Pilgrimage of the Sacred and the Profane

by Hideyuki Kikuchi

  D didn’t respond.

  “See, I’ve got another theory,” Clay said, brushing off the dirt as he stood up. He’d been kneeling there listening to what Granny said. “For the time being, let’s just forget why this character might’ve been brought here. But the reason other travelers were robbed and killed is pretty obvious. It’s because whoever’s pulling the strings is greedy, of course! And so far as I know, there ain’t nobody with that kind of greed—nobody but humans.”

  “You know, you just might have a point there,” the old woman said matter-of-factly.

  But it was Lance himself that refuted the younger Bullow. “If you turn south from here,” the man said, “there’s a huge depression in the ground. Everything we stole is sitting in it, rotting or rusting.”

  Granny and Clay exchanged glances.

  “You mean to say someone just chucked it all?” the warrior asked incredulously.

  “I really can’t say, as I never actually saw it being thrown away. But every last thing we took went off to the dump after about a week.”

  “So, what did they do with the goods while they had them then?”

  Lance just shrugged at the old woman’s query.

  “At any rate, the first thing we gotta do is get the hell out of this hole in the wall,” Clay said, looking around at his companions. “Hey, old lady—get in your wagon. We’re getting out of here.”

  “It’s no use,” Lance said in a weary tone. “Hell, I tried a hundred times myself. But sometimes there’d be sandstorms, other times it was mirages of the sea. Oh, yeah—there were times I’d walk out and nothing at all would happen and I’d think to myself I was in the clear. And then there’d be this big damn mountain towering right in front of me.”

  “Well, this time it’s gonna work just fine,” Clay spat back. In his eyes, Lance must’ve been nothing more than a coward. “I hate to break it to you, but if we don’t get out of here, you ain’t either. According to what ‘pretty boy’ says, it seems we were brought here to take your place. Meaning, whoever controls this here desert don’t have any further use for you.”

  A look of incomparable horror shot across Lance’s face.

  “Those creeps didn’t come here to take you back earlier—I bet they came to kill you. Hell, we can leave you here and let them finish you off, if you like.” Watching with relish as Lance’s shoulders drooped, Clay then turned to D and said, “You’re coming, too, right?”

  “It’s no use.”

  Realizing that the Hunter’s frosty response was exactly the same as Lance’s, Clay got a gleam of light in his eyes—a vicious spark. “What do you mean it’s no use?”

  “Is your wagon still in one piece, Granny?” D asked.

  “Yeah, she’ll move somehow or other. Horses are fine, too. But I don’t think either could go through that again.”

  “If we get picked up by another tornado, her wagon will be ruined. Then we’ll be out of luck.”

  “Well, what do you suggest we do, then?” Clay asked, suddenly kicking at the ground. A few small stones vanished into the dark reaches of the cave. “Are we just gonna sit here with our thumbs up our asses? You planning on staying here for the rest our lives, eating nuts and berries like this chump?”

  “Do whatever you like,” D said, pulling away from the rock wall. It was probably his way of saying he’d handle things his own way. Silently, he moved to the cavern’s entrance.

  “Is something coming?” Granny asked, squinting her eyes.

  “Horses. Ten or so, with riders. His compatriots, no doubt.”

  “Came to shut him up, did they?” Granny replied, putting her right hand on her jar. “Hell, if there’s only a dozen or so, I can take care of ’em one-handed,” Granny quipped, but her words met only the empty space where D had been.

  “D,” Tae mumbled softly.

  .

  II

  .

  D stepped out into the light, although it was really only light in comparison to the cave. The sky, as always, was shrouded in clouds. At the entrance to the cave, the Hunter looked up at the sky. It was dim—so dim that it merely served to make D’s gorgeous countenance seem all the more radiant. He stood quietly, without moving. It was as if he was looking at something beyond the lead-gray sky. But what? Glistening green plains or bright tropical lands would surely mean nothing more to this young man than an arrangement of air and land and colors. What of life, then? Or death? Or fate? Darker than dark and colder than cold, his crystal-clear eyes reflected nothing save the dusty cloud that had twisted around the rocky crag.

  There were ten riders. They were the living dead, and a fair bit cleaner than Lance. Surely they’d come here because their earlier colleagues had failed to return. They didn’t look at the faces of the four men that Clay and D had dispatched. It appeared the false life the desert had given them once couldn’t be theirs a second time.

  The living dead formed a semi-circle in front of D. A man with a mustache took a half-step forward. For all intents and purposes, he appeared human. “You’re all going to be staying,” he said in an almost mechanical voice. A gunpowder pistol hung at his waist. The rounds it could hurl from its six tiny chambers would go right through a tree trunk. “If you give us the man, you have our guarantee you’ll be allowed to live here. You’d be wise to take us up on that,” the man said flatly, and then he waited.

  There was no reply. He was dealing with D, after all.

  “Then I guess we can’t avoid this, can we?” the man with the mustache said, raising his right hand.

  The air was filled with the sounds of gears meshing. All the men on horseback had cocked their guns.

  “You, in particular, interest us greatly,” he told the Hunter. “If at all possible, we’d like to avoid a confrontation.”

  Wind buffeted the man’s cheeks. And then laughter did the same. Not from D—that young man didn’t even know how to laugh. The voice came from the Hunter’s left hand, which he’d lowered naturally.

  A dangerous silence came over the world.

  The mustached man’s hand went for the grip of his gun. That was the signal. The row of men pulled their triggers. Or rather, they tried to. But a cloud of yellow sand spread before them like a wall.

  Weapons roared. There was the sound of the combustible gas in one tiny metal cylinder after another propelling wads of lead from the weapons’ barrels. Orange sparks flashed somewhere in the sandy cloud, and between them streaked a silvery gleam. What happened within that cloud of sand was anyone’s guess.

  The billowing curtain of sand suddenly dropped to the ground. And with it fell the horsemen. Only D remained standing.

  All of the other men had their heads split open and had turned to ash, but D didn’t even look at them as he walked over to the only one of them who appeared to have fallen to the ground unscathed—the man with the mustache. The blade the Hunter thrust smoothly under the man’s nose was not only free of blood, but of the faintest speck of dust as well.

  “The dead should stay that way,” D said softly. “How do we get out of this place?”

  “I don’t know,” the man replied, shaking his head. He was pale. His lack of color seemed to spring not so much from fear as from pain. With utter loathing, he added, “And I hope you all wind up like me. Used for the rest of your life by this desert—whatever the hell it really is—and brought back again when you’re dead . . . That’d be just perfect,” the bandit laughed.

  There was a smooth clink! D had just sheathed his longsword. At the same time, the man’s torso slipped off to the left. Sliced from the right armpit to the left hip, his body turned to dust and vanished before the two pieces could fully separate.

  “This is a fine mess you’ve made,” D’s left hand chortled. “I don’t think that Lance character knows the way out, either.” Surely not even the mummies could’ve imagined the curtain of sand that’d issued from that very same mouth.

  “And do you know?”

  “More or less. But I have
n’t been fed enough to know an exact direction when one might not even exist.”

  D turned right around. Four people stood at the entrance to the cave. Even Clay couldn’t hide the surprise that colored his ferocious countenance.

  “Ten of them . . . and in less than two seconds. You’re a goddamn monster . . .” the younger Bullow fairly groaned. “I wanna kill you more than ever now. With my own two hands.”

  “I’ll thank you to hold off on that until we’re across this desert,” Granny said in a strident tone. Turning to Lance, she said, “Well, that takes care of the mob that was after you. Now, relax and see if you can’t remember something better to tell us, okay? I’ll be damned if I’m gonna hang around here playing bandit.”

  Putting his hand to the brim of his hat, D looked over his shoulder. “Escape is possible,” he said.

  “What?” more than one person exclaimed as they opened their eyes wide with amazement.

  “But as long as we’re out in the desert,” he continued, “it’ll probably keep chasing us. Before we leave, we’d better settle this.”

  “And just how are we supposed to settle it?”

  “We wait.”

  And saying that, D went into the depths of the caves. The Hunter was hopelessly indifferent.

  Clay and Granny looked at each other.

  “I’m gonna take a peek outside,” Clay announced. “If I gotta stew in this hole all day, I’ll go nuts. If any strange characters start trouble, you’ll have to deal with it.”

  Before Granny could stop him, the man in the blue cap had vanished in the sunlight.

  “Dear me, if that man don’t have ants in his pants,” the old woman griped to herself. “Looks like we’re left with just the cool and composed one to rely on now. You really are our guardian angel, you know.”

  Their guardian angel was deep in the recesses of a hole in the rocks, shrouded in shadows.

  “So, what are you folks, anyway?” Lance said meekly. He rubbed his jaw incessantly, which seemed to be something of a habit with him. “I didn’t think you were ordinary travelers, but it’s like you’re all freaks or something. Where are you headed, and what’ll you do there?”

  “We’re pretty much just like you, you know. Relax. We’ll get you out of here safe and sound, sure as shooting.”

  “I sure hope so . . . but I don’t even know where the stuff they gave me to eat and drink came from. At this rate, I’ll waste away to nothing out here.”

  “But you were willing to take that chance when you ran away, weren’t you? I don’t wanna hear such nonsense from a grown man. If you hadn’t run into us, you’d have just grit your teeth and forged on, am I right?”

  Lance shut his mouth.

  “Well, if you’re hungry, there’s food over in my wagon. Come with me and I’ll get you something to eat.”

  The old woman stood up, and Lance left with her. Only Tae and D remained. D was behind a rock with his eyes closed. About fifteen feet lay between the Hunter and the girl.

  “Mrs. Viper just . . .” Tae began to say softly, her face still pointed toward the floor. Her tone was so weak it wouldn’t have been at all surprising if it didn’t even reach D. “She just left me here. I suppose she thought I’d be safe with you around . . . even though you’re the scariest of them all . . .”

  There was no reply. Even if Tae’s voice was audible, it only would’ve sounded like incoherent mumbling.

  “I never dreamed I’d be able to go home . . . I really thought I’d have to spend the rest of my life in that Noble’s castle.”

  “You remember the Noble’s name, don’t you?”

  When the darkness emitted these words, Tae trembled. It was quite some time before she managed to nod and reply, “Marquis Venessiger . . .”

  “Just him?”

  “Huh?” Tae cried out softly, turning in D’s direction. She could see only darkness.

  “Castle Gradinia had a special purpose. Was that the only Noble you met there?”

  Tae was silent. Seconds passed. And then, as if unable to bear the silence any longer, she said, “There was another . . . He was taller than the marquis, and more regal . . . I never saw his face, though . . .”

  “But his eyes were red. Blazing like rubies.”

  “Exactly,” Tae said, nodding in amazement. But it didn’t take long at all for her expression to become completely vacant. She was in the dark. And through that darkness so deep she could even feel the weight of it: two red things were coming closer. A pair of eyes.

  “What kind of eyes were they?” D asked, not inquiring at all what sort of man it was.

  “Bright red and piercing . . . Eyes that seemed to drink me up, body and soul . . . All they had to do was take one look at me . . . and then I couldn’t even think at all . . . Come to think of it . . .” Tae said in a strangely relaxed tone. “Come to think of it,” she repeated, “they were kind of like yours. I wonder why that is? Oh, I know now . . . Because they seemed so terribly sad . . .”

  “Did he do anything to you?” D asked, changing his tack unexpectedly.

  Tae was horribly shaken. “Not a thing . . . Nothing happened to me . . . I really just met him. Why would you ask me something like that? You’re a Hunter, aren’t you? Don’t ask me anything you don’t need to know.”

  “The one with the red eyes is a ruler.” The darkness didn’t move in the slightest, but smoldered behind the rocks. “The sun is setting on the Nobility’s influence over our world, and yet the gusts from their black wings still bear mystery into so many lives. Yours may be one of them. What did he do?”

  “Stop it!” Tae cried, covering her face as she got up. “Nothing happened to me at all. If anything did, I don’t remember it—so please don’t ask me such horrible questions.” Her tone sounded cold enough to freeze a stone.

  A tear glittered as it trickled down her cheek. Scattering those sparkling droplets to the wind, Tae raced from the cavern.

  A few minutes later, Granny Viper showed up in the cave. “D—you in here?” she called out.

  “Over here.”

  “You said something to the girl, didn’t you? She came running back to the wagon, bawling her eyes out, you know,” the old woman said in an uninflected tone.

  “And that bothers you?”

  “A little, I guess. After all, she’s valuable merchandise.”

  “You’ve been traveling with her a while. Have you noticed any-thing about her?”

  “Like what?” Granny asked, a fine thread of tension stitching through her flesh.

  “Any physical irregularities? Swings in her mental state?”

  “Sure, there’s some of that to a degree,” Granny replied, her tone already relaxed again. “But then, she’s a girl at an impressionable age who’s spent quite some time living with the Nobility, and now she’s on a long, long journey home. If there wasn’t anything weird about her, that in itself would be pretty weird. Look, I’m gonna be on my toes to see to it that nothing strange happens to her until I can hand her over to her family. And I’ll thank you to keep any funny remarks to yourself. You should be thinking of some way to get us out of this godforsaken land as soon as possible.”

  “The girl has to be brought home,” said a voice from the darkness. “Her family’s still around, I gather.”

  “Yeah. Her parents passed on not long after she was taken, but her brother and his wife have a farm.”

  “Alone she might’ve been okay, but the two of them are in for a hard life.”

  “Just what’s that supposed to mean?” Granny snapped, a heavy shade of dismay rising in her face.

  .

  Hearing a knock, Tae looked up. The forearms her face had been buried in were damp to the elbows. Quickly pawing at the corners of her eyes with the backs of her hands, Tae said, “Come in.”

  Expecting to see Granny Viper, the girl was actually a bit surprised by who opened her bedroom door. It was Lance. Scratching his head uneasily, he said, “Sorry to bother you. It’s just t
hat I heard crying . . .”

  “It’s nothing.”

  “Well, if you’re okay, then. I was just worried, is all. Well, see you.”

  “Don’t go,” Tae cried out reflexively.

  Lance didn’t know what to say. As he stopped there in spite of himself, his eyes caught Tae crumpling on the bed. “Hey!”

  “Don’t mind me. Just let me be.”

  “But you just—” Lance began hesitantly. “I can’t just stand idly by when a girl’s crying. At times like this you shouldn’t be alone. If you had someone to talk to, it’d be—”

  “I’m fine, so get out.”

  Like a razor through the conversation, her tone was so intense Lance finally grasped the situation. “I get it. I’m sorry.”

  As he slowly turned his back, Tae called out to him huskily, “Wait—” It sounded like her nose was stuffed. “I’m sorry. But I’d just like to be alone. Please.”

  “Okay. But keep your chin up,” Lance said, having nothing but a trite expression for this situation.

  “Sure,” Tae replied in the brightest tone she could manage.

  Donning a smile that suited his bony face, Lance took his leave.

  As the door closed, all the strength drained from Tae’s body. Her hands rested naturally on her abdomen. A heartrending sigh spilled from her. That sorrowful breath carried the girl’s curse on the universe. Her dainty shoulders trembled. Sobbing split her lips. There was little else she could do.

  Tae watched as a number of sparkling beads shattered in her lap. Even after those beads had become stains, her eyes didn’t move. They had a dangerous hue to them.

  Standing, she pulled a leather bag out from under her bed. Her pale hand was swallowed by it, and then came back out with something long and thin and shiny. She tugged on one end with her other hand and it came apart in two pieces—a short knife and a sheath. When her eyes were reflected in the tempered steel, a spark of urgency resided in them.