An Elegy of Heroes

by K. S. Villoso

“He’s from the Kag,” her father said before she could say anything.

  “No, he’s not,” the young girl commented. “He’s not a Kag.”

  “I’m from Gorent,” Kefier finally replied, hoping that would be enough to get them to leave him alone.

  But she came up to grab his hand and look at him closely. Discomfort flooded him. “How interesting!” she exclaimed. “Where are you going? Or are you going to stay in Fuyyu?”

  “I don’t know,” he admitted.

  “His friend is from Akki,” the girl’s father said.

  She clapped her hands. “A friend! A lover?”

  “Lala—”

  “She’s not a lover,” Kefier said.

  The girl’s eyes widened. “But you’re hoping it could be more, maybe. Have you met her yet?”

  “No.”

  “But you’ve talked. You must have. Who is she?”

  He didn’t know why, but he managed to murmur, “Sume Kaggawa,” before losing all of his courage. He had heard of giants among men who had gone against mountain beasts barehanded and come out alive. He didn’t know how true those stories were. The mercenaries, quick to spot naiveté, had always made things taller than they were, if they were at all, those nights when they used to sit by a fire in the middle of the wilderness, with nothing but the flames and their voices in the piercing darkness.

  Staring at this girl now, whose eyes had widened at the sound of the name, he would have given anything to have even a fraction of that courage that had driven those men, fictional or not. It didn’t help that he couldn’t close his eyes and force his way through this, the way he did when he was in the middle of a battle, and they would call him brave and reckless. But bravery was one thing, and his was only fuelled by fear and a desire to end things as quickly as he could.

  “It’s Sume, Papa,” the girl said, turning to her father. “He’s going to visit Sume!”

  “I heard,” the man replied. “You’re in luck, then! We’re neighbours in Akki. But that must mean, if you’re from the Kag—then you must be her brother Oji’s friend!”

  “The Gorenten from her letters!” The girl was beaming. “She’s told me so much about you! Is it true? Did Brother Oji really find in the mage-lands in Dageis? She said you once told her—”

  The fear won. He fled before they could say anything more.

  Chapter Five

  Calm winds brought a steady stream of ships safely to shore. At the wake of dawn, workers stood on the docks, unloading goods for further transport or sale at the marketplace. The scents of fish, sweat, and spices were ripe in the air. A man stood with his white buttocks exposed, mounting a prostitute against a wall.

  Up north, where the dirty harbour ended, devout followers lined up to pray at the temple of Sakku. A priestess stood at the entrance, holding up a large sack for the obligatory donation of twenty aekich, which was a number greatly preferred by the sea-dragon goddess, or so it was suggested by the holy texts of Kibouri. Nobody seemed to notice or care that she dipped her hand in the bag once in a while and back into her own pocket. Priestesses of Sakku were not to be questioned, having gone through sacred rituals to become holy servants of the goddess; those that failed were often put to death, thrown into the open sea as a sacrifice. The healthy population of fishes at such sites was a testament to the goddess’ powers.

  A young man with a fuzzy moustache stood outside the gates to the temple, crying, “News from Shirrokaru! News from the Dragonlord’s nest!” and clearly enjoying the attention. He held a piece of parchment with the Fuyyu governor’s seal in his hands.

  “News from the Dragonlord’s nails, you mean,” the seamstress Errena scoffed as they left the vicinity of the temple and entered the long, dark alley that led to the Kag marketplace. “Do they take us for fools? We’ve not seen Rysaran since I was a little girl. Sume, make sure you have your coin with you before you go in. I’ve heard rumours about what these Kag witches will do if you don’t pay them.”

  Sume patted her pocket and smiled. “I’ve got it right here. What else should I do, Ren? Do I need to turn around three times and stamp my foot while praying to the frog-god to watch my eternal soul?”

  Errena frowned. “Now you’re just making fun of me.”

  “No, Ren, I appreciate your concern. Really, I do.” She touched Ren’s arm and smiled. “This won’t be long.” She lifted the star-patterned curtain and ducked under the low doorway.

  The first thing that hit her was the smell of the perfume, which reminded her of jasmine, cinnamon, and smoke combined. The Kag at the far end of the room was a woman. She was dark-skinned, with black hair and eyelids that slanted like a Jin’s. Her eyes were purple, with a hint of red around the edges. It was probably an enchantment. She looked at Sume and pointed at the pool of water permanently etched on the floor.

  “Hana Kaggawa in Akki,” Sume stammered, uncertain. The woman clicked her tongue and handed her a small envelope. Sume looked at it and then remembered that she had to put a piece of Hana’s hair inside. She clumsily reached into her pocket, nearly spilling her coins, and managed to stuff a few strands before sealing the envelope. She dropped it over the middle of the pool and watched as it sank underneath two floating candles.

  “So you asked,” the woman said at last. Her voice was raspy. Sume could smell her breath from where she stood. She began to weave her fingers through the air. The candles flickered.

  “What’s this?” a voice called from deep inside the pool.

  Sume clapped her hands and leaned over the stone fencing that marked the edge. “It’s me, sister! Sume! I found someone to contact you.”

  “A Kag?” Hana’s face appeared in the pool’s reflection. It was frowning. “Didn’t I tell you not to mess with this foreign witchery? I swear, Sume, when I get my hands on you, I’ll—!”

  “Don’t get mad, Hana. I only did it because I miss you all. See—don’t twist your face like that. You’ll be old before your time.”

  “I already am, no thanks to you.” Hana shook her head. “How are you over there? Those seamstresses treating you all right?”

  “They’re wonderful, Hana. Errena, you know, is waiting outside for me right now. How’s Dai, Hana? Is he off somewhere no good again?” She couldn’t help but smile, even before she heard Hana’s irritated reply.

  “That boy ran out on me, as usual. I told him specifically to be here by sundown and it’s been an hour since. I’m told that the neighbours down the road will be slaughtering a goat. No doubt he and his friends think that’s fine entertainment.”

  “You said yourself, Hana! A boy! What do you expect? I remember Oji…” She ran a hand over her eyes and was silent for a moment. Her brother Oji had not written for many months. It was partly why she had gone to Fuyyu to work in the first place—to see if she could at least send word out to the Kag where he worked as a mercenary. The other reason was quite simply that, without Oji’s earnings, they had been running out of money, too. “How’s father?”

  “What do you want me to tell you, Sume?” She sounded exhausted. “You leaving won’t make him change overnight. I gave him some money from the coin you sent so he didn’t have to go asking me every afternoon. Spent it all on one night if you can believe it. I found him face-down in the pig trough the next morning.”

  “He’s all right?”

  “Oh dear, I wouldn’t tell you all this if he weren’t. Still, I’m afraid one of these days they’ll find him drowned in the docks or a bucket of piss. I’ve asked the neighbours to keep an eye on him. Right now he’s over at Bora’s, helping him build a crib for the new baby they’re about to have over there. That should keep him out of trouble for a few days.”

  “You’ve got thirty seconds to finish your affairs or pay double,” the Kag broke in.

  Sume sighed. “I’ll talk to you again when I have money next time, Hana.”

  “Don’t! I know Father got this mirror, but I don’t want you getting involved in this Kag business. What if the guards c
atch you? Send me a letter next time.” Her eyes softened. “I miss you, sister.”

  “I miss you too. Give my kisses to Father and Dai.”

  The Kag waved. The pool rippled with her movement and Hana’s face disappeared from the surface. Sume pulled the coins from the purse and dropped them, one by one, on the table in the corner. The Kag stared at her, unblinking.

  Errena was waiting for her with a cloak when she left the room. “What was it like?” she immediately asked. “I heard you talking, but that was it.”

  “It’s like she was in front of me, Ren,” Sume replied, smiling. “I feel light-headed, though. It must be the scents the Kag was using.”

  “Let’s get out of here before the guards catch wind of us. Dear Sakku—I still can’t believe I actually took you all the way out here.” She sounded excited. “Do you mean that you actually have one of these enchanted objects in your home? Where did you get it?”

  “A Kag gifted it to my father a long time ago, when he was a merchant.” Sume glanced out into the night and shivered slightly. “He had told the man how lonely he was, missing us out there in foreign lands, and he told my father how to use it. You leave it at home and then a witch skilled in that sort of sorcery could find—I don’t know, he used the words sniff out, I think? But this is the first time we ever used it. You see, that was the last time my father went out to sea. He lost much of his business after a Kag cheated him and then...” She threw her hands up and laughed.

  Errena shook her head. “I don’t know how you can be so comfortable around this whole business, Sume. The weatherworking of the priestesses is one thing, but I’ve heard that in the Kag they have these rituals, like using human blood and slaughtering children. Don’t you know they breed with animals over there? They have cat-people walking around the woods and Sakku knows what else.”

  “Oh Errena, you read too many dime novels. The ka-eng and the kusyani are different tribes.”

  Errena shuddered. “I don’t care. I’d hate to see the day they let those over the border. I think I’ll scream.” She hooked her arm around Sume’s and pointed. “I see that town crier again. He is a comely young man, don’t you think, Sume? You should meet him. At your age, you don’t get nearly enough callers. It’s no fun being an old maid. I should know.”

  “Good evening, ladies,” the town crier said, dipping his head at them and brandishing a smile. “Is it not too late for such lovely women to be out and about at this hour?”

  “We were just browsing the Kag market,” Errena said without batting an eye. “Any important news from the royal cities? Not that it makes a difference to us,” she added, giving Sume a knowing glance.

  The young man tugged at his collar and smiled at them. “Well. News has it that Rysaran is holding a ball, inviting all of the most prestigious names in—hey, you!” A dark-skinned Kag limping by froze at the sound of his voice. The town crier stomped towards him. “Yes, I’m talking to you. What are you doing here? You need to stay on your side of the city.”

  The Kag glanced up, blinking underneath his tangled mass of copper-brown hair. “I’m sorry?” he asked in deeply accented Jinan.

  “You heard me,” the town crier said. He stopped and pushed him. The Kag was thin and easily toppled backwards. “Those statues there, you see? That marks the Kag side of town. You’re not supposed to be here.”

  “Your country opened trade to the Kag years ago. There’s no such thing as a side anywhere.”

  “I don’t know if you know after so long mingling with this weak-bellied Fuyyu folk, but what the royals say and what they think is different. When you’re in front of a royal, bred and born, you kneel!” He lifted his fist.

  The Kag held out his hands. “All right,” he said. Sume noticed that it wasn’t just his accent that made his Jinan strange—the way he rolled the words wasn’t the way they spoke in Fuyyu. He limped back the way he’d come from. The town crier spit on the ground and kicked dirt into the air.

  On the way back to the seamstresses’ apartment, Sume found she couldn’t get the Kag out of her head. The dirt on his frayed clothes and his ragged beard...what did someone have to do to get into such a state? Akki was a small town and so even a man like her father, who drank and gambled his nights away, always had a family to clean up after him. Even if he didn’t have a family, the neighbours usually tried, too. Fuyyu was such a big place, full of people, but not for the first time, she felt a pang of loneliness. If she was home right now at this hour she could be kneeling in front of a candle with Hana and Dai, listening to the crickets outside the window. Or she could be next door, singing with Bora’s wife and her sisters while Dai tried to catch fireflies out on the street.

  She was still thinking of her family up into the next day when they paid the temple a visit. Here, row upon row of people sat cross-legged on the polished wooden floor, offering obeisance to the sea-god. A young boy, head shaved and tattooed, carried incense past them. He reminded her of Dai, right up to the scowl that seemed permanently etched on his face. She had always wondered about that; his father, in contrast, smiled even on occasions that didn’t warrant it. He had even smiled at a funeral, once—an incident not easily forgotten in the collective memories of Akki folk.

  The bell rang from the altar. She closed her eyes and pressed her forehead against the floor.

  It was very hard to repeat a prayer that had gone unanswered for far too many years. Sume mouthed the familiar words and felt her heart leap. She struggled to control the tears—she couldn’t risk crying in front of the seamstresses, who were often incapable of stopping themselves from asking questions. Sea-god, she mouthed. Watch my family as you travel on your celestial path. Mark their spirits with your blessings.

  “And find my brother Oji for me,” she added, whispering.

  She felt a hand on her shoulder, telling her their time was up. They left the temple. Saina paused long enough to buy each of them a small necklace with a polished sea-pebble as a pendant from one of the vendors.

  “When Sakku made the seas—” the vendor began.

  “The dancing’s about to start!” Errena exclaimed, grabbing Sume by the waist and spinning her around. “We’ll find you a beau, Sume. Or two. Or three!”

  “Your head is full of dreams, you old hag,” Adara said.

  “Well, Sume is young, and pretty enough.”

  “Enough?” Sume coughed. For the first time that morning, she laughed aloud.

  The dances were held in the empty square in front of the governor’s mansion, and right next to the marketplace. Sume did not know the steps, but a graceful young man by the name of Tetsung took her hand and willingly showed her. One, two, three, turn. Pivot, pivot, step back. She found the rhythm much like a dance she knew back home and took to it like a fish to water.

  “My father brings in our grain every year just for this day,” Tetsung said, after they had thoroughly exhausted themselves. “This is my first time here.”

  “But you dance so well!”

  “You really think so?” He gave a bashful grin. “My brother taught me the steps. It was embarrassing, but he told me it would be worth it. And he’s right!”

  “How long are you staying in the city?”

  “Two days. What a pity. I would love to see more of it.” He glanced up at her and then, out of impulse, touched her cheek.

  She burned red hot and started looking for her companions. There was no sign of them. The last time she had seen Errena, she was dancing with her own partner, and Adara and Saina had made themselves scarce. She looked back at the smooth-faced young man beside her and smiled. “Can you walk me home?”

  “Already?”

  “I’d like to get some work done while there’s still daylight.” It was partly true. She got paid for every shirt she finished, and her family needed the money back home. But the hopeful look on Tetsung’s face made her hesitate. “You’ve two days in the city. Maybe you can visit me.”

  That seemed to cheer him up. Hand-in-hand, th
ey left the square.

  The street where Sume lived was wide enough for only two people to pass through, and barely even. Clotheslines and dirty laundry blocked the view of the sky. It was vastly different from the clean, almost pristine view from the square, and Tetsung seemed perplexed. When a man collapsed in front of them, he jumped and pushed Sume behind him.

  “He looks dangerous,” he gasped.

  “He looks dead.” Sume pulled away and recognized their neighbour, the local drunk. Was she still thinking of that Kag from last night? What was it about his gaze that cut so deep?

  “Thank you, Tetsung,” she said when they reached the door. As an afterthought, she kissed his cheek. It was only polite, but he left with a smile that took over his face.

  She returned upstairs. She found Adara in one of the work-rooms on the second floor, bent over a pile of shirts. The woman glanced up at her and nodded in greeting. She smiled back and knelt down to join her.

  “Have you heard from your brother yet?” Adara asked while they worked.

  Sume looked up and sighed. “I haven’t received anything from the place where he usually stays at, either.”

  “I tell you what, the letters probably got stuck somewhere. There’s too much happening around us for my liking. The prince gone all these years, and that war way north—Sakku knows. I won’t be surprised if they just dump letters in the river straight from the post.”

  “I guess so,” Sume whispered. “But it’s been so long.” She glanced down at her needlework and saw damp spots in the fabric. Stubbornly, she scraped away at them, but more tears fell.

  “He’ll turn up, just wait and see. Why, my father once disappeared for two years and I almost wish he didn’t show up again, but what can you do? It happens when they’re broke, girl—can’t send money, womenfolk and babes crying for food. Men don’t like to admit failure like that.”

  Sume nodded. She couldn’t bring herself to tell Adara that her brother wrote almost every month since he’d left, when she was no more than a child and they forced her tiny hands off his shirt so he could board the ship. Hello, little dove, his first letter had said, the paper covered with inky thumbprints. Hana had read it by candlelight in the dark. I think this place will drive me crazy. The men are very loud and I have a rat for a bed-mate. And then later, at the end, I am so sorry that I had to leave, little one…