Valley of the Shadow

by Michael Gardner

  She heard an arrow whizzing towards her and prepared herself for the flames. The arrow pierced her heart.

  * * *

  Kashi (Ancient Western China)

  2099 BC

  When Daiyu returned to Kashi after the war, for some unfathomable reason she felt as if Qian would be waiting for her. Perhaps she had taken Phylasso’s promise she could save everyone she loved too literally. Qian had, in fact, been dead a long time. She told his family she was a distant relative. They invited her to stay. She married and was a good wife, although she could bear no children. Her husband loved her but he took another wife who was fertile and bore him two sons and a daughter. Despite the hurt she was grateful. The thought of outliving her own children time and again was a torment she knew she couldn’t endure. Eventually the day came when she knew she would have to leave. The villagers had been spreading evil rumours. She knelt next to the water at the edge of the rice field and looked at her reflection. She hadn’t aged a day past her prime. Her husband and his second wife had grey hair. With nowhere to go, she put one foot in front of the next, deciding her destination would be the place where she stopped. She ran up the valley through the long grass, climbing higher and higher. The earth determined her destination. She arrived at the edge of a ravine like a deep gash with sharp jagged rocks far below.

  “Is this the only way?” she cried out.

  The wind moaned in reply. Her throat was tight but she opened her mouth and sang every sad song she knew to the wind. Sometimes the wind accompanied her in haunting harmony and sometimes, dropping, it listened as a respectful audience. When she had finished singing, she closed her eyes, fell from the cliff and briefly imagined she was flying. As her body came to rest at the bottom of the ravine, she saw the vision of the black bird again. It was a raven. She opened her eyes and heard herself cry with a newborn voice.

  From time to time, she felt the epiphaneia as other Khryseoi drifted across the land. She spoke to them about their experiences of death. Many said their spirits slept in the Valley of the Shadow before returning to the earth, months, years or sometimes centuries later. For Daiyu, the instant one mortal body released her spirit she was swept into the next. She had lived a long time, always returning to the village in Kashi, where she would be reared by its people. She had married many husbands. Some she loved. Others gave her good reasons to visit the cliff before the rumours began and the villagers suspected she was different.

  * * *

  329 BC

  Yu changed everything. He was the most devoted husband. He told her he knew she had magical abilities but that he loved her anyway. She convinced herself he’d accepted her because it was good for his reputation; a man with long white hair having a bride untouched by age. He didn’t take a second wife, even though it meant he had no heirs. She departed for the cliff even though she didn’t want to leave him. Her gifts could not be hidden and the villagers had already started to gossip. Sometimes they saw her as a blessing as they placed great value in luck, but that lasted only as long as her eternal youth could be reasonably explained. After a while she would be named a witch or a ghost. She could deny nothing. As the Greeks said, she was Daemones Khryseoi. As she carried her skirts above the long grass, she regretted leaving Yu so late. She didn’t want to bring him into disrepute. She sang to the wind as she hurried to the ravine. The wind did not join her. She reached the edge and spread her arms wide, ready to fly. She heard Yu calling her to wait. She turned to see he was striding up the hill after her, his cheeks flushed with exertion. He begged her not to jump.

  Her heart split. “I must!” she said.

  “No!”

  “I wish I could help you to understand, but I cannot!”

  Yu continued to stumble towards her with his arms outstretched. Tears rolled down his cheeks, leaving dark splotches on his silk robes. She turned and jumped, hearing Yu cry out in anguish.

  Life began again, somewhere nearby. As soon as she could travel, she returned to the village. It was easy to get them to accept her. She had known every family for generations. She married again and was a good wife for as long as it could last. The seasons came and went, her husband turned grey and the whispers began again. Her youth is unnatural. She’s possessed by a daemon. She’s cast a spell over her husband. She readied herself for the journey to the ravine. As she gathered her skirts to run, she saw someone walking up the valley towards the village. He was dressed in black with a bow and quiver at his back. She knew him: Raven, the archer who had shot her through the heart when in the embrace of the pile. She hadn’t known when he would come, but now he was here, she knew her dream of ever having an ordinary life was over.

  ~ Chapter 10 ~

  Langkasuka (Ancient Malaysia)

  261 BC

  Raven ventured deep into the steadily-thickening rain forest, every tree of which competed for sunlight at the top of the canopy. He felt the presence of Kaha’i, somewhere. Slender vines spiralled around immense trunks, stealing their way upwards. One snagged his arm. He pulled it free and felt small hooks tear his flesh. Whining mosquitoes were drawn to his fresh blood. He continued to search feeling miserable, hungry and now covered in itchy welts. Noon was as dim as dusk, reminding him of Illyria during the war. The night found him blind. If not for occasional glimpses of stars and moon, he could have imagined he was back in the Valley of the Shadow. He slept little, listening to the hoots and whistles of creatures moving in the branches above.

  Dim daylight returned. He trudged onward, the thick leaf litter silencing his footfalls. The forest floor was cool and still but he could hear the wind rustling leaves in the upper canopy. He wondered why Kaha’i had chosen to live in such an inhospitable place. Raven had tried to penetrate the jungle once before during summertime. The relentless heat and humidity had forced him to turn back.

  Near midday, when the sunlight hung in vertical shafts, he caught the faint mineral scent of water. The air freshened till every lungful was a cool draught. He found a restless river bubbling over boulders smoothed by time. He blinked, seeing the open sky for the first time in days. A green mountain rose into the sky, its peak lost in the clouds. He dropped his bow, quiver and pack, stripped and eased himself into a deep pool away from the rapids. The water soothed his skin and quenched his thirst.

  He marched on, leaving the river as he searched deep into the forest. After several days of negotiating this wilderness, his water skin and stomach were empty. He chewed his last ration of dried meat. Despite having lived wild in the western lands, the rainforest was a new experience. One poorly-chosen meal, no matter how appetising, would send him back to the Valley of the Shadow. The birds who fed in the lower forest were almost invisibly small and brown. This kept their knowledge of what was edible a secret. In his hunger, their beautiful song seemed to tempt him to sample from the forest’s bounty. He saw a bunch of plump orange-red berries which made his mouth water. With a sigh, he straightened his back and shuffled onward using his bow as a walking stick. He’d endured hunger during the war. He knew his stomach would shrink and quieten soon enough. He spied snakes with green backs and yellow stomachs hanging in the branches above him. They vanished as soon as they heard him clip an arrow into his bowstring.

  Torrential rain restored his supply of water but halted his progress. The ground became slick and treacherous. Knowing he could ill-afford an injured ankle, he huddled under a plant with waxy, plate-like leaves and waited for the rains to pass.

  The rain stopped and he moved on feeling delirious with hunger. After some time, he became aware he was being watched. He didn’t notice the monkeys, who could hear him coming from afar, even when his footfalls were silent as far as he was concerned. He’d heard his treetop companions but had seen only empty branches swaying. He stopped to attempt to detect his stalker and sensed a solitary beast drifting between the trees. Its breath was hot and it lapped the air with a long tongue, tasting his scent. It was uncertain of him as prey but also aware of his weakened state. He’d al
lowed it to get too close. He felt its strength; jaws that could crush bones, claws sharp enough to tear through the toughest skin. Raven’s heartbeat was furious. He saw his hunter ahead, a huge copper-brown cat with black stripes. He took a sharp breath as he measured its length, at least twenty hands without the tail. The cat loosed a rumbling growl and set out towards him, aware it had been seen. Raven’s hands shook as he readied an arrow and his fingers slipped on the wet bowstring. He aimed for the beast’s eye. The arrow clipped its ear. The cat seemed unperturbed and closed. Raven dropped his bow and drew the black blade. It sang a long metallic note. Insects stopped their soft chattering as its edge disturbed the air. The forest was quiet. He gripped his hilt tight, ready to swing. The forest held its breath. The black blade seemed no more than a stick against the beast. Raven glanced to either side. Long smooth tree trucks extended into the canopy and safety but were too slippery to climb. The cat dropped into a crouch and tasted the air one last time. Its yellow eyes locked onto him. Raven’s eyes watered as he held the gaze. He presented his sword, hoping the cat would understand he had a sting. Its white cheeks contracted, baring ivory fangs. Extending a paw, the cat raked the ground with long black claws. Raven nodded. He swung the sword through the air, hoping to scare the beast away.

  As soon as Raven was off balance, the cat leaped, pinning him to the earth. Its breath smelled of half-digested meat. He felt the tips of its fangs against his throat. He closed his eyes, waiting for the brief moment of pain that would precede his journey to the Valley of the Shadow. The cat rested its teeth against his neck without moving. Each second was a lifetime. Then it released him, licked his neck and face and strode away. It was as if the cat had wanted at least one taste of its prey. Raven sat up and watched it walk away, a phantom merging with the trees.

  A large brown hand filled his vision, offering him assistance to stand. Without thinking, Raven accepted it and found his feet. He stood chest high to his rescuer. He looked up and wrapped his free arm around the man’s broad body. It wasn’t until he’d let go that he wondered why he hadn’t felt the epiphaneia. “Kaha’i! Was it you... with the cat...”

  Kaha’i nodded. He stood three hands taller than Raven, was lean and muscled with russet skin. He wore only a loincloth. Raven remembered Kaha’i having long hair plaited into a braid, but now he was as bald as a river boulder. Kaha’i looked Raven up and down, eyes lingering on the black sword as Raven sheathed it. His mouth twitched. He took Raven by the arm and led him into the rainforest.

  “Where are we going?” said Raven, breathing hard as he tried to keep up with Kaha’i’s long strides. Kaha’i urged him on with a casual gesture. “Slow down!” said Raven, stretching his arm out to a tree trunk. The forest shifted before his eyes, trees appearing to walk by themselves. The air was thick and close. He felt Kaha’i’s hand engulf his brow. The air cooled and his breathing returned to a steady rhythm. Kaha’i lifted him under the arms, rested him over a shoulder and strode on. The forest floor was a blur of browned leaves. Raven fell asleep. He woke some time later. It was dim. The only light visible came from beyond a curtain of dangling roots. He lay on a floor of reeds woven like a broad, flat basket. His head swam as he pulled himself into a sitting position. He felt a hand cradle his nape. Another held a wooden cup to his mouth. He drank. The liquid was thick and sweet with herb infused honey. His ears buzzed with a rush of blood. Kaha’i sat opposite him, gazing at him with his large brown eyes. “Thank you,” said Raven. “Is there more?”

  Kaha’i refilled the cup from a dark wooden jug. Raven drank deeply and presented his cup for more. “An excellent brew! What is it?”

  Kaha’i’s chin drooped. After a moment, he opened his mouth wide and encouraged Raven to look inside. Where his tongue had been, Kaha’i had a scarred stump.

  “What happened?” asked Raven, unable to avert his gaze. Raven had known Kaha’i when he was full of stories and conversation.

  Kaha’i flicked his fingers in a series of gestures. Raven shrugged. Kaha’i pressed a finger to Raven’s chest and then furled the backs of his fingers under Raven’s chin, slowly turning his hand to present his palm. Raven hoped he’d understood. “I’m still known as Raven,” he said.

  Kaha’i linked his thumbs and flapped his fingers. Raven nodded. He rose to his feet on unsteady legs. Kaha’i extended a hand but Raven shook his head. Kaha’i clapped his hands once, laughing. It was a guttural, joyful sound. Raven shrugged and opened his palms. Kaha’i gestured the flapping bird and rolled his forefingers under his chin. Raven nodded. “Ah, I spoke using gestures!”

  Kaha’i nodded.

  Raven steadied himself against a root and followed it with his eye to where it pierced the leaf litter. It was one of many, supporting a tree with a trunk so thick it would take thirty men holding hands to circle its girth. He ran his fingernails against a root, feeling fragments of dead wood crumble away. The tree had grown over another tree, the latter using the former to win the endless war for survival. “We need to talk!” he said. “How do we begin?”

  * * *

  As the weeks passed, Kaha’i spent as much time teaching Raven to find sustenance as he did teaching him to sign. He applied a salve smelling of lemons and lavender to Raven’s insect bites, although neither plant was anywhere to be found. Raven sniffed his arm. The scent was pungent but he decided not to complain as he listened to the constant, discontented whine of mosquitoes. Kaha’i returned to tapping a tree, making a neat notch in the trunk with a small stone axe.

  “Have you given any thought to my questions?” said Raven.

  Speak with your hands as well as your mouth, said Kaha’i. He wedged a hollow stalk into the notch. Raven wondered how Kaha’i, with his back turned, knew he hadn’t been signing. Sap flowed from the tap. Kaha’i collected the syrupy drops in a cupped leaf.

  “Let’s start with your name,” said Raven, hands fumbling as he tried to remember the correct gestures.

  My name is who I am, Kaha’i signed with his free hand. Without it I am nobody. So, I take ‘Nobody’ as my new name.

  “Nobody?”

  Yes. It sounds better in my language. He cleared a patch of soil with a sweep of his palm and wrote some letters with his forefinger.

  “Tak seorangpun,” said Raven, chewing the words.

  You can shorten it to Tak to save my ears the pain of your pronunciation!

  “Very well, Tak it is!” Raven replied, with a small sigh.

  When Tak was satisfied he had collected enough sap, he removed the stalk and rubbed gum into the tree’s wound. We’ll eat fresh fish tonight.

  They walked to a point in the river where the water was brackish. Fat fish swam in pools along the bank. Tak rested the leaf between two stones to stop the sap from spilling. He started to collect rocks from the shore. We’ll build a small dam. You start at that end and I’ll meet you in the middle.

  Raven shrugged. “When you’ve finished this odd game, I’ll cut some vines and weave a net. Then we’ll have a chance to catch fish for dinner.”

  Tak planted his rocks into the mud, leaving a narrow opening.

  “What about my second question?” asked Raven.

  Sign!

  Raven held up the rocks in his hands. Tak sighed, a soft whistling noise at the back of his throat. I knew you would seek my help long before you spirit walked and appeared in my dreams.

  “Then why are you hiding in a rainforest?”

  It’s safer for both of us if I remain here.

  “I can’t stop Acabar alone,” said Raven, not bothering to sign. His rocks clacked as he placed them onto the dam. He returned to the shore for two more.

  Phylasso will deal with Acabar.

  “Phylasso hasn’t been seen since he carried Eurynomos off to Tartarus. We can’t stand by and do nothing.”

  Tak continued to pile rocks onto the dam, mortaring the gaps with mud.

  “Tell me what happened to your tongue, then,” said Raven, when he’d had enough of the silence.r />
  I cut it out.

  “Why? If you die, you’ll get a new one when you’re reborn.”

  Tak shook his head. It cannot be undone. It’s gone forever.

  “I don’t understand!”

  I have to protect the secret that must never be spoken.

  Raven drew a slow breath. “Perhaps I’m misinterpreting your signs. ‘... the secret that must never be spoken?’ What secret?”

  Tak slapped his rocks down, completing the small dam. Four silver fish circled the pond, seeking a way back to the river. You read signs well, but what use is a secret if I tell it to you?

  Raven watched Tak deliver each gesture with short sharp finger flicks. He laughed. “You express yourself eloquently for a mute! What’s to stop someone taking this secret from you by force? Torture is an art as old as we are.” He blinked and saw Wolf chained to the wall with his face bloodied and bruised. Tak waded to the shore, watching him from under lowered eyelids. He collected the leaf containing tree sap and emptied it into the pond. Raven folded his arms. He saw vines nearby and grumbled about how he would weave a net while he waited. Tak knelt, pressed his palms together and closed his eyes. One by one the fish floated to the surface. Tak waded into the pool and picked them up. He raised his eyebrows and grinned.

  * * *

  Raven pushed the fish around his plate. They were perfectly roasted with crisp skin and soft, white flesh. The aroma was tantalising; sweet and savoury with a hint of the ocean breeze. His mouth watered.

  Eat, signed Tak, with a huff. The tree sap removes the air from the water. The fish weren’t poisoned, they drowned!

  Raven raised a flake to his lips, chewed slowly, then devoured the plateful as if he hadn’t eaten for weeks. “Air from water? Drowned fish? I had no idea you practised magic!” he said, patting his stomach. Tak opened his mouth and released a breathy laugh. I don’t, unless you consider my understanding of nature to be magic.