Aunt Yuka led Balsa into her living room and asked her to wait while she saw to some patients. Balsa sat down in a chair by the window. It was a comfortable room. The polished stone floor was strewn with sweet-smelling dried grasses, and a breeze bearing the scent of yukka fruit wafted through a window larger than those in most Kanbalese homes. Red embers glowed in the hearth, and a gleaming saucepan hung on the wall inside the wide inglenook fireplace. In the middle of the room stood a table covered in a thin green cloth. A single book lay on top of it. Bunches of herbs hung from the rafters in the ceiling, swaying in the breeze. They reminded Balsa suddenly of her good-natured friend Tanda, who was also a healer.
For some reason, my fate seems to be bound to healers. She smiled as she recalled his face. Tanda, she thought, did I do the right thing by coming back? Won’t I just cause more pain by digging up the past and exposing it to the light of day?
Fortunately, her aunt seemed to be as prudent as Jiguro had said. Balsa would tell her everything. If it seemed wiser to keep the past buried, she would leave Kanbal without meeting Jiguro’s family.
And never come back.
She heard footsteps approaching and looked toward the door. Her aunt entered, bearing a tray with some baked sweets and two handleless cups of lakalle. “Sorry to keep you waiting,” she said uncertainly. “Fortunately, there were fewer patients than usual today…. Why don’t you tell me your story now? You can take your time.”
Balsa took the cup her aunt offered. A hint of fragrant spices filled her mouth with the first sip, stirring a memory so familiar it made her nose sting with unshed tears. “I know this flavor. My father used to give me this when I caught a cold.”
Yuka breathed in sharply. She stared at Balsa and nodded. “Really? Then perhaps you are Balsa after all. Karuna and I developed this recipe when we were studying together at the academy in the capital. It’s made from a combination of spices that warm the body, and it’s an excellent cold remedy.” She sighed deeply. “Did someone rescue you after you fell in the well and were swept away by the current?”
Balsa shook her head. “I never fell down a well. But before I tell you my story, tell me what happened to my father.”
Yuka looked at her with searching eyes. “My brother was killed ten days after … after you disappeared,” she began. “The old serving woman found him lying slain at the back door when she went to work that morning. The palace guard claimed that it was the work of thieves. The house was a mess, as if a storm had passed through it.”
Balsa closed her eyes briefly. Then she opened them and asked in a quiet voice, “Did you see his body?”
“Yes. I was staying in an inn in the capital because I was worried about Karuna. He was so despondent over your death. I wanted to stay at his house, but he absolutely refused, almost as if he knew that he would be attacked.”
She seemed to make up her mind about something. Looking straight at Balsa, she said, “Yes, I saw my brother’s body, and ever since I’ve wondered what really happened. He had two injuries. One was a deep slash that ran all the way from his left shoulder down across his stomach. Any robber who gave him a wound like that would have left him for dead. Yet they still cut his throat. When I saw that, I knew that whoever did it wasn’t planning to rob him: They came to kill him. That last stab in the neck made absolutely sure that he was dead.”
Balsa nodded. “Jiguro said that if you saw the body you would be sure to notice something wrong. And he feared it might put your life in danger.”
“Jiguro?” Yuka said sharply. “You mean Jiguro Musa?”
Balsa was surprised at her tone of voice. She spat out the name as if it belonged to a poisonous insect.
“Yes … Jiguro saved me. He raised me and helped me survive.”
Her aunt looked shocked and confused. “You know, I still feel as though I’m caught in the middle of a bad dream. Your tale is like a twisted maze.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Jiguro Musa was a fool, a complete idiot who caused terrible suffering to all of us from just plain stubbornness. I’d known him since we were children, and I felt so betrayed when I realized what a fool he was. It’s true he had a stubborn streak even when he was young, but I never thought he’d do something like that.”
Balsa sucked in her breath. “And what do you think he did?”
Her aunt’s face turned hard. “If I’m going to tell you, I guess I had better start with what happened before that. You see, Jiguro and Prince Rogsam never got along. Everyone who lived in the castle knew that. Even though he was the youngest of the Spears, Jiguro displayed outstanding skill, and he was the best of the king’s martial arts instructors as well. He never let the princes off easy, but worked them just as hard as everyone else. Prince Rogsam was older, and cunning too, but Jiguro frequently beat him soundly in practice. You could feel the hatred between them.” She sighed.
“Prince Rogsam was a deceitful, despicable man. But still …” She looked at Balsa. “I don’t know if you remember anything about succession in Kanbal, but the heir doesn’t automatically succeed to the throne when the king dies. He must first be recognized by all nine of the King’s Spears. Only when they pledge allegiance to him is he accepted as the rightful heir. At the coronation, all the Spears gather around and touch his head with their gold spear rings.”
“Interesting. I didn’t know that.”
“Jiguro was considered a great hero. He was invited to attend the Giving Ceremony when he was sixteen, and all the Spears recognized him as the best warrior among them. Though he was a man of few words and never boasted, he did have a strong sense of pride. Once he made a decision, he never wavered.” Balsa nodded. “That may be an admirable quality in a warrior,” her aunt continued with a stern light in her eyes, “but the man who would bring misfortune on the heads of others for the sake of his own pride and stubbornness is nothing but a fool.
“When he learned that King Naguru was mortally ill, Jiguro stole the nine gold spear rings from deep inside the castle and fled the country. Those rings were priceless. They marked their bearers as the King’s Spears and symbolized the bond that unites the nine clans with the royal family. The knowledge that Prince Rogsam would succeed to the throne would have been hard for him to accept. But to steal the rings and run away was unforgiveable.
“Only the king and the warrior clans knew of Jiguro’s treason. We were all forbidden to speak of it because it threatened our ties to the royal family. After all, the common people could not be allowed to suspect any rift between the warrior clans and the king.
“To prove their loyalty to the royal family, every clan sent its best warrior after Jiguro. Before they left, these men took a vow of silence, pledging to Yoram, the god of thunder, that they would kill the traitor without talking to him.
“But Jiguro brutally murdered almost every one of them. Taguru, the eldest son of the Yonsa chieftain and our Spear, went after him too, but only his spearhead came back. He was such a cheerful, good-natured boy….”
Balsa slowly brushed a stray lock of hair away from her cheek. She felt numb with shock. Twenty-four years had passed since Jiguro gave that spearhead to an itinerant Yonsa worker, asking him to take it to Kanbal and pray for the repose of his soul. “So he did as he was asked,” she whispered.
She had expected people to hate Jiguro, but she had never imagined that he would be so cleverly transformed into an infamous traitor. Jiguro had been mistaken. His friends had not been forced to hunt him because their families had been taken hostage: They had done it to demonstrate their allegiance to the king and to protect their honor. Rage welled up inside her. She could not stand to see these lies so blatantly passed off as truth. How could Jiguro, or the men he had killed, or even her father ever rest in peace?
She stood up and looked out the window, then went to the door and checked the corridor to make sure that no one was there. Finally, she returned to her chair and looked steadily at her aunt. “Do you really believe that Jiguro was such a fool as that?” she asked in a low voice.
Her aunt’s gaze wavered slightly. “I don’t want to believe it, but the fact is that one day he just vanished from Kanbal without telling me or Karuna anything, even though we were his best friends. What else am I to think? I knew how much he hated Prince Rogsam.”
“Jiguro was not that stupid,” Balsa said quietly, still holding her aunt’s gaze. “He raised me from the time I was six until I was twenty-four. I of all people should know he was not that kind of man. He was reserved — a man who did not explain the reasons for his actions — and he made decisions amazingly fast, but he was always considerate of the people around him.”
Her aunt pressed her lips together firmly. Doubt showed in her eyes.
“It’s true that Jiguro’s spear had a gold ring. But only one. There were no others. Aunt, you and the people of Kanbal have been deceived.”
“Deceived? By whom?”
“By Rogsam.”
Her aunt’s mouth twitched in surprise.
“Aunt Yuka, do you want to know why my father told you I was dead? Why Jiguro had to kill the best warriors from every clan? It involves royal politics, so if you don’t want to know, it would be better that I didn’t tell you.”