A sharp crack boomed from somewhere distant. A tree had split, unable to withstand the brutal cold.
Van recalled images from the past, his eyes shut.
Whenever his grandmother heard that sound, she would say, “Ah, the white spirits are kicking the trees again.” People of her generation believed that pyuika spirits romped through the winter forests and split the trees when they kicked them with their hind legs. On days when the sound cut clearly through the air, it certainly felt as though winter demons had been set loose. The temperature would plummet, and fierce snowstorms were sure to follow.
Van had heard the first tree break late in the afternoon of the previous day and called an early halt.
Normally, when he traveled in winter, he brought along a stick shaped for digging snow, but as he’d fled with almost nothing, his only tool was a knife. Fortunately, it was a useful piece. Before they set off together, Van and Sae had taken a day to prepare what they would need to survive a trek through the mountains. Van had foraged for food, and Sae had made digging sticks, snowshoes, and other essentials. Thus, when the weather changed, they weren’t too worried.
They set about digging a cave in the snow at the foot of a large tree. Unlike rocks, tree roots remained surprisingly warm. After scooping out a large hollow, the two carpeted the floor with thick evergreen branches and used some to cover the hole at the top as well. With Olaha sitting in the center and their bodies pressed against his, there was no danger of freezing to death, even in the most intense cold.
Pyuika weathered blizzards by huddling patiently behind a large tree or in the bushes. Olaha remained motionless in the cramped and stifling interior of their snow cave, sharing his warmth as they waited for the blizzard to pass. They slept fitfully, waking occasionally to move the branches on the ceiling to keep the air from growing foul and suffocating them.
The raging blizzard began to abate during the night, and in time, a weak light permeated the walls. However, the cold persisted, and here and there, Van and Sae heard the cracks of splitting trees.
Van laughed as he listened to the sound echo. Sae looked at him with a raised brow.
“Yuna,” he said. “Whenever she heard that sound, she’d jump.”
Everyone in the camp burst out laughing the first time she did so. Delighted by this reaction, she took to jumping like a rabbit whenever a tree broke, pretending to be surprised. Each time, she came up with something new, keeping everyone amused and wondering what she would come up with next.
Sae chuckled when Van shared the story. To make someone so reserved laugh seemed like a special treat.
What an odd situation, Van thought.
For many nights now, he’d been sleeping with a woman who spied on him. Yet it felt perfectly natural to be with her, despite her not being his wife. Whenever Van considered this, it seemed bizarre. But so long as he didn’t think about it, there was nothing odd at all.
Sae didn’t seem uncomfortable in such close quarters with a man she barely knew, either. Something stirred in Van’s chest when her body grew warm and the feminine scent of her skin reached him. At those times, he felt her feelings moving toward him, too, like waves overlapping. Both of them pretended not to notice.
“I wonder if she’ll pout when she sees me,” Sae said, a smile in her voice. “It’s hard to guess what children will do when they’re three or younger, isn’t it? By the time they’re four or five, they become quite predictable.”
The remark prompted Van to ask something that had been on his mind. “Do you have children of your own?”
Sae hesitated but gave a lonely smile. “No. I was never blessed with children.”
Van rubbed his chin. “I see. Sorry to pry.”
Sae shook her head. “It can’t be helped. I was probably born that way. That’s why I left my husband and returned to my village. I was the one who suggested it. When I reached thirty.”
She looked Van in the face, still smiling. “When I first returned, I thought about him constantly, but gradually, he faded from my mind. Forgetting someone you love is sad, yet it can help.”
She went silent, and the sound of the wind enveloped her.
Van thought she was right. To let time close the wounds in one’s heart and help one forget could make it easier to go on living.
But…
In his case, life had not become easier when the memories of his wife and child faded. When Van first realized that he was beginning to forget their faces, he’d felt as if he was fading away. As his memory of their existences waned, so did the meaning of living.
Sae closed her eyes. Van gazed at her face, thinking about the life she’d lived, until sleep overtook him.
The blizzard continued for a day and a night before it finally stopped. As soon as they left the cave, Olaha stretched, straightening the kinks in his muscles. With a shake of his head, he pranced into the trees to pee noisily.
The wind had swept the sky clean, and the forest was blanketed in snow and filled with dazzling light.
When Olaha returned, Van helped Sae up, then pulled himself up behind her and clicked his tongue, urging Olaha northwest.
Sae looked over her shoulder at Van, startled. “I thought you wanted to go to the Yukata Plains.”
Van shook his head. “Not yet. I want to check out another place first, although it may be a bit of a gamble.”
The Takula Forest Road was to the northwest. Not much snow covered the trail, whether because the mountains blocked the snow-laden winds or because of the thick evergreen trees that ran along the route. In winter, it offered the shortest journey from the Toga Mountains to the eastern part of the country.
“If the Dog King still wants me, he’ll send messengers to wherever Yuna is. He’ll use her as bait to draw me to him.”
Sae frowned. “If that’s the case, then that road could be an invitation into a trap.”
Van smiled. “Do you think we should abandon this idea, then?”
Sae thought for a moment and smiled back at him. “Let’s go.”
To Van, this area was practically home. He knew every corner. If Ohfan or the Dog King sent messengers, they’d need to come down from the fort and find a road without much snow, no matter their destination. That gave Van a good idea of where they might be.
His plan was to reach the forest road ahead of any messengers, hide somewhere, and see where they traveled. Sae, however, advised against that.
“They’ll have dogs with them. Maybe not Kinma dogs, but even their hunting dogs are far from ordinary. Not even hiding downwind will keep you safe from them.”
Van frowned. “In which case, perhaps it’s better to let them go ahead of us.”
Sae nodded. “Yes, it would be less risky to give the messengers a head start and follow after.”
Van grinned.
“What?” Sae asked suspiciously, raising an eyebrow.
“Nothing. I just realized they aren’t the only ones with excellent hounds.”
Sae still looked surprised, but she smiled wryly.
Winter weather was fickle, and by late morning, snow began falling again.
Snow could erase everything. Too much of it, and Van and Sae would miss hoofprints left on the Takula Forest Road. While looking up at the falling snow, which seemed to be getting thicker, Van cursed silently. He and Sae had hoped to reach the forest after any Ahfal Oma messengers had passed, but if they arrived too late, there would be nothing to follow.
However, when he voiced this concern to Sae, she shook her head. “It’s not a problem,” she said confidently. “I’ll be able to track them even after two or three days. Our priority should be avoiding their hounds.”
“If you’re that sure, then let’s spend today hunting so that we’ll have some food in reserve,” Van suggested.
Sae smiled and nodded.
They split up to hunt, then made camp early and rested. Having spent the day filling his belly, Olaha also looked content. Pyuika survived on very little during winter, but they couldn’t do so indefinitely when they carried riders. A good pyuika rider knew when to give their mount time to forage, regardless of any need to hurry.
With night came heavier snowfall, and a true blizzard soon after. Fortunately, the storm abated by morning, but although the sun shone brightly, the fresh snow lay so thickly over the ground that progress was slow. By the time Van and Sae reached the edge of the Takula Forest Road, the sun was already sinking into the horizon, and the shadows cast by the trees were tinged blue.
Van brought Olaha to a stop at the peak of a slope overlooking the path and closed his eyes to listen. A hush had fallen over everything, and he sensed no humans. The only sounds to be heard were the hushed scurries of little creatures and the thud of snow falling from branches. The wind carried no scent of horses.
Were the messengers already so far ahead? Or perhaps they’d opted for a different route? Or perhaps… Different possibilities ran through his mind.
Sae slipped from Olaha’s back and strapped on her snowshoes. With one hand resting against a tree, she peered down at the road. Her head moved ever so slightly, almost as if she were reading something. She stood like this for a while, then made her way down to the road, plowing through the drifts. Had she spotted something?
She stopped and sank gently to her knees, bringing her face close to the snow. Then she stood and turned to look at Van. Her expression was dire.
“What is it?” Van asked, walking over.
“Horse tracks. And not just a few. I’d say at least twenty or thirty horses passed through,” Sae answered.
“Tracks? Really?”
Sae pointed here and there at the soft curtain of snow that had covered the road overnight. “There and there. Those are the easiest ones to make out. Do you see them?”
Now that she’d pointed the spots out, Van noticed that the surface of the snow reflected the light somewhat differently in those places. He’d spotted tracks like these while out hunting bears in winter—depressions made when prints were covered by fresh snow.
Still, the difference was so minute that Van would never have recognized it without Sae. Now that he had, the other tracks stood out. As Sae had said, hoofprints covered the entire road.
“These weren’t made by messengers,” Van muttered, and Sae nodded. Her face was pale.
“No,” she said. “Judging by the shape and number, they’re probably from the Lightning Squad, the elite horse riders of the Ahfal Oma. They swoop down on their enemies in bands of ten.”