Where the Wind Takes Us
Part 3 - The Wind's Direction
Chapter 1 - Mother's Pendant
“You cannot possibly depart today,” he said. “The weather is terrible.”
Rumina, Azal’s niece, bowed her head. “Forgive us, but we must depart. We cannot delay. The ceremony to be held in the Valley of the Forest King is scant days away, and we must make the necessary preparations.”
Azal’s eyebrows drew together. “Ah, yes. The Sadan Taram are due to arrive soon, are they not?”
“Yes,” Rumina said. “They are due to arrive the day after tomorrow.”
“I understand that they keep a very punctual schedule,” Azal said. “I never understood the need for such rigor; they’re simply traveling musicians.”
A flash of discomfort made Kumu look away from Azal. He likely didn’t enjoy hearing the Sadan Taram disparaged. Kumu and the Sadan Taram were both descended from the Tahsa people. He looks like one of them. Kumu was thirteen, with thick eyebrows and a stubborn expression. It was unfortunate that he didn’t see himself as part of the Magua clan, and that he so closely resembled his father’s people. He looked very like the Aru clan patriarch who had passed away earlier in the year, and there was no trace of his mother’s lineage in his face.
In contrast, Rumina was a representative mixture of both her parents, and her mannerisms and facial features were a lot like Oria’s, who was Azal’s younger sister.
Rumina lifted her head. “I’m afraid we simply cannot linger,” she said. “We have three funerals to prepare for at the estate, and the Sadan Taram also have their own business to attend to.”
Azal nodded indulgently. “Three funerals, you say? How unfortunate. I will speed you on your way, then.”
Looking at his niece recalled his sister to Azal’s mind. He had loved her, and she was dead. She would want him to take care of her children’s future, and the future of the province. That was what mattered above everything.
You trusted your children into my care, Oria. I will do my best for them; I swear it.
Oria was no longer around to see to her children’s futures. He understood her desires, though he hadn’t told her children about them. He wasn’t sure they would understand, even though he did. Keeping the secret was painful for him, but he accepted the responsibility of it as his own. This was what it meant to be the lord of a clan, and to rule his people.
Azal had resisted becoming a clan lord tooth and nail. It was never what he’d wanted for his life, but it was too late now for him to chase what he wanted. His father had been a very different kind of man. Azal suspected his father of trying to assassinate the Sadan Taram.
You are clan lord. Any ends you take justify the means. The well-being of all our people rests on your head. Never second-guess yourself or your decisions.
Azal didn’t really miss his father, but he was glad that he understood his father’s way of thinking. The idea that he might have to harm the Sadan Taram--or someone else--someday sickened him. Even for the sake of the province, he wasn’t sure he could do something like that.
“Before that,” Kumu said, stepping a little ahead of his sister. “We wrote a letter asking to amend the terms of my sister’s marriage contract. Did you get it?”
His tone was rude, and this wasn’t really the appropriate forum to discuss such matters. “I receive many letters,” Azal said, not bothering to hide his irritation.
“I’ve asked for half the profits of the maharan wood trade that the Magua clan has been doing this year to be transferred to our family’s estate,” Kumu said.
“Half, hm? Well, I will read it over and get back to you. The trade deal we’ve made is significant enough that King Ihan will need to be informed. For now, you should be on your way.”
Magua clan retainers escorted Azar’s niece and nephew out of the room. Kumu likely thought the deal he was proposing was a good one that would provide for his future. Azal wasn’t so sure. Splitting resources on such a scale would give more power to the Tahsa faction in the province and weaken the Magua clan’s influence.
I never asked to be a clan lord. He sighed.
He wished he’d been able to help his sister. Lord Shisol had been a good man, but his retainers were mainly Tahsa loyalists and didn’t take kindly to what they considered a foreigner being in their midst. It was unfair of them, and even cruel, to judge Oria because of her clan, but that was what had happened. He wished he’d known more so that he could have done something to mitigate her suffering.
Azal should tell Rumina her mother’s secret. Everyone thought Lady Oria had died of a sudden accident--it was true her death was sudden--but the secret lay in the Valley of the Forest King, where none but the leader of the Aru clan and the leader of the Sadan Taram could walk. Rumina had never participated in a Sadan Taram ritual. She had no idea what she would encounter in that valley.
Azal tapped his fingers against the side of his leg, thinking. Then he made his decision. “Toukul!” he called out.
The retainer entered and bowed.
Azal gave Toukul his secret orders in a hushed tone.
***
Rumina knew that they’d entered the Aru domain when the quality of the roads that their carriage rolled over became obviously worse. The roads of the Aru domain were made of white stone and well-maintained; even a flash flood wouldn’t destroy the road. In contrast, the roads in the Aru domain hadn’t been repaired in so long that in many places, stone gave way to dirt. On rainy days, the dirt churned to mud, making stretches of the road impassable.
When I get married, I’ll finally be able to do something about these roads, Rumina thought. She was riding alone in her carriage. Ever since her parents’ accident, she and Kumu never rode together. This way, if one of them suffered the same fate as their parents, the other would survive.
It started to rain. It had been raining on the day that her parents had died. Rumina closed her eyes.
Mom… dad…
Dying… it must have been terrifying. She hoped that it hadn’t hurt. She hoped that they’d died before knowing it, so that their last memories wouldn’t be painful.
Hot tears fell down Rumina’s face. She covered her face with her hands. She’d almost never wept when her parents were alive. She couldn’t cry at home, where she could be heard and possibly witnessed. Shielded by the noise of the rain, Rumina swallowed down harsh gasps in her throat. Mom, mom…. I miss you so much.
If only she could see her mother one more time. She wanted to talk to her, to hug her, to feel the warmth of her mother’s arms around her shoulders. If she could have that, she’d never ask for anything else.
Rumina felt the weight of stolen time. She wasn’t ready to lose her parents even now, when they were already gone. They should still be with her. Her mother should have died of old age after a long decline. She should still be here so that they could talk about everything. There were so many things Rumina wanted to say to her parents, but she’d never get the chance. When she had learned of their deaths, she’d been shocked to her core. Even now, she begged to the heavens for mercy. She wanted to unwind time and restore her family. None of this was ever supposed to happen.
Rumina imagined waking up and going to the garden where her mother sat, listening to the Sadan Taram play happy songs on their instruments. Her mother hummed along at her garden table and wove the flowers in her vase into crowns.
Rumina’s mother had loved music, especially love songs. She’d called Rumina her beautiful Tol Asa child, which made Agachi and the other retainers descended from the Tahsa people nervous. Her father had tried to smooth the way for Oria, but she'd made it difficult. Whenever a bad mood was on her, she would shut herself in her room and sing love songs. She loved it when the Sadan Taram came to visit. She could spend hours talking to the leader of the Sadan Taram, Sari.
Often times, Sari would tell the story of the Tol Asa people to Rumina’s mother.
A long time ago, the Tahsa people lived in Rakul Province, herding sheep and cows and growing grain. They lived peacefully with their neighbors, mostly keeping to themselves. There was no intermarriage between the Tahsa and the fledgling Rotan clans at all until one year when the two peoples decided to hold a shared festival. The festival was held in honor of Hanma, a star goddess.
Hanma was said to be the bride of the God of the Heavens. From spring until fall, she lived on the earth, blessing it with her kindness and warmth so that the plants would grow. But in winter, when demons and monsters attacked the land, she returned to her husband in the sky for protection, only returning when the danger was past.
At the end of harvest season, it was the Tahsa people's custom to hold a festival in Hanma's honor to thank her for her bounty.
To the Rotans, this was a new custom, but a welcome one. It put them on better terms with the Tahsa people. On the night of Hanma's Festival, men and women from the Rotan clans and the Tahsa people were permitted to meet, fall in love and marry.
That story had special meaning to Rumina’s mother. She was a woman from the Magua clan who had married into the Aru clan of the Tahsa people.
One year, Sari had given Rumina’s mother a small pendant as a gift, which she wore forever after. Her mother wanted to hold another festival to Hanma, though of course the goddess wasn’t widely venerated any longer. Rumina wished that her mother had been able to revive the festival with Sari. It would have made her so happy.
Rumina remembered the rumors that her mother had gone into the Valley of the Forest King and caused a curse on their family twenty years before. Rumina wanted to know the truth. She really hoped that Sari knew. She was looking forward to asking Sari when she visited.
Looking out the window of her carriage, Rumina bowed her head and prayed for the spirits of her parents to be at peace.
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