Shuli Go Stories Vol. 5: The Two Keepers

Part 6

"Left here," the young woman told Quan as they approached another fork in the road. They had slowed to a gallop a half mile earlier, when they could no longer see smoke from Lian's fires, and Quan couldn't detect anyone following them.

"Where are we going?" He asked.

"My village. They won't follow us there. We have sentries."

The sentries were two short, middle-aged men with less hair than teeth, and not many teeth to speak of, armed with short bows standing on top of the hills that nestled the village. They looked so terrified of Quan and the young woman's approach he knew they would be completely useless against the bandits. Quan turned back as soon as the village and its sentries came into view, and told her, "go on ahead. I have to go back for my mother."

The young woman said something in return, but Quan was already setting his horse off into a sprint. He retraced his path, and within five minutes he spotted her down the way, coming towards him at a leisurely pace. He released the breath he didn't know he'd been holding in, and waved at her. She waved back, looking none the worse than when he'd left her.

"You're ok?" He asked when she got close.

"Yeah. You?"

"Fine. Got away no problem."

"And the girl?"

"Fine. Her village is just this way."

"Ok. We'll go pick up our horse and be on our way."

"...What happened back there?"

"Not much. We're fine for now."

Quan just nodded, but he could tell his mother was hiding something. She looked unwell, almost like she'd just been sick. And her clothes were disturbed, covered in dirt and dust. She'd fought, and not just with spells.

As they turned the last corner and started the approach between the two hills above the village, Lian let out a sigh. "I've been here before..." she whispered. "We may need to leave quickly. Let's get the horse and get ready to go."

Quan nodded again, gripping the reins of his horse tightly. The young woman was standing at the opening to the village, next to the horse. A crowd of other villagers had come to see her, but most of the peasants would be out tending their crops. Quan and Lian approached her and remained on their horses.

"Are you all right?" Lian asked the girl. The other villagers retreated – anyone on horseback in their lives was someone to be feared.

"Yes, I am fine." She answered without any of the fear that had dominated their initial encounter. She was at home in the village. She felt safe. "My donkey though..."

"I'm afraid I couldn't bring it back. There were too many of them to keep away."

The girl nodded, but Quan could tell the loss of the donkey was a crippling one. Peasants like these survived or died with their animals. Losing one may impoverish the girl and her family. Quan's heart went out to her. "We should reimburse you for it," he said suddenly.

Lian looked at him but didn't say anything. The girl however, did reply.

"No. I could not possibly. You did not take it. They did. You saved me."

"Please," Quan pressed on. "I insist."

"No, truly. I cannot let you." The girl's voice indicated she was not refusing to be polite. She refused because of pride. He looked at her again and saw that her clothes, while thin and worn, were slightly better than the other peasants. Her hair was cleaner, and her face had a healthier look than the villagers nearby. A face that was looking at Lian. "You fought him?" The girl asked Lian.

Quan was confused, but Lian wasted no time responding. "Yeah. I did."

"And you survived?"

"Yup."

"Then you've done better than the regiment ever did." The young woman stared at Lian for a few more minutes, then breathed in deeply, as if stunned. "You're... I mean, you're..."

"Yeah. A Shuli Go."

"No, I mean... You're the one who..." Her voice died, as if the air had been pulled from her lungs.

Lian didn't say anything, but Quan noticed his mother's jaw tighten and the hand on her Wamaian sword grip squeezed harder. The young woman didn't say anything more, but her head dropped and the rest of the villagers dispersed, leaving the three of them alone again.

"What's the—" Quan asked, only to be interrupted.

"Come with me," the girl said with a strained, almost tearful voice. She didn't look up at either Quan or Lian, just started walking with her head down, her already tiny body shrivelled by some unseen torrent.

Quan didn't immediately follow, but when Lian did he fell in behind her, his questions kept inside by the quietude of her face, the concentration in her eyes. They walked through the village's simple wooden and straw-thatched homes, each barely big enough for the inhabitants to sleep on the floor around the central fire, keeping the winter cold out as best as they could. They weren't that different from peasant homes in the Zhosian countryside, but these seemed to Quan particularly decrepit: there were holes in the sides that needed patching, much of the straw looked to be rotting, and the smell that came out of each one when they walked by was almost enough to make him gag. The girl brought them to the largest home by far, more sturdily built but also showing signs of poor maintenance. There was a door made of long branches lashed together – more solid than the wool curtains that served the other homes, but just barely – which she entered without pause. Lian waited for Quan to join her at the open doorway.

"What's happening?" Quan whispered in Zhosian.

Lian didn't say anything, just stared into the black of the house. Quan stared too, but his eyes didn't have Lian's ability to see into dark places. Eventually she turned to face him and he almost didn't recognize the face that looked at him. His mother was scared.

"I have a feeling it's going to be bad in there."

"...Ok," Quan replied, even though he didn't feel ok.

"Just... come with me."

She walked into the house and Quan followed. Inside was mouldy and stiff, but not noxious like the other houses. Quan's eyes adjusted and he made out a kitchen and living space, with sparse shelves and old, warped cooking instruments. Lian had already followed the girl past a curtained partition into another room. Quan trailed them into a bedroom with a simple straw-packed bed and a few small personal affects, including more of the girls' finer sets of clothes sitting atop a set of drawers.

Lian and the girl were standing in the far corner, where yet another curtain had been set up. Quan approached just as the girl pulled the curtain aside and the scent of fresh human shit hit Quan's nose. A window just above the corner illuminated another bed, this one on the ground. On it was a shrivelled, gaunt man, covered from the waist down. An invalid.

Quan looked to the girl and to his mother. Both of them were staring at the man.

"This is my father," the girl said.