beaten black and blue. She sank down to the sandy bottom of the river, struggling to surface. Her limbs felt heavy. The shock of the cold water and the worsening pain of her injuries made her vision hazy.
Balsa’s left hand lashed out at something and held: she could tell by touch that it was a buoy, a rubbery floating block lashed between between the harbor’s boats and the dock. She pulled herself up on the buoy, then got her hands around the rope tying it to the dock.
That was when her good luck ran out. She could see the shore from here, but the current of the Houra River was strong, and the river itself was very deep. She’d be able to make it if she was uninjured, but as things were, she would have to keep hold of the rope. If she did that, the current would pull her down, and she would drown.
Balsa’s only hope now was to find a boat to climb up into. The water was too cold at this time of year for her to stay in it for very long. She saw one in the middle distance; she could get to it if she followed the buoy’s rope. She swam slowly in fits and starts, stopping whenever her broken rib made her want to scream. Her hands shook on the rope. She used the last of her strength to seize the side of a small boat and pitch herself forward onto it, not caring even if she hurt herself further.
She lay down on the boat, feeling a little better, but she couldn’t let herself relax. More attackers were still nearby. She had to assume that they’d seen her climb into the boat. Much though she wanted to do something to hide, that was impossible. There was nothing to do now but wait.
Wind over the water carried the sound of men’s voices to Balsa’s ears.
“Is Noran really worth all this fuss? Why not just let the girl alone?” one grumbled.
Another--Balsa recognized his voice as the giant’s--laughed. “Noran’s never been worth any fuss at all. He’s rotten to the core. You new around here or somethin’?” He chuckled. “Anyway, go see if he’s dead, will you? If he’s still alive, haul him back. If not, come back and search with me.”
“Got it.”
Balsa listened intently as men’s footsteps drew ever closer. She could hear their dogs, too, walking and panting. Her hands wouldn’t stop shaking. She couldn’t just stay here completely exposed, so she willed strength into her legs and stumbled up onto the deck, then rolled.
There was no one on the boat at the moment; the sailors must be staying in town for the night. The sail flapped in the high wind, and the rigging jingled and clanged where it wasn’t fully secure. She couldn’t hear the dogs anymore.
Balsa curled up small on the deck like a pill bug with her arms wrapped tightly around herself and tried to get her breathing under control. She was soaked through and felt like she was freezing to death. Every inhalation made her whole body ache, but she had to stay still and quiet.
The sky above was clear and cloudless. The stars shone like pieces of ice. She could see the wind kicking up dust and dirt and carrying it across the sky. She remembered Tanda telling her once, a long time ago, that the wind was what swept the sky clean.
Balsa started to cry. The tears on her cheeks felt warm.
It was her own fault that she was in this situation: chased by low-life churls, severely injured, freezing, and now crying: a drowned rat had more dignity.
Balsa stayed curled around herself and cried for a long time.
***
When Balsa returned to awareness, she was still cold. She’d either slipped into unconsciousness or fallen asleep. She was glad that Noran’s friends hadn’t found her, but she had no idea how she was going to get back to Toi’s Tavern where Jiguro worked.
Balsa opened her eyes and looked around. She wasn’t on the boat anymore, but inside a dark room. She saw a desk near a single window. There was a scroll open on the desk. Jiguro was reading it in the light of a candle.
This was Jiguro’s room at the tavern.
Jiguro worked nights, which meant that he couldn’t go to sleep until everyone else was done working for the day. When she was little, Balsa didn’t understand why he always had to stay up so late. Since all the customers were gone, there wouldn’t be any drunken brawls or anything. Jiguro had laughed and explained to her the many hazards in a store or restaurant at night: thieves, bandits, professional rivals. He was expected to protect the places where he worked from those dangers. That was one reason why he didn’t drink.
Because Jiguro was like that--alert to every threat--his employers trusted him, and his reputation spread. He was paid better than most guards even though he hadn’t been in the profession as long as most of them.
Balsa looked at the faint light streaming in from the window and sat up. She could stand, though it was difficult. She thought for a few moments about what she wanted to say, then called out to Jiguro in a voice made weak and quiet by her injured side.
“Hm?” Jiguro turned a little toward her, but his face was in shadow, so she couldn’t see his expression. “What happened?” His question was neutral. He sounded calm, not angry or overly concerned.
“I did something pretty stupid,” Balsa said. “Noran came to the restaurant when I was there. I figured out that he sold us out to the bandits, and I couldn’t let it go…” Gritting her teeth, Balsa told Jiguro the whole story of how she’d come to be hiding on a boat tied up along the river.
When she was done speaking, Balsa hung her head and said, “I’ll leave town. I can’t possibly stay now. You might not see me for awhile, but don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”
Jiguro didn’t say anything. Then he set aside his scroll with a little laugh. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’ll leave the back way open for you, so you can stay here until you’re recovered.” He got up and left the room, vanishing into the predawn gloom. Balsa followed him outside, then decided to leave the tavern.
Balsa wasn’t joking when she’d told him that she wanted to be on her own. She was glad Jiguro had saved her, but she wasn’t expecting him to do that: not again. He’d already saved her more than enough times. She reached the outer doors and got herself mentally prepared to run. She wouldn’t start feeling better until she’d put this place behind her.
Running proved impossible: she was still too hurt. Someone seized her collar from behind as she tripped over her own feet and fell forward, and she passed out.
***
When Balsa returned to consciousness again, there was a blanket over her shoulders and a fire crackling next to her. Balsa turned to her uninjured side so that she could sit up without too much pain. There was a lot of firewood stacked near the door of the room, but Jiguro was absent. The wind picked up, making the fire pop and splutter when it forced its way through the cracks in the wooden building.
There was a book left open on a chair in easy reach. On the table, Balsa saw unshelled walnuts and a knife. Her eyes had just alighted on the walnuts when she heard footsteps coming up the stairs. Jiguro came into the room, carrying two large mugs of steaming tea.
Jiguro passed one of the tea mugs to Balsa. She sipped it carefully, since it was too hot to just gulp down.
“I’ve been asking around,” Jiguro said, setting his own mug of tea down on the table. “Seems like Noran’s been passing himself off as a messenger or a guard, then sending false information or luring caravans into traps. He’s been clever about it; he never stays in one area of Rota for long, and he spaces out his schemes so that he has time to make an escape.”
Balsa didn’t look up. She kept her eyes on her tea.
“That said, you made a scene at Furahan’s, and some of the other waiters noticed. I think it’s best for us to leave town for a but, until the rumors die down. By good luck, I met a caravan leader desperate for guards when I went out this morning. We can leave this afternoon.”
Balsa frowned. “Stop it.”
“What?”
Balsa looked Jiguro in the eyes and said, “Stop it. Just… you take care of yourself, and I’ll take care of myself. I never asked you to take care of me or get us away from here.” Balsa tried to say all this calmly, but she was almost crying by the end of it.
Jiguro considered her for a moment. “I see. And how do you plan to take care of yourself, then?”
“I’ll find work at another place, in this town or the next one,” Balsa said. “I’ll manage.”
“With no one to refer you and no reputation to rely on, except these rumors?” Jiguro raised an eyebrow.
Balsa’s shoulders sank. It was true that Furahan Restaurant wouldn’t give her a reference. It would be difficult to find any work, never mind work that paid decently well, as an unknown wanderer just passing through.
“You can’t get a job without a reference,” Jiguro said quietly.
“I know that!” Balsa snapped. “I’ll figure it out!” Her eyelids overflowed with tears.
Jiguro rested his hand lightly on top of her head. His other hand followed it, resting on top. Balsa closed her eyes.
“Being fifteen means seeing the world as warped, like a crooked arrow pulled into the groove of a bow. Even if the eyes could see properly, the arrow would never hit the target. But turning twenty grants good sight to those who make it that far.”
The words sounded a little like a poem.
“Being fifteen is like walking through a dark wood, all alone and lost. It takes five years to find the way clearly. It seems like such a long time…”
Jiguro removed his hands from Balsa’s head.
“Who wrote that poem?” she asked.
Jiguro laughed. “Rolua. The one you said would put you to sleep. In addition to being a poet, he was skilled at making bows and arrows.”
Balsa opened her eyes and saw Jiguro smiling down at her.
“You think you owe me a debt,” Jiguro said. “You don’t. Get that ridiculous idea out of your head.”
Jiguro went to the table, cracked open a walnut with the knife, and passed Balsa half the unshelled nut.
Balsa looked down at the walnut piece without eating it. Her tears fell on her palm and made it shine. She lifted it up to remove a few bits of lingering shell and felt a sharp pain run down her side.
Her rib was broken. She wouldn’t be able to run or do any difficult work until it was healed. She could try to work through the pain, but that would increase the time it would take for her to be well again.
Jiguro noticed her expression and posture. “The left rib, huh? You’ve always been a little weaker with your left side. It’s a common issue with warriors.” He sat at the table and cracked open more walnuts, always giving Balsa half.
“The caravan we’re leaving with is going to Jitan, but our contract ends at Toluan,” Jiguro said.
Balsa blinked and looked over at him. “Why?”
“I’m planning to spend the next year or so in New Yogo,” he said. “Torogai will always take us in, and it’s a safe place for you to recover and train.”
Torogai’s house in the mountains… it would be lush and green still, at this time of year. They could huddle around a fire outside and look at the stars.
“Tanda will be glad to see you again,” Jiguro said. And he
smiled.
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