Where the Wind Takes Us
Part 2 - Long Ago
Chapter 11 - Kemiru Hill
Maran sensed people moving behind him, but he didn’t turn around. It was only Yukim.
“Where are they?” Maran asked.
“They’ll reach the Boundary Tree soon,” Maran whispered back. He still didn’t turn. He had to keep his eyes on the tree and the clearing that surrounded it. He readied his bow. In the distance, he heard more people talking.
“Are Jiguro and his daughter still with them?” Maran asked.
Yukim didn’t answer. Surprised, Maran finally looked over his shoulder.
Yukim was frowning. “Jiguro is sticking to the target like glue. I don’t see his daughter anywhere. Maybe she stayed at the inn. Some of the Sadan Taram stayed out late drinking with the villagers. If they’re hungover and she’s guarding them, then maybe she’s not here.”
“We can’t assume that,” Maran said sternly “Doras underestimated her in Mahal Marsh, and look what happened.” He watched the approach of the Sadan Taram for a moment, then said, “Get to your place. And make every arrow count. We do not know their plans.”
Yukim bowed, then crouched down and headed into the underbrush. Doras was also hidden there. They planned to climb the trees for better visibility.
Maran took a deep breath and closed his eyes. When he opened them, he noticed glare on the white stone path leading up to the summit of the hill. It was past noon, and the sun was warm for the season. The woman they were targeting came up the path, defended by Jiguro, a tall warrior. Maran had to decide who would shoot first. It might be better for them all to shoot at once and break through Jiguro’s defenses, but then he would be aware of all their locations. It was better to shoot one or two at a time until they harried him to a more vulnerable position on the hilltop.
The matter of the daughter not being here was troubling, but Maran didn’t see that as a reason to delay what he was planning. He and his fellows were all veterans of many battles and skilled with the bow. They were well-concealed; he doubted that Jiguro or the girl had noticed any trace of their passage through the woods on the hill.
The direction of the wind changed. If the Sadan Taram had scent hounds, they might have figured out where Maran was hiding. But they didn’t. The wind might push his arrows off-course slightly, but it wasn’t strong enough to be a serious problem. His arrows were tipped with poison. It didn’t matter where they struck the woman’s body. Even one arrow would be enough to end her life.
All they would need to do then was dispose of the body in the valley far below. If they tossed it off the hill, it would be close to unrecoverable. No one would be able to prove what they’d done easily.
The Sadan Taram were close now; he heard them singing a song in Rotan. A chill went up his spine. He wanted to be at home with his wife, sitting in his own chair in front of the fire. The scarf his wife had knitted for him hung down over his right shoulder. He checked his bowstring and his quiver, making sure his arrows were in easy reach.
Movement caught the corner of his eye. He noticed Sari and Jiguro coming up the stone path, getting closer. Jiguro held his spear in his right hand and a wooden shield in his left. He was standing behind Sari, looking around. He stood so that he could react to attacks coming from every side.
Yukim and Doras were in position in the treetops. He signaled to them not to fire yet.
Then Jiguro discarded his shield. Maran frowned. They were sitting ducks now; Yukim and Doras could fire on them from above. But then Jiguro placed himself squarely behind Sari, extending his arms over her shoulders and gripping his spear. He was standing so close that they were touching, making himself into a human shield.
The wind blew through the trees. Sari pulled a small bundle out of her shirt and raised it to the sky.
It’s the water harp, Maran thought.
As Sari’s arms left the sheltering protection of Jiguro’s bulk, two arrows raced at her exposed flesh from the trees. Jiguro deflected them both with his spear. Maran noticed that he pointed at each archer’s position with his spearhead and felt a faint prickle of unease.
Then Maran drew back his own arrow, nocked it, aimed, and fired. The arrow’s flight was straight and true. Jiguro could not avoid the shot.
Jiguro kicked up the wooden shield from the ground. The arrow thudded into it with a reverberation that shook the air. Then someone—Doras or Yukim; Maran couldn’t tell—screamed and fell out of a tree. Maran dashed out of cover; they had to get rid of Jiguro now in order to get to Sari. He saw Jiguro crouched down beneath the shield right in front of him and aimed to take another shot.
Sharp pain pierced Maran’s side before he released his next arrow. The arrow went wild, and Maran stared in utter shock at the blood blooming from an arrow wound in his side. His eyes tracked the flight of that arrow backwards. Jiguro hadn’t shot it. Neither had Sari or the Sadan Taram.
It’s the girl. Jiguro’s daughter was here.
He was right. He watched the girl rise from a squat from below the road. She was getting closer to Jiguro; she didn’t spare so much as a glance for Maran.
Was she hiding along the road the whole time, and we missed her? Maran thought. Or had she climbed up the hill from the steepest side to avoid detection? No sane person would climb up that way. It was easy to see Lagaro’s grave from that direction. The grave was now exposed to the elements. Climbing up Kemiru Hill from that side was physically punishing as well as terrifying. But it was rocky, and there were handholds. An experienced mountaineer might find a small cave to hide in and wait in ambush.
Another arrow whizzed at Maran. He ducked and rolled behind a tree just in time to avoid taking another hit.
If she was lying in wait below the road, how could she see Doras and Yukim in the trees?
Jiguro was facing him, headed for him how. He swallowed heavily and said in a tone of prayer, “Teika uru… It's over. The hunters have become the hunted.”
Jiguro pointed out the other archer to the girl, then picked up the shield with the arrow stuck in it. He advanced on Maran, moving quickly. The girl shot three arrows in quick succession, one-two-three, and Maran heard another scream from overhead.
Maran couldn’t believe his eyes. He had to get out of here, but he’d be discovered immediately if he ran. Another arrow whooshed toward him, cutting air; the tree he hid behind saved him, but he might not be so lucky again.
There were dull striking sounds from farther into the forest. Yukim and Doras were probably fighting Jiguro. He moved to help them and heard a twig snap.
The girl’s eyes locked on the tree Maran was using as cover. She sprinted at him, bow held at her side. Maran gritted his teeth and tried to ignore the pain of his wounded side. He aimed an arrow at the girl. She was so close that he couldn’t possibly miss.
The arrow flew at the girl. She saw it an instant before it connected and ducked under it in a tight roll. She thrust her bow aside and rolled again to a nearby tree where she picked up a spear. Then she sprang to her feet and kept running straight for Maran.
No. Impossible.
Not impossible. The girl flew at him, thrusting her spear into his shoulder and pinning him to the ground. She landed on him to hold him still, her face hidden in darkness. He could see nothing of her but her white teeth in the gloom.
The girl’s pin had broken off part of the arrow in Maran’s side. Maran groaned and tried to twist away, but the girl held him firmly in place.
“Don’t kill him.” Jiguro’s shadow rose behind the girl. “Tie him up so he can’t use his hands. Then treat him.”
Maran closed his eyes. He should have been home by the fire with his wife tonight. Tears slid down his cheeks. He couldn’t return to her now. All that awaited him in the future was disgrace and dishonor. He reached for his own quiver of poisoned arrows. All he needed to do was pierce his own flesh with an arrowhead, and it would all be over.
The girl reached out and seized his hands. She was close enough now that he could see her face. Her shirt was loose, and beneath it, he saw tightly coiled rope binding her chest.
She wound rope around her chest to defend against the arrows...
Maran danced on the edge of consciousness, listening to a beautiful melody carried by the wind. Once, he thought he caught sight of his mother's face, though she had been dead for many years.
When Maran came back to awareness, the girl had finished disarming him and binding his hands. His wounds made him weak as a kitten. Even if his poisoned arrows were still in reach, he didn't have the strength to pierce himself with one.
Maran felt cold all over. The front of his shirt was soaked with blood from his spear wound. That must be why he felt so feeble and exhausted. He opened his eyes wider with effort, feeling salt crust at the corners: proof that he'd been crying before. The last thing he saw before he passed out was dappled light on the forest leaves.
***
"Do you hear that?" Kii poked Sansa. "D'you hear? That's the Conductor singing, isn't it?" she whispered.
Sansa nodded. She sat with Kii near the edge of the clearing that held the Boundary Tree, listening to Sari sing and play her harp. A few other Sadan Taram were gathered around her, silent and subdued. They were used to climbing this hill with a whole crowd of people and having a large audience. Since everyone had been scared away from the hill, the Sadan Taram were alone.
“Quiet, Kii.” Sari opened her eyes and stopped strumming the harp. “It’s time for the ritual song.”
The Sadan Taram fell completely silent. Kii, chastened, snapped her mouth shut. Sari’s song washed over her, bright and clear and clean. Kii couldn’t see the spirits, but she thought she could feel them swirling and fluttering around her.
Kii felt something sharp graze her arm and looked around. She’d been hit by a small stone. When she looked into the woods where the stone had come from, she saw Balsa standing there.
Balsa was okay. She’d made it.
Kii’s heart pounded loud in her ears. She was so relieved. She wanted to run to Balsa, but she stayed still. If Sari had to scold her again, she might have to start the ritual song over.
Balsa gestured for Kii to come closer. Kii crept on her hands and knees until she reached the forest where Balsa was standing. The smell of blood washed over her, and she looked Balsa up and down in alarm. There was blood on her cheek, and more on her hands.
“Are you hurt?” Kii asked in a trembling voice.
Balsa shook her head. “It’s not my blood.”
“But your shirt’s cut open…” Kii poked at a slashed hole in Balsa’s shirt.
Balsa gasped in pain. “Don’t touch that.” She grimaced, more in irritation than anything. Her wound was a shallow cut: no worse. “You shouldn’t touch me at all. The bad guys were using poisoned arrows.” She took a few deep breaths, in and out. “Anyway, your Conductor is safe. We managed to capture all the archers, but we’ll need your help carrying them all to the next town.”
Kii nodded. “Should we try staying in the area and catching more, so that they don’t try to attack us again in the Valley of the Forest King?”
Balsa shook her head. “We can’t linger. We don’t know who sent these men, and we can’t afford to pry just yet. If it turns out that the Aru clan lord is behind these attacks, then your people won’t just be in trouble this year. They’ll be in trouble forever.”
Kii swallowed heavily. “Oh.” She remembered what Sari had told her on the way up the hill. “I, uh, didn’t think of that. I understand.”
Balsa nodded sharply, then turned around and ran into the woods, swift and silent like a wild animal. Kii watched her go, feeling heavy as if a stone was lodged in her stomach.
I know I kill people for a living, but if I didn't, they would kill me.
Balsa’s remembered words turned around in Kii's mind. Kii closed her eyes and breathed. Then she opened her eyes, turned around, and returned to her friends.
No comments:
Post a Comment