The Beast Warrior

by Nahoko Uehashi

  “They ain’t rulers,” he said as if to himself. He flicked his eyes to Elin. “You told me once you wanted to return ’em to the wild. I’m guessin’ that ain’t gonna work. They got no fangs. Fangs for chewin’ up their prey. Ain’t no way Beasts used to livin’ like this could defend their territory ’gainst Royal Beasts in the wild.”

  Elin looked at Leelan and the others. “You’re probably right. For them, this is the wild.”

  Olamu opened his mouth as if to speak, but instead raised a hand and turned his back on her.

  “Thank you,” Elin called after him. He raised his hand again without looking back. Elin bowed deeply as the elderly hunter strode away.

  5

  LEAF EMBLEM

  Kazalumu School, which had many students, attracted a stream of peddlers that came each day to sell their wares. Some sold fish caught fresh that morning in the nearby river; others sold fabric to make clothes and bedding. The early afternoon, when the students sat quietly at their desks studying, was a busy but enjoyable time of day for the dorm mother, Kalisa, and her assistants as they examined the wares and decided what to buy.

  Since she had begun living in Kazalumu, Elin also bought everything she needed from the peddlers. Often, however, she was too busy to shop and cook for herself, and she would pay Kalisa a little extra to bring her the same meals she cooked for the students.

  On a day when clear spring sunlight flooded the pasture, Elin picked up her shopping basket for the first time in a long while and headed behind the school. From the spring of the previous year, she had spent most of her time settling Alu and Ukalu in a spot far from Leelan and the others, and the lighthearted voices of Kalisa and the other women haggling with the merchants made her heart sing.

  Kalisa’s plump face broke into a broad smile at the sight of her. “Mistress Elin!” she called out. Although she had aged a great deal since Elin first arrived at the school as a student, she still tackled her duties as dorm mother with the same enthusiasm. Elin recalled how kind she had been to her and Yuyan. When they had come back drenched from playing in the river, she had stripped them down and doused them in hot water from head to toe. Elin felt awkward to be called mistress by her former dorm mother, but Kalisa ignored her pleas to stop.

  Elin walked over and gently touched her elbow. “Thank you so much for bringing me meals for the past ten days.”

  Kalisa laughed and waved her hand. “You’ve nothing to thank me for. Such an easy task! Have things calmed down a bit, then?”

  “Yes, finally! Alu and Ukalu have gotten used to their new home.”

  The women were gathered around a vendor selling red-haired crabs taken from Kazalumu River.

  “Those look delicious,” Elin exclaimed. “So it’s red-haired crab season, is it?”

  Kalisa pushed her way through the group of women, and, grasping a gleaming crab fat with eggs, handed it to Elin. “Red-haired crabs come into season just as the other crabs disappear. Eat well, Elin, and put some meat back on your bones.”

  “Thank you.” Elin took the crab in her hands. Looking at its big red claws, she broke into a smile. “I always think of Yuyan whenever I see these,” she said.

  “Me too,” Kalisa said with a chuckle.

  When Elin was a student, one of her classmates who had never seen a crab before wanted to take one home to show his family. After the meal, he had taken an empty crab shell, limbs and all, washed it carefully, and reassembled it so neatly that it looked real. He glued it together with nyukilu, a kind of glue that didn’t melt when heated. Yuyan had discovered it and, delighted to find a leftover crab, boiled it up again. When the other students, including Elin, noticed, they spied on her to see what she would do. Eyes shining with anticipation, Yuyan had taken a pair of scissors and cut off one of the legs. Seeing that it was empty, she had exclaimed, “Darn! This crab has shed its skin!” The incident was a standing joke among her friends for years afterward.

  “Yes, she was quite a character, wasn’t she?” Kalisa said. “She made me laugh so much. Thanks to her, you weren’t lonely either.”

  “That’s for sure.”

  Kalisa’s face suddenly grew serious. “That reminds me! I was just waiting until the next time I saw you to tell you something. Did you realize that Jesse doesn’t have the leaf emblem embroidered on his belt?”

  “Emblem?” Crab still in hand, Elin wrinkled her brow. “Oh no!” she exclaimed.

  The women and the merchants all looked up to see what the fuss was about. Elin flushed and waved her hand, crab and all, trying to let them know that everything was fine. “I completely forgot,” she said to Kalisa. “He’s in the middle level now, isn’t he?”

  When students successfully completed their first year at Kazalumu, their parents embroidered an unfurling leaf on their school belts during the summer holidays. The emblem expressed their parents’ hopes that their budding talents would continue to unfold in the coming year. Most parents splurged on gold thread, so the emblem was also called the golden leaf. The number of golden leaves on a student’s belt showed what level he or she was in.

  Elin clapped a hand to her forehead. Poor Jesse. How could she have done this to him? She may have been preoccupied with the Royal Beasts, but to have forgotten the emblem for a whole six months. She couldn’t believe it.

  Kalisa patted her on the shoulder. “Don’t worry. Jesse may be a rascal sometimes, but he’s very considerate, you know. When his friends teased him about it, he told them that taking care of the Royal Beasts is a lot of work and he certainly wasn’t going to bother you by asking you to embroider his belt. That shut them up.”

  But her words only made Elin feel worse. Crestfallen, she asked, “Do you have any gold thread?”

  Kalisa shook her head. “Sorry. I just ran out. The thread merchant won’t be back for quite a while, but there’s no need to hurry at this point, is there?”

  Elin rested her chin against the crab in her hand, then gave a crooked grin. “I’m taking a half day off tomorrow. I’ll ask the headmistress if I can take Jesse to town with me.”

  Kalisa’s face crinkled in a smile. “That’s a good idea. Jesse will be thrilled. And it’ll be good to spend some time together. For both of you. Go and enjoy yourself.”

  * * *

  Jesse grumbled that he’d promised to play ozaggu, a ballgame, with his friends that afternoon and that it was embarrassing to go to town with his mother, but his steps were light as he walked beside her.

  “Well, I guess this means you’ve finally realized your duty as a mother, doesn’t it? I suppose that at least is a good thing,” he said, nodding to himself.

  Elin flicked him a glance. “Jesse, do you talk to your friends like that? Don’t they hate you for being so cheeky?”

  Jesse laughed through his nose. “Are you kidding? Cheeky kids who don’t back down get a lot of respect. Sometimes the older kids give me a whack, but I don’t care. Never mind that. If you’re going to embroider a leaf for me, make it a worm-eaten one, will you?”

  Elin’s mouth twitched in a wry smile.

  “What’s funny about that?” said Jesse.

  “Is that still a fad?” Elin asked.

  Jesse looked puzzled. “Still? It was our level that started it. The older ones never did that. Chikki told us before he went home for the summer that he was going to get his with holes in it, so we all decided to get ours done that way, too.”

  Elin’s eyebrows rose. “Really? Amazing. That means that children come up with the same idea in every generation. When I was a student, it was Kashugan. You know, Auntie Yuyan’s husband.”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “When he came back with a worm-eaten leaf, all the other boys copied him.”

  Jesse looked surprised. “Really? So somewhere there’ll always be a kid like Chikki, then.”

  His face sobered. “That feels kind of funny, doesn’t it? I wonder if people will just continue on like this forever. One of them will get the idea and then everyone else
will copy them, thinking they’re the first to have a worm-eaten leaf.”

  Elin smiled. “Maybe. It’s certainly possible.”

  The small thread shop sold more than thread. It was crammed with bags embroidered with various designs and bolts of cloth. Spools of neatly wound embroidery thread gleamed in the sun that slanted through the window.

  “Excuse me,” Elin called out, and a woman who had been sipping tea in the back looked up. Her eyes widened.

  “Elin! I haven’t seen you for ages! Come in!” Wiping her hands on her hips, she slipped her feet into a pair of sandals and came closer, staring intently at Elin and Jesse.

  “And are you Jesse? My, how you’ve grown!”

  “It has been a long time, hasn’t it, Yuji? You haven’t changed a bit,” Elin said.

  Yuji waved her plump hands. “Oh, but I have. I’ve gained weight, and my back hurts.”

  The smell of thread and the sound of Yuji’s chatter brought back another life. Elin had come here often when she lived in town. In those days, there had been time for her to sew clothes for Ialu and Jesse and to embroider little designs on things like the curtains.

  After sharing her aches and pains, Yuji suddenly asked, “But what can I do for you today? What do you need?”

  “I’d like to buy some gold thread. Do you have any from Chikala?”

  “Chikala! You’re really splurging, aren’t you! Yes, I’ve got some. Just wait a moment.”

  Gold thread was expensive, so she probably kept it under lock and key, Elin thought.

  Watching the woman disappear into the back of the shop, Jesse whispered, “Chikala?”

  “That’s a town in Aluhan territory. It’s famous for making gold foil. Thread made with gold foil from Chikala is really high quality.”

  “Oh! Now I remember! I heard that name a long time ago, when father was talking to some huge guy.”

  Elin looked at him in surprise. “A big man? You mean Jinji? Do you really remember that? You were only about six or seven!”

  Ialu had received an order for an expensive cabinet. He had asked Jinji, a lacquer craftsman, to do the decorative inlay. Jinji was a good man, and he and Ialu had hit it off. He had often come to their house to work on the cabinet and had shared stories of his trade, including gold foil, over meals together. But that was a long time ago. Jesse had been small enough to fit snuggly between Ialu’s knees when he sat cross-legged.

  Jesse stuck his nose in the air and said, “Pretty good memory, huh? I just might be a genius, you know.”

  Elin sighed. “Honestly, Jesse!”

  At that moment, Yuji returned bearing a white box. “Here it is. Gold thread from Chikala. It’s really wonderful stuff, and long-lasting, too. But it’s expensive.” She held it to the sun, and the light slid along the glossy surface. “See? Lovely, isn’t it?”

  “Yes. Can I have two?”

  Yuji’s eyebrows shot up. “Two!”

  Elin smiled, looking a little embarrassed. “It’s extravagant, I know, but I hardly ever make it into town.”

  “You need it for embroidery?”

  “Yes. For Jesse’s belt. I’ll need to embroider a new leaf on it every year.” She placed a hand on her son’s shoulder and said with a laugh, “If I keep some around, I won’t forget to do it next year, or the year after.”

  Jesse nodded. “Good idea,” he said sagely. “Why don’t you leave some hanging from the drawer, too? And while you’re at it, paste a sign on the drawer saying ‘For Jesse’ in big letters. Then you’ll remember for sure.”

  Elin gave him a playful slap on the head.

  When they stepped outside, a breeze caressed their cheeks. Although spring was still young, it was a fine day. The rustling leaves on the trees lining both sides of the main street made the sunlight dance, and the sky above was a hazy blue.

  Looking up, Jesse said, “It’s strange, isn’t it? The color of the sky looks different in spring than it does in summer or fall, even though it’s the same sky.”

  “You’re right,” Elin said, looking at his face as he squinted into the brightness. His resemblance to Ialu was startling. As they strolled through the soft sunshine, she wondered when he had begun to look so grown up.

  6

  SEIMIYA’S VISIT

  On a clear spring day when sasha petals drifted on the breeze, the Yojeh came to Kazalumu. Unlike when her grandmother Halumiya had come, everything about Seimiya’s visit was kept secret. She had sent a letter announcing that she wished to be trained in the Handler’s Art now that her youngest daughter was five, and Elin had been frantically preparing ever since.

  Five years had passed since the Yojeh had agreed to train with Elin. During that time, a building had been erected behind the school where she could stay for extended periods when she was ready to start. Now that the time had finally come, Elin and Esalu had to meet with many different people to make sure her stay was as comfortable as possible and that she came to no harm. By the time they finished, they were completely exhausted and felt not awe but instead immense relief when the Yojeh’s carriage and cavalry troop came into view.

  There was no welcoming ceremony. As the Yojeh didn’t want her presence to make the students nervous, she had asked the school to suspend classes. Summer vacation had been moved ahead of schedule, and all the students had been sent home the day before.

  Wide-eyed, Jesse leaned forward, craning his neck to see the horses prance through the gate, their heads adorned with beautiful plumes. Their cloth headdresses were stitched with gold thread that glinted and shimmered with each step. Led by these beautiful steeds, a brilliant white carriage rolled into the grounds and came to a stop before the school. Servants leaped forward to spread a carpet under the step. Several soldiers dismounted and moved with quick precision to stand guard around the carriage.

  Jesse grabbed his mother’s hand. “Are those Se Zan?” he whispered. His mother nodded. “Did Dad look like that when you first met him?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you think he was good-looking?”

  His mother smiled as though embarrassed. Looking at the Se Zan, whose eyes scanned and assessed the people gathered there, she whispered, “He reminded me of a forest in midwinter.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Jesse said. But his mother just smiled without answering.

  Even before Jesse had asked her that question, the sight of the Se Zan had taken Elin back to a day long ago. Although Ialu had been just one of several Se Zan, he had made a deep impression on her from the very first day. People’s hearts are strange, she thought. They hadn’t even spoken to each other, so why had his image remained so firmly imprinted on her mind?

  The sound of the carriage door pulled her back to the present. A servant reached up to steady Seimiya as she slowly alighted from the carriage. The sunlight caught in her hair and glinted off the gold thread in her robe.

  Leaving Jesse’s side, Elin walked forward with Esalu and dropped to one knee before her.

  “Please raise your heads,” Seimiya said. Her tone was gentle, but Elin sensed a ring of excitement in it. Her cheeks were flushed, and she looked far healthier than when they had last met.

  “I finally made it! What a beautiful place Kazalumu is.” Gazing around at the wide green pasture carpeted with tiny flowers, she took a deep breath. “As we drew near, I saw little birds diving from the sky, almost as if they were somersaulting. I suppose their nests must be in the grass.”

  Elin smiled. “I believe what you saw were topi, a type of skylark. They do make their nests in the grass, but those nests are not located in the spot where they dive to the ground.”

  “No? Why is that?”

  “They land a little distance away so that their nest won’t be discovered by predators. They walk back to it once they land.”

  Seimiya’s face clouded for a moment. “So they flew like that to protect their nest? And I thought they were flying just for the joy of it.” She shifted her eyes to Elin. “You’ve spent
your life studying the ways of living creatures like the topi. For the next month, please teach me well.”

  Elin bowed and said quietly, “It will be my pleasure, Your Majesty.”

  * * *

  Morning mist drifted across the field where Elin stood with the Yojeh. For some time now, Jesse had been crouched behind a tree watching them. He had been doing so every day, observing everything his mother did since she had begun teaching the Yojeh.

  The Se Zan were scattered through the forest, beyond the reach of his ears and invisible to his eyes. In the beginning, they would appear out of nowhere and glower at him, as if to say, “We know you’re here.” Now, however, they let him be. He wasn’t interfering in any way so they had probably assumed he just wanted to be near his mother.

  But that wasn’t why he had come. Or at least, it wasn’t the only reason. He was driven here by his longing to learn the Handler’s Art. The Se Zan probably thought he couldn’t hear what his mother and the Yojeh were saying from this distance, but in fact, he could hear quite a bit. He’d been watching his mother for so many years that he knew how voices carried. Obstacles could block sound just like they blocked objects, and voices wouldn’t reach him when people spoke with their backs turned either. But when he stayed downwind like this, the wind carried sounds and voices to him with surprising clarity.

  Besides, people said a lot with their eyes and body movements, not just with their voices. The Royal Beasts were the same. Having watched his mother interact with them since he was a child, he knew instinctively how she and the Beasts communicated. So even when he couldn’t hear their voices, he could guess pretty accurately what his mother was saying. He could also tell from her explanations to the Yojeh whether he’d guessed right. This whole detective process was so exciting that he couldn’t stop himself from coming to watch.

  His mother had started with the habits and character of Royal Beasts, teaching the Yojeh step by step. Only recently had she begun showing her how Leelan and the others responded to the harp. The Yojeh plucked notes on it eagerly, but although Leelan and Eku listened intently, they didn’t respond the way they did when Elin played the same notes. The Yojeh seemed discouraged. “Perhaps I have no talent,” she said with a sigh.