Guardian of the Spirit

by Nahoko Uehashi

  I wonder what he’s doing now, she thought. What kind of life will he lead? She felt a sharp pang at the thought that she would not be a part of it. We’ll probably never meet again. The boy that she had met so suddenly and parted from just as abruptly would spend the rest of his life within the palace, the son of a god descended from heaven…. In the end, all I could do was to help save his life. Yet perhaps the day would come when he would remember her with the same feeling she held for her foster father, Jiguro.

  Rain streamed from the edge of her straw hat.

  The world around her could change so suddenly, for no apparent reason. She could only do her best to live with those changes, seeking, as everyone must, the path in life that was right for her. There was surely no such thing as a life without any regrets at all.

  Ah, how I’d love some of Tanda’s vegetable stew, she thought. She smiled. Through the trees in the valley, she could glimpse, far in the distance, blue mountains shrouded in rain.

  THE END

  BALSA an itinerant female bodyguard and skilled spear-wielder from Kanbal

  CHAGUM the Second Prince of New Yogo

  GAKAI a Star Reader

  JIGURO MUSA Balsa’s foster father, the strongest spear-wielder in Kanbal

  JIN a Hunter; the name means “Two”

  KAINAN NANAI the first Master Star Reader

  KARUNA YONSA Balsa’s father, the physician to the king of Kanbal

  THE MASTER STAR READER the Mikado’s closest advisor, who functions as the prime minister; the real name of the current Master Star Reader is Hibi Tonan

  THE MIKADO the ruler of New Yogo; Chagum’s father

  MON the leader of the Hunters; the name means “One”

  NAGURU onetime king of Kanbal

  NINA a little girl of Yakoo descent

  NOYA a man of Yakoo descent; Nina’s grandfather

  ROGSAM onetime king of Kanbal

  SAGUM the Crown Prince of New Yogo

  SAYA a young girl who was once saved by Balsa; lives with Toya in Ogi no Shimo

  THE SECOND QUEEN Chagum’s mother

  SHUGA a Star Reader

  SIGURU a Yakoo boy who once served as the Guardian of the Spirit

  SUNE a Hunter; the name means “Eight”

  TAGA a Hunter; the name means “Seven”

  TANDA a healer and apprentice magic weaver; Balsa’s childhood friend

  TOROGAI one of the greatest magic weavers of that time

  TORUGARU the first Mikado and founder of New Yogo

  TOYA an errand runner in Kosenkyo, who was once saved by Balsa; lives with Saya in Ogi no Shimo

  YUGA a man of Yakoo descent who lives in the village of Yashiro; Nina’s father

  YUN a Hunter; the name means “Four”

  ZEN a Hunter; the name means “Three”

  AOIKE POND a pond on the Nayoro Peninsula, where shigu salua grows

  AOYUMI RIVER a river that runs just outside Kosenkyo

  HOSHINOMIYA PALACE also known as the Star Palace; home to and headquarters of the Star Readers

  ICHINOMIYA PALACE home of the First Prince

  JUCHI RO GAI the Mud Dwellers of Nayugu

  KANBAL a country north of New Yogo, over the Misty Blue Mountains

  KOSENKYO capital of New Yogo; the name means “shining fan”

  MORIBITO the Yogoese name for the Guardian of the Spirit

  NAHJI a bird sacred to the Yakoo

  NAYORO PENINSULA where the action takes place

  NAYUGU to the Yakoo, a world that overlaps with Sagu. Although normally Nayugu is invisible to people in Sagu, the two interact and affect one another.

  NEW YOGO the country on the Nayoro Peninsula founded by Torugaru and Nanai

  NINOMIYA PALACE home of the Second Prince

  NYUNGA RO CHAGA the Yakoo name for the Guardian of the Spirit

  NYUNGA RO IM the Yakoo name for the Water Spirit

  OGI NO KAMI the royal district of Kosenkyo; the name means “the handle of the fan”

  OGI NO NAKA the district of Kosenkyo where the nobility live; the name means “the center of the fan”

  OGI NO SHIMO the district of Kosenkyo where the commoners live; the name means “the edge of the fan”

  RARUNGA the Egg Eater; it dwells in Nayugu but can cross over to Sagu

  SAGU to the Yakoo, the visible world, where humans live

  SAHNAN head of the Aoyumi River; in Yakoo, “the water’s source”

  SANNOMIYA PALACE home of the Third Queen

  SHIGU SALUA a kind of water plant with a distinctive flower and smell

  SHURIKEN a sharp metal throwing dart

  TEN NO KAMI the supreme god of the Yogoese

  TENDO the Yogoese Law of the Universe

  TO RO GAI the Land Dwellers of Sagu

  TORINAKI RIVER a river that runs along the east side of Kosenkyo

  YAKOO the indigenous people of the Nayoro Peninsula

  YASHIRO a village in New Yogo where many Yakoo live

  YOGO the people who colonized the Nayoro Peninsula; also, the country from which they came. The name means “land blessed by Ten no Kami.”

  YONA RO GAI the Water Dwellers of Nayugu

  Thirteen years ago, the idea for this story popped into my mind unexpectedly, like a little seed. I had borrowed some movies to watch at home, something I love to do in my spare time. I was just relaxing in the living room, not paying much attention to the previews, when suddenly a scene from an action movie caught my eye. I don’t even remember what movie it was, but there was a burning bus and I saw a woman, just an extra in the movie, leading a child by the hand as they escaped from the fire.

  Suddenly I wanted to write a story — the tale of a thirty-year-old woman protecting a child. Into my mind sprang an image of a woman. She was dressed for traveling and carrying a short spear. A young boy was holding her hand and running to keep up. He seemed well-bred, but strong-willed too. A million thoughts raced through my mind. He didn’t look like her child. Was she taking care of him for his mother? If so, why? One idea led to another, and before I knew it, the story was finished.

  Moribito: Guardian of the Spirit takes place in a land born from my imagination, and the names of the characters and places are all from languages that belong to this imaginary world. Yet it is also influenced by the culture and lifestyle of my birthplace, Japan, in some ways resembling the country in the Middle Ages.

  Like a tree spreading its branches, the story of this land that lies superimposed on another world has grown and expanded so that now, thirteen years after I started, there are ten tales in all. The Moribito series, which begins with this book, has won a wide following among children and their parents in Japan. Recently, it was made into an animated series for television by the director of Ghost in the Shell: Stand Alone Complex. It is also a popular manga series. And now it has crossed the ocean to the United States, Italy, and Taiwan. The seed that popped into my mind thirteen years ago has grown into a very large tree indeed.

  I am thrilled that Moribito: Guardian of the Spirit will be published and read in the United States. I hope you enjoy the adventures of Balsa, the kind-hearted, spear-wielding bodyguard, and the brave, honest boy she protects in this fantasy world that carries the scent of Japan.

  Nahoko Uehashi

  Chiba, Japan

  May 2008

  Outside, the night air enveloped them, startlingly cold and smelling of snow: night’s breath blowing down from the snow-capped mother range. White peaks glittered blue in the moonlight. Arrested by the familiar scent of her home-land, Balsa stopped and gazed up at the star-dusted sky.

  “Er. …” The boy looked up at Balsa, his face faintly lit by the moon. A head shorter than her but sturdily built, he looked about fourteen or fifteen. His tunic of tanned goat hide marked him as a member of the warrior class, as did the broad knife that hung from the back of his thick leather belt. “Thank you,” he said, his voice husky, as if it had only recently changed.

  “Yes, well, we
were just lucky to get out of there alive,” Balsa replied, and then added sternly, “How could you be so stupid? Taking your younger sister into the cave to test your courage! A young man like you with the right to carry a dagger — you should have known better. She could have been killed!”

  The boy looked startled. “No, you’ve got it all wrong!” his sister interjected. “I was the one who went in to get the stone, not my brother.” Her voice was surprisingly firm and steady. Balsa had assumed she was only about ten, but she revised her estimate to twelve or even thirteen. “There’s this boy in our village who’s so stuck up — he keeps talking about how he’s from the chieftain’s line and laughing at us, and he said if we went into the caves to get a stone, we’d never come out alive because we’re just from a branch family. That’s why I did it.”

  Balsa suppressed a smile. “I see. Now I understand why you did it. But it still wasn’t worth risking your life. You should never underestimate the caves. You almost died in there tonight.”

  The two children said nothing, most likely reliving the terror they felt when they met the hyohlu. The girl shuddered on Balsa’s back, and she hitched her higher up. “Don’t ever go into the caves again, you understand?” She felt the girl nod. “Good. That’s settled then. Is your village near here?”

  “Yes,” the boy responded. “I’m Kassa, son of Tonno of the Musa clan. This is my sister Gina.”

  His words startled Balsa. Jiguro had belonged to the Musa clan. She had never heard the name Tonno, but still, it seemed a strange coincidence that the first people she should meet after twenty-five years were from Jiguro’s clan. Now she understood how he had known these caves so well. This was his territory, and that was why he had chosen this escape route all those years ago.

  “Excuse me, but are you a foreigner?” Kassa asked hesitantly, interrupting her thoughts.

  “What?”

  “You’re dressed like someone from New Yogo, and the way you talk is, well …”

  Since Jiguro’s death, she had had few opportunities to speak Kanbalese, and she now found herself searching the past for words. Apparently they had noticed it too. “No, I was born in Kanbal. But I’ve been on a very long journey.”

  As she said this, her natural instinct for caution took over. She had come back to Kanbal to find Jiguro’s family and tell them the truth about why he had to escape. But before she did that, she needed to know what people thought about their flight. Royal politics and treachery had forced them to flee; to reveal her identity too soon might be very dangerous.

  She looked down at the boy. “You’re Kassa and Gina, right? I want you to do me a favor.” Kassa nodded. “Don’t tell anyone that you met me in the caves. You can tell your family that you saved Gina yourself.”

  It was too dark to see clearly, but she thought that Kassa looked troubled. “Can’t we tell our parents?” Gina asked from her perch on Balsa’s back. “If you come with us, I know they’ll want to meet you and have you stay for a meal. Please come with us.”

  “Thank you, but I can’t.” Balsa had already thought of her excuse for traveling around Kanbal, and she used it now. “I’m on a journey of penance to save my foster father’s soul. If I accept any hospitality from your family, my good deed won’t have any effect. You know that, don’t you? So please don’t tell anyone that I helped you.”

  The children nodded, and Balsa breathed a secret sigh of relief. The people of Kanbal believed that those who died without righting their wrongs suffered eternally as slaves of the Mountain King, the mysterious ruler of the land underground. Their only hope for salvation was for one of the living to abandon home and family and wander about doing good deeds in atonement for the dead person’s sins.

  Balsa had no idea if this was true. She had traveled widely and found that people ’s beliefs about where the soul went after death differed from one country to the next. She did not really care which of these versions was right: She would find out soon enough when she died. But people doing penance might wear a red headband or even don the clothes of the opposite sex, which would explain Balsa’s spear and man’s attire. It was the perfect excuse. And besides, she thought to herself, it’s not so far from the truth.

  “Can you make it home from here on your own?” she asked. Kassa nodded. “All right, then. Oh, and by the way, what did you do with the torch?”

  “I still have it, but it was snuffed out.” He held it up for Balsa to see. She frowned. The usually bristly top was flat and smooth, as if it had been sliced with a sharp blade. She remembered the whistling sound and the flash of light that struck the torch. Had the hyohlu thrown some kind of weapon? If so, she thought, it must have been very sharp and broad. And even then, could he really have snuffed out a torch in one throw?

  But this was no time to be wondering. She lowered Gina to the ground and helped her climb onto Kassa’s back, then took a flint box from her bag to light the torch. She gave it to Gina and asked Kassa, “Will this last you until you reach home?”

  They nodded. She could see them clearly for the first time in the light of the torch. Kassa had a boyish face and looked a little unsure of himself, but she could tell he was a serious youth who cared about his sister. Gina was dark-skinned, and her braided hair was looped on top of her head. Although there was still a trace of fear in her eyes, her firmly set lips betrayed a strong will.

  “Well, I guess it’s time to say good-bye,” Balsa said. “I don’t suppose you could tell me the quickest way from here to the nearest market?”

  “That would be Sula Lassal,” Kassa said. “It’s about thirty lon from here — what you’d call an hour’s walk that way, down at the bottom of the valley. It’s the biggest lassal in Musa territory, so you’ll find lots of inns.”

  Balsa thanked him and headed down the path, but she had no intention of staying in an inn tonight. She would camp outside and wait until several hours after sunrise, when people were up and about. Then she would go to the market to buy some local clothes. If she wanted to be inconspicuous, everything else would have to wait.

  The two children watched her disappear rapidly into the darkness before they set off for home.

  “Kassa … ,” Gina whispered, “I’m really sorry.”

  He said nothing. It’s not something you can fix just by apologizing, he thought.

  Still, he understood why Gina had gone into the caves, and the reason had a name: Shisheem.

  “Let me tell you something,” Shisheem had announced that day at school. “Warriors who don’t belong to the chieftain’s line aren’t anything more than plain soldiers. They aren’t real warriors at all. That’s what my father says. I’m different, you see. I can be chosen as a King’s Spear, like my father, and go under the mountain to meet the hyohlu.” He looked down at Kassa and added, “We know the secret rituals, so we’re worthy of such an honor. You’d die if you tried to enter the caves.”

  Before Kassa could respond, Gina said hotly, “Oh, really? And you think you wouldn’t? All right then — prove it! Show us a piece of hakuma.”

  Shisheem smiled gently , clearly just humoring a child. Then he put his hand into his tunic and pulled out a smooth, translucent white stone. “Here. See this? This is hakuma.” He caressed it gently with his thumb. “Clan chieftains teach their sons the secrets when they turn fifteen. Of course I can’t tell you what we do, but I’ve been training for over a year now. So you can dare me all you want — it’s just stupid kid games to me.”

  His words seemed to reach Kassa from some far and lofty place. Kassa was one of the shortest boys in his clan and not particularly strong, but he made up for it by being a fast runner and a decent spear-wielder. While Shisheem was taller and stronger, Kassa could still hone his warrior skills through effort and perseverance.

  But what Shisheem was talking about now was a completely different matter: There was nothing Kassa could do about his birth. The King’s Spears were the highest-ranked warriors in Kanbal. They lived in the capital and acted as the king
’s shield and guard, his last wall of defense in event of attack. More importantly, they alone had the glorious honor of meeting the Mountain King in his underground palace, which was said to be made of luminous blue luisha.

  But just as a commoner or a shepherd could never become a warrior, Kassa, though born to the warrior class, could never hope to become one of the nine Spears. Only direct descendants of the clan’s founder could be chosen, and the right was passed from father to son. Youth from the chieftain’s line went to live in the capital at the age of fifteen or sixteen, not long after they received their dagger, to devote themselves to acquiring the skills, etiquette, and knowledge required of upper-class warriors. Shisheem would likely leave for the capital soon, and one day he might even become a Spear. But Kassa would stay here in the village. Every winter he would migrate to New Yogo for work, and the rest of the year he would follow the goats with the Herder People, acting as their overlord. His skills as a warrior would only be called upon in the event of a war with another country.

  Although Kassa envied Shisheem, in his heart he was resigned. But Gina was stubborn, and too young to have given up on the future. On the way home from school, she looked up at Kassa and said, “The chieftain’s blood runs in our veins too, right?”

  “Yes, Mother is the chieftain’s younger sister,” Kassa said automatically. “But warrior blood is passed from father to son. That means nothing.”

  “Kassa, you give up too easily!” Gina protested. “Even commoners bring back stones from the caves.”

  It’s not bringing back a stone that’s important, Kassa thought, but he didn’t feel like explaining it to his sister. She fell silent, but he could guess what she was thinking.

  “Don’t do anything stupid, Gina.”

  She glared at him. “What do you mean by stupid?”

  “I mean, don’t even think about going into those caves to bring back a stone.”

  Before she could answer, some friends ran up and interrupted them. The rest of the day went by as usual, and Kassa forgot all about their conversation until he came home in the dark after spear practice.