Brave Story (53 page)

“I crept quietly out from under the bed and looked down the hall, when I saw flame. It was all burning…”

She heard a sound from outside the house—in the distance—the ringing of bells. The fire squad!

“I went out on the balcony, where I could see the fire-cart coming toward the house. That was the first time I realized that it was already near dawn. It was bright enough for me to see the dust rising from the cart’s wheels.”

The house was soon engulfed in flames and it eventually burned to the ground. Meena was saved by the fire team, but the bodies of her grandfather and grandmother were discovered in the smoldering wreckage. Her parents were nowhere to be found.

“They told me that bandits had killed my family, stolen our money, and set fire to the house. They said I was lucky to have been saved.”

Unlike everyone else in town, they lived in a house that was far from the nearest neighbor. There were no witnesses, and the authorities were never able to figure out what happened.

“But that didn’t explain what had become of my mother and father. I was only a child, but still…it didn’t make sense. I had survived, and I knew it was because of the lucky charm my mother had given me. I knew the two were related.”

Meena was taken in by a merchant house run by her father’s relatives in Lanka, the capital of Bog, but no matter how many years passed, she couldn’t forget that horrible day. What had happened that night? What became of her parents? Were they still alive somewhere? She wanted to search for them, to get to the bottom of it all. She was eleven when she ran away from home.

“I was a bit reckless, I guess,” Meena said, blushing.

“No kidding,” Wataru said, smiling. “Did you have any idea where you were going?”

“Not at all. But it just so happened that around that time a large circus troupe was performing in Lanka. My relatives also ran a restaurant, and many of the circus backers frequented our place. They had invited us to the circus many times. I’d even talked with the troupe leader.”

Meena figured that being a member of a circus would be the perfect way to travel the land. She could keep her ears open for information, and meet lots of people. One thing was for certain: she’d never unravel the mysteries of the past by staying in Lanka. Moving from town to town, she might come across a clue that would lead her in the right direction. And hopefully that would lead her toward the truth.

“I barged in on the troupe leader, told him my story, and asked to be allowed to work in the circus.”

Luckily for her, the circus leader Bubuho was a kindly sort. After extracting promises that she would work hard and learn to read while she was with the troupe, he granted her request.

“The circus! That’s why you move so well,” Kee Keema said, clapping his hands and grinning.

Wataru furrowed his brow. “So, were you with the circus the whole time?”

“Yes. The Aeroga Elenora Spectacle Machine, we were called. I swung from swings so high it would make you dizzy. I was part of an acrobatic aerial show—it was quite a spectacle!” Meena looked proud. “I even did a little bit of aerial rope tricks. It was the troupe leader’s family secret—a real crowd pleaser.”

“So where did you meet those ankha boys? Why were you with them? It sounded like they’d been using you for quite a while.”

Meena’s smile faded. “That was…I was foolish.”

A year before, when the boys had still been in the refugee camp in Bog, the circus had paid a charity visit to the camp. That’s where Meena first met them.

“They said that before they left the North, their parents had been officials with the Sub-race Control Board. They had seen things no one else knew about.”

The Sub-race Control Board was an organization under the control of the ruling government. In the North, non-ankha were labeled “sub-races,” and every aspect of their lives was carefully administered by the Control Board.

“Administered! Bah!” Kee Keema snorted. “They rob them of their fortunes, shove them in camps, and force them to do manual labor! To hear the waterkin refugees tell it, they would be locked in a pen, doing repairs on sailships without proper tools, and no food or drink. Every day ten or more would drop from exhaustion, unable to work, but they didn’t get any doctors, and you can forget about medicine. The weak were left to die and thrown into the ocean once they’d breathed their last. I heard someone say they’d seen a whole pile of waterkin dead just lying there!”

Meena lowered her eyes and nodded. “I’ve heard many such stories.”

“So what did those two say they knew?” Wataru asked.

“They said that the Northern Empire was secretly abducting the descendants of non-ankha who escaped to the south, and bringing them back up north.” Meena’s voice trembled slightly. “They’ve been doing it for the past twenty years or more. Their parents lived in a special center where the abductees were made to work, that’s how they knew.”

Wataru and Kee Keema looked at each other.

“When they heard my story, those boys told me that my parents had probably been taken back to the North. That’s why their bodies were never found. I thought this was the answer I had been looking for. My parents might be in the Northern Empire. They might still be alive…”

Meena’s eyes sparkled.

“But why would the Northern Empire do such a thing?”

“I don’t know. They didn’t know the particulars either, but they said that one of their parents’ superiors had come to the south before them, and if I met him he might tell me. That’s why…”

“Hrm,” Kee Keema growled. “You believed their story, and helped them escape, is that it? They led you astray with their promises, and made you work with them.”

Meena said nothing, but her head hung so low Wataru could no longer see her face. That was answer enough.

“But what about the circus? Aren’t they worried about you?” Wataru asked. “You must have snuck away, right?”

“I did. If I had told them, they would have stopped me for sure…”

“I would have stopped you too. You must have come from a good family, to take the word of those two,” Kee Keema said, jokingly.

Meena frowned. “But, there were some things I did find out. Those two hadn’t made up
everything
, after all.”

Apparently, a special unit known as Sigdora was involved with the forceful return of refugees from the North, though the reasons for their activities were unknown.

“Are they military?”

“They don’t have anything to do with the Imperial Army, no. The current emperor, Agrilius VII, and the commander of the Imperial Army, General Adja, were friends in their youth, but among the people in the north it’s widely known—though never openly discussed—that they don’t get along very well these days.”

The Northern Empire had its own peacekeeping force like the Knights of Stengel and the Highlanders here, but theirs was directly tied to the military. Unable to bend them to his will, Agrilius VII had gone behind General Adja’s back and created his own special forces to do his bidding. Thus was Sigdora born.

Kee Keema’s long tongue snaked out and brushed the top of his head.

“What’s wrong, Kee Keema?”

“Hrm? Nothing, it’s just, I don’t much like that name. Sigdora…” Kee Keema cleared his throat. “Sigdora was the name of the monster that the Old God created when he learned of the Goddess’s betrayal—according to how they tell it in the north, of course. Three heads it had, and six legs, and a tail split in two with a snake’s head at each tip. In the tales we waterkin tell, it’s merely one of the horrible nasties living in the depths of Chaos, eating the souls of those who are lost there.”

“Three heads…six legs…?” Wataru shivered.

“It’s always fiercely hungry, and it will eat anything, and once it finds its mark, it never stops until it’s sated. The word Sigdora means ‘cursed hound’ in the old ankhan tongue, you see.”

And Meena’s parents had been taken by an organization that named itself after that?

“Wataru, I have a request,” Meena said, turning her large eyes to look at him. “Won’t you let me come with you on your journey?”

Wataru felt his face redden. “H-huh?” he stammered, “Wh-what? My journey? With me?”

“Please! I know I’ll be of help! And with you, I’ll be able to travel faster and farther than with the circus. Please!”

Meena begged, leaning closer, so that Wataru leaned back until his chair was in danger of falling.

Kee Keema grabbed Wataru by the back of his neck, and grinned. “Can’t refuse such a cute girl her one request, can you now?”

“N-no. I mean yes, you can come,” Wataru said, wiping the sweat off his brow. “You did save my life, after all.”

“Thank you!” Meena said, jumping to her feet.

“But, before we leave, you need to tell the Spectral Machine folks you’re okay. That’s my condition,” Wataru added.

“It’s ‘Spectacle Machine,’” Meena said, giggling. “But, you’re right. I will.”

“How about we all go visit the circus together?” Kee Keema suggested. “You’ll be able to see everyone, Meena, and Wataru might get a lead for the next step of his search. How’s that for a plan?”

Chapter 13
In Maquiba

They waited a few days for Meena’s wounds to mend, and then the three left Gasara.
They chose a darbaba with strong legs for the arduous trip, and loaded up supplies in a cart. Kee Keema took the reins, but allowed Wataru to take over during the smooth patches of road.

Seated in back on the cart, Meena enjoyed the passing scenery. Thus inspired, she would occasionally burst out into song. Her voice was surprisingly beautiful. The rhythms and tones reminded Wataru of the music from South America his father used to listen to at home. Sometimes sorrowful, sometimes bright, the songs added their own texture to their days on the road.

It had been almost a year since Meena left the Spectacle Machine troupe, but she figured they would be back around Bog by this time. They were determined to head for the town of Maquiba, the spot nearest to Gasara on the border between Nacht and Bog. Maquiba was a small but rich town due to its vast herds of livestock. Apparently, most of the meat and vegetables that Wataru had eaten in Gasara came from there.

“Bog is the smallest of the four countries, and the circus always creates a buzz. If they’re in Bog now, word of their passage will surely have reached Maquiba.”

As expected, when they reached the town of Maquiba—little more than a cluster of small, plain buildings built of brick and log—they heard that the circus troupe had pitched their tents just over the mountains to the north.

“That’s great!” Meena exclaimed. “I had no idea they’d be so close!”

“Did you see the show?” Kee Keema asked, but the darbaba postmaster shook his head. “Not a soul in Maquiba did, sadly.”

Apparently, when the circus was scheduled to perform there had been a great fire in the mountains. The darbaba postmaster gestured with his hand, indicating the wide spread of mountains from the west to the southwest of town. “See the burnt color of the hills in that direction? They should be covered in green this time of year.”

Indeed, it was as he said. Three of the smaller hills had been stripped bare of their leafy summer clothes and stood naked and gray.

“That must have been some fire,” Wataru said.

The postmaster shook his head. “That was no mere bushfire, and it took some extreme measures to put out. Not a single blade of grass is left on those hills, son.”

All the lands around Maquiba were verdant green, with the exception of that corner to the southwest. In the distance, the travelers saw numerous pens and enclosures holding livestock—in fact, it resembled a massive crossword puzzle. Wataru saw some animals that looked remarkably like sheep. Here and there stood farmhouses and silos, their pointed roofs shining in the sun.

“The livestock here are mostly munmas,” Kee Keema had told him, indicating one of the white, woolly creatures in a corral they had passed on their way into town.

“Munmas are good eating, and their hides are strong and pliable. These woolly critters are strong ’gainst disease, and pop out babies like there was no tomorrow. Good things all around.”

The darbaba postmaster nodded. “Our munma herds are the lifeblood of Maquiba. They feed in the pastures on the hillsides around town. Maquiba’s greenery is like gold to our herders, you see.”

The fire had broken out near the mountains three days before. A strong southerly wind had been blowing close to the ground that night, and the fire grew and grew, blazing so hot that firemen couldn’t even get close. It was all they could do to cut down trees in a circle around the mountain to prevent the fire from spreading any farther. The whole town had come out to help herd the panicked munmas away from the smoke and smell of the fire. But the fire moved quickly, and the blaze burned hotter and hotter.

“We were all worried that by dawn the fire would eat up the hills and make its way farther east. If it did that, the town would be in danger. Worst-case scenario, the whole place would burn. There’s certainly fuel enough with all the grass. We moved the elderly and the children out of town, and those who remained did everything they could to control the blaze, but people were falling from the smoke, and there was little they could do. We couldn’t even put a dent in that inferno. A wind like the breath of a firewyrm swept down the hills, making it hard to even stand on your feet without holding on to something.”