The Beast Player Page 8
“Of course.”
Joeun raised his eyebrows. “Nicely said… but don’t you try touching the bees just because I’m not here to see you.” She started, and he frowned sternly. “Did you think I didn’t notice? I’ve no idea why you would even want to, but you’re just dying to touch one, aren’t you? I’ve seen you squatting in front of the hive debating whether to reach out a finger or not. Some people have died just because they’ve been stung, you know. Don’t take it lightly, you understand?”
“…Yes.” Elin bowed her head, rubbing her thumb against her forefinger.
If he knew that she had already been stung, she thought, he would really scold her. The short bristles covering the honeybees were so even they looked like they had been cropped with a razor. Longing to know if they felt soft or coarse to the touch, she had reached out ever so carefully to gently stroke one. But as soon as she had touched it, it had buzzed into the air and stung her forefinger… How it had hurt! And the pain did not ease no matter how she licked it or sucked on it.
That in itself had been hard enough to bear, but the worst part had been finding a stinger-less bee dead upon the ground when she went out the next morning. Joeun had told her that a honeybee dies after it stings, but it was only when she saw the little corpse lying motionless on the grass that she had understood what it really meant. She could not name the feeling that rose in her breast. It was as if a tiny hole had pierced her heart and a cold wind blew through it. She had stood for a long time staring at the tiny body while the other bees, apparently oblivious to their sister’s death, flitted about.
*
Joeun watched Elin as she sat frowning, her head bowed. “You sometimes do the craziest things, you know. Leaving you behind on your own makes me quite nervous. Ah! One more thing! Don’t you dare crawl under Totchi’s belly.” Elin flinched at this. When she had heard that Totchi was a mare, she had crawled underneath her, wondering if she had an udder that could be milked. But she had no idea that Joeun had seen her. “Totchi is docile. That’s why you weren’t kicked, but even Totchi will kick and buck if a fly bites her in the wrong place.” He peered into her face. “Elin, look at me.” She raised her head. “Listen,” he said, gently but sternly. “There is a big difference between people and animals. Don’t ever forget that. Totchi is a gentle mare. She’s used to you and to me. She’s like family. But if a wasp stung her and she was startled by the pain, she could kill you with one blow of her hoof. A person stung by a wasp would go crazy with pain, too, but they would never kill their friend because of it. A horse can’t make that distinction.”
As she listened to his words, Elin was overcome by a strange sensation. Her mother, she remembered, had said something very similar.
“Do you understand?” Joeun demanded.
“…Yes.”
He nodded and his expression softened. “All right then, tomorrow I’m leaving the place in your charge.” He took some cheese from a wooden plate, stuck it on a stick and began to toast it in the fire.
Watching him, Elin asked, “Where are you going?”
“Hmm? Oh, I’m going to look for herbs.”
“Herbs? Aren’t you feeling well?”
He smiled. “No, no, not for me. I’m going to sell them. Have you ever heard of chigo root?”
Elin shook her head.
“It’s great for curing inflammations of the internal organs. A root this big…” he made a small space between his thumb and his forefinger, “sells for one large gold piece.”
“Really? A whole gold piece!”
Joeun laughed and skewered another lump of cheese on a stick. “Yes, really. That’s a pretty good price, wouldn’t you say? Mind you, chigo is tricky to get because it grows in deep ravines where it ‘thrives on the breath of the Toda’ as they say. It might take me more than a day to get some, so don’t worry if I’m not back by nightfall tomorrow.” Having stuck the skewers into the hearth, he raised his face to look at her and stopped in surprise. She was staring at him, her face bloodless. “What’s wrong? Do you feel sick or something?”
Elin shook her head. In a faint voice, she finally managed to say, “You’re… going to where there are Toda?”
Joeun blinked and looked at her for some time. Then he raised his brows and smiled. “So that’s it. You’re worried about me. Well, thank you. But there’s really nothing to worry about. I’m used to hiking around here, and I won’t be going down into the valley. So just relax and take care of the house for me.”
Elin nodded, but the fear that rose inside her like a dark cloud could not be banished by his words. The smell of Toda filled her nostrils and the writhing swarm of Toda swallowing her mother filled her sight. Joeun went to bed early, intending to rise early the next morning, but although she lay down, Elin could not sleep. Even if he didn’t plan to climb down into the valley, what if he slipped?
Then he would be taken by her greatest fear. He would be killed in no time, just like her mother. Her mother. Who she had thought would be with her, always.
What if he doesn’t come back? A trembling spread from the pit of her stomach and seized her body.
3 THE SOARING BEAST
Joeun rose just as the dark sky paled toward dawn and dressed quietly so as not to wake Elin.
Lying motionless in her bed with her eyes closed, Elin listened to the faint sounds of his movements. Finally, he shouldered his pack and went out the door. No sooner did she hear the door click shut than Elin threw back the covers and leapt out of bed. She moved swiftly, following a plan she had worked out during the night. As soon as she had dressed, she grabbed the remaining cheese and fahko from last night’s supper off the shelf and shoved them into a pack. Throwing this over her shoulder, she stealthily opened the latch.
It was not yet fully light, but she could make out the black shape of Joeun in the distance as he walked through the bluish darkness. She hurried after him. The first part of the journey was through the meadow and if he turned around, he would see her. But she would worry about that when it happened.
If he had not been thinking about something else, Joeun would probably have sensed that he was being followed. But as he walked along the rugged mountain trail down toward the valley, his thoughts were far away.
I wonder if Elin was ever attacked by Toda… Her face had been so pale when she had asked if he was going to where there were Toda. He had assumed she was worried about his safety, but in retrospect there must be more to it than that. When he had found her lying on the lakeshore, she had been caked in a glue-like mud that reeked of Toda. Anyone who got close enough to get that coated in slime ought to have been eaten alive. Anyone but a Rider that is. He frowned at this thought. Wait a minute. That’s a possibility I hadn’t considered.
Although the Yojeh did not own such base creatures as the Toda, he had heard that the Aluhan, the Grand Duke, who was not bound by sacred rules, had skilled beast handlers called Toda Stewards to raise and train them. She came from Aluhan territory and she seems to be from the skilled classes… Was she the child of a Steward? But the Toda Stewards swore allegiance to the Aluhan alone. Surely they would never mix blood with an Ahlyo. Oh dear, that child remains a mystery.
Although morning came, it was a dark day. Heavy clouds flowed across the sky. His prayers that it would not rain must have fallen on deaf ears, for by the time he neared the ravine large drops had begun to fall. In moments, it was pouring as if someone had upended a barrel in the heavens. He fled into the shelter of a large tree and wondered whether he should turn back or not. If it had continued to rain, he would have given up and gone home. But the downpour gradually dwindled to a gentle drizzle tapping on the leaves, the clouds lifted, and the summer sun showed its face at last. The soggy ground would hamper his footing, but it seemed too much trouble to turn back after coming all this way. He swung his pack onto his shoulder and returned to the trail, wiping away large drops of water that slipped from the leaves of the trees onto his face.
The rustling of
a bird or animal in the brush behind him caught his attention. Wildlife must be on the move again after the storm, he thought. In addition to the pack slung over his shoulder, he carried a small pouch tied to his waist and from this he pulled a pungent fruit, the strong odor of which repelled most wild creatures. He squished it in his hand and rubbed the juice on his clothes. The smell conjured up the face of the old man who had generously shared his knowledge, teaching Joeun everything from beekeeping to walking the mountains. Without him, Joeun doubted that he could have made a living as a beekeeper. He offered a silent prayer for the repose of the man’s soul and set off again.
At last, the forest came to an end and a deep ravine appeared ahead. The cliff had been hollowed out so that it curved like a deep bowl, far below which ran a muddy river. It must have rained at the headwaters, for the river was fuller than he remembered. He walked slowly along the edge of the cliff, thick with grasses, looking carefully for each foothold.
Last year, he had come out of curiosity, wondering if any valuable herbs grew here. When he had chanced to see chigo blooming at the base of a large soshu tree halfway down the cliff, it had already been dusk and there had not been enough light for him to find his way down. Besides, the spot where the plant grew was impossible to reach without a rope, and he had not thought gathering the root to be worth the effort.
This time, however, he had come for the express purpose of collecting the plant and was better prepared. The soshu was just where he remembered, and he put down his pack and took out a sturdy rope. Wrapping one end around the trunk of a firmly rooted tree and securing it tightly, he tied a small stone to the other end and threw it toward the soshu tree. It fell among the bamboo grass. Joeun grasped the rope and began climbing backwards down the cliff, placing his feet carefully. He had descended about twenty paces when suddenly the rock beneath his right foot crumbled, followed almost immediately by the rock under his left foot. With his hands still clinging tightly to the rope, his body swung hard against the cliff, knocking the wind out of him. Pain seared his hands where the rope burned, and he let go with a cry. He began sliding down the rock face, his belly scraping against stone. Reaching out to grasp a bush, he smashed his chin on a branch instead. Sparks filled his eyes. Losing consciousness, he slid helplessly down the cliff.
Something touched his chin, and a sharp pain shot through his head. He groaned and opened his eyes. His blurred vision cleared, and he saw Elin’s worried face, streaked with mud and tears, peering down at him. “Joeun! Joeun!”
He gazed up at her blankly for a moment and then opened his mouth to speak, only to feel pain racing through his jaw. He reached up automatically to touch it, but a little hand caught his own and held it firm. “Don’t! You’ve got a bad cut there so don’t touch it.” She pushed against his hand with all her strength.
Joeun moved his lips gingerly, tears starting in his eyes. “…Where am I?”
“Halfway down the cliff,” Elin answered, choking back sobs. “So please don’t move… There’s a ledge here, but there’s only enough room for the two of us. Whatever you do, don’t move!”
With his eyes, he told her he had understood. Her lips began to tremble, and she burst into tears. “I thought… you were dead!” Relief washed through her, releasing all the fear and adrenalin inside her. Shaking violently, she threw her head back and wailed, and as she did so, the terror that had gripped her gradually lessened its hold. After weeping until she had no more tears left, she took a deep breath and wiped her face vigorously. Looking into Joeun’s face again, she asked, “Are… are you all right?”
Once again, he answered with his eyes. He hurt all over, but judging from the fact that he could wiggle his fingers and toes, he had not injured his spine or broken any bones. His wits had returned, and he now realized his predicament. He may not have broken any bones, but his legs and back had taken a beating. He wouldn’t be able to climb the cliff for a while. He must have lain unconscious for some time. The sun was already starting to set. Trying to move his arm, he noticed for the first time that he was covered in a blanket.
“What’s… this?”
“Your blanket. It was rolled up under a tree so I tied it to my back before I climbed down.”
“You… what?”
“It’s not that heavy. I brought food and water, too.” She raised a flask and smiled proudly, crumpling her tear-stained face. Joeun had had no idea she was following him, but now he was glad that she had.
“Can… you… climb up… the rope?” he murmured, trying not to move his jaw. Elin nodded. “Take the blanket… and sleep under… the tree… at the top… It’ll be… dark soon.”
Elin shook her head. “No. I’m staying with you.”
“Stupid… It’s too… narrow… What if… you fall?…”
“I won’t. It’s wide enough.”
He gave up and let her have her way. The temperature dropped rapidly as the sun set. Even though Elin covered both of them from head to foot in the blanket and pressed her body close, it was too cold to sleep soundly. Many times Joeun woke in the night and each time Elin helped him up so that he could relieve himself. Each time he stood up, agony shot through his back and legs. Even worse than the pain, however, was the fear of falling from the ledge. In the darkness, he could not see where the rock shelf ended. How he wished he could sleep through until morning.
As the long night drew to a close and dawn was just beginning to break, Elin started awake, disturbed by a familiar musk-like odor. At first, she thought it must be the old nightmare that haunted her mind, but when she poked her head out of the blanket she knew it was no dream. The scent of Toda pervaded the icy dawn air. Fear strangled her and her pulse raced. Gently, so as not to wake Joeun, she moved her head and looked over the edge, but all she could see was a rock ledge like this one further down the cliff. In the dimness, she could just make out the dark shadows of some bushes, and a few logs, probably washed up by the surging river, lying on the ledge. Yet each puff of wind carried the distinctive scent of Toda.
Suddenly, something moved at the edge of her vision. Casting her eyes in that direction, she froze. Faintly but surely, she saw one of the logs moving. Her spine grew cold. They were not logs after all. They were Toda: three of them… What, she wondered, could they be after?
As she watched, they began inching slowly but steadily toward what appeared to be a thicket of brush. Squinting, she saw something stirring inside it. What on earth could it be? An animal? Or perhaps a hatchling? That must be it. It wasn’t brush but a bird’s nest.
As soon as she recognized the nest for what it was, she realized something very odd. Toda were huge beasts, large enough for a warrior to ride. Having ridden one herself, she knew that their heads were as big as her body. Yet the hatchling in that nest was far larger than any Toda head. Could there really be a bird that big? She had never seen even a full-grown bird larger than herself, let alone a hatchling. And this definitely appeared to be a baby. Although it flapped its wings occasionally, its movements were still clumsy and immature.
Where was its mother? By now, the Toda had crept very close. Soon they would pounce upon the hatchling and rend it from head to foot. Elin grimaced. Her heart went out to it. It was only a baby. How awful to die like that… She longed to do something, but she knew only too well that she could not stop Toda just by throwing stones at them. They reared their heads and poised to strike.
It’ll be killed! She screwed her eyes shut.
At that moment, a piercing whistle split the air. The complex modulation of notes reminded Elin of a finger flute. She jerked her head up to gaze toward the sound. Although the sky was still a deep ultramarine, sunlight rimmed the mountain peaks above in a halo of pale gold. In the midst of that light, a dark speck appeared and hurtled downwards, gliding on giant wings. Still whistling, it swooped past her head, casting a dark shadow.
Elin stared so intently that she forgot to close her eyes or even to breathe as she branded its shape on her brain. It wa
s no bird. Gigantic wings, as wide in span as the rock ledge, needle-sharp fur of dazzling silver, a fearless wolflike face, huge, sharp-clawed feet…
A gust of wind stirred by the creature’s wings swept up Joeun’s blanket, and Elin grabbed it hastily. The winged beast sped smoothly through space, sinking down upon the Toda. To her astonishment, the Toda had turned away from the nest and rolled onto their backs with their bellies exposed, as if to say, “Here I am. Eat me.” Then followed the strangest hunt she had ever seen.
Not once did the Toda raise their heads, even when the beast attacked. Snatching one in its jaws, like an eagle scooping up a snake in its beak, the creature tore it to shreds. Toda scales were impervious to arrows, yet the beast’s fangs bit through them as if they were made of soft leather. In moments, all three Toda had been ripped to pieces.
Caught in a shaft of morning light that passed over the mountain ridge, the beast blazed silver. Elin stared transfixed at the godlike figure feasting on Toda as if they were sacrificial offerings.
And that song… She remembered her mother placing her fingers against her lips and whistling a melody that was now imprinted indelibly on her memory. The beast’s song had sounded so similar. Why had the Toda responded like that? If that sound could control them, then why didn’t they close their earflaps to block it out? Or did the sound penetrate through their mouths even when their earflaps were closed?
Once it had finished eating, the creature began preening its fur just like a cat, rubbing its bloodied muzzle against its breast. Then it folded its wings. At that moment, a strange sound, like that of a harp being strummed, reached Elin on the wind. Lon-lon-lon… It must be the creature’s cub. The baby flapped its wings in appeal and cried again. The mother beast responded with the same harp-like sound. Lo, lolon, lolon. Then it walked over to the nest, opened its mouth and began feeding its young. The tenderness with which it folded the cub within its wings and fed it was a far cry from the fierceness with which it had devoured the Toda.