Dendera

by Yuya Sato

  Somo Izumi cut in, saying, “What if we set a trap? We can dig an enormous hole and lure the bear to it. When the beast falls in, we clobber it.”

  “That’s idiotic,” Hatsu Fukuzawa said with a smile on her lips but nowhere else. “Why don’t you try tossing one of those straw wadara rings of yours at it?”

  “Stuff it,” Somo Izumi retorted. “If a pit won’t work, we can poison the thing.”

  “Poison it? With what? Where do we have anything like that?”

  “Who cares what we use to kill it,” Kyu Hoshina said, her hands still clasped, “as long as we do.”

  Hatsu Fukuzawa clapped Kyu Hoshina on the shoulder and said, “Let’s avenge them together, Kyu.”

  “I’ll be dead soon either way.” Kyu Hoshina smiled weakly and separated her hands. “A bear’s head won’t be a bad prize to bring to the other world.”

  The chief said, “A bear’s head, you say? That’s a good one!” Arising, she stood before the four baskets and proclaimed, “We’ll bring you the bear’s head in offering. That should please you. You’ll be able to rest in peace.”

  Kyu Hoshina said, “I hope they can reach Paradise. They didn’t complete their Climb, but they were killed by the bear. I think the Mountain will forgive them.”

  Hatsu Fukuzawa said, “Right now, they’re in Paradise eating all the bear meat they can fit in their stomachs,” then shared a laugh with Kyu Hoshina.

  The women had begun to regain their spirits, but Kayu Saitoh remained wordless. Her conversation with Kura Kuroi remained in her head, but that wasn’t what bothered her—a strange noise had caught her attention for a little while now. She could hear it coming from the other side of the wall. It was a rustling. Something was moving out there. At first she thought it was snowflakes hitting the walls, but it wasn’t snowing and the skies were clear, the moonlight illuminating the snowy ground. She stood to go see, when a rumbling came like she’d never heard, and a black shape burst through the wall, scattering the four baskets and their grisly contents. The black mass tossed Ume Itano aside and kicked over the hearth.

  The moment the fire went out, Kayu Saitoh saw the clear image of the bear’s face and forelegs.

  3

  After eating of the Two-Legs meat that she had brought back, Redback’s stomach was finally full again. Together with her similarly full cub, she hid in the bamboo grass and slept. The cold air clung to her, but the food in her stomach warmed her body, and she was so very tired. Both she and her cub should have been hibernating in a den until spring’s coming. Out here, even the simple act of breathing consumed their energy.

  Whether bears dream or not remains unknown, but in Redback’s slumber, she recalled the time when the mountain was bountiful. Spikenard. Wild parsley. Grapes. Acorns. Salmon. She thought of the time when such sources of nourishment abounded. As the products of nature, these foods weren’t necessarily to be found in the same amounts each year; but Redback had never seen a year as mean as this one. The prolonged rains that had come at summer’s end were the primary cause, affecting even the rivers. The cold currents rose, and not even the spawning salmon swam upstream, for the changes in water temperature and volume had sent the fishes’ paths astray. Redback’s food supply had vanished. Frustration at her empty stomach turned to rage, which then turned to hatred against the Two-Legs.

  In truth, Redback feared the Two-Legs.

  They could fell trees using some kind of strength unknown to her. They could inflict terrible pain upon her with those strange sticks. But without those strange, fire-spitting sticks, the Two-Legs were weak. They crumpled at a single blow.

  Two-Legs were weak without those strange sticks.

  And their meat was remarkably delicious and came in such volume that she couldn’t finish it in one sitting. Even better, the Two-Legs were far easier prey than salmon or deer. Ruminating over these many blessings, Redback slept.

  The next morning, she awoke amid feelings of satisfaction. Digging at the base of the fir tree, she unearthed her leftover meat. She touched her snout to her cub’s cheek, awakening him, and coaxed the little bear to eat. With a joyful roar, he ate of the Two-Legs’ meat, bones and all. As her cub was engrossed in his feast, Redback kept a protective watch, surveying their surroundings.

  He was still young, having been birthed during her hibernation the winter before last. He had come out no bigger than a mouse, and she fed him her milk and consumed his excrement, and when the snow melted, his eyes opened, his teeth grew, and his body covered over with soft underfur and bristly guard hairs. He had started as a mouse but grown into a bear’s body. Mother and son crawled out from their den, and she began raising him to be the next ruler of the domain. But this year, she had been too busy securing food to attend to his upbringing. Redback and her cub had trudged across the infertile mountainside. The seasons passed, and snow fell earlier than in most years. For the two to have missed their hibernation would have typically fated them to die of starvation. Such was the way of the wild. But Redback had battled the Two-Legs and won. Until now, Redback had lived on nature’s bounty alone; this victory was the first step of her new life.

  Her nose caught a scent. She signaled her cub to stop eating. He recognized the situation but didn’t know how to properly react. As bits of saliva and gore dripped from his mouth, he sought shelter in her underbelly. Redback forced him away, returned the meat to the base of the fir tree, and dragged her cub into hiding within the bamboo grass.

  She saw the Two-Legs climbing the mountain’s slope.

  They walked slowly enough that she needn’t keep an eye on them. She signaled her plan to her cub, who was trembling, his ears pinned back. He twitched his nose and snorted, but Redback was resolute. Though sluggish, the Two-Legs were approaching. They seemed to have followed the blood trail, and Redback realized they had come to steal back her catch. When several of the creatures drew near to the bamboo grass where the mother and cub hid, Redback turned her resolve into action, spurring every muscle in her massive body into movement as she and her cub charged the group. The Two-Legs scattered into confused flight, clumsily tumbling down the slope. Next, Redback turned upon a cluster of Two-Legs that were wandering near the fir where she had hidden her meat. One was late in making an escape and flailed a stick about, not looking where it was swinging. To Redback, this was nothing to shy from, but she had taught her cub to fear the Two-Legs, and he veered from their charge. He crashed into a different Two-Legs but kept on running, seemingly oblivious. Redback pulled away from her attack and got her cub under control. He had been howling, overcome by confusion and discontent, but when he saw his mother, he was able to regain most of his composure, and he took his plump behind into hiding.

  Redback turned to the Two-Legs and roared. Her voice resounded across the mountain, and when the echo died off, she could hear the forest’s little creatures flee and resting birds take flight. The Two-Legs were no exception, and struck with fear, they let out weak cries and ran in all directions. Instead of moving to attack, Redback observed them. If her thoughts had words, they would have been this: Why had she been so frightened by them until now? How had they acted with such arrogance? For what reason do they exist?

  Suddenly, she understood.

  Again Redback charged. She charged, filled with even more confidence than before. Unwavering, her legs kicked against the ground and her head faced straight ahead. Redback was one life, with one will, in which dwelled one incredibly clear thought.

  Kill and devour.

  Keeping true to this thought, Redback displayed her power in a relentless rampage. The Two-Legs were no longer a threat but mere pieces of meat moving slowly about. Guided by instinct and her sense of supremacy, she pursued the Two-Legs as they climbed up trees and ran in circles screaming.

  But then something happened that forced her to reconsider her actions toward the Two-Legs. It happened when she was charging up an incline
after two of the fleeing creatures. She thought she had them cornered, when they turned on their heels and stood, taking a fighting stance, holding their sticks at the ready. Redback halted her charge. She recalled the fear she’d originally felt toward the Two-Legs. Hesitation began to take root within her. She tried to shake it off, standing upright on her hind legs to intimidate the creatures. But they didn’t run. Redback and the Two-Legs faced each other, clashing in determination and pride. Her cub came up from behind. Distressed, he buried his nose into the side of her hindquarters. He still feared the Two-Legs and seemed deeply affected by the Two-Legs’ menacing aura.

  Redback had been the one to call the temporary truce. But she didn’t simply retreat; she lowered her guard and her forelegs, and she turned, leaving her back exposed, and marched away with dignity. By exposing her rear and moving without urgency, she was signaling exactly how much she outmatched the Two-Legs. At the same time, she was testing the women’s might. If they truly were strong, they would attack her when she was defenseless. But the Two-Legs didn’t move. Once she was out of the creatures’ sight, she ran at full speed, pulling her cub along, until they had built up a good distance.

  Redback had cautiously taken her cub deep up the mountain, but when night came and she was hungry again, she returned. She intended to finish off the meat she’d hidden at the base of the fir but found that her food had been unearthed and stolen. Rage spread within her. The red fur on her back stood up, and she exuded her animal scent. The theft of her meat, her food, her possessions, was a violation of her sovereignty. If they stole from her, she would steal back. The rage filled her now, and with her hackles still raised, she once again set out for the land where the Two-Legs dwelled.

  When she arrived, she cloaked herself in the darkness and observed. She saw one of the buildings where they kept their food, but she hadn’t come to satisfy her hunger; she was here to reclaim her meat. The Two-Legs needed to be punished for breaking the order of things. She attuned her sense of smell to the wind. Among the smells to which she was accustomed—those of snow; the expanse of wet earth beneath; trees, sticky; the animals of the mountain—she found a putrid scent. It too led to a building. The structure looked weak, like it would give against a single solid strike. From within came the rotting smell—and the voices of the Two-Legs.

  She struck the building head-on. The wall opened up even easier than expected, and her momentum carried her through. She ended up scattering the baskets of stolen meat that had been her objective. Seeing the fourteen Two-Legs clustered around the central fire, she decided to display her strength by tossing aside the nearest one, then immediately kicking out the flame. Deciding that this must have completely subjugated the Two-Legs, she moved her eyes and saw one of the Two-Legs staring at her straight on.

  Redback was an animal of the wild, and she found this creature’s gaze so incomprehensible that she reflexively stopped. Those eyes showed no panic, no anger; no fear, no awe; but were incredibly calm, as if they had just found a counterpart.

  Everything happened quickly. The nine women aside from Ume Itano, who had been sent flying, might have been startled by the bear’s appearance, but within an instant they understood they needed to fight rather than flee. They each gripped their weapons: Kyu Hoshina and Mei Mitsuya held their wooden spears; Hatsu Fukuzawa, Soh Kiriyama, and Hikari Asami picked up pieces of firewood; Kayu Saitoh and Inui Makabe picked up stone knives, while Itsuru Obuchi and Somo Izumi balled their hands into fists. Their actions were cool-headed and true. Only one problem remained: how to go about the difficult task of killing the bear. Worse yet were the conditions inside the hut: the fire had gone out, sinking the room into darkness. The women’s eyes had been acclimated to the light, and now they couldn’t see anything around them, let alone the bear itself. Kayu Saitoh was no exception. Frozen in her mind’s eye was the bear’s face, the last thing she had seen before the light was extinguished. But now, seeing only darkness, she was unable to swing the dagger in her hand.

  But unless they took action, nothing would happen.

  Even if one of them knew exactly what to do, the action would be meaningless unless she could communicate it to the others, both in and outside the hut. Only those who realized that could move.

  Kayu Saitoh slashed the darkness with her knife. She didn’t hit anything, but one of the others mistook the sound of the moving air for the beast and charged at her. In the next moment, a sound rang through the darkness. Something had struck the floor. Then came a scream. And another scream. It was Hatsu Fukuzawa. Soon, a wet, sticky sound mixed in with her screams. It was a gruesome sound, and one that did not bode well for the woman’s survival. As the noise continued somewhere nearby, Kayu Saitoh stood blind and motionless, irritated at her inability to act. But then, suddenly, one small part of what had been complete darkness lifted. A small but forceful light had appeared.

  It was a torch.

  And Mei Mitsuya held it. The torch was just one small light against the oppressive darkness, but it peeled back the shadows enough to reveal what had happened to Hatsu Fukuzawa. Her body had been ripped apart, bones and all. Her entrails had spilled out, and her neck was twisted in an unnatural angle. The torch moved, and its glow fell upon on forelegs that lifted her body up as if it weighed nothing. The sight of the bear, whose body was far too massive to be fully illuminated by a single torch, would normally have sent waves of terror through the women in the hut, but they were gripped by the call of battle. Kyu Hoshina held out her spear and ran at the beast, while Soh Kiriyama and Hikari Asami moved to flank it, and Kayu Saitoh and Inui Makabe swung their knives. The bear reacted calmly, tossing Hatsu Fukuzawa’s corpse into Kyu Hoshina, Kayu Saitoh, and Inui Makabe, whose forward charge dissipated as their legs tangled up in the body and its tumbling entrails. Even as her feet slipped on the still-warm viscera, Kayu Saitoh managed to stand back up. The bear moved quickly, pouncing onto Soh Kiriyama and Hikari Asami. The beast bared its fangs and tried to sink them into Hikari Asami, who was underneath its chest. But its fangs didn’t reach her, stopping partway even as they dripped with hot saliva. Soh Kiriyama was wedged between the bear’s chest and the woman, and her body seemed to be preventing the bear from being able to reach. The bear persisted, chomping at Hikari Asami, but the woman remained safe by a hair’s breadth.

  The torchlight moved.

  Mei Mitsuya ran forward and whacked the bear’s rump with the burning torch.

  In truth, Kayu Saitoh hadn’t expected that something of that degree would unnerve the bear, but contrary to her belief, the bear jumped up with its back legs and scrambled out the hole from which it had entered. Its departure was as sudden as its arrival and left the women in stunned silence. The chief was the first to move. She waved her torch about and shouted something. It was “something” not because Kayu Saitoh couldn’t make it out, but because it wasn’t in words. It was nearly a shriek. The noise jolted Kayu Saitoh out of her horrified paralysis, and she wiped away the viscera clinging to her body and ran to Soh Kiriyama and Hikari Asami.

  Hikari Asami looked up at her and said softly, “I’m … not injured.”

  Soh Kiriyama, who also appeared to be unharmed, looked down at Ume Itano, who had fallen on the ground. The woman groaned painfully but didn’t have any outwardly apparent injuries. If she had been wounded by the brown bear, she would have met the same fate as Hatsu Fukuzawa, dead with her guts strewn about.

  Glaring at what was left of Hatsu Fukuzawa, Kyu Hoshina said, “It got her.”

  “It killed Hatsu Fukuzawa,” Kayu Saitoh muttered, confirming the truth. “We were powerless again.”

  “That damned bear!” the chief said, her torch lighting her dark red face. “What happened? Why did the bear come here?”

  Hikari Asami said, “Maybe it thought we stole its catch.”

  “Its catch?”

  “Matsuki Nagao, Ran Kubo, Kuwa Kure, and Sasaka Yagi … from the bear’s point
of view, they’re its rightfully gained catch.” Hikari Asami straightened her white robes, though she couldn’t brush off the bear’s smell. “We … took back Sasaka Yagi’s remains. The bear might have decided that we stole its food.”

  “Doesn’t that beast know what a funeral is?” the chief asked, but a sound came from the outside, and the women immediately tensed and crouched down, on their guard.

  “What happened?” A voice called out to them. “Did something happen? Oh, it’s me—Hono Ishizuka.”

  The women stepped outside where Hono Ishizuka stood torch in hand. The woman’s dog pelt, worn slung over her shoulders, had Kayu Saitoh seeing visions of the bear, so she averted her eyes.

  “You sap-for-brains!” Mei Mitsuya bellowed. “Don’t startle us like that!”

  “I could say the same to you, Mei. You came barging into my hut and stole my torch. So … what happened?”

  “The bear.”

  “I thought so.”

  “You thought so?”

  “Well, I got to talking with the others in my hut, and that’s what we came up with. It was the look on your face that did it.”

  “If you thought that’s what it was, why didn’t you hurry up and help us? Where are the rest of you?”

  “They’re scared stiff,” Hono Ishizuka said as if it couldn’t be helped. Then she looked to Kayu Saitoh and Kyu Hoshina, who were soaked in blood and guts, and she gasped. Kyu Hoshina told her Hatsu Fukuzawa had died, and she lowered her head.

  Kayu Saitoh couldn’t be sure, but she assumed the heavy silence would continue for quite a long time. They had a death to mourn, but more than that, the bear’s attack sank their spirits. She thought this silence would last the whole night. But something unexpected came to shatter it. Here, Kayu Saitoh would learn that tragedy came not only sudden and unexpectedly, but in succession as well.