Volume 1 - CH 4
Kuhn remained comatose for another two days. His fever was so high that there was nothing that Renier could do. She didn’t move an inch as she continued to watch over him. She placed a piece of cloth in snow and rubbed it all over his body when his fever climbed higher, and she washed him with water that had been purified by the cedars at least three or four times every day.
It looked like the fire had burned away all the metal poison, considering that it hadn’t killed him. And Renier felt like the rascal was beginning to breathe a little easier as his fever slowly began to break on the second day.
A faint light fell into the cave. The sunlight only entered the chamber where Kuhn was staying briefly during daybreak.
“Ugh, it’s so cold. Did the fire go out? ……Is it morning already?”
Renier, who had fallen asleep while crouching in front of Kuhn, startled as she stood up and stretched.
“W-when did you get up?”
Kuhn was sitting up. He looked gaunt, but his face was no longer red from fever and the vigor was beginning to return to his countenance. He turned to where he could hear Renier’s voice coming from and chuckled soundlessly.
“Just earlier. I was waiting for you to wake.”
Renier felt a little dazed as she watched him laugh. He looked a little awkward and embarrassed, perhaps because he didn’t laugh often. But he was pleasant to look at because his bashful embarrassment suited his awkward laughter well.
To be honest, Renier wished that the Southlanders inside the cave could be even half as good-looking as Kuhn was. Seeing him laugh made her realize that the Northlanders weren’t as ugly as she’d originally thought.
And then, Renier suddenly realized why Kuhn looked so different. The contempt that he had been wearing even just a few days ago had been wiped cleanly from his features. The boy’s features looked soft and innocent now that the cold, hard, and composed air had left him.
“May I…have you hand for a moment?”
he asked gingerly, perhaps because he was embarrassed. Renier quietly held out her hand, and Kuhn lowered his head as he squeezed her hand tight. The boy squirmed for quite some time before he seemed to choke up a little and mumbled,
“……It’s very small.”
Truly, the Northlanders had a very strange way of expressing their gratitude. Kuhn didn’t let go of Renier’s hand for a very long time. Even after their palms grew damp from moisture.
***
Renier finally began bringing back her wine and meat and sharing them with the rest of the people inside the cave now that Kuhn had regained consciousness. She also gave Kuhn some meat with a few sprigs of medicinal herbs and boiled some of her precious lard with powdered grains and rock salt for him to eat.
He hadn’t been able to eat anything solid on the first day after he had woken up, but he had heartily begun eating meat after the second. This was the first time in Renier’s life that she had ever seen anyone eating meat so well when they were supposed to be bedridden.
The problem, however, was that Kuhn was eating too well. Renier began giving him her share of food as well because it looked like he didn’t have enough. The dull boy ate his meat heartily without realizing that he was eating Renier’s dinner too. Renier realized anew that the Northlanders really were beastmen as she watched him breathe out hot breaths and rip apart the meat like a lion or a panther even though it wasn’t very salted and was so hard that people might dislocate their jaw while eating it if they weren’t careful.
“That ingrateful little piece of shit’s eating up the brat’s dinner too. Looks like it’s true when they say that animals don’t know what it means to be grateful. Hey, brat! Be careful, will you? The bastard might even eat you if he gets hungry enough,”
Sedek grumbled as he walked past. That fucking piece of shit! And who exactly has been stealing all my meat again?! Renier glared back at him, but he had already walked away. Kuhn dropped the piece of meat he’d been holding into his bowl.
“Was this supposed to be yours?”
“No. That’s just something I didn’t finish eating. I don’t really eat that much.”
“Don’t lie. I heard strange noises coming from your stomach just now.”
“Seriously, why’d my stupid stomach have to go and rumble now of all times?”
Kuhn estimated where Renier was from the direction her grumbling was coming from and did his best to smile.
“……I am sorry. I didn’t know because I couldn’t see. Eat.”
He was so stubborn about the most pointless things. He was just about as obstinate as the leg tendons of a lion were tough. The piece of meat that he’d placed back inside his bowl stayed there until the next morning when it ended up in Sedek’s mouth.
Renier wanted to beat both of the bastards to death.
***
“So, why the hell will you only agree to go outside with Mr. Sedek of all people? Tell me, why don’t you?”
Renier had been enduring and enduring, and she exploded when she could endure no more. Renier, who had been robbed by Sedek of a fatty piece of boar meat began grilling Kuhn about his ‘shitting problem.’
Kuhn spent most of his time lying down in his chamber, but the one time he got up and went outside every day was when he had to relieve himself. He was so obedient when it came to everything else, but this was the only thing that made him hop with rage whenever Renier tried to be the one to take him outside.
And so, Renier had no choice but bring Sedek, whom she despised like he was her mortal enemy, a big pile of boar lard and skin every day and ask him about ‘you know what.’ She couldn’t simply refuse to let a healthy young man relieve himself no matter how irritated she was. Still, she couldn’t help but curse whenever she thought about all the perfectly good lumps of lard she was losing every day because of the vexing fool.
“You fucking piece of shit. I had to give away some of my precious lard again today —and they’re worth their weight in gold! You heard that? Who told you I was interested in watching you shit? I said that I’d turn around and just hold onto the rope! Okay? Just so that you can’t run away! Just the rope!”
“I-I’ll repay you for the lard. I-I’ll catch you some boars and repay you tenfold —no, hundredfold.”
“I don’t need it! Why the hell aren’t you okay with going with me when you’re okay with that bastard Sedek?”
“W-well, that’s, it’s because I haven’t come of age yet. Right, that’s why.”
Kuhn’s voice suddenly grew as quiet as a mosquito’s wings. Renier tilted her head to the side.
“……What does that have anything to do with anything?”
“Well, i-in my household, men and women do everything separately until we come of age. Actually, any household in the Northlands that keeps to the proper traditions would do at least that much…….”
“And so what? Does this date all the way back to when Lord Enki used to play with dirt or something?”
Renier, who had been yelling at Kuhn in her grumpiness, suddenly snapped her mouth shut.
Oh, aha? Is he just embarrassed to go with me because I’m a girl?
Renier was astounded, so she grabbed him by the cheeks and growled,
“Aha —I was wondering why you were whining so much without being able to read the damn room properly, but it turns out it’s because you having come of age yet! Did you already forget who exactly it was that stripped you naked every day to treat your leg and wash you up? How old were you again? How are you ever going to get married when you’re so immature?”
Kuhn was sweating buckets of cold sweat as he struggled to answer Renier’s three ‘questions.’
“I will never forget that it was you, who lives inside this divine stone cave, who treated my leg and bathed me. I am sixteen years old, as I’ve already told you on the day we first met, and I will turn seventeen soon. And, while I don’t know by whose standards you are judging my maturity, I am perfectly able to be wed because my skills as a warrior were acknowledged as being that of an adult’s after I hunted a sabretooth tiger by myself when I was ten. I simply…I simply pushed back the matter of my marriage until after I came of age because I was too young to be wed. I will be able to hold my wedding and become the respected head of my own household once the spring equinox passes and I have my coming-of-age ceremony.”
Renier took her hands off his cheeks and scrutinized him up and down. She didn’t feel like arguing with him anymore after seeing how red he was in not only both his cheeks but also all the way down his neck and listening to his stupid reply.
Yeah, whatever. It’s probably easier to get my hands on more lard than it will be trying to persuade you.
Renier gave up and stepped back, and Kuhn huddled his shoulders and gauged her reaction as he began rubbing his nose. He rubbed so hard that his nose was turning bright red. It looked like this was something he did out of habit whenever he was embarrassed, but his nose was getting so red that Renier was almost worried that he might actually rub through his skin.
“Hey, your nose is super red right now. It looks like the nose of a newborn puppy! It’s really cute!”
Renier stuck out her tongue and giggled. Then, Kuhn angrily turned around and said,
“You are being rude. I am not ‘cute.’ I am a warrior who hunted a sabretooth tiger by myself when I was only ten.”
The way he was trying to make himself seem more mature was adorable too. Renier suddenly wanted to see the rascal’s face not from inside the cave under the dim moonlight but properly from outside under the sun.
She especially wanted to see his eyes, which were hidden under his blindfold. What did they look like when he smiled, and what did they look like when he frowned? She even entertained the ridiculous notion that the color of his eyes was probably cute as well.
***
‘What a catch. Hehe, this is the perfect opportunity.’
Sedek and the other grave robbers were howling with delight. They’d thought that they would all be doomed to starve helplessly to death, unable to survive the winter, but their fortunes had suddenly flipped on its head —this was truly a gift of grace from the gods.
The brat kept his promise faithfully. He diligently went out to hunt or set traps every morning and came back with something edible in the evening without fail, and if he couldn’t hunt enough, then he’d bring the salted and dried meat that he’d stowed away in his secret storages. Then, the brat and the Northlander would prepare the meat quickly and shared fist-sized chunks of meat with everyone.
Naturally, the dinners weren’t nearly enough for twelve grave robbers to eat until they were full. There would’ve been so much more food if even just one or two of the grave robbers accompanied the brat to hunt and help corner the prey or shoot down any startled birds or rabbits, but they opted to beat up the brat grumble about not having enough food instead.
The beatings happened every night without fail when there wasn’t enough meat to go around. Fast horses ran even faster when they were whipped, so they believed that beating up the skilled hunter would somehow make him bring back even just one more bird.
After all, some people existed to supply and others existed to consume, and the brat had no grounds to be upset about the injustice of it all because it had been the great gods themselves who had dictated it thus. Sedek offered a prayer of thanksgiving every evening to the gods who had sent him the brat, who was skilled at hunting, and the bumbling Northlander.
“Fuck, this isn’t what you promised —I’m gonna starve to death at this rate! This is fucking tiny! Huh?!”
It happened today, too. The bastards who were still hungry after eating their dinner dragged out the brat, who had been chatting away with the damned Northlander while sharing a tiny piece of meat with him, and slapped the brat across the face while picking faults with him and spitting curses at him.
It was the young man whom everyone called Kish because he hailed from Kish City in the West that led the charge. Normally, the brat wouldn’t have simply let someone hit him and get away with it, but he had no choice but to take it quietly even as he was slapped across the face and kicked in the stomach because he had to protect the hostage behind him.
“Stay there and don’t move a muscle, Kuhn! Don’t come out! I’ll be the first to kill you if you do,”
the brat yelled at the Northlander behind him before curling up into a ball instead of fighting back.
A few of the veteran grave robbers who knew just how dreadfully dexterous the brat was stayed in the back and didn’t lay a finger on the brat directly. It was only the newcomers who had started living in the cave just a few months ago who beat him. But the veterans did nothing to stop them. After all, they could reap the benefits without having to lay a finger on the brat this way.
The large boy, who had been grinning like a fool just moments ago, turned around and covered his ears when the brat yelled at him sharply. He ignored the fact that his own savior was being beaten black and blue right before his nose and simply quivered as he pressed against his ears so hard that the veins on the back of his hands were popping out and turning red.
The brat got up immediately, brushed himself off, and blew the blood out of his nose as soon as the beatings stopped, but the Northlander boy kept his back turned and simply quivered inside the small chamber all night long.
Sedek had initially been wary that the Northlander bastard might run away or use that monstrous strength of his to cause mayhem inside the cave, but seeing just how servile he was made Sedek lower his guard.
The bastard was a gentle coward who didn’t have an ounce of the virile guts that the terrifying rumors suggested that all beastmen had. He was large and looked scary, but he was as docile as the eunuchs who stood quietly next to the kings they served. Moreover, he truly hadn’t so much as touched the blindfold covering his eyes all week long because the brat had told him not to —though Sedek didn’t know whether this was because the Northlander was obedient or simply just that stupid.
“Weren’t Northlanders supposed to be scary? Ridiculous. Pay up, you pathetic bastard.”
“The bastards who live in Salt Mountain are the ingrateful descendants of the man-eating eagle. It fits them to the tee. But the Northlander’s mouth seems to be working perfectly fine, at least, since he keeps shamelessly packing away all the meat the brat brings him.”
The grave robbers constantly spat at the Northlander or nudged him with their toes whenever they walked past him. But the bastard only continued lying down while facing the wall and didn’t react.
Then again… What could he possibly do even if he was angry?
There were twelve grave robbers and only one of him. He was also bedridden and couldn’t even sit up by himself. He couldn’t even walk by himself and had to crawl outside to do his business if no one helped him, perhaps because he could no longer use the leg that had been injured by the bronze spear. He couldn’t even get outside of the cave by himself, much less actually fight back.
“Hey, gather around, everyone.”
Sedek cast a sidelong glance at Kuhn, who was snoring away, as he gathered the grave robbers together with his eyes. The grave robbers who’d been crawling around nearby quietly made their way over to him. Sedek continued,
“Let’s get rid of that thing once it looks like the brat doesn’t have any more meat stowed away. The brat must be stupid or something.”
“I know, right? Does he think that the beastman is really human like the rest of us? The brat’s going to be the first to get killed if he calls the others here.”
“Exactly. It’s best to get rid of anything that might cause trouble in the future. Keeps things nice and simple.”
They were all thinking more or less along the same lines. They had all forgotten that it was none other than the brat himself who had been living in the divine stone cave the longest and was the most veteran amongst all of them.
“Well, it should be simple enough to just push the bastard over the cliff when he goes out to do his business.”
“It should only take a few more people since he can’t even walk properly.”
Their discussions wrapped up quickly because they were all of a similar opinion. They were all vigorously calculating just how much longer they could keep taking meat from the brat.
It’d be nice if they could keep leeching off the brat for another week or ten days. It’d be spring again soon enough, and then it’d get easier to find food again. Sedek turned to Kuhn, who was snoring away inside his small chamber, and quietly whispered,
“But it bothers me that the little brat’s been getting so close to that Northlander lately.”
“Crazy little shit. How could he make friends with a beastmen just because they’re around the same age?”
“It’s because he’s just a little kid. And they aren’t even the same age. The brat’s like, what, twelve? Thirteen? He probably wanted to know what it’s like to have a brother. Shit, I don’t even know how old the damned brat is, now that I think about it.”
“The spiteful little brat’s gonna lose his shit if he finds out that we got rid of the Northlander.”
“That’s only if he finds out. We just gotta make sure he doesn’t,”
the young man from Kish City said carelessly. Then again, he has a point. Besides, who cares even if the brat finds out? It’s not like he’d gonna come kill the lot of us just because we killed the bastard he worked so hard to save. The Northlander was supposed to have croaked in the snow a long time ago anyway.
Damn, the Northlander should just be grateful that he even gets to live another one or two weeks.
Sedek cast a sidelong glance at Kuhn as he stood up. It was only fools who thought long and hard today about things they were to do tomorrow. The large Northlander boy was still fast asleep without a single care in the world, and it was still snowing heavily outside the cave.
***
“Ugh, shit, seriously —screw this all. To think there’d even come a day when I ventured out into a blizzard just to hunt so I can feed those grave-robbing assholes some meat. And all that just to save some Northlander bastard who isn’t even cute. Hmph. I must’ve lost my mind. And why isn’t this damned snow stopping when it’s already been two weeks? Is the great Enlil already suffering from dementia or something? He opened up a hole in the sky and totally just forgot about it, didn’t he? You should be patching up the skies in your father’s place if your father’s got dementia, o Ishkur of storms. You guys up there need to stop sleeping on the job for the rest of us to be able to survive down here. Fuck, you need to at least give it a break so the snow can melt!”
Renier grumbled without pause as she climbed her way up to the cave. It was hard enough just to walk in the snow because it came all the way up to her knees, and having to hunt in this weather made her want to kill herself.
She had been lucky on the first day because a small boar had run head-first into one of her traps and its meat had lasted several days, but it was usually smaller creatures, like starved rabbits, weasels, badgers, or partridges, that she found in her traps instead. She considered herself incredibly lucky if a stupid wolf got caught in one of her traps.
She had little other choice if she couldn’t catch enough meat. She either had to bring back some of her precious dried meat to make up for it, or she had to let herself get beaten up like she had yesterday. Renier genuinely considered, ‘I’m going to season their meat in piss next time,’ every time the assholes beat her.
Only four rabbits had been caught in her traps today. With little other choice, Renier had upturned a rock that she had marked in advance and fished out seven snakes and three frogs that had been hibernating beneath it. This was probably just about enough. It was all she had caught today, but the day was already beginning to grow dark.
“You’re here?”
Kuhn turned around and rejoiced when he heard the sound of Renier’s footsteps. Renier smirked when she saw how upright his posture was as he sat up.
According to what Sedek and some of the other grave robbers said as they sneered, Kuhn lied down on top of Renier’s wool blanket like a housedog all day long and only got up to begin ‘dolling himself up(?)’ when it was about time for Renier to come back with all the critters she had hunted that day.
He brushed through his disheveled hair with his fingers, washed his hands and face with a dirty rag and some melted snow, and if he had the time to spare, he straightened out his wrinkled clothes and undid the knots in his kaunakes in order to make himself more presentable. Renier had to admit that thinking about how he fumbled around to make himself look presentable when he couldn’t even see was pretty funny.
“I’m glad you’re back. ……Er, ahem. You’ve worked hard today too.”
He rejoiced openly whenever Renier came back, and then he would force himself to make a serious expression in order to hide his embarrassment whenever he realized just how awkwardly he was acting. Renier truly couldn’t bear to look at him directly whenever he made that face. It was too funny, especially when paired with his weirdly old-fashioned manner of speaking, and she was afraid that she might actually die laughing.
Sure, I’ll bear with all of it. It’s not easy to save a person’s life. Renier was glad that he was blindfolded, because it meant that he couldn’t see the scowl on her face.
Renier sat down and pried off her shoes and feet wraps, which were drenched from the snow, and Kuhn brought them over by the fire to dry and massaged her feet for a long time to help them warm up. He claimed that this was a secret technique of the warriors of the Northlands that prevented one’s feet from getting frostbite.
It had nauseated Renier and she had hated it at first, but it was tolerable now. Actually, it wasn’t that bad at all. His hands were large, thick, and rough, but they were also warm, and more importantly, his touch was impossibly gentle and heartfelt. Renier felt like her entire being might warm up if he massaged her like this all night long.
“How are you feeling today?”
“I’m all better now. I’m well enough to hunt with you. Fine me Urtur……my axe.”
Why does he have to spring this on me as soon as I’m back? He wants his axe?
“What makes you think you’re anywhere near well enough to hunt? You’re still boiling with fever.”
“My fever has broken. And, did I not tell you before? I am skilled at hunting. I’m stronger than a sabretooth tiger and faster than an elk, and I can even climb up the cliff we’re on as weightlessly as a bird. I’ve even hunted a sabretooth tiger that was taller than two grown men standing foot to shoulder by myself. His fang reached all the way up to my waist when I wrenched it out.”
Sure —look, I know that you’re a beastman without you needing to go out of your way to tell me all that. Renier held back her anger as she consoled the boy, saying,
“I don’t need you worrying about me if that’s why you’re saying this. I’m really okay. People getting beat up is pretty much a daily thing here in the divine stone caves.”
“I’m not all right with this. I’ll help you hunt, so find me my axe. And let me take off the blindfold.”
“I can’t do that. They’ll kill you instantly if they ever find out that you’ve seen their faces and you know where the cave is.”
“Can that not be solved by simply getting rid of them?”
“……Are you insane?”
“Those people deserve to die. They’ve trespassed onto lands that don’t belong to them, dug up people’s graves, disturbed the rest of the dead, and even damages their corpses. Every tribe in the Northlands believes that anyone who dares disturb our forefathers’ rest and violate their corpses deserves death, no matter who they are. It is not something that we will ever forgive.”
Then, Kuhn fell into thought for quite some time before he quietly continued,
“But very well. I gave you my word, so I will go out and hunt without seeing your face. Nor will I run away.”
“And how do you expect me to believe that? I’m finished if you decide not to return. The others will murder me and flee to another mine.”
“I swear that I will return without fail. I will swear this upon the name of my forefather.”
“Your forefather? The man-eating eagle?”
His vows suddenly lost their credibility. Kuhn fell silent, as if he’d been offended, before he began rummaging around his chest and pulled something out from his clothes.
“I’ll leave this behind with you if you still can’t trust me. Will you trust me then?”
“What’s that even supposed to be?”
“The heart of my forefather.”
Renier accepted it, looked back at Kuhn, touched the object she was holding, and looked back at Kuhn again.
“……I’m pretty sure this is just a rock?”
“It’s a heart! My father told me in no uncertain terms that this was the withered up heart of our forefather, the Great Eagle! The heart is only passed down between the heads of my household, and it’s the greatest treasure of all the Northlands!”
Do you beastmen turn into rocks after you die?
……Then again, I can’t say for certain that the inside of your head ins’t any different from a rock right now.
It wasn’t possible to persuade a rock. And so, Renier had no choice but to resort to blackmail once again.
“I think you’re forgetting something important here, Kuhn, but you’re my prisoner before you’re my patient, got that? You’re not allowed to leave the cave without my permission. And you swore on Lord Utu’s name that you’d listen to everything I say. Right?”
“……I did.”
“Stop bringing that up if you understand now. And help me skin this.”
Kuhn pouted, but he ultimately fell silent. It was so easy to handle the rough bastard because he immediately stopped struggling and hung his tail between his legs as soon as she reminded him that ‘you swore on Lord Utu’s name.’ It was a good thing when people were pious, regardless of which god they worshiped. ……It made them easier to deal with.
Kuhn stopped pressing his case and took the bronze shard that Renier had given him, grinded it against a rock, and began skinning the rabbits and snakes.
Renier quietly clicked her tongue. He was working blind and only by using his sense of touch, but he was still several times faster than the dim-witted grave robbers. He was so adept at observing his surroundings that he had learned how to tell when Renier was coming back by the sound of her footsteps alone in just two days. Even Renier, who had keen senses herself, could not help but marvel in amazement.
“Er, well…there’s something I’d like to ask you,”
he said as he worked with his hands. He looked taciturn, but he was actually rather curious and had a lot he wanted to say.
“Sure. What is it?”
“What did you catch today?”
“……Can’t you tell by touching it?”
But everything he said tended to lack substance.
“Well, yes. Snakes and rabbits. Are the rabbits brown or white?”
“Who cares? Everything I caught today is the same color as shit. Does knowing that make it taste any better?”
“Er, no, it doesn’t. How many did you catch?”
“Can’t you count that yourself?! Just count them! One, two, three, four!”
“I-I see. Four rabbits, and seven snakes. Um, what did you use to hunt them? A stone-sling? Or a bow, perhaps? Do you know how to use a bow? Are you adept at it? Which animal’s tendons do you use for the bowstring?”
“You think I’ve been prancing around shooting arrows when there’s a blizzard outside and the snow’s piled all the way up to my knees? Traps —I laid traps, okay?! Going around and checking all of them is a hard day’s work too. Damnit all!”
“H-how many?”
“Gods damnit! A hundred —happy now?!”
Kuhn always looked like he impatiently wanted to say something whenever Renier sat down next to him. But it wasn’t as if he was praising her for being good at hunting, and he was such a poor conversationalist that he only continued to lose points with her as he rambled on. Renier would give him 7~8 points if he simply sat there without saying anything, but her evaluation of him dropped to just 2 points as soon as he opened his mouth —on a scale of 100.
“Are you hungry? Have some more of this. It’s difficult to chase down animals in the snow.”
Kuhn slyly passed Renier the piece of meat he had been eating. Renier frowned. Don’t suck on bones that you’ve picked clean while I’m watching if you’re going to say something like that! And don’t listen in so closely to the sound of me eating either!
“Hmm. T-the grave robbers had another brawl over the divine stones again today. But, it’s strange.”
Kuhn recalled everything that had happened inside the divine stone cave during the day and quietly told Renier what had happened. He was eerily good and remembering anything he considered important. He’d gather up everything he didn’t understand and ask Renier about them later while counting them off on his fingers. But, so much of what he didn’t understand were things that Renier didn’t quite understand either.
“Do Southlanders and Westerners not fear death?”
“Bullshit —of course they’re afraid of dying.”
“Then, why do they continue to trespass on foreign lands and dig up stones? Surely, they’re aware that we, the masters of this land, detest this? And that they will die if we catch them?”
“It’s because digging up even a single fist-sized divine stone is enough to turn their fortune completely around. They can just walk up to the Golden Forest with the divine stone and name their price. The priests of the Golden Forest are basically walking corpses without them, you see.”
“Divine stones aren’t used to save lives.”
Argh, can’t you tell when I’m using a figure of speech? Renier pondered for a moment before she gave up and decided to explain herself instead.
“I meant that the priests of the Golden Forest can’t do anything without the divine stones.”
“Then they simply shouldn’t.”
“……Even when the priests can draw power from the divine stones to start fires, summon the rain, lift up heavy objects and make them float in the air, and kill people with blades of wind?”
“You can just use flint to start fires, draw water up from a water vein if it doesn’t rain, use a cart, pulley, or a sky chariot to move heavy objects, and kill people with an ordinary knife, arrow, or axe.”
“…….”
“You can go and tell the priests of the Golden Forest this. They needn’t do anything. Why do they keeping sending people here to die?”
“Are you crazy?! Why the hell would I go there?! I ran away from that place……I mean, the Southlands because of how much I suffered there!”
Renier yelped back in fright. Kuhn froze up for a moment.
“Are you a runaway slave, perhaps? Are you from the Golden Forest?”
“Shut up!”
Renier shouted as she freaked out. No one’s found out about that until now, so why are you so pointlessly good at guessing about these things? She continued,
“Anyway, I’d rather die than go to the Golden Forest. Fuck the Golden Forest, fuck the tree goddess they worship there, fuck the Guardian of the Forest, and especially fuck the gods-damned priests. Descendants of the Celestials? Bullshit. If you want to tell them so badly, then go and tell them yourself.”
“Oh, is that so? Likewise! I feel the same. I also detest the priests of the Golden Forest. They’re the true thieves who instigate the divine stone robbers from behind the scenes.”
“Stop being so openly happy about having something in common with me, damnit!”
Renier looked up at the heavens took a resolute breath. Great Enlil, Nanna, Enki, and Ninhursag. I really wanted to be nice to this pitiful boy. Okay? I really did. It would’ve been so much easier if we ended up beating each other up because he didn’t listen to me, but here he is clinging to me like he’s some kind of puppy —no, puppies are supposed to be small and cute—, he’s clinging to me despite how big he is and either wagging his tail happily or getting wet ears with every word I say, and it’s really, really getting exhausting and hard to deal with. Okay?
“The priests of the Golden Forest really hate you Northlanders too. Do you know what their wish is? It’s to wipe out all the people who live on Salt Mountain. Though I guess the feeling’s mutual.”
“It’s not mutual. It is just for us to take vengeance on those who invade our lands —and the sacred graves of our forefathers especially—, but the priests of the Golden Forest are simply angry that we are getting in the way of their thievery. Not only are they shameless and brazen, but they want to annihilate my tribe too? What kind of foul nonsense is that supposed to be? I’ll murder the lot of them.”
“You’re right. It’s nonsense. You really should just go and murder the lot of them. I bet the gods will reward you for it too.”
Renier giggled refreshingly, and the simple-minded boy tilted his head in bafflement for a very long time. Then, he began saying entirely the wrong thing again.
“Those bastards call me offensive names.”
“Yeah? What do they call you?”
“They address me as a beast, pig, or dog whenever you aren’t present.”
Huh? W-well, it is true that you eat a lot……. Renier only just managed to keep herself from bursting out in laughter and spun her reply in an attempt to offend the rascal as little as possible.
“They say that because you’re a beastman. I mean, ‘beast’ is already in the name…….”
“Who said I didn’t know that?! Have you been treating me like an actual pig as well?”
Kuhn suddenly raised his voice. Renier quickly shut her mouth, but Kuhn seemed to have been truly offended this time, judging by how he wasn’t lowering his volume. He continued,
“We do not think of ourselves as genuine beasts. Besides, it’s they who are base, vulgar, and dishonorable like beasts, judging by what they’ve been saying. What is it exactly about your people that makes you better than us?!”
“Oh…….”
“Can’t you tell just by looking at me?! Have you ever seen a beast speak? Have you ever seen a beast light a fire and wear clothes and shoes made from beast skin? We can erect houses that are multiple stories tall, create altars ten times a man’s height, dig canals from which to drink water, and smelt copper and tin together to forge powerful weapons. Even I know how to forge my own weapons! So, what I’m trying to say is —why is it that you refuse to see us for who we are and conclude, baselessly, that we’re nothing but beasts?!”
“Shut up! Hey, brat! Make your dog shut his damn maw!”
Sedek yelled from somewhere behind them. Shh, Renier placed her finger over Kuhn’s mouth and quietly asked,
“Are you a blacksmith, Kuhn?”
“No, but Elder Simug —my nanny’s husband, that is— is the best smith in all the Northlands, and he taught me how to forge sturdy weapons, plate metal armor, and helmets. The knives and axes I’ve forged are capable of shattering the shields of the Southlands and the West.”
Renier opened her eyes wide. Smiths who knew how to forge weapons and plate metal armor were highly sought after in the Southlands, West, and East. Each respective city regarded the alloy ratio of copper and tin that was the best for making sturdy weapons as confidential information, and not even kings or their ministers could dare to be rude to a blacksmith who knew that information.
If what Kuhn said was true, than his tribe —or perhaps all the Northlands— had equal or even superior metalsmithing technology than even the most developed cities in the Southlands.
“Sure sounds like it. It looks like I’ve been mistaken too.”
“…….”
“Your ancestor shows up for a bit in the legends of the Golden Forest in the Southlands. The beastmen of the Whitesalt Mountains, and your Salt Mountain Tribe in particular, are the descendants of the man-eating eagle who ate even his wife who gave birth to his own children, and the legends say that the man-eating eagle’s descendants still possess the eagle’s barbaric nature.”
The ingrateful descendants of the man-eating eagle, the beastmen who are still bestial in nature —Renier, too, had believed in the legends blindly, much like the rest of the Southlanders. Renier placed her hands over the back of Kuhn’s hand and quietly whispered,
“I misunderstood your people because of the legends I was taught in the Golden Forest. I’ll stop believing in them now. I’m really sorry.”
Renier was sincere in her apology. Her attitude had grown rough and her manner of speech vulgar because she hadn’t wanted to let herself be pushed around by the grave robbers while she was living in the cave, but Renier had always been honest in nature, and she had never been the type of person who was unable to apologize to someone because of pride after she had upset them. She was quick to notice when someone was unhappy, and she was also quick to realize her mistakes and apologize for them.
Kuhn mellowed when he heard the sincerity in her apology. He was still breathing heavily, but he took his voice down a few notches in volume as he began explaining about his people.
“I never meant to deny the fact that the man-eating eagle was my forefather. Nor was I trying to deny that the fact that we Northlanders were once barbaric like beasts long ago. But we’re people now, and we are no different from you. The men of the Northlands know how to love their wives, respect their elders, and cherish their friends and children. And we are not ingrateful. We never forget our debts or grudges, and we always repay both in full. We regard upholding justice and protecting our honor as being more important than life itself.”
“Yeah, yeah. I was just telling you what the legends say. I’m sorry I upset you.”
“……Y-you need only apologize once. I’m no longer upset.”
He wriggled his fingers as he continued mumbling,
“In any event, do the legends of the Golden Forest truly mention our forefather?”
“They mention the man-eating eagle, but only for a little bit.”
“……Is the legend of my forefather entertaining?”
“It is, but it’s also very long, very awful, and very sad. It’d probably take me all night long to tell it to you, I think?”
Kuhn furrowed his brows ever so slightly.
“You remember the legends of the Golden Forest?”
“Of course I do. I remember every last sentence. I used to be called a ‘memory whiz’ in my village when I was a kid.”
“A memory whiz? That’s remarkable. ……I envy you.”
Kuhn suddenly slumped his shoulders and sounded dispirited. The bastard hadn’t even huffed, much less actually be impressed, even when Renier had come back with a boar, and this was the first time he had shown Renier his amazement.
“There’s nothing to be envious about. I used to be summoned all over the place just to get beaten up all the time because of it.”
“I wish I could remember anything I’ve heard once just like you can, even if it means getting beaten for it often.”
He sounded so sad and eager as he sighed that Renier couldn’t help but giggle.
It wasn’t easy to remember something important for a very long time. The world was overflowing with people who went back on their promises and conveniently ignored their monetary debts. Slaves were always branded by their masters’ seal, but people had no choice but to bring lots of witnesses and make visible markings when they were trading large quantities of cows and sheep, land, houses, burial caves, or fishing boats.
It was the brightest children of the village who tended to suffer whenever these large transactions took place. They were dragged to the situs without knowing why and slapped across the face after being made to memorize the contents of the contract and repeat them multiple times over. Supposedly, the pain was supposed to help them remember the contract for a very long time so that they could be called to testify(?) if deemed necessary. Renier had been dragged all over the place and slapped frequently because she had a good memory.
But it had its benefits too. People often brought ‘memory whizzes’ with them to temples or invited them to the homes of the wealthy if a vagabond was visiting and had fun stories to tell. Then, the rest of the villagers would be able to hear the stories from the children whenever they pleased.
“Huwaaah, I’m sleepy. You’re probably sleepy too, Kuhn —hurry up and go to bed.”
Renier yawned as she lied down in front of Kuhn when Kuhn stammered,
“Er, um. I’m not tired.”
“Makes sense, since you’ve been napping all day long. ……So what am I supposed to do about it?”
Renier grumbled coarsely out of habit, like she was bickering with the grave robbers, before she quickly shut her mouth. It meant that Kuhn was upset when his large frame seemed to wither up and his shoulders sagged. Renier could help but feel sorry when she thought about how he was forcing himself to stay lying down as he waited for her all day long.
Renier had formed the habit of always adding thorns to her words because she had to be spiteful and react strongly if she didn’t want the grave robbers to make light of her —who knew what they’d do to her if she appeared even a little weak before them?—, but Kuhn obviously hadn’t grown accustomed to this habit just yet.
Maybe it’s me that needs to mind how I talk, not him. Renier tapped the back of Kuhn’s hand and gently consoled him, saying,
“Do you want me to tell you a story?”
“……Mm. Um, very well. That would be nice.”
The simple-minded fool failed to hide the smile that his mouth had broken into. Are you really just happy that you get to hear the legends, or are you happy that you get to talk to me for a little while longer? Why would you be so openly happy about something like that? Can’t you just end things with being grateful if you’re acting like this because I saved your life?
“You want me to tell you a story even though you aren’t a little kid? I have to tell you a bedtime story even though I’m not even your mom?”
Renier grumbled before she realized what she’d said and immediately shut her mouth. She didn’t want to watch Kuhn’s blindfold grow moist again. The boy smiled gently as if to say that he was okay.
“My mother only knew short ballads and tales. And she only knew three of them. Listening to the same stories every night was rather boring.”
“…….”
“But I suppose I’ll never be able to hear them again now. I would’ve told her that they were fun every night if I’d known this would happen.”
Renier slowly nodded back. She pitied him more because he sounded so calm. He was openly happy when she offered him a word of comfort, and he grew obviously dispirited when she was curt with him, and he reminded her of a large puppy who was looking only to his owner.
Developing any kind of feelings for someone was a truly bothersome thing.
It was bothersome, cumbersome, difficult, and sometimes……it was painful.
Why on earth did I save you?
Renier squirmed for a moment because she felt like she was choking. Crackle, crackle —a quiet voice seeped in between the crackling of the fire.
“Tell me the legends of the Golden Forest. Tell me about the place you’re from.”
“…….”
“Tell me the story that you say is long, entertaining, awful, and sad.”
“……A long, long time ago, just after the great and terrible gods had created the world…”
Renier lied down on her stomach on top of her wool blanket and began whispering her tale. Kuhn’s winding hair was scattered before her eyes. His rough and dark rust-colored hair now reminded her of the color the warm and fertile earth.
She gently stroked his hair. A gentle wave seemed to course through his field and crash against her in that moment. Her throat hurt. It hurt so much.
“A lone tree sprung up from Enki’s, the master of the life tree and the earth, bellybutton.”
It looked like the fire had burned away all the metal poison, considering that it hadn’t killed him. And Renier felt like the rascal was beginning to breathe a little easier as his fever slowly began to break on the second day.
A faint light fell into the cave. The sunlight only entered the chamber where Kuhn was staying briefly during daybreak.
“Ugh, it’s so cold. Did the fire go out? ……Is it morning already?”
Renier, who had fallen asleep while crouching in front of Kuhn, startled as she stood up and stretched.
“W-when did you get up?”
Kuhn was sitting up. He looked gaunt, but his face was no longer red from fever and the vigor was beginning to return to his countenance. He turned to where he could hear Renier’s voice coming from and chuckled soundlessly.
“Just earlier. I was waiting for you to wake.”
Renier felt a little dazed as she watched him laugh. He looked a little awkward and embarrassed, perhaps because he didn’t laugh often. But he was pleasant to look at because his bashful embarrassment suited his awkward laughter well.
To be honest, Renier wished that the Southlanders inside the cave could be even half as good-looking as Kuhn was. Seeing him laugh made her realize that the Northlanders weren’t as ugly as she’d originally thought.
And then, Renier suddenly realized why Kuhn looked so different. The contempt that he had been wearing even just a few days ago had been wiped cleanly from his features. The boy’s features looked soft and innocent now that the cold, hard, and composed air had left him.
“May I…have you hand for a moment?”
he asked gingerly, perhaps because he was embarrassed. Renier quietly held out her hand, and Kuhn lowered his head as he squeezed her hand tight. The boy squirmed for quite some time before he seemed to choke up a little and mumbled,
“……It’s very small.”
Truly, the Northlanders had a very strange way of expressing their gratitude. Kuhn didn’t let go of Renier’s hand for a very long time. Even after their palms grew damp from moisture.
***
Renier finally began bringing back her wine and meat and sharing them with the rest of the people inside the cave now that Kuhn had regained consciousness. She also gave Kuhn some meat with a few sprigs of medicinal herbs and boiled some of her precious lard with powdered grains and rock salt for him to eat.
He hadn’t been able to eat anything solid on the first day after he had woken up, but he had heartily begun eating meat after the second. This was the first time in Renier’s life that she had ever seen anyone eating meat so well when they were supposed to be bedridden.
The problem, however, was that Kuhn was eating too well. Renier began giving him her share of food as well because it looked like he didn’t have enough. The dull boy ate his meat heartily without realizing that he was eating Renier’s dinner too. Renier realized anew that the Northlanders really were beastmen as she watched him breathe out hot breaths and rip apart the meat like a lion or a panther even though it wasn’t very salted and was so hard that people might dislocate their jaw while eating it if they weren’t careful.
“That ingrateful little piece of shit’s eating up the brat’s dinner too. Looks like it’s true when they say that animals don’t know what it means to be grateful. Hey, brat! Be careful, will you? The bastard might even eat you if he gets hungry enough,”
Sedek grumbled as he walked past. That fucking piece of shit! And who exactly has been stealing all my meat again?! Renier glared back at him, but he had already walked away. Kuhn dropped the piece of meat he’d been holding into his bowl.
“Was this supposed to be yours?”
“No. That’s just something I didn’t finish eating. I don’t really eat that much.”
“Don’t lie. I heard strange noises coming from your stomach just now.”
“Seriously, why’d my stupid stomach have to go and rumble now of all times?”
Kuhn estimated where Renier was from the direction her grumbling was coming from and did his best to smile.
“……I am sorry. I didn’t know because I couldn’t see. Eat.”
He was so stubborn about the most pointless things. He was just about as obstinate as the leg tendons of a lion were tough. The piece of meat that he’d placed back inside his bowl stayed there until the next morning when it ended up in Sedek’s mouth.
Renier wanted to beat both of the bastards to death.
***
“So, why the hell will you only agree to go outside with Mr. Sedek of all people? Tell me, why don’t you?”
Renier had been enduring and enduring, and she exploded when she could endure no more. Renier, who had been robbed by Sedek of a fatty piece of boar meat began grilling Kuhn about his ‘shitting problem.’
Kuhn spent most of his time lying down in his chamber, but the one time he got up and went outside every day was when he had to relieve himself. He was so obedient when it came to everything else, but this was the only thing that made him hop with rage whenever Renier tried to be the one to take him outside.
And so, Renier had no choice but bring Sedek, whom she despised like he was her mortal enemy, a big pile of boar lard and skin every day and ask him about ‘you know what.’ She couldn’t simply refuse to let a healthy young man relieve himself no matter how irritated she was. Still, she couldn’t help but curse whenever she thought about all the perfectly good lumps of lard she was losing every day because of the vexing fool.
“You fucking piece of shit. I had to give away some of my precious lard again today —and they’re worth their weight in gold! You heard that? Who told you I was interested in watching you shit? I said that I’d turn around and just hold onto the rope! Okay? Just so that you can’t run away! Just the rope!”
“I-I’ll repay you for the lard. I-I’ll catch you some boars and repay you tenfold —no, hundredfold.”
“I don’t need it! Why the hell aren’t you okay with going with me when you’re okay with that bastard Sedek?”
“W-well, that’s, it’s because I haven’t come of age yet. Right, that’s why.”
Kuhn’s voice suddenly grew as quiet as a mosquito’s wings. Renier tilted her head to the side.
“……What does that have anything to do with anything?”
“Well, i-in my household, men and women do everything separately until we come of age. Actually, any household in the Northlands that keeps to the proper traditions would do at least that much…….”
“And so what? Does this date all the way back to when Lord Enki used to play with dirt or something?”
Renier, who had been yelling at Kuhn in her grumpiness, suddenly snapped her mouth shut.
Oh, aha? Is he just embarrassed to go with me because I’m a girl?
Renier was astounded, so she grabbed him by the cheeks and growled,
“Aha —I was wondering why you were whining so much without being able to read the damn room properly, but it turns out it’s because you having come of age yet! Did you already forget who exactly it was that stripped you naked every day to treat your leg and wash you up? How old were you again? How are you ever going to get married when you’re so immature?”
Kuhn was sweating buckets of cold sweat as he struggled to answer Renier’s three ‘questions.’
“I will never forget that it was you, who lives inside this divine stone cave, who treated my leg and bathed me. I am sixteen years old, as I’ve already told you on the day we first met, and I will turn seventeen soon. And, while I don’t know by whose standards you are judging my maturity, I am perfectly able to be wed because my skills as a warrior were acknowledged as being that of an adult’s after I hunted a sabretooth tiger by myself when I was ten. I simply…I simply pushed back the matter of my marriage until after I came of age because I was too young to be wed. I will be able to hold my wedding and become the respected head of my own household once the spring equinox passes and I have my coming-of-age ceremony.”
Renier took her hands off his cheeks and scrutinized him up and down. She didn’t feel like arguing with him anymore after seeing how red he was in not only both his cheeks but also all the way down his neck and listening to his stupid reply.
Yeah, whatever. It’s probably easier to get my hands on more lard than it will be trying to persuade you.
Renier gave up and stepped back, and Kuhn huddled his shoulders and gauged her reaction as he began rubbing his nose. He rubbed so hard that his nose was turning bright red. It looked like this was something he did out of habit whenever he was embarrassed, but his nose was getting so red that Renier was almost worried that he might actually rub through his skin.
“Hey, your nose is super red right now. It looks like the nose of a newborn puppy! It’s really cute!”
Renier stuck out her tongue and giggled. Then, Kuhn angrily turned around and said,
“You are being rude. I am not ‘cute.’ I am a warrior who hunted a sabretooth tiger by myself when I was only ten.”
The way he was trying to make himself seem more mature was adorable too. Renier suddenly wanted to see the rascal’s face not from inside the cave under the dim moonlight but properly from outside under the sun.
She especially wanted to see his eyes, which were hidden under his blindfold. What did they look like when he smiled, and what did they look like when he frowned? She even entertained the ridiculous notion that the color of his eyes was probably cute as well.
***
‘What a catch. Hehe, this is the perfect opportunity.’
Sedek and the other grave robbers were howling with delight. They’d thought that they would all be doomed to starve helplessly to death, unable to survive the winter, but their fortunes had suddenly flipped on its head —this was truly a gift of grace from the gods.
The brat kept his promise faithfully. He diligently went out to hunt or set traps every morning and came back with something edible in the evening without fail, and if he couldn’t hunt enough, then he’d bring the salted and dried meat that he’d stowed away in his secret storages. Then, the brat and the Northlander would prepare the meat quickly and shared fist-sized chunks of meat with everyone.
Naturally, the dinners weren’t nearly enough for twelve grave robbers to eat until they were full. There would’ve been so much more food if even just one or two of the grave robbers accompanied the brat to hunt and help corner the prey or shoot down any startled birds or rabbits, but they opted to beat up the brat grumble about not having enough food instead.
The beatings happened every night without fail when there wasn’t enough meat to go around. Fast horses ran even faster when they were whipped, so they believed that beating up the skilled hunter would somehow make him bring back even just one more bird.
After all, some people existed to supply and others existed to consume, and the brat had no grounds to be upset about the injustice of it all because it had been the great gods themselves who had dictated it thus. Sedek offered a prayer of thanksgiving every evening to the gods who had sent him the brat, who was skilled at hunting, and the bumbling Northlander.
“Fuck, this isn’t what you promised —I’m gonna starve to death at this rate! This is fucking tiny! Huh?!”
It happened today, too. The bastards who were still hungry after eating their dinner dragged out the brat, who had been chatting away with the damned Northlander while sharing a tiny piece of meat with him, and slapped the brat across the face while picking faults with him and spitting curses at him.
It was the young man whom everyone called Kish because he hailed from Kish City in the West that led the charge. Normally, the brat wouldn’t have simply let someone hit him and get away with it, but he had no choice but to take it quietly even as he was slapped across the face and kicked in the stomach because he had to protect the hostage behind him.
“Stay there and don’t move a muscle, Kuhn! Don’t come out! I’ll be the first to kill you if you do,”
the brat yelled at the Northlander behind him before curling up into a ball instead of fighting back.
A few of the veteran grave robbers who knew just how dreadfully dexterous the brat was stayed in the back and didn’t lay a finger on the brat directly. It was only the newcomers who had started living in the cave just a few months ago who beat him. But the veterans did nothing to stop them. After all, they could reap the benefits without having to lay a finger on the brat this way.
The large boy, who had been grinning like a fool just moments ago, turned around and covered his ears when the brat yelled at him sharply. He ignored the fact that his own savior was being beaten black and blue right before his nose and simply quivered as he pressed against his ears so hard that the veins on the back of his hands were popping out and turning red.
The brat got up immediately, brushed himself off, and blew the blood out of his nose as soon as the beatings stopped, but the Northlander boy kept his back turned and simply quivered inside the small chamber all night long.
Sedek had initially been wary that the Northlander bastard might run away or use that monstrous strength of his to cause mayhem inside the cave, but seeing just how servile he was made Sedek lower his guard.
The bastard was a gentle coward who didn’t have an ounce of the virile guts that the terrifying rumors suggested that all beastmen had. He was large and looked scary, but he was as docile as the eunuchs who stood quietly next to the kings they served. Moreover, he truly hadn’t so much as touched the blindfold covering his eyes all week long because the brat had told him not to —though Sedek didn’t know whether this was because the Northlander was obedient or simply just that stupid.
“Weren’t Northlanders supposed to be scary? Ridiculous. Pay up, you pathetic bastard.”
“The bastards who live in Salt Mountain are the ingrateful descendants of the man-eating eagle. It fits them to the tee. But the Northlander’s mouth seems to be working perfectly fine, at least, since he keeps shamelessly packing away all the meat the brat brings him.”
The grave robbers constantly spat at the Northlander or nudged him with their toes whenever they walked past him. But the bastard only continued lying down while facing the wall and didn’t react.
Then again… What could he possibly do even if he was angry?
There were twelve grave robbers and only one of him. He was also bedridden and couldn’t even sit up by himself. He couldn’t even walk by himself and had to crawl outside to do his business if no one helped him, perhaps because he could no longer use the leg that had been injured by the bronze spear. He couldn’t even get outside of the cave by himself, much less actually fight back.
“Hey, gather around, everyone.”
Sedek cast a sidelong glance at Kuhn, who was snoring away, as he gathered the grave robbers together with his eyes. The grave robbers who’d been crawling around nearby quietly made their way over to him. Sedek continued,
“Let’s get rid of that thing once it looks like the brat doesn’t have any more meat stowed away. The brat must be stupid or something.”
“I know, right? Does he think that the beastman is really human like the rest of us? The brat’s going to be the first to get killed if he calls the others here.”
“Exactly. It’s best to get rid of anything that might cause trouble in the future. Keeps things nice and simple.”
They were all thinking more or less along the same lines. They had all forgotten that it was none other than the brat himself who had been living in the divine stone cave the longest and was the most veteran amongst all of them.
“Well, it should be simple enough to just push the bastard over the cliff when he goes out to do his business.”
“It should only take a few more people since he can’t even walk properly.”
Their discussions wrapped up quickly because they were all of a similar opinion. They were all vigorously calculating just how much longer they could keep taking meat from the brat.
It’d be nice if they could keep leeching off the brat for another week or ten days. It’d be spring again soon enough, and then it’d get easier to find food again. Sedek turned to Kuhn, who was snoring away inside his small chamber, and quietly whispered,
“But it bothers me that the little brat’s been getting so close to that Northlander lately.”
“Crazy little shit. How could he make friends with a beastmen just because they’re around the same age?”
“It’s because he’s just a little kid. And they aren’t even the same age. The brat’s like, what, twelve? Thirteen? He probably wanted to know what it’s like to have a brother. Shit, I don’t even know how old the damned brat is, now that I think about it.”
“The spiteful little brat’s gonna lose his shit if he finds out that we got rid of the Northlander.”
“That’s only if he finds out. We just gotta make sure he doesn’t,”
the young man from Kish City said carelessly. Then again, he has a point. Besides, who cares even if the brat finds out? It’s not like he’d gonna come kill the lot of us just because we killed the bastard he worked so hard to save. The Northlander was supposed to have croaked in the snow a long time ago anyway.
Damn, the Northlander should just be grateful that he even gets to live another one or two weeks.
Sedek cast a sidelong glance at Kuhn as he stood up. It was only fools who thought long and hard today about things they were to do tomorrow. The large Northlander boy was still fast asleep without a single care in the world, and it was still snowing heavily outside the cave.
***
“Ugh, shit, seriously —screw this all. To think there’d even come a day when I ventured out into a blizzard just to hunt so I can feed those grave-robbing assholes some meat. And all that just to save some Northlander bastard who isn’t even cute. Hmph. I must’ve lost my mind. And why isn’t this damned snow stopping when it’s already been two weeks? Is the great Enlil already suffering from dementia or something? He opened up a hole in the sky and totally just forgot about it, didn’t he? You should be patching up the skies in your father’s place if your father’s got dementia, o Ishkur of storms. You guys up there need to stop sleeping on the job for the rest of us to be able to survive down here. Fuck, you need to at least give it a break so the snow can melt!”
Renier grumbled without pause as she climbed her way up to the cave. It was hard enough just to walk in the snow because it came all the way up to her knees, and having to hunt in this weather made her want to kill herself.
She had been lucky on the first day because a small boar had run head-first into one of her traps and its meat had lasted several days, but it was usually smaller creatures, like starved rabbits, weasels, badgers, or partridges, that she found in her traps instead. She considered herself incredibly lucky if a stupid wolf got caught in one of her traps.
She had little other choice if she couldn’t catch enough meat. She either had to bring back some of her precious dried meat to make up for it, or she had to let herself get beaten up like she had yesterday. Renier genuinely considered, ‘I’m going to season their meat in piss next time,’ every time the assholes beat her.
Only four rabbits had been caught in her traps today. With little other choice, Renier had upturned a rock that she had marked in advance and fished out seven snakes and three frogs that had been hibernating beneath it. This was probably just about enough. It was all she had caught today, but the day was already beginning to grow dark.
“You’re here?”
Kuhn turned around and rejoiced when he heard the sound of Renier’s footsteps. Renier smirked when she saw how upright his posture was as he sat up.
According to what Sedek and some of the other grave robbers said as they sneered, Kuhn lied down on top of Renier’s wool blanket like a housedog all day long and only got up to begin ‘dolling himself up(?)’ when it was about time for Renier to come back with all the critters she had hunted that day.
He brushed through his disheveled hair with his fingers, washed his hands and face with a dirty rag and some melted snow, and if he had the time to spare, he straightened out his wrinkled clothes and undid the knots in his kaunakes in order to make himself more presentable. Renier had to admit that thinking about how he fumbled around to make himself look presentable when he couldn’t even see was pretty funny.
“I’m glad you’re back. ……Er, ahem. You’ve worked hard today too.”
He rejoiced openly whenever Renier came back, and then he would force himself to make a serious expression in order to hide his embarrassment whenever he realized just how awkwardly he was acting. Renier truly couldn’t bear to look at him directly whenever he made that face. It was too funny, especially when paired with his weirdly old-fashioned manner of speaking, and she was afraid that she might actually die laughing.
Sure, I’ll bear with all of it. It’s not easy to save a person’s life. Renier was glad that he was blindfolded, because it meant that he couldn’t see the scowl on her face.
Renier sat down and pried off her shoes and feet wraps, which were drenched from the snow, and Kuhn brought them over by the fire to dry and massaged her feet for a long time to help them warm up. He claimed that this was a secret technique of the warriors of the Northlands that prevented one’s feet from getting frostbite.
It had nauseated Renier and she had hated it at first, but it was tolerable now. Actually, it wasn’t that bad at all. His hands were large, thick, and rough, but they were also warm, and more importantly, his touch was impossibly gentle and heartfelt. Renier felt like her entire being might warm up if he massaged her like this all night long.
“How are you feeling today?”
“I’m all better now. I’m well enough to hunt with you. Fine me Urtur……my axe.”
Why does he have to spring this on me as soon as I’m back? He wants his axe?
“What makes you think you’re anywhere near well enough to hunt? You’re still boiling with fever.”
“My fever has broken. And, did I not tell you before? I am skilled at hunting. I’m stronger than a sabretooth tiger and faster than an elk, and I can even climb up the cliff we’re on as weightlessly as a bird. I’ve even hunted a sabretooth tiger that was taller than two grown men standing foot to shoulder by myself. His fang reached all the way up to my waist when I wrenched it out.”
Sure —look, I know that you’re a beastman without you needing to go out of your way to tell me all that. Renier held back her anger as she consoled the boy, saying,
“I don’t need you worrying about me if that’s why you’re saying this. I’m really okay. People getting beat up is pretty much a daily thing here in the divine stone caves.”
“I’m not all right with this. I’ll help you hunt, so find me my axe. And let me take off the blindfold.”
“I can’t do that. They’ll kill you instantly if they ever find out that you’ve seen their faces and you know where the cave is.”
“Can that not be solved by simply getting rid of them?”
“……Are you insane?”
“Those people deserve to die. They’ve trespassed onto lands that don’t belong to them, dug up people’s graves, disturbed the rest of the dead, and even damages their corpses. Every tribe in the Northlands believes that anyone who dares disturb our forefathers’ rest and violate their corpses deserves death, no matter who they are. It is not something that we will ever forgive.”
Then, Kuhn fell into thought for quite some time before he quietly continued,
“But very well. I gave you my word, so I will go out and hunt without seeing your face. Nor will I run away.”
“And how do you expect me to believe that? I’m finished if you decide not to return. The others will murder me and flee to another mine.”
“I swear that I will return without fail. I will swear this upon the name of my forefather.”
“Your forefather? The man-eating eagle?”
His vows suddenly lost their credibility. Kuhn fell silent, as if he’d been offended, before he began rummaging around his chest and pulled something out from his clothes.
“I’ll leave this behind with you if you still can’t trust me. Will you trust me then?”
“What’s that even supposed to be?”
“The heart of my forefather.”
Renier accepted it, looked back at Kuhn, touched the object she was holding, and looked back at Kuhn again.
“……I’m pretty sure this is just a rock?”
“It’s a heart! My father told me in no uncertain terms that this was the withered up heart of our forefather, the Great Eagle! The heart is only passed down between the heads of my household, and it’s the greatest treasure of all the Northlands!”
Do you beastmen turn into rocks after you die?
……Then again, I can’t say for certain that the inside of your head ins’t any different from a rock right now.
It wasn’t possible to persuade a rock. And so, Renier had no choice but to resort to blackmail once again.
“I think you’re forgetting something important here, Kuhn, but you’re my prisoner before you’re my patient, got that? You’re not allowed to leave the cave without my permission. And you swore on Lord Utu’s name that you’d listen to everything I say. Right?”
“……I did.”
“Stop bringing that up if you understand now. And help me skin this.”
Kuhn pouted, but he ultimately fell silent. It was so easy to handle the rough bastard because he immediately stopped struggling and hung his tail between his legs as soon as she reminded him that ‘you swore on Lord Utu’s name.’ It was a good thing when people were pious, regardless of which god they worshiped. ……It made them easier to deal with.
Kuhn stopped pressing his case and took the bronze shard that Renier had given him, grinded it against a rock, and began skinning the rabbits and snakes.
Renier quietly clicked her tongue. He was working blind and only by using his sense of touch, but he was still several times faster than the dim-witted grave robbers. He was so adept at observing his surroundings that he had learned how to tell when Renier was coming back by the sound of her footsteps alone in just two days. Even Renier, who had keen senses herself, could not help but marvel in amazement.
“Er, well…there’s something I’d like to ask you,”
he said as he worked with his hands. He looked taciturn, but he was actually rather curious and had a lot he wanted to say.
“Sure. What is it?”
“What did you catch today?”
“……Can’t you tell by touching it?”
But everything he said tended to lack substance.
“Well, yes. Snakes and rabbits. Are the rabbits brown or white?”
“Who cares? Everything I caught today is the same color as shit. Does knowing that make it taste any better?”
“Er, no, it doesn’t. How many did you catch?”
“Can’t you count that yourself?! Just count them! One, two, three, four!”
“I-I see. Four rabbits, and seven snakes. Um, what did you use to hunt them? A stone-sling? Or a bow, perhaps? Do you know how to use a bow? Are you adept at it? Which animal’s tendons do you use for the bowstring?”
“You think I’ve been prancing around shooting arrows when there’s a blizzard outside and the snow’s piled all the way up to my knees? Traps —I laid traps, okay?! Going around and checking all of them is a hard day’s work too. Damnit all!”
“H-how many?”
“Gods damnit! A hundred —happy now?!”
Kuhn always looked like he impatiently wanted to say something whenever Renier sat down next to him. But it wasn’t as if he was praising her for being good at hunting, and he was such a poor conversationalist that he only continued to lose points with her as he rambled on. Renier would give him 7~8 points if he simply sat there without saying anything, but her evaluation of him dropped to just 2 points as soon as he opened his mouth —on a scale of 100.
“Are you hungry? Have some more of this. It’s difficult to chase down animals in the snow.”
Kuhn slyly passed Renier the piece of meat he had been eating. Renier frowned. Don’t suck on bones that you’ve picked clean while I’m watching if you’re going to say something like that! And don’t listen in so closely to the sound of me eating either!
“Hmm. T-the grave robbers had another brawl over the divine stones again today. But, it’s strange.”
Kuhn recalled everything that had happened inside the divine stone cave during the day and quietly told Renier what had happened. He was eerily good and remembering anything he considered important. He’d gather up everything he didn’t understand and ask Renier about them later while counting them off on his fingers. But, so much of what he didn’t understand were things that Renier didn’t quite understand either.
“Do Southlanders and Westerners not fear death?”
“Bullshit —of course they’re afraid of dying.”
“Then, why do they continue to trespass on foreign lands and dig up stones? Surely, they’re aware that we, the masters of this land, detest this? And that they will die if we catch them?”
“It’s because digging up even a single fist-sized divine stone is enough to turn their fortune completely around. They can just walk up to the Golden Forest with the divine stone and name their price. The priests of the Golden Forest are basically walking corpses without them, you see.”
“Divine stones aren’t used to save lives.”
Argh, can’t you tell when I’m using a figure of speech? Renier pondered for a moment before she gave up and decided to explain herself instead.
“I meant that the priests of the Golden Forest can’t do anything without the divine stones.”
“Then they simply shouldn’t.”
“……Even when the priests can draw power from the divine stones to start fires, summon the rain, lift up heavy objects and make them float in the air, and kill people with blades of wind?”
“You can just use flint to start fires, draw water up from a water vein if it doesn’t rain, use a cart, pulley, or a sky chariot to move heavy objects, and kill people with an ordinary knife, arrow, or axe.”
“…….”
“You can go and tell the priests of the Golden Forest this. They needn’t do anything. Why do they keeping sending people here to die?”
“Are you crazy?! Why the hell would I go there?! I ran away from that place……I mean, the Southlands because of how much I suffered there!”
Renier yelped back in fright. Kuhn froze up for a moment.
“Are you a runaway slave, perhaps? Are you from the Golden Forest?”
“Shut up!”
Renier shouted as she freaked out. No one’s found out about that until now, so why are you so pointlessly good at guessing about these things? She continued,
“Anyway, I’d rather die than go to the Golden Forest. Fuck the Golden Forest, fuck the tree goddess they worship there, fuck the Guardian of the Forest, and especially fuck the gods-damned priests. Descendants of the Celestials? Bullshit. If you want to tell them so badly, then go and tell them yourself.”
“Oh, is that so? Likewise! I feel the same. I also detest the priests of the Golden Forest. They’re the true thieves who instigate the divine stone robbers from behind the scenes.”
“Stop being so openly happy about having something in common with me, damnit!”
Renier looked up at the heavens took a resolute breath. Great Enlil, Nanna, Enki, and Ninhursag. I really wanted to be nice to this pitiful boy. Okay? I really did. It would’ve been so much easier if we ended up beating each other up because he didn’t listen to me, but here he is clinging to me like he’s some kind of puppy —no, puppies are supposed to be small and cute—, he’s clinging to me despite how big he is and either wagging his tail happily or getting wet ears with every word I say, and it’s really, really getting exhausting and hard to deal with. Okay?
“The priests of the Golden Forest really hate you Northlanders too. Do you know what their wish is? It’s to wipe out all the people who live on Salt Mountain. Though I guess the feeling’s mutual.”
“It’s not mutual. It is just for us to take vengeance on those who invade our lands —and the sacred graves of our forefathers especially—, but the priests of the Golden Forest are simply angry that we are getting in the way of their thievery. Not only are they shameless and brazen, but they want to annihilate my tribe too? What kind of foul nonsense is that supposed to be? I’ll murder the lot of them.”
“You’re right. It’s nonsense. You really should just go and murder the lot of them. I bet the gods will reward you for it too.”
Renier giggled refreshingly, and the simple-minded boy tilted his head in bafflement for a very long time. Then, he began saying entirely the wrong thing again.
“Those bastards call me offensive names.”
“Yeah? What do they call you?”
“They address me as a beast, pig, or dog whenever you aren’t present.”
Huh? W-well, it is true that you eat a lot……. Renier only just managed to keep herself from bursting out in laughter and spun her reply in an attempt to offend the rascal as little as possible.
“They say that because you’re a beastman. I mean, ‘beast’ is already in the name…….”
“Who said I didn’t know that?! Have you been treating me like an actual pig as well?”
Kuhn suddenly raised his voice. Renier quickly shut her mouth, but Kuhn seemed to have been truly offended this time, judging by how he wasn’t lowering his volume. He continued,
“We do not think of ourselves as genuine beasts. Besides, it’s they who are base, vulgar, and dishonorable like beasts, judging by what they’ve been saying. What is it exactly about your people that makes you better than us?!”
“Oh…….”
“Can’t you tell just by looking at me?! Have you ever seen a beast speak? Have you ever seen a beast light a fire and wear clothes and shoes made from beast skin? We can erect houses that are multiple stories tall, create altars ten times a man’s height, dig canals from which to drink water, and smelt copper and tin together to forge powerful weapons. Even I know how to forge my own weapons! So, what I’m trying to say is —why is it that you refuse to see us for who we are and conclude, baselessly, that we’re nothing but beasts?!”
“Shut up! Hey, brat! Make your dog shut his damn maw!”
Sedek yelled from somewhere behind them. Shh, Renier placed her finger over Kuhn’s mouth and quietly asked,
“Are you a blacksmith, Kuhn?”
“No, but Elder Simug —my nanny’s husband, that is— is the best smith in all the Northlands, and he taught me how to forge sturdy weapons, plate metal armor, and helmets. The knives and axes I’ve forged are capable of shattering the shields of the Southlands and the West.”
Renier opened her eyes wide. Smiths who knew how to forge weapons and plate metal armor were highly sought after in the Southlands, West, and East. Each respective city regarded the alloy ratio of copper and tin that was the best for making sturdy weapons as confidential information, and not even kings or their ministers could dare to be rude to a blacksmith who knew that information.
If what Kuhn said was true, than his tribe —or perhaps all the Northlands— had equal or even superior metalsmithing technology than even the most developed cities in the Southlands.
“Sure sounds like it. It looks like I’ve been mistaken too.”
“…….”
“Your ancestor shows up for a bit in the legends of the Golden Forest in the Southlands. The beastmen of the Whitesalt Mountains, and your Salt Mountain Tribe in particular, are the descendants of the man-eating eagle who ate even his wife who gave birth to his own children, and the legends say that the man-eating eagle’s descendants still possess the eagle’s barbaric nature.”
The ingrateful descendants of the man-eating eagle, the beastmen who are still bestial in nature —Renier, too, had believed in the legends blindly, much like the rest of the Southlanders. Renier placed her hands over the back of Kuhn’s hand and quietly whispered,
“I misunderstood your people because of the legends I was taught in the Golden Forest. I’ll stop believing in them now. I’m really sorry.”
Renier was sincere in her apology. Her attitude had grown rough and her manner of speech vulgar because she hadn’t wanted to let herself be pushed around by the grave robbers while she was living in the cave, but Renier had always been honest in nature, and she had never been the type of person who was unable to apologize to someone because of pride after she had upset them. She was quick to notice when someone was unhappy, and she was also quick to realize her mistakes and apologize for them.
Kuhn mellowed when he heard the sincerity in her apology. He was still breathing heavily, but he took his voice down a few notches in volume as he began explaining about his people.
“I never meant to deny the fact that the man-eating eagle was my forefather. Nor was I trying to deny that the fact that we Northlanders were once barbaric like beasts long ago. But we’re people now, and we are no different from you. The men of the Northlands know how to love their wives, respect their elders, and cherish their friends and children. And we are not ingrateful. We never forget our debts or grudges, and we always repay both in full. We regard upholding justice and protecting our honor as being more important than life itself.”
“Yeah, yeah. I was just telling you what the legends say. I’m sorry I upset you.”
“……Y-you need only apologize once. I’m no longer upset.”
He wriggled his fingers as he continued mumbling,
“In any event, do the legends of the Golden Forest truly mention our forefather?”
“They mention the man-eating eagle, but only for a little bit.”
“……Is the legend of my forefather entertaining?”
“It is, but it’s also very long, very awful, and very sad. It’d probably take me all night long to tell it to you, I think?”
Kuhn furrowed his brows ever so slightly.
“You remember the legends of the Golden Forest?”
“Of course I do. I remember every last sentence. I used to be called a ‘memory whiz’ in my village when I was a kid.”
“A memory whiz? That’s remarkable. ……I envy you.”
Kuhn suddenly slumped his shoulders and sounded dispirited. The bastard hadn’t even huffed, much less actually be impressed, even when Renier had come back with a boar, and this was the first time he had shown Renier his amazement.
“There’s nothing to be envious about. I used to be summoned all over the place just to get beaten up all the time because of it.”
“I wish I could remember anything I’ve heard once just like you can, even if it means getting beaten for it often.”
He sounded so sad and eager as he sighed that Renier couldn’t help but giggle.
It wasn’t easy to remember something important for a very long time. The world was overflowing with people who went back on their promises and conveniently ignored their monetary debts. Slaves were always branded by their masters’ seal, but people had no choice but to bring lots of witnesses and make visible markings when they were trading large quantities of cows and sheep, land, houses, burial caves, or fishing boats.
It was the brightest children of the village who tended to suffer whenever these large transactions took place. They were dragged to the situs without knowing why and slapped across the face after being made to memorize the contents of the contract and repeat them multiple times over. Supposedly, the pain was supposed to help them remember the contract for a very long time so that they could be called to testify(?) if deemed necessary. Renier had been dragged all over the place and slapped frequently because she had a good memory.
But it had its benefits too. People often brought ‘memory whizzes’ with them to temples or invited them to the homes of the wealthy if a vagabond was visiting and had fun stories to tell. Then, the rest of the villagers would be able to hear the stories from the children whenever they pleased.
“Huwaaah, I’m sleepy. You’re probably sleepy too, Kuhn —hurry up and go to bed.”
Renier yawned as she lied down in front of Kuhn when Kuhn stammered,
“Er, um. I’m not tired.”
“Makes sense, since you’ve been napping all day long. ……So what am I supposed to do about it?”
Renier grumbled coarsely out of habit, like she was bickering with the grave robbers, before she quickly shut her mouth. It meant that Kuhn was upset when his large frame seemed to wither up and his shoulders sagged. Renier could help but feel sorry when she thought about how he was forcing himself to stay lying down as he waited for her all day long.
Renier had formed the habit of always adding thorns to her words because she had to be spiteful and react strongly if she didn’t want the grave robbers to make light of her —who knew what they’d do to her if she appeared even a little weak before them?—, but Kuhn obviously hadn’t grown accustomed to this habit just yet.
Maybe it’s me that needs to mind how I talk, not him. Renier tapped the back of Kuhn’s hand and gently consoled him, saying,
“Do you want me to tell you a story?”
“……Mm. Um, very well. That would be nice.”
The simple-minded fool failed to hide the smile that his mouth had broken into. Are you really just happy that you get to hear the legends, or are you happy that you get to talk to me for a little while longer? Why would you be so openly happy about something like that? Can’t you just end things with being grateful if you’re acting like this because I saved your life?
“You want me to tell you a story even though you aren’t a little kid? I have to tell you a bedtime story even though I’m not even your mom?”
Renier grumbled before she realized what she’d said and immediately shut her mouth. She didn’t want to watch Kuhn’s blindfold grow moist again. The boy smiled gently as if to say that he was okay.
“My mother only knew short ballads and tales. And she only knew three of them. Listening to the same stories every night was rather boring.”
“…….”
“But I suppose I’ll never be able to hear them again now. I would’ve told her that they were fun every night if I’d known this would happen.”
Renier slowly nodded back. She pitied him more because he sounded so calm. He was openly happy when she offered him a word of comfort, and he grew obviously dispirited when she was curt with him, and he reminded her of a large puppy who was looking only to his owner.
Developing any kind of feelings for someone was a truly bothersome thing.
It was bothersome, cumbersome, difficult, and sometimes……it was painful.
Why on earth did I save you?
Renier squirmed for a moment because she felt like she was choking. Crackle, crackle —a quiet voice seeped in between the crackling of the fire.
“Tell me the legends of the Golden Forest. Tell me about the place you’re from.”
“…….”
“Tell me the story that you say is long, entertaining, awful, and sad.”
“……A long, long time ago, just after the great and terrible gods had created the world…”
Renier lied down on her stomach on top of her wool blanket and began whispering her tale. Kuhn’s winding hair was scattered before her eyes. His rough and dark rust-colored hair now reminded her of the color the warm and fertile earth.
She gently stroked his hair. A gentle wave seemed to course through his field and crash against her in that moment. Her throat hurt. It hurt so much.
“A lone tree sprung up from Enki’s, the master of the life tree and the earth, bellybutton.”
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