- Home
- Nahoko Uehashi
The Beast Player
The Beast Player Read online
Contents
Title Page
List of Main Characters
The Divine Kingdom of Lyoza
Part 1: The Toda
Prologue: Sohyon’s Finger Flute
Chapter 1: The Beekeeper
Chapter 2: The Soaring Beast
Chapter 3: The Gift of the Cub
Chapter 4: Kazalumu, The Royal Beast Sanctuary
Part 2: The Royal Beasts
Chapter 5: Turn of Fate
Chapter 6: Flight
Chapter 7: Ambush
Chapter 8: The Gathering Storm
Chapter 9: The Beast Player
About the Author
About the Publisher
Copyright
LIST OF MAIN CHARACTERS
ELIN: A young girl raised among the Toda Stewards. The story follows her life after she loses her mother and leaves the village where she was raised.
SOHYON: Elin’s mother. An Ahlyo who married a Toda Steward and became a beast doctor.
ASSON: Son of the chief Toda Steward, and Elin’s father, who died when she was very young.
JOEUN: A beekeeper who took in the orphaned Elin and raised her.
ASAN: Joeun’s son.
ESALU: Joeun’s former classmate. Headmistress of the school at the Kazalumu Royal Beast Sanctuary.
KALISA: Housemother of Kazalumu School Dormitory.
YUYAN: One of only two female students at Kazalumu School. Elin’s friend.
TOMURA: Male student at the Kazalumu School, a grade above Elin.
HALUMIYA: Wise and gentle ruler of the Divine Kingdom of Lyoza, she is known by the title of Yojeh, meaning True Ruler.
SEIMIYA: Granddaughter of Halumiya and next in line to the throne.
DAMIYA: Halumiya’s nephew.
JEH: Royal ancestor of the Yojeh.
ALUHAN (Grand Duke): Senior statesman responsible for protecting Lyoza. He leads the Toda Warriors.
SHUNAN: Eldest son of the Aluhan.
NUGAN: Second son of the Aluhan.
IALU: A member of the Se Zan (Impenetrable Shields) who guard the Yojeh.
KAILU: A member of the Se Zan.
YANTOKU: A childhood friend of Ialu.
OHOOLI: Head of the Lazalu Beast Sanctuary.
THE DIVINE KINGDOM OF LYOZA
The Yojeh Family Tree
PROLOGUE
Sohyon’s Finger Flute
1 THE TODA’S LAMENT
Elin woke to the sound of the door opening. It was not yet dawn. In the blackness outside, the rain drummed incessantly on the shingled roof. Elin could vaguely make out the shape of her mother as she washed her hands in the dirt-floored kitchen, then turned and trod softly to the sleeping area. As she slid under the covers, she brought with her the scent of rain and of Toda, the huge water serpents that bore men to battle. Toda Warriors were easily identified by the distinctive musk-like odor of the membrane coating the Toda’s scales. It clung to them wherever they went, and to Elin’s mother, too; a sweet, familiar scent that had surrounded Elin from the moment she was born.
“Mother, was that thunder?”
“It’s a long way off. Don’t worry. The storm’s over the mountains, not here. Now go to sleep.”
With a deep sigh, Elin closed her eyes. The image of her mother’s white hand slowly, cautiously caressing the Toda hovered in her mind. She loved the stillness of her mother’s face as she gazed at the enormous beasts. Her mother was in charge not of just any Toda but of the strongest, the Kiba or “fangs”. These formed the vanguard of the Toda forces. Not even the fathers of her best friends, Saju and Chok, were entrusted with the care of the Stone Chambers reserved for the Kiba. Elin’s heart filled with pride when she thought of how highly the Toda Stewards regarded her mother’s skill as a beast doctor.
She followed her mother to the Chambers whenever she could, even if it meant she had to sew, haul water or do other chores later. But although she longed to stroke the serpents’ hides, her mother had warned her never to try. “The Toda are fearsome creatures,” she had said calmly, her eyes following their gliding forms where they churned the surface of the deep, dark pool. “If you got too near, they would sense you instantly and snap you in two, then swallow you in a single bite. You’ve seen me touch them so often you think it must be easy, but don’t let that fool you. The Toda will never be tamed… They aren’t meant to be tamed. Toda Stewards like me, and even the Riders, wouldn’t dare touch them without a Silent Whistle to immobilize them.” She opened her palm to reveal a small whistle.
Elin had often seen her raise it to her mouth. She had also seen the warriors blow such whistles in unison so that they could swiftly saddle and mount the Toda while they lay as stiff as logs. Once perched on a Toda’s back and grasping the two long horns protruding from its head, a warrior could prevent it from thrusting its head underwater and move it as he willed. On land, the Toda resembled dragons and could outrun a horse on their sharp-clawed feet. But in their true element, water, they slithered like snakes, with their legs tucked close to their bodies. Ferocious beasts, with hides impervious to arrows, they could rend a horse and rider asunder with a snap of their jaws, decimating enemy troops.
During the spawning season, the Stewards crept into wild Toda nests and stole one or two eggs from the many that had been laid. As soon as the eggs hatched, a flap-like scale over the hatchlings’ ears was partially removed. Elin had watched her mother do this once. “It’s to keep them from shutting out the Silent Whistle,” she had explained. Once astride their mounts, the warriors placed covers fashioned from Toda scales over the ear holes to block out enemy whistles.
Elin’s mother’s eyes had grown dark and sad as she gazed at the Toda swimming around the pond. Rolling the whistle absently in her palm, she had said, “If you still want to touch them when you become a woman at fifteen, then we’ll see.” Disturbed by the hollowness of her voice, Elin had pressed her no further. But how, she wondered, was she to wait five whole years until she reached fifteen? How, when all she could think about was what it would feel like to touch those shimmering iridescent scales?
Her friends, Saju and Chok, told her she was strange to even want to. Girls, it seemed, were afraid to go anywhere near the Toda. Elin could understand to some extent; she, too, found them frightening. When they plunged to the bottom of the deep pool and slithered back up to the surface, cloaked in black water, it made her skin crawl, and yet she could not take her eyes off them. For some reason, they made her forget everything else. She could have spent all day just watching.
Often she wondered if they slept at night, but she had never managed to join her mother on the midnight patrol. Every time she heard her mother preparing to leave, she tried to force herself awake and get out of bed. But her eyes remained glued shut.
Tonight, yet again, Elin sank back into slumber before her mother began breathing peacefully beside her.
An earsplitting noise rent the air, startling Elin awake. It sounded like wind whistling full force through a cracked pipe.
How long had she slept?
Her mother flung aside the covers. It must be dawn already because Elin could see her more clearly now. The keening sound went on and on, setting her teeth on edge. She covered her ears.
“Mother! What is that?”
Without responding, her mother threw on some clothes and slipped her feet into straw sandals rather than her boots, which would take too long to pull on. “Stay here,” she said as she raced outside. But Elin could not possibly stay behind with that noise echoing all around her. She had to know what was going on. Flinging a coat on over her pajamas, she hurried after her mother.
The rain had stopped but the ground was sodden and her sandals slipped in the mud, slowing her down. The d
oors of the neighbors’ homes flew open and other Toda Stewards rushed out into the street. Their families followed and soon a crowd was surging toward the eastern bluff, deep inside of which were carved the Toda Chambers. It was from this direction that the shrill wailing came.
A huge fissure ran up the gray rock face, almost as if the cliff had been wrenched open by giant hands. At the bottom where it met the ground it was wide enough for several adults to walk abreast. The guards posted at this entrance to forestall enemy raids were peering anxiously inside, unsettled by the eerie sound, but they stepped aside with relief when they saw the Toda Stewards approaching with Elin’s mother at their head.
Inside, torches burned in the walls every thirty paces, illuminating the tunnel and making the damp rock glisten. The tunnel opened into a large cavern known as the Hall, beyond which branched many smaller tunnels. These led to the Stone Chambers, a series of huge individual caverns built three centuries before by the Stewards’ ancestors. Each was equipped with its own pool or Pond. How they had been dug so deep, no one knew, but there were countless underground pools, each separate from the others to prevent the fiercely territorial Toda from killing each other. No more than ten could occupy a single Pond without fighting. Channels known as Toda Ways connected the Ponds but were kept sealed by gates of thick oak, raised only when the warriors rode the Toda out for training or to battle.
Now the caverns shook with a cacophony that rose from every Pond, bouncing off the walls and reverberating through the Chambers. People clapped their hands against their ears and gritted their teeth as they entered the cliff. Though the walkways that ran alongside the channels were only dimly lit, Elin’s mother raced unerringly down the one that led to the Kiba Chambers, without even bothering to cover her ears.
By the time Elin caught up with her, most of the Toda Stewards were already there, standing like frozen statues in one of the Chambers. Pushing her way through, she was greeted by a strange sight. Giant logs glowed dimly on the surface of the Pond. Her mother, chest deep in water, reached out to touch them. Elin gasped as she realized what they were. The Kiba! She started toward her mother but someone grabbed her shoulder. Looking up, she saw that it was her grandfather. He was staring at her mother, his face rigid.
“Are they dead?”
Her mother nodded.
“All five of them?”
Again her mother nodded.
Erin suddenly realized that the eerie whistling had ceased. The ensuing silence was broken by the sound of running footsteps. Three men burst into the cave. “The Kiba in the next Chamber are dead, too!” one of them shouted.
A gasp rose from those assembled and Elin felt her grandfather’s hand tighten painfully on her shoulder. “What about the others?” he asked.
“The Trunk and Tail units are all fine… They’ve stopped whistling in mourning. They’re still agitated and swimming in circles, but they seem all right.”
Elin’s grandfather looked around at the Stewards. “Go to the Chambers under your charge,” he said sternly. “I don’t want any Toda injuring themselves against the rock walls of the Ponds. We must not lose anymore!”
The Stewards nodded and hurried from the cave. After watching them leave, Elin’s grandfather walked toward the pool. “Why did this happen?”
Elin’s mother kept her eyes on the rigid Toda, lifting their scales to peer underneath. “I don’t know yet,” she responded.
“Did they suffocate on these washu?” He gestured at a thick swarm of glowing insects.
“No. Their gills are clean. These glow bugs must have gathered after they died.”
“Did you administer tokujisui, the herbal potion reserved for the Kiba? Surely you must have noticed something wrong during your midnight rounds.” But Elin’s mother just shook her head wordlessly. He glared at her for a moment, then said grimly, “That you could let all the Kiba die… It’s unforgivable. When the inspector comes, you will be interrogated and punished for this crime.”
Elin’s mother turned her head slowly and looked up at him. “I know. I am ready.”
He clenched his fists. “Really? You’re ready, are you? Sohyon. You know that I, too, must be ready. As chief of the Toda Stewards, as your father-in-law, I, too, will be questioned. They will want to know why I let you, an Ahlyo, take care of the Kiba, the priceless gems of the Aluhan.” His voice shook with anger then dropped to a murmur. “Were it not for Asson… If you had not been heavy with his child…” He shook his head. “No, that’s not the only reason. Your skill as a beast doctor is outstanding. That’s why I defied everyone’s protests and obeyed my son’s wishes. But if I had known it would come to this…” He almost spat out the last words and, wheeling away from her, left the cave.
Elin’s knees were shaking so hard she had to drop to a crouch. “Mother…” she whispered. “Mother…” She looked up into her face but Sohyon just stared at her blankly. Gradually, however, a glint of life returned to her eyes and she smiled faintly.
“It’ll be all right,” she said.
“But he said it’s unforgivable, a crime.”
Her mother caressed the flank of a dead Toda. “That’s what your grandfather says, but you know, the Kiba have been wiped out like this before, in his father’s time. They’re bigger and stronger than any other Toda but they’re also more susceptible to disease. Everyone knows that.” She stood looking at the Toda, apparently oblivious to everything else, even the frigid water. Her eyes held more than sorrow, as if she was concealing a deep anguish inside.
For a long time, Elin stood with her mother looking at the dead Toda and listening to the indistinct voices of the Stewards vibrating along the rocks from other Chambers. Glowing insects swarmed around the torches that had been thrust into holes drilled in the rock. Many more hovered around the corpses in the water. Watching them, Elin suddenly said, “Mother, do Toda smell differently when they die? Or did their smell change because they were sick?”
Her mother’s head jerked up as if she had been lashed with a whip, startling Elin. “Why do you say that?” she asked, her eyes boring into her daughter.
Elin blinked. “It’s just… their smell seems different than usual. So I thought that might be what drew all these bugs…” Her voice dwindled away. Her mother stood rooted to the spot, staring at Elin with a stunned expression.
“Go on,” she urged.
Elin blinked again and said, “I know that washu live near water but I’ve never seen them in the Toda Pool before. You know how you told me that different types of flowers attract different insects because of their distinctive fragrance? Well, I thought that the washu might have been attracted to the Pool because the Toda’s scent had changed.”
“You…” her mother began and then stopped. There was admiration in her voice but her expression remained unreadable. She shook her head. “Elin,” she said quietly. “You must not tell anyone what you think.”
“Why?”
Her mother smiled. “Some people are naturally suspicious. If they thought you had made that story up to help me, you might get into trouble.”
Elin frowned. She felt like she was missing something. Her mother seemed to have evaded her question, yet she could not figure out why she would do so.
Sohyon waded wearily to the edge of the Pool, placed her hands on the stone floor of the cave and hauled herself up. Elin ran over and, grabbing her robe, pulled on it to help her out. Her skin was as cold as ice. “Thank you,” she whispered, stroking Elin’s hair tenderly. Then, turning toward the Pond where the dead Toda floated, she knelt on the stone and bowed her forehead to the ground. She remained that way for a long time. Water from her sodden garments spread slowly around her in a dark pool.
2 THE AHLYO, PEOPLE OF THE MIST
By the time Elin and her mother left the communal bathhouse, the setting sun was gilding the mountain slopes.
It had been a very long day. After seeing that the Toda corpses were borne to the great stone hall and laid out on straw mats fo
r easy inspection the following day, Elin’s mother had spent hours closeted with the other Stewards in the gathering hall. Elin felt sick with worry. When her mother did not return for lunch, Saju’s mother, who lived next door, fed her. Sohyon and the others finally exited the hall very late in the afternoon, looking exhausted. Elin was waiting outside the door, and her mother took her by the hand without a word and led her home to get a change of clothes. Then they had headed to the bathhouse.
Because the Stewards spent much of the day immersed in the icy waters of the Ponds, a communal bathhouse was a necessity for Toda villages. Copious amounts of wood were burned to heat the large pool of water and the bathhouse was located on the western edge of the village to reduce the risk of fire. Elin and her mother always entered the baths last, after the Stewards and the women, and used the leftover hot water. It had been this way ever since Elin could remember and she had never given it a second thought. Today, however, as the two of them soaked in the empty bathhouse, she began to wonder why her mother always chose to come when no one was there.
Although nobody had said so, Elin had always sensed that there was a gap between them and the other villagers. Now things she had noticed from time to time suddenly began to fall into place, taking on new meaning. She thought of her friend Saju and the way Saju’s grandparents always treated their granddaughter with affectionate kindness. They even lived together under the same roof, and Saju’s cousins often dropped by to visit. Elin, on the other hand, had never lived with her grandparents. Her grandfather, the Chief Steward, had always intimidated her, and her grandmother never smiled at Elin or her mother, even though she shared rice cakes with them when they visited on New Year’s Day or other special occasions. Nor was Elin close to any of her uncles, aunts or cousins. She often wondered why her grandparents chatted comfortably with the rest of her kin but not with her, yet she had never voiced this question, not even to her mother. Something warned her not to.