The Beast Player

by Nahoko Uehashi

  The young woman knelt and bowed her head. “…Your Majesty, please pardon my rudeness.”

  The Yojeh smiled. “Rise. I was most pleased by the way you stood firm in the face of my nephew’s flattery. Tell me your name.”

  Elin rose and bowed. “My name is Elin, Your Majesty.”

  “Elin… ‘mountain apple’. I see. The fruit with a lovely fragrance that grows deep in the mountains. The name suits you.”

  Elin’s pale face suddenly relaxed.

  She looks so different when she smiles… Ialu thought. He had first guessed her to be twenty-five or six, but when she smiled, she looked about twenty.

  The Yojeh smiled gently and gazed at Elin. “So you are Ahlyo. Tell me, how did an Ahlyo come to be working here? You don’t need to worry. I have no intention of reproaching anyone, so please speak freely.”

  “If it please Your Majesty, I am not Ahlyo.” The Yojeh’s brows rose, but Elin continued calmly. “When my mother met my father, she chose expulsion from her people in order to marry him. So I have never lived as an Ahlyo. I entered this school because I aspired to be a beast doctor, and I have lived here ever since.”

  The Yojeh’s eyes shone with curiosity. “I see. Your mother must be a very determined woman. What is she doing now?”

  A shadow crossed Elin’s face. “…She’s dead. I have no parents. My father also died when he was very young.”

  The Yojeh frowned. “I see… So this is your home.”

  At that moment, Leelan let out a cry. She had been pushing her head against the bars for some time, as if trying to touch Elin, but now, apparently having lost patience, she began complaining loudly. The cub at her feet followed suit, beating its little wings and shoving its snout through the bars as it tried to lick Elin’s hand. Only Eku stood aloof and seemingly unconcerned.

  Giving Alu her fingers to lick, Elin looked pleadingly at the Yojeh. “I beg your forgiveness, Your Highness, but the Beasts wish to be fed.”

  The Yojeh laughed. “It is I who must apologize. I interrupted their dinner. They must be very hungry. I’m so sorry, Leelan. Go ahead and feed them, Elin. May I watch from here?”

  Elin cast a quick glance at Esalu and, when she nodded, bowed to the Yojeh. “Yes, of course, Your Majesty. Please watch from there.”

  Elin took several chunks of meat from the corner of the room and, opening the gate, walked inside the enclosure. Ialu and Damiya watched with amazed expressions.

  “She doesn’t use the Silent Whistle?” Damiya whispered.

  Esalu sighed and said in a low voice, “Because she has been caring for Leelan since she was a cub.”

  With the cub fawning at Elin’s feet and the mother beast demanding her attention, the scene seemed to contradict the idea that Beasts could never become accustomed to humans. Elin did not give any meat to Alu, nor did she respond to Leelan’s persistent calls. Instead, she threw a large chunk at the feet of Eku, where he stood protectively by the cub. He held the meat down with his hind foot while he tore it into smaller chunks and fed these to Alu. When the cub was breastfeeding, Leelan had never left its side, but once it was weaned, Eku had taken over its care. Now the father Beast never left its side, while Leelan spent much of her time basking in the sun as she pleased. Once Eku began feeding the cub, Leelan butted Elin’s back with her belly while calling insistently, as if to let Elin know that it was her turn. The Yojeh, Damiya and Ialu watched speechlessly.

  Wiping her hands on her apron, Elin came back through the gate. As if trying to excuse her behavior, Esalu murmured, “…Leelan was near death, you see… Elin cared for her day and night, never leaving her side. She saved Leelan’s life, so, as you can see, unlike the other Beasts, Leelan has become very attached to Elin.”

  “I see…” Damiya said. “Leelan was the cub that was hit by the arrow.”

  The Yojeh raised her brows. “The arrow?”

  Damiya smiled wryly. “Why yes. You remember, don’t you? This is the cub that I presented to you on your birthday, my dear aunt.”

  “Oh…”

  The Yojeh’s face darkened, but Damiya paid her no heed. Laughing, he said to Elin, “This Beast that you raised saved the life of that man over there.”

  Elin looked at Ialu questioningly, and he nodded. “The arrow grazed Leelan’s shoulder,” Damiya continued, “so that by the time it lodged in his stomach, it had lost much of its force. Isn’t that right, Ialu?”

  “Yes, but to me it was still sufficiently painful.”

  Damiya laughed cheerfully, but Elin frowned, as if she could feel the pain. “The arrow struck him in the stomach?” she whispered.

  “Ialu served as my shield,” the Yojeh said. “He threw himself between the arrow and me… But let us speak of this no more. I have no wish to recall that incident.”

  Ialu stared at Leelan as she licked the mouth of her cub. So it was you who saved me… He recalled how she had looked so pitifully anxious when the men had dragged her on a cart into the garden, and her terrified scream when the arrow had sliced through her shoulder. She must have been in miserable shape when she was brought here. What an amazing recovery.

  *

  “I can understand why Damiya was trying so hard to seduce you,” the Yojeh said in a cheerful voice, as though attempting to lighten her mood. “I, too, wish that you would come and care for the young cubs at Lazalu. You do not use the Silent Whistle, do you? I am glad, for I, too, hate that whistle. If it were possible to raise the Beasts without it, then that would be my greatest wish.”

  Elin and Esalu looked like children who, expecting to be whipped, had been given a sweet. “What’s wrong? Are you reluctant to leave here?”

  Elin blinked, as though the Yojeh’s voice had suddenly brought her back to her senses. “Oh, ah, yes… This is my home.” She drew a deep breath to calm her nerves. “Also, Alu is still a cub, and therefore I do not wish to make him move a long distance… If it is possible, I would prefer to stay here.”

  The Yojeh looked disappointed. “I see. Well, I do not wish to force you against your will, but do think about it. I have taken a great liking to you, and would very much like you to care for the cubs at Lazalu. I am sure that Leelan was able to bear young because you raised her with so much love and without the Silent Whistle. I would so like to see the young Beasts at Lazalu raised in the same way. Wouldn’t it be wonderful to see the meadow filled with Royal Beast cubs? I will be in touch again.”

  Elin bowed deeply. “I am honored, Your Majesty.”

  *

  As the Yojeh’s procession rolled out of sight, fatigue etched the faces of everyone at Kazalumu. The teachers breathed a sigh of relief that the visit had gone smoothly, but when Elin thought of what Esalu must be thinking, she could not bear to look at her.

  “How could you do that when I begged you to stay out of sight?” Esalu scolded her when the teachers had gone.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Esalu sighed. “It’s not that I don’t understand how you must have felt. I was so worried about Alu, my heart almost stopped.”

  The cub was far younger than those that were captured and brought to the Sanctuary. When the Yojeh had insisted on going closer, all the teachers had been concerned that the whistle might harm it. And that was why Elin had shouted for them to stop when they had been about to blow.

  “Still, it’s very odd,” Esalu murmured with a frown. “I wonder if the Yojeh doesn’t know the purpose of the Royal Beast Canon… Or did she say that even though she does know?”

  Elin recalled the Yojeh’s face when she had said that she hated the whistle too. “She didn’t seem to know, did she?” she said.

  “No, you’re right. She didn’t.” Esalu brushed back her hair. “Perhaps we were reading too much into this. Maybe the Royal Beast Canon doesn’t have the meaning we thought it did.”

  Although Elin thought this unlikely, it was also clear from the Yojeh’s response that, unlike the Ahlyo, she did not wish to keep the Royal Beasts confined within the Law
.

  “At any rate,” Esalu continued, “we’ll have to figure out what to do if she really wants the Royal Beasts to breed and increase… Her nephew seemed pretty intent on having you under his thumb, too.”

  The thought of Damiya made Elin’s flesh crawl.

  After leaving Esalu and returning to her room, Elin found it difficult to sleep. Anger flared whenever she remembered how Damiya had pressed her. She had been very afraid. No man had ever touched her like that before, and fear had made her cringe. It was this that made her angry. How she missed Yuyan. Confiding in her friend would have helped to dispel the feelings that weighed like mud on her mind, leaving it free and clear.

  Yuyan must be living happily in her village now, working as a beast doctor. Kashugan, as the third son in his family, had no obligation to carry on the family line, and, if they married, he would probably be adopted into Yuyan’s family. Elin gazed absently out the window. A cold loneliness spread through her chest. The solitude to which she had long grown accustomed had suddenly returned.

  As she gazed at her reflection in the window pane, the faces of everyone she had met that day flitted through her mind. For some reason, the person who had left the strongest impression was neither the Yojeh nor Damiya, but rather the guard who had stood quietly in the background. Perhaps it was the air of solitude that had enveloped him, like the silence of an empty forest in mid-winter. He had hardly spoken, yet he did not wear the grim expression of the other guards. Rather he seemed to be one step removed from everyone there.

  To use his body as a shield and throw himself into the path of an arrow aimed at the Yojeh… What kind of a life was that? Would he go on like that forever, never knowing when he would have to throw his life away?

  A wind must have sprung up. Elin stood for a long time gazing out the window at the branches moving in the darkness.

  3 AMBUSH

  The whole school had gathered on a bluff overlooking the Kazalumu River where it wound along the edge of the highlands. From here, they could see the many streams that flowed from the wooded hills to join the river, slowing it and widening its course. The vessel that would bear the Yojeh back to the capital would leave Salano around noon and, after passing below this spot, would vanish under the broad forest canopy.

  One of the teachers had complained that to look down on the Yojeh from the bluff would be disrespectful and proposed that they abandon the idea, but everyone else pretended not to hear. After all, they might never have another chance to see the lavish ship in which the Yojeh sailed.

  Elin was leaning against a rock and chatting with Tomura and the others. The sun-warmed stone made her drowsy. A well-prepared student had brought a telescope and was under orders to announce the boat’s appearance.

  “There they are!” he shouted, and everyone jumped to their feet.

  Far in the distance, three ships glided toward them on water so calm that it gleamed like molten silver. Two small ships sailed in front. Behind them, they towed a large vessel topped by a cabin adorned with glittering gold. Cheers rose from the group on the hill.

  The ships had just passed the mouth of one of the tributaries when the student with the telescope said, “What’s that?… What are… those… things?”

  The boys beside him gave him a friendly shove. “What’re you babbling about?”

  But the lookout ignored them, keeping his eye glued to the telescope. “…They’re coming out of that stream. Lots of them. They look like logs… with men on top… They’ve got bows slung over their backs…”

  A confused clamor erupted from the other students, and the teachers shielded their eyes with their hands, peering up the river. Although they were too far away to discern any bows, they could make out men astride what appeared to be logs, gliding from the shadow of the forest into the river. With a start, Elin realized what they were.

  Toda!…

  Toda bearing warriors. And they were closing in on the vessel that carried the Yojeh. It was only too clear what they planned to do.

  When the boy with the telescope shrieked, “They’re going to shoot!” Elin set off at a run.

  “Where do you think you’re going?!” Tomura yelled, but she did not stop to answer.

  You’re about to do something very foolish, Elin, she thought. She knew she shouldn’t do it. If she did, something terrible would happen… But if she didn’t, the Toda would rip the Yojeh to shreds. The vivid image of what that would look like spurred her on.

  Faster! Faster!

  She raced down to the meadow. “Leelan!” she yelled.

  Leelan had been romping about in the grass, but she raised her head and then bounded across the field. As they met, Elin shouted, “Take me up!” Leelan turned around and dropped into a crouch.

  Everything seemed surreal. Before she even realized what she was doing, Elin had shimmied up Leelan’s back and grasped her neck, pressing herself against her body. There was no time to get the saddle. She would have to fly like this.

  “…Fly?” Leelan asked.

  “Fly!” Elin answered. Leelan’s muscles rippled beneath her as the Beast spread her huge wings and leapt into the sky.

  “To the river. That way.” Shifting her weight, she leant to one side to indicate the direction. Leelan responded instantly, veering to the right. As they flew over the crowd of spectators on the cliff, Elin heard the faint sound of surprised voices, but she had no time to look.

  The Toda riders had already reached the stern of the Yojeh’s ship. Arrows fell like rain on the deck, striking several soldiers, but the Yojeh’s men put up a stiff fight. Standing near the stern, Elin saw one man in particular loosing arrow after arrow. With each shot, another rider fell from his mount into the river. But this did not slow the Toda. They rammed the lead ships, capsizing them, and the men on board were thrown into the river, where the Toda snapped them in their jaws.

  As they swarmed around the lead boats, the Yojeh’s ship began to tilt, pulled to one side by the ropes.

  It’ll capsize!

  The vessel listed sharply, and the gunwale almost touched the water. Several men who had been thrown from the boat clung to the thick cables. The warrior in the stern threw down his bow and drew his sword as he half slid, half ran to the gunwale. He raised his sword and severed the ropes with a single stroke. They shot into the air, and the ship ponderously righted itself, rocking slowly back and forth. Before it could come to a standstill, however, Toda began slamming into it. Bursting through the rails, one beast clambered onto the deck and made straight for the cabin. The man who had cut the ropes flung himself away from the gunwale and leapt in front, blocking its path. The Toda reared its head, preparing to snap him in two, but at that instant, the man plunged his sword deep inside its gaping maw. The Toda crashed to the deck, squealing in pain, and the man, dragged by its weight, fell with it.

  “There!” Elin shouted, but before the word had even left her mouth, Leelan launched into a dive, her muscles as hard as steel and her fur standing on end. Although she had never seen a Toda nor been taught how to respond, the sight of this natural enemy seemed to trigger an instinctive hatred that told her exactly what to do.

  A piercing sound cut through the wind roaring in Elin’s ears—a long, high-pitched whistle that she had never heard from Leelan before. The Toda below paused, then rolled over and exposed their bellies to the sky. Their riders screamed as they were flung into the river. One of them fell onto the deck, and he bravely raised his bow, aiming straight at Leelan’s belly. Elin closed her eyes as the arrows flew toward them, but when the shafts met the Beast’s steel-hard muscles, they bounced off and fell harmlessly into the river. The archer stared open-mouthed, then dived into the water.

  Leelan attacked the huge serpents in a frenzy, ripping their bodies to pieces with her sharp claws. The cloying scent of Toda and the metallic odor of blood filled Elin’s nostrils. Overcome by a wave of nausea, she closed her eyes again. The sound of rending and crunching seemed to go on forever, and it was all s
he could do just to hold on and not fall off.

  The Yojeh’s men and Damiya, who was peering through a hole in the cabin wall, watched dumbfounded as the Royal Beast, with a young woman perched on its back, slaughtered the defenseless Toda.

  Only when she had killed every last Toda did Leelan seem to come to her senses. She flapped her wings and flew leisurely across the river to alight on the bank. Elin was shaking so violently that she could not move. She clung to Leelan’s back even when the Beast waded into the shallows to wash the blood and slime from her belly. Every time she bowed her head to lick her chest, Elin felt herself jerked forward. At the sound of Leelan’s lips smacking, her stomach heaved. Sliding off, she crumpled to her knees in the shallows and vomited.

  A thin film of Toda slime spread across the water’s surface and drifted slowly away. Chunks of flesh fell from Leelan’s fur and plopped into the water. She poked them with her snout and sniffed, then plucked them out with her pink tongue and ate them. Oblivious to the water soaking her clothes, Elin knelt in the shallows and watched her blankly. A deadly chill spread from the pit of her stomach—as if a block of ice had slid across her insides. Gripping her thighs with her hands, she tried to still her trembling, but to no avail. Shuddering uncontrollably, she stared at the blood-spattered Beast.

  *

  Elin heard shouting—someone calling a name over and over, as if trying to keep a dear friend from dying. For a long time, the sounds of people screaming in agony had only registered as distant background noise, but the sudden realization of their meaning jolted her back to reality. A horrifying sight met her eyes.

  Tattered fragments of warriors, boatmen and Toda floated down the river. Perhaps because of their weight, those Toda corpses that were still relatively intact had floated in to shore where they caught in the shallows and bobbed against the bank. The smaller vessels, still upturned, had drifted away, but the Yojeh’s boat remained in the middle of the river. Without a steersman, it would be carried precariously downstream. A voice from on board was frantically calling someone’s name.