“Ah…” Understanding lit the faces of the others. Such saddles were common in areas with harsh winters. Made of a large piece of cowhide that wrapped around the horse’s flanks and was secured with a strap under the belly, they resembled a quilt, which was where the name came from.
“That’d be easier to fit on the back of a Royal Beast. We just need longer cinch straps to fasten it with. We’ll need to figure out how to attach reins to the cinch, too, though the Beast might not fancy that. It won’t do for the girl to fall off, either, so let’s try fixin’ metal rings to her belt and the saddle to hold a good strong lifeline. That’ll make it easy to fasten and unfasten.” The gleam in his eyes made it clear that he loved his craft. “Now who’d have thought that one day we’d be makin’ a saddle for a Royal Beast?”
The result was a very sturdy and well-crafted saddle. The only drawback was its weight. While that would be no problem for Leelan, Elin was the only person who could approach her without using a Silent Whistle, and this meant that she would have to saddle the Beast by herself.
“You sure you can hoist that thing?” The chief custodian’s brow furrowed at the sight of Elin balancing the saddle on one shoulder.
“Yes, I’ll be fine.” In reality, she was doubting whether she would be able to lift it onto Leelan’s back, but there was no time to fix it. She would just have to make do.
Leelan raised her head as Elin drew near and watched her with interest. “What?” she asked.
Elin let her sniff the saddle until she was satisfied and then explained what it was for. She wondered if Leelan could understand the complex explanation, but when she told her to bend down so that she could put the saddle on her back, Leelan turned about and crouched down without question.
It made Elin feel strange every time Leelan responded like this, but she shook her head to chase the thought away. Placing the saddle on her knees, she swung it up and spread it over Leelan’s back. Leelan craned her neck around at the sudden weight of it, and Elin ducked under her belly and fastened the two straps securely.
“I’m going to climb up, so don’t move,” Elin said. She shimmied up Leelan’s back, settled herself onto the saddle, and thrust her toes into the stirrups. The chief custodian had fitted them perfectly to her feet. She felt much more secure sitting in a saddle. She grasped the end of the short lifeline and clipped it on to a metal ring on her own belt. Then she took the reins, which were attached to the cinch crossing Leelan’s chest, and wrapped them around each hand.
“Fly!” she shouted. Before she had time to catch her breath, Leelan had kicked the earth beneath them and launched herself into the sky. Elin’s head whipped back, making her dizzy. The wind pressed against her chest and pushed her backwards. Hastily, she pulled herself forward to nestle against Leelan’s back, just as she had done on their first flight. The wind roared in her ears and her hair tangled, but with the stirrups, reins and lifeline, she felt very safe.
Finding an updraft, Leelan spiraled higher and higher, then joyfully slipped into a glide. Elin’s heart froze when she looked down, and she found Leelan’s descent gut-wrenching, but the gooseflesh thrill of flying far outweighed her fear.
Pressing her cheek against Leelan’s back, she smiled. She could hear the bellows-like sound of Leelan’s breathing, and sense her ecstatic joy.
Hands shielding their eyes, Esalu and the chief custodian stood for a long time watching the Royal Beast soar through the heavens with Elin on her back.
4 THE MALE BEAST
When the snow covering the meadow had melted and birds once again darted through the air, a horse-drawn cart bearing a Royal Beast lumbered into the Kazalumu Sanctuary.
“I’ve never heard of a mature Beast being captured in the wild before,” Yuyan said as she placed her hands on top of the railing and stretched over it to peer into the meadow. The students were all clustered at the fence, watching the custodians bring in a Beast paralyzed by the Silent Whistle. Elin was standing beside Yuyan.
“The Hunters made a mistake,” Kashugan remarked casually. Recently, he seemed to be wherever Yuyan was. Whenever they were alone, Elin teased her, but Yuyan responded sagely that it was hard to be so popular.
“They were trying to capture a cub in the nest. The parent came back and crashed into the cliff when they blew the Silent Whistle.” He gestured as he spoke, making it seem as if he had actually been there when it happened.
Royal Beast Hunters were bound by strict rules that forbade them to kill a wild Beast under any circumstances. To have accidentally injured a mature one was shameful. They had retrieved the wounded Beast with the cub because they certainly could not leave it there. The wounded adult had been brought to Kazalumu while the cub was sent to the official Sanctuary.
“So the mother was protecting her cub… We’d better fix her up quick so she can get back to her little one.”
“You’re wrong there, Yuyan. That’s the father.”
“The father?” Yuyan’s eyebrows flew up.
“I heard them say it’s a male.”
Yuyan stared at Kashugan. “Where do you get that kind of information?”
Kashugan laughed a little bashfully without answering.
The Royal Beast was transferred to a large cart built for Beasts. Even wounded and frozen, its beauty far surpassed that of the other Beasts in the sanctuary.
On the night of the next day, Elin was summoned to Esalu’s office. When she walked in, the headmistress put her cup of tea down on the table and looked up.
“Ah, Elin. Sorry to summon you so abruptly.”
Elin shook her head. “Is there something I can do for you?”
Esalu gestured for her to sit down. “You know a Royal Beast was brought here yesterday. We’re calling it Eku, meaning male, for convenience sake. Anyway, every time the effects of the Silent Whistle wear off, he goes into a violent rage. At this rate, even if we treat his wounds, they’re just going to open up again.”
“Ah…” Elin nodded, recalling what Leelan had once been like. Whenever she had woken after the Silent Whistle, she had gnawed furiously on her own fur. Just like Leelan, the new Beast, Eku, had been hurt when the Silent Whistle was used. Perhaps he associated the memory of the whistle with his injury and was reacting to it.
“So I wondered,” Esalu said, adjusting her reading glasses, “if you’d like to try using your harp on Eku.”
Elin frowned as the words of the Ahlyo flashed through her mind, but she pushed them away. “…I don’t know if it will work, but I’ll try.”
Seeing Esalu’s eyes gleam with the pure curiosity of the scholar, Elin felt her own heart begin to race.
I wonder if a wild Beast will respond to the harp, too…
As Elin approached the stable, a thudding sound jarred the pit of her stomach. Eku must be throwing himself against the wall. The harp was crooked under her arm, and she slipped it into her hand as she hurried inside. Frowning, the teachers stood looking through the bars at the raging Beast. When they saw Elin, their faces lit up with keen interest, and they stepped aside to let her through.
Eku was in a miserable state. With his wings spread wide for balance and his broken leg dangling awkwardly, he hopped on his sound leg and hurled himself against the bars. With each impact, the bars groaned, and dust trickled down from the ceiling.
“What do you think? Can you do it?” Esalu whispered.
“I don’t know…” Elin answered in a low voice. “But I doubt that he’ll even listen to the harp right now. He’s too excited.” She looked at Esalu. “Give me one night. Let me stay here with him.”
Esalu seemed to guess what she really wanted. “All right,” she said. “Listen, everyone, let’s leave this to Elin and go outside. If any of you feel the need to watch, you can, but to help Eku calm down, I think the fewer people in here the better.
“Elin, what about the light? Shall I turn it out?”
“Yes, please.”
Esalu nodded and, blowing out the lantern, she u
shered the teachers out the door. Even after they had left, Eku continued to storm about the cage. Elin sat with her back against the wall and watched. He was big. A whole head taller than Leelan perhaps. If he broke the bars, she would be torn to shreds in seconds… For the first time in a long while, she felt a lump of fear in her stomach. Motionless, she watched, waiting for the Beast’s anger to dissipate.
Past midnight, Esalu slipped in quietly. Eku, most likely exhausted, was fast asleep and snoring faintly. Esalu sat down beside Elin and wrapped a blanket around her shoulders. The two of them spent the rest of that long night cuddled in their blankets, nodding off occasionally.
When day began to dawn, Elin took out her harp and started to pluck it quietly, mimicking the sounds that Leelan made when she was feeling content and lazy. The Beast opened his eyes and raised his head, looking surprised. Esalu opened her eyes, too, but she kept quiet. The Beast listened for some time, and then began to make a slightly higher pitched sound in his chest. Elin smiled. It was the sound that Leelan made when she came too close to another Beast in the meadow. Elin thought it indicated lack of hostility.
Restraining her excitement, she plucked out the response repeatedly as she stood up slowly. The cooing of the Beast and the thrumming of her harp intersected and then resonated. The sound gradually faded, and the Beast no longer raised its hackles when she approached. She picked up a lump of meat containing a sedative and, opening the door, threw it inside. The Beast, which had been fasting ever since it was captured, devoured it in a single gulp.
Elin helped set the bones in the sleeping Beast’s leg. “…It’s broken in two places,” she murmured.
“Yes. Thank goodness it’s a simple break. He should heal quickly.” Esalu worked deftly and, in no time, the leg was splinted and bound. By the time they left the stable, they could hear the breakfast gong. As they walked toward the school, Esalu asked, “What does that sound mean?”
“You mean the one I played? I think that the Beasts use it to show they mean no harm. I’ve heard Leelan make that sound when she gets too close to other Beasts.”
Esalu nodded thoughtfully. “That’s interesting, isn’t it? We’ve been taught that the Royal Beasts don’t live in packs, yet if they communicate like that, checking for the presence or absence of hostility, and allowing those that intend no harm to approach, they may have more interaction than we thought. They may even form a sort of pack, but one that’s spread out over a much wider territory.”
Elin nodded. She had been mulling over this idea for quite some time. “Yes, I’ve been thinking the same thing. I’m not sure how to describe it, but Leelan often explains what she wants with quite a bit of detail. If Royal Beasts really are solitary, they shouldn’t need such sophisticated ways of communicating.”
“Really? That’s fascinating… There’s so much we just don’t know about them. They’re like a blank sheet of paper. The more we observe them, the more we should be able to learn.”
Elin felt a warm thrill course through her. It was true. The more she learnt about them, the more she discovered new things, and if she could study them in the wild, she would be bound to learn even more.
When the school came into sight beyond the forest, Esalu said, “Your harp communicated to that Beast, even though you were not imprinted on his mind from infancy.”
“Yes. But that’s because it’s a very simple sound. Just like mimicking a greeting will communicate in a foreign language.”
Esalu looked up at Elin. “Do you think that if I tried it, it would work for me, too?”
“Yes, probably… If you had never used the Silent Whistle on Eku.”
Esalu frowned. “Oh… right. I did use it. Do you think he remembers?”
“Yes, Royal Beasts have excellent memories. I believe that they remember very clearly anyone who has used the whistle on them.
“Still, thinking of Leelan, even if someone has used the Silent Whistle once or twice, how that person treats the Beast afterwards might change the response.”
“I see…” Esalu nodded and gazed at Elin. “It’s worth a try anyway. Would you teach me how to make those sounds?”
Elin blinked. She had prepared herself for the day when she would be asked this question. But now that the time had come, she found that it was not easy. If she taught Esalu, sooner or later people would realize that anyone could communicate with the Beasts… and that might trigger a catastrophe. If the spirits of her ancestors were still watching her, would they tell the Ahlyo what she had done?
Elin stood still. She could not refuse without explaining why. While she hesitated to tell her what she had learnt from the Ahlyo, she could not bear the thought that Esalu might assume she wished to keep the skill to herself. And besides, Esalu had a right to know. If Elin was to continue using the Art to treat Royal Beasts like this, then she must consult her properly, at least this once.
She turned to face her. “It would be easy for me to teach you, but before I do, there is something you need to know.” She was not sure where to start and, in the end, she took a long time in the telling, but Esalu listened without uttering a word. When she was finally through, Esalu sighed.
“So that’s what he meant…” she murmured. She rubbed her hands over her face, as if she were scrubbing it. Then she looked up at the sky and said, as if to herself, “So that’s what he meant by a ‘catastrophe’.” She looked at Elin and smiled. “I met an Ahlyo once, too. Deep in the mountains…”
“I see…” Understanding dawned in Elin’s face. “So that’s why you seemed suspicious of me when we first met.”
Esalu’s smile deepened. “Yes. I should have told you much sooner, but I just couldn’t bring myself to talk about it. I’m sorry it took me so long, but now I’m glad I’ve told you.”
She looked back at the Beast stable and said quietly, “Your fear may be justified… It may be better to keep the Handler’s Art to yourself. If people knew that anyone could use it, others would be sure to try and control the Royal Beasts.” Her eyes shifted back to Elin, and a look of concern crossed her face. “But when I think of you, it seems to me that that road could be very dangerous. There would be less risk to you if it were a skill that anyone could use.”
Elin shook her head. “…I would rather that the risk was mine alone. My mother’s people pleaded with me, yet I made the decision to ignore them, even though they were desperate. I just can’t bear to confine Leelan within the narrow cage of the Law to avoid some future catastrophe that might never happen. But if my actions might bring about such a disaster…” Her voice grew husky. “Then when it comes, I will not hesitate to lay down my life, if I believe that could avert it.”
Esalu gazed at Elin’s bloodless face—the well-defined features held a stillness that seemed beyond her eighteen years. She reached out and gently touched her hand. It was trembling slightly, and she gripped it firmly. “…All right. I respect your commitment. But we must be careful not to let others know that you can use the Art.”
Elin felt the warmth of Esalu’s dry hand against her own. Her throat constricted, making it impossible to speak. She gazed at Esalu, noting that her hair was peppered with gray these days, and bowed deeply.
5 FLIGHT OF TWO BEASTS
Eku recovered quickly and, within half a month, was completely healed. The teachers involved in his care could not hide their astonishment. Elin always accompanied them when they treated him, calming him with her harp so that she could feed him a sedative concealed in a lump of meat. It was her idea to use a slow-acting sedative rather than one that put him to sleep right away, and he ate eagerly, unaware that the meat had anything to do with him falling asleep.
Whenever Elin went to Leelan’s stable after assisting with Eku’s treatment, Leelan seemed very interested in her. She sniffed her intently until she was satisfied, and then turned away with a contented expression. Elin also noticed that the fur on Leelan’s chest was taking on a pinkish hue. When she asked Esalu about it, however, Esalu said that
she had never seen this in any other Beast.
Once sure that Eku was completely healed, the teachers decided to let him out into the meadow. He had only been brought here for healing, not as a gift to the Yojeh. Now that there was no longer any worry that he might die, they could free him. “Besides, he eats almost twice as much as the other Beasts,” Yassa remarked, voicing what they all felt. Kazalumu Sanctuary had a hard enough time making ends meet. It could not afford to feed a Royal Beast that received no funds for its care from the Yojeh.
Elin was standing beside Leelan when they opened the stable door to let Eku out. It was a warm spring day, and the morning dew sparkled whenever the sun poked its face from between the thin stream of clouds. Eku appeared in the doorway and hopped out into the meadow, squinting as if to accustom himself to the light. He spread his wings wide, raised his head, and sniffed the air. At that moment, Leelan, too, raised her wings and sniffed.
Elin looked up at her in surprise, and then around at the other Beasts in the meadow. Although they looked at Eku, they just stood there, without sniffing. Leelan began making a strange cooing sound in her breast. Elin gasped. The fur on her chest, which had been a pale red, was now bright crimson, as if blood had spurted across it. And that was not all. She was exuding a strong, sweet scent.
Eku raised his head to the sky and gave a high-pitched trill. Li, li, li, li, li, li.
Immediately, Leelan responded, trilling an even higher note. Eku flew into the sky with powerful strokes. Leelan ran forward and launched herself into the air. As if pulled by a thread, the two Beasts became a single dot in the sky, flitting above and below one another in a strange dance. Radiating a hard light, they flew along the edge of the silver clouds, ripe with the sun. Leelan’s chest gleamed like a bright red jewel.
The Beast Player Page 24
