“Amasulu is a symbol. It’s the field where the Hajan fought the battle that resulted in their defeat and destruction. For us, it’s a field of glory, but for the Hajan, it’s a field of shame. Maybe the Lahza want to demonstrate to caravan cities like Togulamu and Ikishili that they already have a Toda army capable of directly attacking Amasulu.”
His face pinched, Rolan continued, “Like Ulamu, Ikishili and Togulamu were built by the Hajan. They’ve never really accepted us. If the Lahza can attack Amasulu, the place associated with the Hajan’s shame, they’re bound to move the hearts of the Hajan.”
“But if they lose, there’s no point,” Oluku said.
“Yes, there is,” Rolan said impatiently. “They may attack even though they know they’re likely to lose. Maybe it’s hard for you to understand because you’ve never lived with the people of those cities, but deep down, they hate the Lyoza. On the surface, they obey us because they’re cowed by the overwhelming force of our Toda army. But that just makes their resentment stronger and more twisted.”
“Like the Sai Gamulu,” whispered Ialu.
Oluku and the scouts jerked their heads to stare at him. He turned to them and said quietly, “I think you in particular would understand. It’s the same feeling the people of Aluhan territory have felt toward the Yojeh’s nobles for generations. A firmly rooted, complex resentment toward those who benefit like parasites from your sacrifices.”
The room fell silent. “If that’s how the Hajan feel about us,” Ialu said flatly, “when the Lahza, mounted on their own Toda, charge our army at Amasulu, they’ll rejoice.”
Ialu looked at Rolan. “That’s what you meant when you said they might be prepared to lose this battle, isn’t it? Even if they lose, they’ll have tested their Toda army against ours. And in doing so, they’ll have captured the hearts of the Hajan in Togulamu and Ikishili. In the long run, they have much to gain.”
Rolan nodded. “Exactly! That’s what I was trying to say. I’m sure you’ve heard the Hajan expression ‘uri kimu.’ ‘Uri’ means ‘the heart,’ and ‘kimu’ means ‘to show.’ Literally, it means to show your sincerity. But it’s much harsher than it sounds. If you claim to be speaking and acting sincerely but in fact are not, the Hajan will never trust you again, ever. If, however, you do what you promise, even at great personal sacrifice, they’ll put absolute and almost fanatical trust in you. The Lahza understand this characteristic of the Hajan very well.
“By attacking Amasulu, the symbol of Hajan’s shame, even though it may mean self-destruction, the Lahza will have demonstrated to the Hajan how seriously they take their past humiliation at our hands and the kind of relationship they intend to build with them.”
From the others’ expressions, it was clear that his explanation still wasn’t getting through. Rolan leaned forward. “Don’t you see? The Hajan living in Togulamu and Ikishili hate the Lyoza, but that doesn’t mean they like the Lahza. While they may hate us as their conquerors, they’ve been under our protection for a long time and are used to the way we do things. They’ll have significant doubts about welcoming new rulers.”
Understanding began to glimmer in Oluku’s face, and Rolan continued more confidently. “For the Lahza, the support of the Hajan, who run those three caravan cities, is crucial, because it’s a long way from the Lahza’s home base to Lyoza. A very, very long way. Without support and supplies from the Hajan, the idea of them launching a serious invasion of our kingdom is no more than a dream of a dream. They won’t get anywhere if they continue fighting small skirmishes near our protectorates the way they’ve been doing so far.”
Rolan looked Oluku in the eye. “Now that we know the Lahza have their own Toda army, they can’t take Togulamu or Ikishili by surprise the way they did Ulamu. But if they can win all the inhabitants of those cities over to their side, we’ll lose the advantage we’ve enjoyed so far. Do you see?”
Oluku’s eyes narrowed, and he looked down at the map. The caravan cities were very far from home. It was the people of those cities who kept Lyoza’s troops supplied with food, water, and lodgings. And it was thanks to that firm foothold that they had never before lost to the Lahza. If the people of those cities were to become their enemies, that foothold would crumble.
One by one, Rolan pointed to the caravan cities. “If the Lahza can gain control over Togulamu and Ikishili, just as they’ve done in Ulamu, they can raise up an expeditionary force to attack Hoza, Kasholu, and Imeelu. And once they take Imeelu, they can attack our kingdom.
“To gain the advantage over Lyoza, they need to demonstrate their sincerity to the Hajan of Ikishili and Togulamu and win them over. An attack on Amasulu, even if it means the loss of two thousand Toda and their Riders, would be a significant strike in their favor.”
For some time, Oluku stared intently at the map without speaking. Finally, he raised his eyes and looked at Ialu. “It could be that this is true. But right now, it’s still just a possibility. It would be too risky to move our troops on the basis of a single herder’s report. Ialu, take several men up to this river and see if you can find any traces of Toda.”
Clicking his heels together, Ialu saluted, then beckoned the others to come with him. Time was of the essence.
* * *
Ialu spurred his horse toward the hills, racing the sun as it slid down the sky and dyed the grasslands red. Just as the world around him began to melt into dusk, a cluster of hills came into view. Mostly bare rock with only sparse clumps of grass, the hills were fading into mauve. Ialu found it hard to believe there could be a river among such rocky outcrops, but as he approached their shadow, the smell of water reached him on the wind.
Rolan led the way over the bumpy terrain, his horse pushing through the scraggly shrubs. Following after, Ialu heard the gurgling of water. They passed through a field of waving reeds and stepped out onto a riverbank. A sweet scent wafted toward them. Toda.
Ialu called out softly to Rolan, then gestured for everyone to dismount. Tying their horses’ reins to nearby shrubs, the scouts spread out in four directions and came back stealthily. “No signs of anyone here,” they reported.
Ialu nodded. There may not be any men here, he thought, but the smell of Toda lingered. “Light the lanterns,” he ordered. “Cover the tops so that the light doesn’t escape. Search for traces of Toda, particularly on the stones in the river.”
Even in the dark, such traces were easily found. Many of the rocks had been scraped by sharp claws. The shallows also showed the marks of multiple claws where they’d scratched the bottom, and the tracks of running Toda were discernable along the banks. There must have been so many that they couldn’t all fit in the river.
At least several hundred, Ialu thought.
The sun had vanished, and the icy wind seeped through Ialu’s skin. Shivering, he turned his face heavenward. Even if they rode the Toda through the night, it would take his regiment two days to reach Amasulu.
Let us be in time!
With this plea in his heart, Ialu leaped onto his horse, gesturing for the men to follow.
4
IN THE CAMP
Hemp curtains had been stretched on poles to create enclosures on a hill overlooking the Amasulu River. Standing outside the entrance to the largest enclosure, Yohalu called out, “Elin, I have brought His Excellency, the Aluhan. We’re coming in.” The instant he grasped the curtain, however, loud growls rose from inside, and he froze with the cloth still clutched in his fist.
Footsteps sounded from inside, and he heard Elin speak. “Hush now.” Although her voice was not loud, the growling ceased instantly. Yohalu, however, remained rooted to the spot, goosebumps prickling his scalp.
Elin raised the entrance flap. “My apologies,” she said. “Please come in.”
Yohalu cleared his throat. “His Excellency is with me. Is it all right for both of us to enter?”
Elin smiled. “Of course. However, I must ask that you stay just inside the entrance without coming in any farther. This c
urtain is really the outer limit of their territory, and you both smell of Toda.”
“Ah, I see.” Yohalu wiped the sweat from his brow and ducked cautiously under the curtain with Shunan following behind. Once inside, they were rendered speechless.
A Royal Beast towered in front of them, and more stood behind it, each separated from the others by an even interval. Hackles raised, teeth bared, eyes flashing, they glared down at the two men.
“Shhh-shhh.” Elin made soothing noises as if calming a child until the Beasts gradually settled. At last, they averted their eyes and began licking the fur on their chests.
His face tense, Shunan whispered to Elin, “Is it all right to talk here?”
Elin smiled apologetically. “Yes, but please refrain from making any sudden moves.”
Shunan let out a slow breath. When angered, a Royal Beast could devour a person from the waist up in a single bite. Standing before them, Shunan felt that possibility so acutely, he could hardly breathe. “Terrifying. Absolutely terrifying. I thought Toda were frightening, but I’ve never experienced anything like this. Not even when I rode on Leelan’s back all those years ago.”
Shunan’s lips crooked. “I just wanted to see them, and never gave it a second thought. But now I’m petrified.”
Yohalu nodded, his eyes glued to the Royal Beasts. “Me too. I still have goosebumps.” He shook his head. “They truly are the king of beasts.”
Elin placed the feed pail she had been holding in one hand on the grass, and the two men looked at her as though waking from a dream. “Oh,” Yohalu said. “I forgot. Part of the reason we came here was to tell you that Her Majesty, the Yojeh, has arrived and asks if she can visit the Royal Beasts now.”
Elin nodded. “Yes, certainly.”
Yohalu lifted the flap and went outside. Not long after, voices approached. Hearing Yohalu warning the Yojeh to be sure to keep her voice low, Shunan and Elin caught each other’s eyes and smiled.
“Elin, may I come in?” Seimiya asked.
Elin reached out and raised the cloth. “Yes, please do.”
Seimiya ducked inside. The Royal Beasts raised their heads to look at her, but instead of growling, they regarded her silently.
“Well, that’s a surprise,” Shunan murmured. “They don’t growl at you.”
Seimiya put a hand to her heart as though relieved. “You still remember me, do you?” she said to the Beasts. “I’m so glad.”
Holding the Silent Whistle ready, Elin took the Yojeh’s hand and led her to Leelan. Shunan and Yohalu tensed as they watched them walk so close to Leelan they could have touched her. Seimiya raised her head to look up into the Beast’s face. Picking her harp up from the grass, Elin passed it to Seimiya, who looked at her with a surprised expression.
“Please. Speak to them,” Elin urged her.
Seimiya nodded. Hesitantly, she began plucking the strings. Leelan cocked her head and listened, then slowly she began to wave her head and sing notes very similar to those Seimiya played on the harp. Seimiya’s eyes widened. The sound of the harp mingled with Leelan’s song, becoming one voice.
Tears welled in Seimiya’s eyes and trickled down her cheeks. Gently she placed a hand on the strings to still them. “Thank you, Leelan,” she said.
* * *
When the Yojeh and the Aluhan left, Yohalu remained behind. He told Elin to carry on with her chores, saying that he just wanted to look at the Royal Beasts a little longer. Elin began her regular routine, but as she passed Kalu, he lowered his head and butted her in the shoulder with his nose. She staggered. “Kalu, stop that,” she said, pushing his nose away.
He wanted her to pet him. The eldest son of Leelan and Eku, he had always wanted attention as a cub. Although he was now grown, he hadn’t changed. Rubbing the side of his nose, she thought that if they could return home, she’d like to give him his own territory. She was sure he’d make a good, affectionate father, like Eku.
She began raking together the manure with a hoe. “Surely there’s no need to do that here in the field,” Yohalu said in a surprised tone.
Elin stretched her back and looked at him. “In such a small space, to leave it messy will make them irritable. The odor of manure and urine is what they use to mark their territory. Besides, the manure tells me a lot about their physical condition.”
She gathered the manure into one spot and examined it, then dumped it into a pit dug in a corner of the enclosure. Yohalu watched her silently for a while. “You seem very calm,” he remarked.
Elin turned. “Is that how I appear to you?”
“You mean you’re not?” he asked.
Elin gave a wry smile. “I didn’t sleep a wink last night.”
Yohalu grinned. “I see. But there’s no need for you to worry. I doubt you’ll need to fly the Royal Beasts. Although we asked you to come here, the defenses at Imeelu are impenetrable. Even if the Lahza have a Toda army, such untried troops couldn’t possibly defeat our battle-hardened forces.”
Elin listened silently, resting her hoe on the ground.
“Although I’m sure you object to us breeding Toda at all,” Yohalu continued, “the new breed has incredible mobility and striking capacity. With them on our side, you’ll never need to fly the Royal Beasts to war.”
Elin shifted her gaze from Yohalu and looked up at Kalu beside her. “From the day I lost my mother,” she said quietly, “I decided not to believe in lasting happiness, but instead, to prepare for the misfortune that was bound to come. That’s how I have lived my life.” A faint smile touched her lips. “I don’t like to be caught off guard by fate. I’m really a coward at heart.”
“That’s an important mentality,” Yohalu said gently. “But tonight, you can rest easy. I’ll have them bring you a nightcap to help you sleep.”
Elin smiled. “Thank you,” she said.
After Yohalu left, the breeze creaking in the branches of distant trees and the flapping of the camp enclosures sounded loud in Elin’s ears. She walked over to Leelan and pressed her face against her belly, just as she had done when she was a child. The soft warmth of Leelan’s fur and the rumble of her breathing calmed Elin’s mind like waves lapping the shore. To live was such a simple thing. This thought rose in her mind, then receded.
* * *
Elin’s eyes flew open at the sound of footsteps running by the enclosure where she slept. It was still dark but the shadows of people outside, backlit by torches, flitted across the curtains. She reached for her clothes, which lay folded beside her pillow. She had just finished dressing when she heard a man’s voice. “Lady Elin, are you awake?”
“Yes,” she responded.
“You are requested to come immediately. I will wait here to accompany you, so please come out once you are ready.”
Slipping her feet into her shoes, Elin stepped outside. “I’m ready,” she said. “Please lead me there.”
Whatever had happened, it had thrown the whole camp into an uproar. Lanterns burned brightly in the large enclosure that housed the Yojeh and the Aluhan, and grim-faced soldiers surrounded it. When Elin’s arrival was announced, the flap was raised immediately. It was so bright inside that her eyes were momentarily dazzled.
“Elin, over here,” Yohalu said. He took her arm and drew her to the large table in the center. The Yojeh and the Aluhan stood across from her flanked by the warlords of Aluhan territory. The nobles from Yojeh territory stumbled into the space after Elin, many of them rubbing swollen eyes, as if they had been rudely awakened from a deep sleep. From their disheveled hair and hastily tied belts, it was clear that many of them had never had to get ready on such short notice. To be summoned in the middle of the night like this would have seemed very rushed indeed.
After confirming that everyone was present, the Aluhan said, “A short while ago we received an urgent message via Lord Yohalu’s hall. A report arrived there by courier pigeon from a lookout tower on the banks of the Makan River. A host of Lahza was seen coming down the river mounted on
Toda.”
The nobles erupted in loud exclamations, but the Aluhan’s solemn voice cut through the clamor. “The two thousand Lahza horsemen advancing through the plains appear to have been a ruse. The enemy’s main force is heading straight here to Amasulu.”
The nobles froze, robbed of speech. With his eyes fixed on their faces, the Aluhan said, “I’ve already explained the situation to our commanders and ordered the Toda troops that remained here to prepare to move out to the Amasulu River. The main force will be led by Muhan of the Black Armor, son-in-law of the lord of Amasulu.”
When the Aluhan finished speaking, the Yojeh looked at each of the nobles. “It’s time to go to war,” she said.
The nobles stared at her with stunned expressions. Until this moment, they and their families had condemned war as unclean, while believing it was their inherent right to profit from bloodshed. Each family had been ordered to send one representative. Many had chosen to send their second or third sons, but some, afraid to lose any of their heirs, had come in person, leaving their eldest in charge.
The Yojeh urged them to look at the map. “You’ve all brought a company of archers with you. Lead them upstream from where our Toda troops will defend the river.” She pointed to a spot on the map. “The forest cover is quite thick here, making it hard to land. To leave the river, the Lahza will ride beyond this point to the shallows downstream. Tell the archers to shoot the Lahza as they ride their Toda past them.”
Looking at their pale, silent faces, Seimiya continued, her voice firm. “Once you’ve positioned the archers among the trees, lead your cavalry to close off the rear of the Toda troops. The city of Amasulu must be defended at all costs.”
She waited until they had nodded their assent, then turned toward Elin. “Elin,” she said. “Stand by on the hilltop with the Royal Beasts ready to fly at a moment’s notice.” She paused for a moment, her fair porcelain-like features taut and strained, making her look like a stranger. “I’m sure the seasoned troops of our kingdom will never be defeated by the inexperienced Lahza,” she said. “But even so, we should be prepared.”
The Beast Warrior Page 43