“Perhaps they’re checking everyone at the landing on the other side of the river, too. Maybe that’s why the men are so late.”
“I bet you’re right! Just like they did here.”
From the shadow of a street stall on the bank, Elin had watched soldiers climb down under the bridge and examine the women’s faces. She had only joined them after she’d seen the soldiers leave.
The old woman beside her suddenly turned to Elin. “I’ve never seen you here before,” she said. “What’re you doing here?” She had probably been wondering about her for some time because Elin carried no basket and didn’t look like a farmer’s wife.
Dusk had already fallen. Although Elin couldn’t see the woman’s face, she could feel the suspicion in her eyes. “I’m waiting for my nephew,” Elin murmured. “I’m going home to my parents’ house.”
The woman snorted, apparently satisfied that Elin must have left her husband and was going back to live with her parents.
The drumming of the rain intensified, and lightning flashed incessantly. The women huddled together under the bridge, staring at the river. “At this rate, we may be spending the night at an inn,” one of them grumbled.
It grew so dark they couldn’t see each other. With each flash of lightning, their anxious faces glowed white and then disappeared.
“Wait a minute. I think I hear them!” Picking up the sound of oars through the pounding rain, the women stood up. Several lights appeared in the darkness—lanterns borne by the women’s sons who sat in the prows. When the boats landed, each woman climbed into one. Snatches of conversation drifted through the darkness.
“I thought you’d never come.”
“Any longer and we wouldn’t have made it home.”
Elin remained seated, listening as the boats pulled away and the women’s voices, shrill with excitement and relief, faded along with the sound of oars. Once they were gone, the darkness deepened. Even in the pouring rain, however, she could see the watchfires burning brightly in sheltered stands on the bridge and at the landing on the far side of the river. They warned her that soldiers waited there.
Why had Seimiya let her go? And how had Yohalu and the Aluhan reacted?
Was she making the right decision to cross this river without seeing Ialu or Jesse? She guessed they were on their way to the capital. Should she have hidden herself in the city and waited for them?
Jesse … His worried face rose into her mind. Maybe he’s plodding through this rain toward the capital right now, driven by the hope that he can see me again …
So many thoughts clamored in her mind that it ached. If she listened to them now, they would twist themselves around her heart like vines, making it hard to move. She stood up abruptly and removed her jacket. Pressing her lips firmly together, she took off her top and tied it around her waist. She removed her sandals and tied them together by their laces, then shoved them firmly inside her sash at the back. She also tied the pouch of gold nuggets to her sash and tucked it inside against her stomach so that she wouldn’t lose it.
Taking a deep breath, she walked across the sodden grass and down to the landing. Her plan was to ride the river downstream to a sandbar at the mouth of a small tributary. A boat might be distinguishable in this darkness, but a person would just look like a log drifting on the water.
The rain was still falling hard, but fortunately the lightning seemed to be less frequent. The river did not appear to be flowing much faster than before, either. Elin, who used to swim with her friends in the swift mountain river below the school at Kazalumu, knew how to let her body glide on the current. But when she slipped off the simple dock of rough planks into the water, she felt the river tug at her with unexpected force. She’d intended to grab the post of the pier and get her bearings before swimming off, but the water swept her away before she could even touch it.
Fear gripped her chest. The current was much faster than anticipated. She squirmed, trying to get into position to swim, but her body couldn’t do what she wanted. Pain shot through her left elbow when she moved it. Water surged over her face, and she couldn’t breathe.
Thrashing and kicking, she thrust her face above the water and gasped for breath. She glimpsed a light behind her and shuddered at the speed with which it receded. When she tried to take another breath, something huge seemed to swell and rear up beneath her legs. In the next instant, she felt herself propelled forward at breakneck speed.
There was no hope of swimming. She was swept along like a piece of wood, jostled and battered by the roiling water.
Her lungs writhed, desperate for air. She knew with sudden clarity that she was dying.
* * *
The water level’s rising.
Ialu bit his lip, his body pummeled by the heavy rain. For a long time, he and Jesse had been standing in the shallows where the current slowed, scanning the river. They could see the watchfires burning far upstream.
Before sunset, they had crossed the bridge, one at a time, waiting a little between each passage before finding their way to this spot. Although the soldiers examined all the women’s faces carefully, they didn’t stop any men or children, and Ialu and Jesse made it through almost too easily.
Still, Ialu was impatient. The fact that it was growing darker and harder to distinguish people’s faces meant Elin might try to cross the river at any time. It had taken him much longer to get a sturdy rope than he had expected, and that time loss could be critical.
The water level was much higher than before. Although it didn’t look so fast, the river was fed by many tributaries and could suddenly swell with water in a heavy rain.
“Dad.” Although Ialu had told him to keep quiet, Jesse couldn’t help himself. “It’s dark already. Are you sure you can see her?”
With each flash of lightning, Ialu’s figure blazed out in the darkness. He had tied one end of a long rope to a nearby tree and the other around his waist. Stripped down to his underwear, he stood staring into the blackness like a beast hunting its prey.
“Stop worrying,” Ialu answered. “I’ve got good night vision.” For a second, he recalled the years he had spent searching the darkness on rainy and moonless nights, determined not to miss anything that moved. He reeled his thoughts back to the present. “Quiet now, Jesse,” he said. “Don’t distract me.”
Slowing his breathing, he extended his awareness to embrace everything around him. With his mind stretched evenly across his surroundings like a tautly strung net, the bottom of the darkness brightened. Each sound—the raindrops, the churning water—registered separately in his ears. He could even distinguish the noise of each log rushing past. Something pricked his sharpened senses like a needle. He peered upstream. For a moment, he thought it must be a log. Then a slender hand reached above the water, only to vanish again.
Elin!
With an earth-shaking roar, the river heaved and swelled. Ialu dashed forward and flung himself into the water. The force of it hit him like a board. He gritted his teeth and parted the water with his arms. Although blinded by the dark, he kept his position fixed in his mind along with that of Elin’s path down the river. He didn’t swim, but instead let the river carry him while he strained every muscle to steer himself toward the place where Elin would pass.
Something touched his outstretched hand, then slipped away. He was about to despair, when he felt a tug on his fingertips. He closed his fist and pulled. Catching the limp body in his arms, he felt the rope yank at his waist. Pain seared through his abdomen. It seemed like he was being torn in half, but he didn’t let go.
He clenched his jaw. Clutching the body with all his strength, he let the water carry him, using the tree to which the rope was tied as a pivot. He kicked his legs feebly and felt something brush against him. Weeds. Something grated against his skin, and he grimaced with pain. He was stuck in a field of reeds on the sandbar.
For a few moments, he lay gasping, unable to move. Gradually, however, he became aware of the cold, lifeless body emb
raced in his arms. When he placed his cheek close to its mouth, no breath touched his skin.
Elin!
He was too weak to lift her. On shaking knees, he dragged her through the reeds and onto the shoal.
He heard Jesse’s shrill voice. “Dad! Did you save her?” The boy ran up beside him, but Ialu didn’t answer. Laying Elin faceup, he lifted her jaw, pinched her nostrils shut, and, placing his mouth against her frigid lips, breathed into her mouth. He put his hands on her chest, one on top of the other, and pressed sharply and repeatedly. Elin’s arms flopped limply with each press, but she showed no sign of coming back to life.
“Mom! Mom!” Kneeling beside his father, Jesse rubbed his mother’s arm and wailed in a thin voice. Her flesh was shockingly cold. In the occasional flash of lightning, her pale skin glowed in the dark.
Ialu pressed on her chest. Again and again he pressed, then blew into her mouth.
She’s not breathing! Jesse began to sob. She’ll die! She’ll die! Without even knowing what he was doing, he rubbed her arm frantically, then grabbed her hand and tugged on it, calling her repeatedly. But his voice was drowned by the whistling wind, the rolling thunder, the pounding rain.
How long this went on, Jesse didn’t know. Ialu pressed once more, and Elin suddenly twisted and coughed, spitting up water.
“Elin!” Ialu turned her on her side and pounded on her back. She coughed violently, then inhaled with a whistling sound. After drawing several rattling breaths, she opened her eyes and stared blankly into space.
Jesse gazed dumbly at his father as he scooped Elin into his arms and hugged her tightly.
4
A SERIES OF NOTES
Water dripped from the eaves of the stable. Rolan pushed away the head of his beloved steed, Guloh, who kept nuzzling his chest. Sensing someone behind him, Rolan turned and glanced outside. The previous night’s storm had blown all the clouds away, and the day was dazzlingly clear. Rolan’s brows rose when he saw who was standing in the white sunshine.
“Oli.” How like her to have come alone, he thought, even though she was the Aluhan’s sister.
Picking up the hem of her skirt, Oli sauntered into the stable. “Morning, Guloh,” she said, reaching up to give him a friendly pat.
“What’s this? My horse gets greeted before me?”
Oli cast Rolan a piercing glance. “And why should I greet someone who doesn’t even have the courtesy to say goodbye before he leaves?”
Rolan’s mouth twitched. “I’m sorry. I was just tired of all the commotion these last couple of days. I wanted to get away as soon as possible.”
Oli gave him a searching look. “Are you attracted to her?”
Rolan’s eyes widened. “To whom? You mean Elin?” He grinned and shook his head. “Well, I guess I was quite taken with her. Or rather, I still am. But it’s not like I want to hold her or anything. Well, okay, maybe that, too. A bit. But more than that…” His gaze wavered as though he were searching for words. “I want her to be happy. It may sound strange, but I’ve thought that ever since Father told us about her.”
Wrinkling his nose as though embarrassed, he added, “Because she’s a musician, you see.”
Oli blinked, then understanding dawned in her eyes. “Ah, I see.” Stroking Guloh’s nose as he nudged her with his muzzle, she nodded. “You’re right. She’s a musician, too.”
Rolan leaned against the stall gate. Narrowing his eyes, he gazed absently at the sunlit pasture. “She’s an interesting woman, don’t you think? To come up with the idea of using a harp to communicate with those fearsome Beasts. And not just to come up with it, but to actually do it. I like that.”
Shifting his eyes back to Oli, he smiled slightly. The pain Oli glimpsed beneath his smile hurt. “Isn’t it beautiful how a series of notes, a melody plucked on the strings of an instrument, can move the heart?” Rolan said. “Where we come from and what we are—all those things disappear into the music, and everyone who listens is moved. At moments like that, I see light. It’s those moments that keep me playing my lakkalu.”
There was something fragile about Rolan. Having lost his family to the flames of war, he now roamed through different lands, placing himself in the midst of conflict. Oli knew all too well the nihilism that lurked behind his cheerful, carefree façade. And he had just explained why, despite all this, he could still keep his head up.
Once again, Rolan gazed out at the pasture. “I think that Father and the Aluhan are too smitten with the Toda and the Royal Beasts. Other countries can never succeed in raising Royal Beasts? Even though the secrets of the Toda have already been stolen?” His voice dripped with sarcasm, and he shook his head slowly. “There’s no such thing as ‘never,’ is there? Right now, Elin’s the only one who can control the Royal Beasts. But if she’s going to make a whole troop, more people will have to get involved, and her methods are bound to find their way to other countries. We shouldn’t be so heavily dependent on one weapon. Nothing is absolute. Things change all the time. We have to keep adapting and trying out new approaches.”
He turned toward Oli and placed a hand gently on her shoulder. “I’ll probably spend my whole life searching for new ways. I’m just a messenger who seeks to witness and convey what the people of this land refuse to see.”
Pressing her lips together, Oli stared at him for some time. Finally, she asked, “Where will you go next?”
His face softened. “I’ll drop by Amasulu and take Kuriu to Imeelu. That city’s full of people with interesting connections. If I can find someone with the right ones…” He paused for a moment, then said, “I’m thinking of going to Lahza.”
Oli paled. “Are you serious?”
Rolan nodded. “We can never find a way forward until we learn more about the Lahza and how they think. If we want to reach a solution through negotiation rather than war, we need to know them.”
A light gleamed in his eyes. “And if there’s anyone in this country capable of finding that out, it’s me, don’t you think? I look like an Asheh of the plains but have the heart and mind of a man from Lyoza.”
Oli’s face twisted. “You’ll come back, though, won’t you? Promise me you’ll return safe and sound.”
Rolan gazed at her, his jaw set firmly. “I promise, Omli,” he said quietly. “I’ll come back.”
5
TWO PATHS
Birds chirped. The shed door was open a crack, and little bird shadows flitted across the shaft of light that fell through it. Jesse had woken a few minutes earlier when his father had gone outside, but he stayed in bed. He didn’t want to lose the comfort of pressing his face against his mother’s side, of being enveloped by her scent. Her blouse touched his nose each time she inhaled, then fluttered away when she exhaled. He loved the feel of the cloth caressing his skin. She was still asleep.
Last night had been terrible. They’d searched frantically for a farmhouse that would take them in. His father had carried his mother while Jesse had hauled all their stuff through the pouring rain. How relieved he’d been to see a light shining through the darkness.
The elderly couple that answered the door reminded Jesse of the people back home. They looked shocked to see a family standing drenched in the rain. Ialu told them their boat had capsized in the storm, and the couple quickly let them in to warm themselves at the hearth. Mother was listless and exhausted, and the old man and his wife fretted over her, urging all three of them to sleep in the house. But his father had refused and asked the couple to lend them the shed.
Jesse had wished they could have stayed in the house, which he believed would have been much nicer. But once he’d eaten the hot supper the couple had shared, it didn’t matter. His full stomach warmed his frozen body, and he was amused to see steam rising from his and his parents’ clothes when they sat around the hearth. Elin lay down beside the fire and fell fast asleep. She didn’t wake even when Ialu picked her up and carried her to the shed. Still, gladness filled Jesse’s chest like warm coals.
The shed was much colder than the main house, but the old man had spread a blanket over a pile of the hay that he kept as fodder for his livestock. With another blanket on top of them, they were soon warm. Ialu turned his back to the door and cradled Elin in his arms, while Jesse buried his face in his mother’s chest and was soon sound asleep.
In the middle of the night, Elin groaned and thrashed about as though in pain. Jesse opened his eyes in surprise. “It’s all right, Jesse,” his father whispered. “She’s just got a little fever. I’ll watch over her. You go back to sleep.”
Worried, Jesse had tried to stay awake, but his eyelids felt so heavy, he couldn’t keep them open. As soon as they closed, he’d dropped off again.
* * *
Elin muttered and jerked.
Jesse sat up and peered into her face. “Mom?” he said.
Slowly she opened her eyes. “Mom! Can you see me?” He waved his hand in front of her face. Her eyebrows drew together. “Jesse?” she murmured in a puzzled tone.
Throwing himself across her chest, Jesse wrapped his arms around her neck and rubbed his cheek against her face. “Mom…” Tears choked his voice; he sniffed and squeezed her tightly.
His mother’s hand stroked his back. He clung to her, feeling the warmth from her hand and from her cheek where his face touched hers.
At first, her touch was hesitant, but then it grew stronger. “Jesse?” she said. “Is it really you?” She pulled him close. For a long time they hugged each other.
When Jesse finally released his arms from around her neck, it was only because he was in such an awkward position that his knees and back were starting to hurt.
“Jesse.” Elin was looking straight at him. Not like last night, when she had stared blankly, seeing nothing. “Where are we?” she asked. “And where’s your father?”
“We’re in a farmer’s shed. Dad just went outside. Probably to wash his face.”
The Beast Warrior Page 23