Sae had pondered this for a moment, then peered up at him. On this spring evening, a hazy moon had shone through the tree branches. Heavily shadowed in that faint light, the expression on Van’s face was that of the man who’d led the Lone Antlers.
Fear had coursed through Van when Suohl told him about the settler boy. Relieved by the news of Kenoi’s death, the king and the Otawalle nobles would no longer fret over black wolf fever. Even if it turned out that the beasts attacking the settlers were wild ossam, instinct told Van that disaster could strike unless the leaders were warned immediately.
So it’s not over after all, he’d thought. In fact, whatever’s been hiding in the shadows is only now daring to reveal itself.
The Visit of the Emperor’s Eyes was almost upon Aquafa. If Ohfan had survived, he would never let such an opportunity slip by. Van had been sure of that. He’d known he needed to hasten to Kazan and warn Hohsalle. However, his first stop had to be Oki, to reassure Ohma and the others and also ask them to look after Yuna.
Unfortunately, when Van and Sae had reached the pastures where the family spent the winter, they were met with unexpected news.
Ohma had trembled after he stepped from the tent and saw Van and Yuna. Van’s chest had tightened at the sight of the tears gathering in the man’s eyes. He’d grasped Ohma’s hands in his own and said huskily, “I’m sorry to have worried you.”
Ohma had shaken his head. Tears had trickled down his cheeks, and his voice was strained. “I’m so relieved to know you’re safe,” he’d managed before breaking into sobs.
Yuna, who’d chatted excitedly ever since the camp came into view, fell silent and peered at Ohma from Van’s arms as though wondering what to do. Yoki’s family had also emerged from the tent, but there was no sign of Tohma, Kiya, or Manya.
“How is everyone?” Van had asked anxiously.
Ohma’s expression had tensed. He’d explained that his mother, Manya, passed away due to complications from a cold. Van had closed his eyes, remembering the broad smile that creased the elderly woman’s shriveled face, and her tuneless voice as she’d hummed to Yuna on her lap.
“She lived a good life,” Ohma had said, smiling through his tears. “Bet she’s in the Land of Eternal Spring right now, surrounded by everyone who passed on before her and hummin’ some old tune she likes.”
Van had nodded. Opening his eyes, he’d asked, “What about Tohma and Kiya?”
“Ah,” Ohma had said, raising his brows. “They’ve gone to Kazan.”
“Kazan? At this time of year?”
“Uh-huh. They went with Kiya’s family. There’s gonna be a special event to show how well we’ve done raising pyuika. For the Visit of the Emperor’s Eyes.” According to Ohma, officials had come to Oki when the snows on the mountain pass melted and invited all the settlers who successfully bred and trained pyuika. “There’s gonna be some kinda exposition, and they want us to race our pyuika in front of the Emperor’s Eyes. The best riders will get prizes. Tohma went prancin’ off on Tsupi, all eager to get there.
“I told Kiya she should go, too, ’cuz her whole family’s makin’ the trip. It’s the chance of a lifetime. Told her to pick up a new dress at the market, too.”
Settlers riding pyuika, a species native to Aquafa. What better way to show successful governance of the frontier? According to Ohma, there were to be reindeer races, horse wrangling, other events, and a market showcasing products from every part of the realm.
“Wish I coulda gone, too,” Yoki had remarked. “But someone has to take care of the herd.”
As Van had listened, an uneasiness stirred inside him. Sae had slipped into the forest when they reached Ohma’s settlement, mentioning that she would catch up with Van later. Had she been with Van, he undoubtedly would’ve seen the same anxiety on her face.
The Visit of the Emperor’s Eyes.
Van had known it was this spring, but it hadn’t occurred to him that settlers would gather from all over the country to celebrate this grand occasion and demonstrate their success at taming Aquafa. Such a display would be unbearable for the Ahfal Oma.
Tohma and Kiya. He’d worried for them both and wanted to ride to Kazan at once to protect them. But what would he do with Yuna? Van would’ve preferred to leave her here where she would be safe, but Kiya was gone. Burdening Ohma and the others while they were already short of hands would’ve been wrong.
When Van had thought of the carnage that might take place, he hesitated to take Yuna, but Kiya and the others were in Kazan. Besides, Yuna could really talk now, and understand, too. Although she could be headstrong sometimes, she was considerate and capable of doing what she was told. Van had no choice but to trust she’d be all right to come along.
Later, as Van had ridden through the forest on Olaha with Yuna perched in front, leaning against his stomach, he recalled how the two of them were brought together. The little warm life that he’d discovered amid that desolate landscape, strewn with corpses, had since become precious and irreplaceable.
Absently, Van had stroked her glossy hair with his hand. Yuna had glanced up at him in surprise, then smiled happily.
As they drew near the city wall, Olaha raised his head and flared his nostrils, emitting a short snorting sound from his throat.
“What’s wong wif Olaha? Is he mad?” Yuna turned and looked up at Van anxiously.
He smiled down at her. “I expect he’s caught the scent of his kind.”
A shrill sound came from the other side of the wall. Hyo, hyo—the sound of pyuika indicating their territory. Olaha stretched out his neck and answered. Kyoh, kyoh.
“What’s he sayin’?”
“Hmm, let me guess. Maybe he’s telling them, ‘I’m coming your way. Don’t make a fuss.’”
It was the sound pyuika made when it approached a herd that was not its own. Although it was a kind of warning, the creatures never fought or locked antlers, unless it was mating season.
When they rounded the corner of the wall, Yuna gave a cry of surprise, and even Van gasped. “Well!” he exclaimed. “That’s really something.”
Countless tents stood in the grassy field, and simple corrals made of hastily driven stakes linked with rope had been set up to enclose herds of reindeer and horses. Although few in number, there were some pyuika, too. Dogs were hitched here and there, and they barked furiously, pulling at their leads when Van and the others approached. Beside them, boys in charge of the corrals shouted for the dogs to be quiet, but the animals were slow to obey. Each gust of wind carried with it the scent of horses and reindeer mingled with the aroma of stew bubbling in large cauldrons.
The campgrounds were far larger than Van had imagined. While wondering how he would find Tohma and his family, Olaha shook himself. Turning toward a familiar scent, Van saw a young man on a pyuika rounding a reindeer corral as he approached.
“Look! Tohma! It’s Tohma!” Yuna shouted, stretching tall.
Tohma waved as he rode up. He’d grown into a fine rider, and Tsupi was now a full-fledged mount, carrying his weight effortlessly.
“Van! Yuna!” Tohma shouted as he drew near. His face was flushed, and his lips trembled. Tsupi and Olaha faced one another and bent their necks low, then stretched for each other, nostrils flared, and sniffed, making little snuffling noises.
Van clicked his tongue reassuringly, and the pyuikas’ tension eased gradually. They shook their heads and returned to their normal stances.
“You’ve really learned to ride well,” Van praised. Tohma’s face scrunched up, and he struggled to hold back tears. Van felt the inside of his nose grow hot. “I’m sorry,” he said.
Tohma shook his head. After drawing a deep breath, he turned to Yuna and smiled. “You made it back safe and sound.”
Yuna looked back and forth from Tohma to Van, clearly excited to be reunited with Tohma but perplexed to see him smiling when he looked ready to cry.
“I’ll fill you in later on everything that’s happened,” Van told him. “Right now I need to go into town on some urgent business. Do you think I could leave Yuna with Kiya?”
Tohma nodded. “She’ll be overjoyed. Kiya’s really missed Yuna.”
Van started after Tohma, then paused to look back. As expected, Sae was nowhere to be seen. He wondered where she’d gone, but he followed Tohma. Knowing Sae, she would likely reappear by the time he reached the town.
The tent where Tohma and the others were camped stood right beside the city wall. As Van and Tohma approached, the young men tending the pyuika in the pasture glanced their way. For an instant, they froze, eyes wide, then they came charging over.
“Mino, Chida, Moki!” Van shouted.
Their faces screwed up to hold back tears, and although they managed to gasp out Van’s name, they stood there speechless afterward. The tent flap rose, and Kiya stepped out. Her eyes went wide at the sight of Van. In the past, she’d always had a healthy plumpness to her and constantly wore a gentle smile. In the time since Van last saw her, she’d grown thin, and her cheeks were so gaunt she seemed a different person. She stared at Van and Yuna, lips trembling. A look of fierce joy suffused her face, and Van felt as though something had gouged his chest.
These people. They’re my family.
Heat surged inside him. With trembling hands, he dismounted and lifted Yuna from Olaha’s back. He bowed in Kiya’s direction. His throat felt so tight he could barely speak, but somehow he managed to squeeze the words out. “Please forgive me.”
Tears built in Kiya’s eyes and rolled down her cheeks.