The Beast Player

by Nahoko Uehashi

  There was so much to do. In particular, she must decide quickly how to punish the Aluhan for his vile betrayal. Yet even this thought, despite its importance, merely floated in the forefront of her brain, stirring no emotion.

  A servant at the door announced that Damiya was requesting permission to enter, and Seimiya glanced up.

  “Let him in…”

  The door opened, and Damiya walked in. His face still looked pale, although he no longer used a sling. Ever since she was a child, he had been Seimiya’s father, brother and friend. The moment she saw the gentle concern in his eyes, a sense of normalcy, of everyday life, rushed back with startling vividness, and she was hit full force with the knowledge that her grandmother was no longer a part of that life.

  Seeing her lips tremble, Damiya strode across the room, opened his arms wide and wrapped her inside them. Enveloped in his warmth, tears spilt from her eyes. She clung to him tightly and wept, suppressing her sobs. Damiya buried his face in her hair and patted her on the back while tears coursed down his cheeks.

  For some time, Seimiya wept. When her tears were almost spent, she whispered into his chest, “Thank you. Thanks to you, Uncle, I was able to mourn my grandmother.”

  Damiya said nothing, merely stroking her hair gently.

  “If death can come so suddenly, I had better get around to having children soon, hadn’t I?” She smiled and, with a catch in her voice, said, “I must make sure there’s another heir to the Yojeh’s throne.”

  Damiya, his eyes still closed, took a deep breath and gently shook her slight frame twice. “Don’t say that.” His voice was almost a sigh, and he stroked her hair yet again. “You are not a tool for passing on sovereignty, Seimiya.”

  She rested a hand on his chest and drew slightly away to look up into his face. “Uncle, I beg you. Please don’t try to comfort me with empty words. I know too well what I am, what my duty is.” Her smile turned fierce. “From the time I was old enough to understand, I have never forgotten, not even once.”

  Damiya shook his head. “No, Seimiya, you do not realize what you truly are. You have never seen what really matters.”

  Seimiya raised her brows. “What really matters?”

  “That’s right. The throne does not exist just to make the ruler suffer. If you must sit on it, then why not enjoy the view that can only be seen from there? Seimiya, you have never once thought of enjoying your sovereignty, have you?”

  She gazed at the ground. Damiya placed a finger under her chin and gently raised it. “You are the only woman in this land who can choose any man she wishes. Choose the one you love and marry him.”

  “Impossible,” Seimiya said with a mocking smile. Her scornful expression was just like her grandmother’s. “I am the only woman in this country who truly cannot choose the man she wants. You know that.”

  “No, in fact, I don’t know that. Why?”

  She sighed. “Just think of the choices, Uncle. If we go by blood, perhaps you are thinking of my distant cousin, Oliya? That feeble boy with all the presence of a mayfly? Or, instead of the sacred bloodline, shall we opt for members of the nobility instead—all those spoilt arrogant youths. Enough of this fruitless discussion.”

  Damiya’s grip on her chin strengthened. “What do you mean by fruitless, my dear? This is a very important question, Seimiya. If there is anyone, say so.”

  “Anyone?”

  “A man that you truly like.”

  Seimiya held her breath. Her eyes slid from his, but then she raised them defiantly, gazing straight at him. “No, there’s no one.”

  Damiya laughed. “Come, come. Love affairs are the one thing at which I’m a veteran. Your face just spoke far more eloquently than your words.” He let go of her chin and embraced her, rocking her like a little child. “Relax. At least when you are in my arms, be at peace.” He buried his face in her hair and whispered, “Remember, you are not alone. I am always by your side.”

  Ialu, who was standing in front of the Yojeh’s room, sword and shield in hand, turned his head. Far down the hall, someone was hurrying toward him. There was an urgency in his step and his face was tense. It was Kailu, who had been on duty at the gate.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “The Aluhan’s eldest son,” Kailu whispered hoarsely. “He’s here and requests an audience with the Yojeh.”

  “How many soldiers has he brought?” Ialu asked sharply.

  “Actually… none. They bear no arms.”

  “What did you say?”

  “He’s brought only three men, none of whom are armed, and they’re all missing something—like a hand or a leg.”

  “Missing a hand or a leg?”

  “Yes. And one of the men’s faces is pitifully scarred.”

  Ialu was silent. He thought he could guess what Shunan, a quiet, intelligent young man, sought to tell the Yojeh. “I will announce their arrival. Wait here.”

  Standing before the Yojeh’s room, he requested permission to enter. After a few moments, a voice from within bade him in. As he walked into the room, he could not help noticing how close Damiya and Seimiya stood. Seimiya’s eyes were red, indicating that she had probably been crying, but there was color in her cheeks, and her expression was unexpectedly cheerful.

  Ialu’s heart sank, but he bowed and announced that Shunan was waiting at the gate.

  The color drained from Seimiya’s face. “What did you say?”

  Damiya put his arm around her thin shoulders as if to support her and said soothingly, “There’s no need to see him. You can turn him away.”

  She cast him an imploring glance. He tightened his hand on her shoulder. “To refuse to meet him is also an important way of expressing your will. Don’t allow yourself to be swayed by your emotions. Be firm.”

  She turned her eyes from Damiya and looked at Ialu’s rigid face. Her eyes reflected the turmoil in her heart. She took a deep breath, then said in a faint voice, “Usher him into the audience chamber.”

  Shunan entered the chamber alone. Seimiya’s eyes widened slightly when she saw him. In the last four years, he appeared to have matured into a wise and reserved young man. In comparison, she felt that, except for losing her youth, she had not changed at all, and for an instant she regretted agreeing to see him.

  He dropped to one knee and bowed his head. “I thank you for granting me an audience. I was sincerely grieved to hear of the untimely passing of Her Majesty, Halumiya.”

  Her face rigid, Seimiya whispered, “You? Grieved? Why?”

  Shunan raised his head, but rather than opening his mouth to speak, he seemed to be waiting to hear what she would say. Instead, Damiya, who sat beside her, spoke on her behalf. “Both we and you know very well who murdered my aunt. You have some nerve to utter such false condolences. I see you’ve inherited your father’s shameless arrogance.”

  Shunan gazed back at Damiya, his expression unmoved. “I beg your pardon, but do you in fact know who attacked the Lady Halumiya?”

  Seimiya’s cheeks flamed. “How dare you! My grandmother was attacked by Toda. Who else is there who wields those filthy beasts but the Aluhan?”

  Shunan frowned slightly. “Surely, my Lady, you must be aware that ever since the horsemen of Laza began attacking our eastern border, the demand for Toda has drastically increased, and there are now many among the Yojeh’s people who handle them.”

  Seimiya’s brows flew up. “And what of it? Are you saying that the Holon would scheme to assassinate their own Yojeh?”

  “Your Highness, Seimiya.” Shunan paused to take a deep breath and then continued. “What possible benefit could we gain by assassinating the Yojeh in such a contemptible manner?” Seimiya frowned, clearly puzzled by his question. “The foolish Sai Gamulu are one thing, but why on earth would we need to stoop to such measures? It never occurred to me that Your Majesty would fail to realize such an obvious truth.”

  Seimiya retorted sharply, “With the Yojeh dead, you would become the rulers, of course. What could be
of more benefit than that?”

  “If we killed the Yojeh, the Aluhan would be king? In that case, assassination makes no sense at all.” There was an edge of steel to his voice now. “I never dreamt you would misjudge us to that extent. If we ever decided that this land could not be entrusted to the rule of the Yojeh, we would have no need whatsoever to stoop to assassination. We could seize power openly. We have at our command a hundred Toda troops and ten thousand horsemen, all of which have protected this land for centuries from external enemies, repulsing repeated invasions. We possess the power to destroy you and take over this palace tomorrow, if we so desired.”

  Damiya gave a bark of laughter. “Well done. Now you are showing your true colors. My Lady Seimiya, I am sure you now understand all too well the true nature of the Aluhan. He intends to seize the throne by force.” Shaking his head, Damiya smiled at Shunan. “It is just as you say, Shunan. It would be so simple for you to kill us and usurp the throne. But by doing so, you will gain the throne of a country doomed to perish.

  “The Yojeh is a god. If you are so blind to the divine will revealed in the Yojeh that you take the throne by force, this land, bereft of its god, will perish.”

  Shunan fixed his eyes not on Damiya, but on Seimiya. After a long silence, he finally said quietly, “Do you also believe this, my Lady?”

  “Of course,” Seimiya responded immediately. “You mean you don’t?”

  Shunan shook his head curtly. “No, I don’t.” He rose. “I do not believe that the Yojeh are gods. How can anyone who is incapable of bringing happiness to this land possibly be a god?”

  Seimiya’s cheeks turned pale. Damiya leapt to his feet and opened his mouth to shout, but she silenced him with her hand. “Why do you say that I cannot bring happiness to this land?”

  “Let me ask you this, my Lady. How do you intend to heal the mortal illness that afflicts this land?”

  “It is the greed and ambition of your people that is the cause. I will heal it by refusing to be swayed by such contamination, by retaining a pure heart. It is true that I have no warriors to protect me. But if you use your military might to destroy me, this country will lose its soul. And at that moment, it will die. It will be you, not I, who destroy this country.”

  Shunan shook his head. “No warriors to protect you? Surely you cannot be serious. Who on earth do you think has been protecting you all this time? Not you as an individual, but this entire kingdom?” The anger in his eyes was unmistakable. “I wonder if you have the courage to look upon those who have defended this land.”

  “I am never, ever afraid,” Seimiya answered in a hard voice.

  Shunan nodded. “Then let us look. Come in!” he cried.

  The doors opened, and three men shuffled into the room. Seimiya caught her breath at the sight. They were young, not yet twenty. One was missing his right arm from the elbow down, another had lost his left leg at the thigh and walked instead on a wooden peg. The last one to enter was a boy who looked to be only fifteen or sixteen and had not even begun to grow a beard. A hideous burn, centered round his right eye, disfigured his otherwise smooth complexion, and there was only an empty socket where his eyeball should have been.

  Shunan placed his hand on each man’s shoulder in turn as he introduced them one by one.

  “This is Lahalu. The year before last, he lost his arm while fighting to protect a fort when the Laza attacked from Hosalu Pass. Yunan here fought in the same battle with the cavalry and was badly injured. The wound festered, and in the end, his leg had to be amputated from the thigh down. And this boy is Lokalu. His keen eyesight made him a great lookout, but a flaming arrow pierced his right eye while he stood on the lookout tower.”

  Shunan turned to face Seimiya. “Thousands of soldiers with devastating injuries like these live in this kingdom. Thousands more lie rotting beneath its cold earth. If they, and their fathers and mothers, their children and lovers, knew that you believed you have no warriors to protect you, I am sure they would rise up and demand to know what on earth their deaths, and the deaths of those they loved more dearly than life, were for.”

  Unable to breathe, Seimiya stared at the boy with the empty socket. He stared back at her with his one remaining eye, as if he could not believe he was really face to face with the Yojeh. His confusion was painfully evident. Was it right to feel awe in her presence? Was it safe to voice his doubt and anger? What feelings should he show her?

  Seimiya could not even begin to identify the emotions that welled up inside her. She did not even know if she should weep. All she wanted was to be alone. To be alone and think. The right words to say at this particular moment simply would not come.

  “Seimiya,” Shunan said, addressing her by name. “We have shed blood and tears for centuries to prevent this country from being laid waste by foreign powers. I am not seeking to romanticize our role or to demand your pity. But I simply cannot believe that it is right for one who does not know our reality to rule.” His voice was like the shadow cast through the window by the late afternoon sun. While regretting the dying of the day, he calmly announced the coming of the night.

  “If you insist that you are a god and that placing the Aluhan on the throne will lead to this country’s destruction, then prove it. Four months from now, on the day we celebrate the dawn of this country’s founding, let us determine who is right. On that day, we will wait for you on Tahai Azeh, the Plain of Advent, where our nation was born. We will wait for you with our finest Toda troops, the ones that you despise as ‘filthy’, but that I believe symbolize this country’s reality.

  “If the god truly blesses your actions and watches over you, the Toda will, just as legend recounts, be so awed by your divine majesty that they will bow their heads before you. If this miracle should occur, then my father and I will rein in our troops and once again serve as your vassals, shedding our blood without complaint…”

  He looked at her pale face, the one that had stayed imprinted on his heart all these years. Then he drew a deep breath and continued. “However, if such a miracle fails to occur, then, Seimiya, I ask that you, for the sake of your people, give yourself to me.”

  Seimiya’s eyes wavered. Shunan held her gaze as she stood speechless and dazed, then bowed his head slowly. “If you decide to accept my proposal, raise a blue flag. When we see that flag, the advancing Toda will halt before you.”

  Without asking her leave, he turned on his heel and, urging the young soldiers ahead, quietly left the room.

  2 THE NATURE OF BEASTS

  Flowers dotted the meadows of Kazalumu, and a light breeze carried their sweet fragrance along with the scent of grass. While Alu and Eku bathed in a small pond, Leelan munched on yellow keema blossoms some distance away. Keema cleansed the stomach of parasites, and Royal Beasts liked to gorge themselves while they were in bloom. The fact that Leelan did so without ever having been taught by her kind made Elin pause to wonder at the innate knowledge of living things. She was watching dreamily as Leelan snapped the flowers in her jaws when the Beast suddenly reared her head and, wrinkling her nose, began to growl.

  Surprised, Elin followed the direction of her gaze and saw three men on horseback swiftly ascending the gentle rise toward her. Behind them, she could see several teachers, one of whom she recognized as Esalu by her white hair. They were on foot, running after the horsemen, but the distance between them widened rapidly.

  Leelan’s growl turned menacing. Elin raised a hand to still her and walked toward the men. As they drew closer, she could see that they were all dressed as Beast Handlers. Although she knew none of them, one look at the crests sewn to their uniforms told her who they were.

  The first, who appeared to be the elder, dismounted, and the other two followed suit. They watched her warily, fingering their Silent Whistles. The leader looked down at her haughtily. “Greetings. I am Ohooli, Head of the Lazalu Beast Sanctuary.” He gave a polite bow, an act that contrasted starkly with the disdain in his eyes.

  Elin bowed in re
turn. “I am honored. How may I help you?”

  There was a pause before he replied. His jaw clenched and bulged, and his neck turned red. He reminded her of a fighting dog she had once seen in a market, restrained by its master yet trembling with the urge to bite.

  “I have come to escort you to Lazalu,” Ohooli said, as if forcing the words from his throat. “Her Highness, Yojeh Seimiya, has graciously deigned to convey this message. In honor of your distinguished services in saving the previous Yojeh, Her Highness has commanded us to welcome you as the Head of Lazalu Beast Sanctuary. You are to move yourself and the Beasts you have raised at once to Lazalu, in order to protect the palace.”

  Pain shot through Elin’s heart. From the moment she had heard of Yojeh Halumiya’s passing, she had feared that this day must come. Breathing with difficulty, she said, “Her Highness is far too gracious. I am afraid that I must decline.”

  The men’s faces remained unmoved. Clearly, they had been expecting this response. “We were told not to accept no for an answer,” Ohooli said coldly. “If you refuse to comply with this generous offer, our orders are to bring you back to the palace by force.”

  Before she could even open her mouth, the two men standing behind Ohooli moved swiftly to each side of her and grasped her arms.

  Ohooli’s mouth lifted in a mocking smile. “Your colleagues were far more agreeable than you.”

  The men gripped her arms with more force than necessary, but Elin had no intention of struggling. “What did you say to them?”

  “Just that we had come to carry out the Yojeh’s wishes.”

  He’s so vain, Elin thought. He must be furious with her for taking away his job. While he longed to ease the resentment smoldering in his heart by scoffing at her, he was afraid to show his feelings in case it jeopardized his future. Despite this, he could not resist making spiteful little jabs that spoilt his pretense of politeness. A cold, heavy lump sank in her stomach, and she let the tension drain out of her. She had lost any desire to even try to reason with him.