Beyond the Werefox Whistle - Part 1 - A Seal is Broken - Chapter 2 - Bandits and Shadows

 

Beyond the Werefox Whistle 

Written by Uehashi Nahoko

Illustrated by Yumiko Shirai

Part 1: A Seal is Broken

Chapter 2: Bandits and Shadows

All Sayo wanted to do was lie down and rest. She closed her eyes, thinking to take a few breaths and try again to stand, but she wound up falling asleep. Some time later—she had no idea how long—a voice startled her awake.

“No, I’m sure of it. It was a hakage.”

Suzu’s voice. Sayo recognized it.

“What?” a male voice asked. “You said he was wearing a navy blue belt and a sword. Sounds like a guard from the castle. They’re on duty from dawn to dusk. It’s past sunset now, so if he was here, he’ll be back at the castle by now.”

“You’re right,” Suzu said. “I just walked around the market and didn’t see any castle guards.”

“Sounds like a freak accident to me, them meeting like that. Hopefully nothing will come of it.”

The man’s voice was deep and low and encouraged Sayo to go back to sleep, but she forced her eyes open. She was so tired. The memories swirling around in her mind of past danger and her mother faded into the waking world like a forgotten dream.

Something heavy dropped to the floor close to where Sayo lay and jolted her upright.

“Oh, sorry I woke you up.” Suzu noticed Sayo’s movement and helped her sit upright.

Sayo’s eyes tracked to her basket. It was no longer full of herbs. Instead, she saw dried fish, seaweed, salt, and other things. “So much… how?” She looked up at Suzu.

Why was Suzu taking such good care of her? She was suspicious of the woman’s motives.

Suzu rubbed the back of her neck and her cheeks colored. She smiled as she looked away.

Sayo wanted to keep treating her with caution, but she was sincerely grateful for Suzu’s help. She straightened her back and bowed her head to Suzu. “Thank you.”

“No need for that,” Suzu said. “I just did what I told you I would do.” Suzu spoke quickly, then picked up Ichita, who was clinging to her feet. “Are you hungry? I bought some sticky rice cakes at the market.”

The sweet scent of the cakes tickled Sayo’s nose. She felt suddenly, urgently hungry. She noticed several sticky rice cakes being roasted over a low fire nearby.

Suzu turned around and called out to the man sitting on the porch, “Dairou! Dinner’s ready! We’ve got sticky rice cakes!”

“Oh,” Dairou said, turning around. He looked to be about twenty-five or twenty-six years old. He offered Sayo a pleasant smile. Like his sister, Sayo sensed a great deal of inner strength in him.

Dairou sat down close to the fire, looking Sayo up and down. “You’ve grown into a beautiful young lady. You look very like your mother.”

Sayo held her breath.

Mother.

Sayo tried not to think about her mother. When she’d been very young, Oharu had asked her if she missed her mother or was lonely without her, but she’d shaken her head at those questions. Her grandmother had told her that her mother had died when she was five years old. She didn’t remember her life before coming to live with her grandmother, so she’d never grieved for her mother. The word itself, “mother,” seemed to come from another place entirely. The word wasn’t something she understood.

But Dairou had known her mother, and the abstract concept of her mother’s previous existence became immediate and very real. Sayo gasped.

Dairou reached out and touched her shoulder. The gentle touch made Sayo relax a bit. She realized she’d been clenching her teeth and loosened her jaw.

“I knew your mother,” Dairou said. “Do you remember what happened to her? Probably not. I’ll tell you the whole story later.”

With that, Dairou let go of Sayo and turned to Suzu. “Which store did you buy the rice cakes from, sis?”

“Yahagi’s store. I also bought some eggplant miso rice cakes, your favorite.”

“Oh! Thanks for that.” Dairou smiled brightly. He reached for a rice cake that was roasting over the fire.

For some reason, Sayo felt like Dairou was familiar. Had she heard his name before today? She couldn’t remember.

Suzu placed a warm rice cake in Sayo’s hand. Sayo blew on it and took a bite. Sweet bean paste filled the cake. Eating something so filling and sweet made Sayo feel much more at ease.

Sayo didn’t like that they were all alone in the shop, though. The market wasn’t nearly as safe at night as it was during the day. Young men roved in ill-tempered packs after sunset, searching for easy places to steal from. Didn’t the wares here need guards?

Sayo was about to say something when Dairou chuckled. “Worried about security, are you? Don’t be. I sell medicine, but if any thief tries to take it, it’ll turn into poison. Just relax and eat.”

Medicine could turn into poison? Sayo had never heard of that before. It sounded impossible.

If Dairou was worried about the safety of his family or his goods, he didn’t show it. Sayo shrugged and decided to take his advice for the moment. The rice cakes were really delicious. She’d never seen so many set out for a single meal. Dairou and his family must be wealthy.

Dairou finished his rice cake in two bites and grabbed a second one from off the fire with his bare hands. He rose to his feet and moved for the door. Before he left, he said, “Sayo, you’ll stay at our house tonight.”

“Our home is in a grove of plum trees near Nagato Village,” Suzu said. “It’s a little far from here, but we have horses in the stables, so it’s easy enough to ride here and back. There’s a hot spring at the back of the house. Soaking in the hot water is like being in heaven. I’m sure you’ll like it there.”

Sayo thought for a while, silent while she ate her rice cake. Then she looked up. “Thank you for saving me and for treating me so well. But today is New Year’s Eve. My grandmother passed away this fall, so I must hold a memorial service for her spirit at our home.”

Dairou looked down at Sayo, smiling a little. “We’re not slave traders or murderers. You have nothing to fear from us.”

Sayo looked straight into Dairou's eyes. She couldn’t sense any of his thoughts or feelings; the surface of his mind was perfectly still. But she’d sensed no threat from him or Suzu so far. They were trustworthy, as far as people went. She still wanted to refuse Dairou's invitation, but she felt like if she did, her life as she knew it would come to an end. Whatever she chose now, she would not be able to continue living as she’d been.

“I believe you,” Sayo said, “but I really must grieve for my grandmother this evening.”

Dairou nodded. “Very well. We won’t force you to come, of course. But aren’t you curious about your past?”

Sayo blinked. She wanted to know more about her mother, but she’d lived her whole life in ignorance. There was an inertial pull within her to remain the way she’d been, at least for a little while longer.

Dairou chuckled nervously. “Well, it’s no matter. The secrets we have won’t grow legs and run off. I can send a messenger to you when the plum blossoms bloom. You’re welcome to visit us then.”

Sayo thanked him, then picked up her heavy basket. She bowed before she left.

Dairou watched her retreating back. “She’s quiet, and more mature than she looks. She doesn’t trust easily and has a strong mind.”

“Is it safe to let her go by herself?” Suzu asked. “Her house isn’t far, but by the time she reaches the mountain passes, it’ll be getting dark.”

“I doubt she’s foolish enough to travel the entire way alone,” he said. “She’ll probably go with the other women to the edge of the village. The rest of the way should be safe enough.”

***

The sun was already setting; shadows of people and trees grew long. Sayo was afraid of traversing the mountain path alone. Thieves and bandits were common worries at this time of year.

Fortunately, she didn’t have to wait long before she saw a group of women from the village ahead of her. Sayo called out to them, and they gladly joined her as she set off on her journey home.

Eventually, they came to a place where the mountain path split into two. If Sayo went down one path, she would reach the village. If she went straight, she would arrive at the back of at her house.

“It’s dangerous for you to go alone,” a woman said. “I know it’s a detour, but how about staying in the village for the night?”

Many other women agreed because it was getting dark. Sayo hadn’t expected to return home this late, so she carried no lantern. The village women were kind as a rule and would certainly lend her a lantern if she asked.

But tonight was New Years’ Eve: the night of the festival. The village men would light all the lamps in their homes with a ritual object that was only ever used during the festival. The pure light would burn until the new year officially began. These lights were termed “New Year’s Fire.”

Each year, the village midwife wandered the village during the festival, fulfilling her duties. Her role was both grim and joyful: many babies lived, but some would always die no matter the midwife’s knowledge or expertise. Her palms were always bloody.

Sayo’s grandmother had told her of this.

“The people in the village respect us, but they fear us greatly. This is why we do not live in the village. Did you ever notice that the people who come to summon us always come in pairs? Both birth and death are close to the afterlife. It is dangerous to go alone, so it is customary to come together. We must be fully aware that we are feared. Midwives are pariahs: corrupted by the influence of death. People believe that if they break bread with us, they will come to share our curse.”

For the past two years, Sayo had come to the village with her grandmother during the festival. They weren’t permitted to light any lamps or lanterns, or even to touch them, so that their touch would not sully the pure light.

So when the village women offered to loan Sayo a lantern, she politely declined. “Thank you very much. But it will be dark by the time we get to the village, and you will need the light as well. I’m sure I’ll manage.” \

Saying this, Sayo bowed her head, and the women didn’t press her.

And then she was alone. Sayo took a deep breath and felt the tension leave her shoulders. Being alone wasn’t always the same as being lonely.

The sun peeked over the horizon: it was almost completely set. The mountain path was bathed in blue-purple shadows. As she walked, she heard something moving behind her—or someone. Multiple people: she could sense them now. She picked up her feet and started to run.

The basket on Sayo’s back was heavy. She couldn’t run as fast as she wanted. When she turned around, she saw shadowy figures getting closer and closer to her.

Bandits. They had to be. Sayo cursed her luck. They must have been hiding along the mountain path, watching those returning from the village. People traveling away from the village would be in small groups—easy pickings for the bandits.

Sayo regretted leaving the women behind earlier.

The men were fast and closing in. Realizing that she couldn’t escape, Sayo struggled to free herself from the basket she was carrying, swung it around in both hands and threw it hard at the approaching bandits.

The man in front was caught off guard and tried to protect his face, but he was too slow. The heavy basket hit him in the face, knocking him down.

The two men behind Sayo began fighting over the basket. The man who was hit in the face with it let out a terrifying yell, jumped up, and chased after Sayo.

Sayo ran for her life. She left the road and entered the mountains, her whole body getting tangled in the bamboo grass. She fled, falling whenever she hit a particularly dense patch of grass or shrubbery.

But the man didn’t give up. He pursued her, even when she left the path. He closed the distance and yanked her up roughly by the collar.

Her throat tightened. Sayo screamed and clawed at the man’s hands, but he didn’t even react. With incredible strength, the man lifted Sayo into the air as if she weighed no more than a newborn puppy.

There was a buzzing like an agitated hive of bees ringing in Sayo’s ears. The man jerked violently and fell back, letting Sayo go in the process. He collapsed to the earth like a tall stalk of bamboo grass cut off at the base.

Someone else was here. Sayo saw their back not too far away, though the figure blended into the darkness. She hadn’t noticed them before. It was as if they’d just popped out of the ground. She took a step back in surprise.

Sayo’s attacker got back to his feet, yelled angrily, and pulled out a short sword from a scabbard at his hip.

“I’m going to kill you, brat!”

The figure in front of Sayo turned around. It was a young man, bare-handed with a slight build. He was much shorter than the bandit attacking Sayo.

The bandit’s short sword flashed as he swung it down at the young man. Sayo flinched and closed her eyes so that she wouldn’t see another innocent person be slashed open or stabbed.

There was a strange whistling sound, and then Sayo’s attacker went silent, collapsing to the ground again. He didn’t rise.

Sayo opened her eyes and tried to get a better look at the young man. The young man faced her, a curious expression on his face. Before Sayo could even gasp, he put his arms around Sayo’s waist, lifted her up like a sack of flour and carried her over the bushes and up the mountain path.

Once they reached the mountain path, the young man put Sayo down, then backtracked a bit to the bandits who were still fighting over her basket.

The sun was gone; only thin moonlight illuminated the bandits and their activities. Sayo watched the young man incapacitate the bandits, but she couldn’t say she understood what he was doing. The young man’s shadow split apart from him; he went still, and then the two bandits screamed, fell over and went silent.

Sayo didn’t move; she felt like she could barely breathe. The young man glowed at the edges like the moon above. His eyes were white-bright and shining like a rabid beast’s. He re-packed Sayo’s basket, picked it up and returned to her.

When the young man reached her, he held out his hand. There was blood on it. Sayo smelled the tang of iron and felt fear suffuse her entire body. She shook all over; her teeth chattered.

Sayo stumbled back from the young man, scrabbling away on all fours until her back rested against a tree.

The young man frowned at this hand, wiped it off on his robe and offered it to her again. He hadn’t said a word, but his actions showed his concern for her.

As he stood there doing nothing but offering her his reassurance, Sayo got her trembling under control. She reached out for his hand tentatively and squeezed it. The young man placed his other hand over hers and helped her to her feet.

When Sayo was up, the young man didn’t let go of her hand. He led her back to the mountain path. They walked together, side-by-side and hand-in-hand. It was so dark that Sayo couldn’t see her own feet, but the young man’s steps were sure. If the darkness bothered him, he showed no sign of it. He didn’t trip over a single root or stone.

Sayo’s home came into view through the trees. The young man stopped, took off her basket, and helped Sayo lift it onto her back.

“Thank you very much,” Sayo said. She bowed. When she looked up, the young man was walking away.

Sayo stood on her doorstep for a long time watching the young man’s back recede into the mountain forest.

Who is he? Why did he help me? Did he kill those bandits? Sayo wondered.

But she couldn’t ask him. By the time she thought to call out to him, he was already gone.