The Beast Warrior

by Nahoko Uehashi

  “There is no hurry, Your Majesty,” Elin said. “They’re still trying to decide what kind of person you are. Once you have established a bond with them, they will respond. I promise you.”

  As he listened to his mother encourage her, Jesse nodded to himself. The Royal Beasts observed people carefully. They would never obey someone they didn’t trust. Although they could be controlled by the Silent Whistle, they would never open their hearts to the person who used it. Someone strong might force them to do their bidding, but they would never truly submit. In contrast, once they opened their hearts to someone, they would respond with great attention. That was one of the things Jesse loved about them.

  The Royal Beasts obeyed his mother without hesitation. He knew they would obey her even if she didn’t use the harp. Alu was the same. She understood what Jesse said. He had never used the harp like his mother, but when he called Alu to come to him, she would, showing him that she understood. Leelan, however, almost never did what he asked. Though she would let him cuddle up to her and watched over him like a mother over her child, she never responded the way Alu did when he asked her to do something. Instead, she would give him the same tolerant look she gave her own children.

  Leelan, Eku, and the other adults obeyed his mother first, and then Miss Esalu. Although it had taken them a long time to accept the headmistress, now when she played the harp, they would do what she asked. But they didn’t respond to her words, even when she spoke to them. They had sharp ears and could pick out his mother’s voice from far away. To them, she was more important than anyone else. Jesse couldn’t help feeling that they were all one big family. His mother was the parent, and the Royal Beasts were her children. And he was probably considered the youngest of the lot.

  Jesse remembered how his mother’s face had fallen the day he’d told her he wanted to become a Beast Handler. Now he could understand why. To talk about “handling” the Royal Beasts as if they were tools was disgusting. He had often heard the soldiers and the custodians at Kazalumu speaking of his mother with awe as they called her a Beast Handler, so it had never occurred to him that it was bad. Now, however, he felt a flash of irritation every time he heard someone call his mother that.

  The Royal Beasts were noble beings. In fact, maybe all creatures were. Maybe there weren’t any that people had the right to use as tools. He had never forgotten what his mother had told him about the Toda when she was helping him with his studies. They could talk to one another, she’d said, with voices that sounded like finger whistles. And when one of their fellow Toda died, all the others would mourn with a high-pitched keening.

  After that, even the Toda, which he had seen as ferocious beasts, seemed different, and he kept pestering his mother with questions about them. Whenever she spoke of them, however, she looked troubled. She probably didn’t want to use even the Toda as weapons of war, although it was the Toda troops that protected the country from invasion.

  Humans turned all beasts into tools. Horses and oxen were made to work, other animals were raised to be eaten, and the Toda were trained as weapons. And now his mother was training the Royal Beasts to fight. He knew it couldn’t be helped, yet that knowledge warred with the feeling that it wasn’t right. A jumble of thoughts and feelings simmered inside him. Not knowing what to do with them, he let them circle around his mind while he watched his mother.

  What was the Yojeh thinking, he wondered. She was beautiful yet somehow fragile. There always seemed to be a deep sorrow in her face. Although he knew she was the one who was forcing his mother to train the Royal Beasts, he couldn’t help liking her. She looked so sincere as she gazed at the Beasts.

  I bet she loves their nobility just like me. I wonder when they’ll answer her harp.

  He felt sorry for the Yojeh. She tried so hard to talk to them, but they never responded. For the last few days, he had found himself hoping they would show even a little warmth toward her.

  When he watched his mother and the Yojeh train, time always flew by, but today, something was different. Although they usually came to the field when the sun was already high in the sky, this morning, they’d come while the mist still clung to the meadow. His mother had been up all night; she’d come home late and then left before dawn. Thinking it must have something to do with Alu, Jesse had waited until she’d gone to get the Yojeh before he climbed up to Alu’s new pasture ahead of them. Dawn had only just broken, but Alu was already outside the stable. Perhaps she had spent the whole night outdoors.

  Beyond the mauve mountain ridges, the sky was beginning to glow faintly. Suddenly, the sun burst above the rim, its light falling on Alu, who until then had just been a vague shadow in the field. Jesse caught his breath. Her chest was flushed deep pink.

  Raising her wings slightly, she stretched out her neck and sniffed the air. Facing her was the young male Ukalu. He was also sniffing the air with his wings slightly raised.

  Alu …

  Although he didn’t know what was happening, Jesse could feel the tension between the two Beasts like a tightly drawn string. Standing far apart, they stretched toward each other and inhaled the scent that rode the wind. Jesse had known Alu and Ukalu since he was a baby, yet they seemed like totally new creatures.

  His mother and the Yojeh were approaching. They stopped near the tree behind which Jesse was hiding and stared at the two Beasts. When the gently rolling mist had vanished, and the flowers in the meadow shone gaily in the morning light, Jesse’s mother pointed to Alu.

  Jesse turned to look. The color of Alu’s chest began to deepen, turning a bright red as though fresh blood had been spurted across it.

  At that moment, Ukalu raised his head toward the heavens and let out a long trilling sound. Lululululu.

  Alu raised her head and sang a high-pitched note in response. Lilililili.

  The two beasts spread their giant wings and soared upward at almost the same moment. High in the heavens they came together, blocking out the newly risen sun, and twined their necks as though they never wanted to let go. They collided and flew apart, then collided again, their bodies shuddering as Ukalu mounted Alu’s back.

  Dazed, Jesse stared at the sky.

  7

  ALU MATES

  “They’re mating,” Seimiya whispered. She couldn’t keep the tremor from her voice. “Alu’s finally flown! Oh, how wonderful!”

  Turning to look at Elin, she was startled to see tears welling in her eyes as she gazed up at the Royal Beasts. “So this brings you joy, too, does it?” Seimiya asked.

  Elin nodded. At last, Alu had done it. She’d taken her mating flight, her first step toward adulthood and making her own family. Even if it brought them one step closer to an army of Royal Beasts, for now Elin was simply glad that Alu had come of age.

  When they were done, Alu and Ukalu drifted slowly to the ground. Ukalu sidled up to Alu where she stood languidly on the grass, and licked the fur on her chest while making soothing noises.

  “She finally broke free from her parents,” Elin murmured. Seeing the perplexed expression on Seimiya’s face, she explained, “Alu will turn seventeen this year. Royal Beasts in the wild take their mating flight and bear children by the time they are four. It has taken Alu many times that to reach maturity, most likely because she remained a cub in relation to Leelan and Eku. I think that she’s finally come of age because we took her away from them.”

  “Ah, I see,” Seimiya whispered. “So that’s why you wanted to expand the pasture area for the Royal Beasts. You wanted enough room to remove Leelan and Eku’s children from under their wing and give them a place where they could become independent.”

  Elin bowed her head. “Yes. I couldn’t explain my request in detail in a letter. Forgive me for not being clearer.”

  “There’s no need to apologize. That was a natural precaution. But to think that keeping parents in the same pasture as their children is what stops them from reproducing. Who would’ve guessed?”

  Elin nodded. “It’s still just a
hypothesis, but I think there are two reasons proximity prevents them from maturing.”

  “Two?”

  “Yes. One is to avoid interbreeding. If Alu had come into heat when her father was ready to mate, Eku might have mated with his own daughter. To prevent that, I think cubs may have some mechanism that keeps them from maturing while they live with their parents.”

  Seimiya blinked, then blushed and looked a bit flustered. Catching sight of her expression, Elin said hastily, “Pardon me for speaking so bluntly.”

  Seimiya gave a crooked smile. “Please think nothing of it. And the second reason?”

  Elin looked at Alu. “To avoid conflict.”

  “Conflict?”

  “Yes. When cubs come of age, mate, and bear young, they need a fairly large territory to support their family. The pasture at Kazalumu is simply too small. When so many of them are forced to live in the same pasture, I think they choose to create one large family instead of killing one another. One pair becomes the parents of all the others.”

  Surprise rose in Seimiya’s eyes. “You’re saying they actually plan that out for themselves?”

  “Well, not plan, really. I think it just kind of happened that way. It’s not uncommon for living creatures to make such choices. Honeybees, which I got to know very well when I was young, are a good example. To survive in their cramped hive, they also form one big family with the queen bee at the top. Their lives are so completely organized and controlled that it’s chilling at times. The queen is almighty. If something happens to her, if she dies or disappears, all the bees in the hive start to shake as if they’ve lost the center that held them together. I’ve seen a swarm of bees get so upset that it wandered every which way, not knowing what to do. The bees behaved like little children suddenly separated from their parents. Bees in a hive are all females that can never become independent or bear children. They remain forever their mother’s daughters. There were times when I found that quite frightening.”

  Seimiya’s eyes narrowed as she listened. Her face paled, and her jaw tightened. Her eyes on Alu, Elin missed the change in her expression and continued speaking matter-of-factly. “If the only reason the Royal Beasts didn’t mate was to avoid inbreeding between father and daughter or mother and son, then there would be no reason for Ukalu and the others, who were introduced later from the wild, not to mature and mate. A system where the parents wield absolute authority over a host of obedient children ensures stability when many individual creatures are forced to live together.”

  When she finished speaking, the only sounds were the breeze caressing the grass and the cooing noises of the Royal Beasts.

  “You’re saying that in a system where parents wield absolute authority, their children can live together in peace and stability?” Seimiya whispered.

  Elin sighed. “In a restricted environment like that of bees in a hive, yes, I think so. But for Royal Beasts, such a system is abnormal. When Olamu, the Beast Hunter, saw Leelan and the others, he told me they could never live in the wild.”

  Sadness spread through Elin as she watched Alu and Ukalu groom each other affectionately. “I think he was right,” she went on. “By keeping the Royal Beasts in the sanctuary pasture, we’ve forced them to remain children. Even if they mate and bear young, they can never truly become independent adults. Because they’re still dependent on us for food.

  “The Beasts raised here have never learned the skills they need to hunt for their own food or to survive a fight with other Beasts. Outside the sanctuary, with no one to protect them, I doubt they could compete with wild Beasts who challenge their territory.”

  The sun had risen in the sky, and its rays glowed softly on the Royal Beasts’ fur. Seimiya stared at them silently for some time as if following a train of thought. Finally, she murmured, “I suppose for them, living here is happiness.”

  Elin turned to look at her. “Forgive me, Your Majesty,” she began, then faltered.

  A faint smile played at the corners of Seimiya’s mouth. “If you disagree, please say so. There is no need for you to hesitate.”

  With a nod, Elin said, “I think ‘happiness’ is too broad a term.”

  Seimiya said nothing. “It encompasses so much,” Elin continued. “But for the same reason, it can conceal a lot. Lumping everything together under that word seems reassuring, but really only the Royal Beasts can judge what happiness is for them. I’m afraid I might use it to convince myself that my actions are right.”

  Seimiya sighed, and her mouth twitched. “You’re very hard on yourself, aren’t you?” she said. A strong light gleamed in her eyes. “Because of my position, however, I must decide what is the best system for everyone else and what will make them happy. I must keep an image of what the happiness of my country and my people looks like in my mind at all times. Because I am a parent who must lead many children.”

  Elin’s eyes wavered, and she looked at the Royal Beasts.

  “What is it this time?” Seimiya asked. “Tell me your thoughts. There’s no reason to stop now.”

  A sad smile touched Elin’s lips. “I was thinking that your ancestor, the first Yojeh, must have shared your point of view.”

  As the sun warmed the grasses, butterflies and beetles began to whir through the air.

  “When she crossed the Afon Noah and assumed rulership to bring an end to chaos and unite the land, the people here must have seemed like children who didn’t know what would bring them happiness.”

  Seimiya squinted into the sun, following the flight of a butterfly.

  In a low voice, Elin said, “Every time I look at the Royal Beasts and the Toda, I wonder why the first Yojeh decided not to explain so many things to her people; why she taught them that all they needed to do was to follow the rules. Why did she choose this way? Did the people who live here seem incapable of judging for themselves? Or had she learned from her own experience that people can’t understand something unless they’ve witnessed it with their own eyes?”

  Seimiya gave her a long look. “So even now, you’re worried about flying the Royal Beasts to battle,” she said. When Elin didn’t answer, Seimiya added, “I think you must be. Because you intend to fly them all by yourself without letting anyone else ride them.”

  “Your Majesty.”

  “There’s no need for you to tell me. Do you think I didn’t know how you feel? After spending these last few days learning the intricacies of the Handler’s Art, I understand all too well. These skills cannot be acquired overnight. And even if they could, it would take a very long time for the Royal Beasts to learn to trust someone else.”

  A bitter smile rose to Seimiya’s lips. “You know that, and that’s why you’re giving me only the knowledge of the art. The day is not far off when the Royal Beasts must be flown. But when that time comes, I won’t be able to fly them. Miss Esalu could probably do it, but I’m sure you intend to excuse her from battle due to her advanced age.”

  Her smile faded as she stared at Elin. “You plan to shoulder all responsibility for what may happen on the battlefield alone, don’t you?”

  The gentle breeze played with a strand of Elin’s hair. She shifted her eyes away and gazed at the wide field. “I told you that only the Royal Beasts themselves can judge what happiness is for them,” Elin whispered. “But if, as the Ahlyo warned me, a catastrophe occurs that destroys both beasts and men, it will most surely be a calamity for the Royal Beasts. If so, then, without a doubt, I am leading them to grief, not happiness.”

  Seimiya shook her head. “But by doing so, you are saving the people of this country.”

  Her eyes still on the field, Elin said, “Perhaps. But that has no meaning whatsoever to the Royal Beasts.”

  They remained silent for a while, staring at the two Beasts in the field. Finally Seimiya heaved a deep sigh. “Do you really think such a disaster will happen? To me, it sounds like a cautionary tale told by the Ahlyo to keep people from fighting.”

  Elin stared blankly at the Royal Beasts.
“Tokujisui,” she murmured. “It’s the tokujisui that bothers me. The Royal Ancestor Jeh and all the Yojeh after her, as well as the ancestors of the lord of Amasulu who were invited to come and breed Toda, every single one of them used tokujisui to prevent both Royal Beasts and Toda from being bred by men. Why?”

  Seimiya’s brow furrowed. “So as not to increase their number. You told me that yourself.”

  “Yes. But even if we don’t breed them, it’s still possible to multiply Toda by taking their eggs, and Royal Beasts by taking their young. It’s slower of course, but even so, we could increase their number. Our ancestors must have known that. If so, then why?”

  Disgust twisted Elin’s features. “Tokujisui perverts nature. It warps creatures’ growth so that Royal Beasts remain eternal children, never mating, wasting their lives in idleness. And the Kiba die with their unborn eggs inside them. Why would our ancestors have gone to such lengths to control their reproduction?”

  She clenched her teeth, trying to keep her emotions in check, but the fury that swelled inside her was not easily quelled.

  “My mother chose martyrdom,” she said, forcing the words through her teeth. “She chose death by execution rather than break her vow to protect their secret. I, however, have chosen not to use tokujisui. I simply cannot bring myself to use something that I know corrupts living things. As such, it’s only right that I should bear responsibility for the outcome of my decision.”

  Elin paused and took a shaky breath. “But I have my doubts, too. Because I’m not the only one who will be affected by the outcome. If the disaster feared by Jeh should occur, the soldiers in the battlefield, along with the Toda and the Royal Beasts, will all perish.”

  A bitter smile crossed Seimiya’s face. “You need not trouble yourself about that. It is I, not you, who will be held responsible.”