A Rat Among Us
Does a life need a crisis?
It does not. Please. Don't let anything like that come.
Juhwan sat with his back against a wagon wheel, let his head rest on the wagon, and closed his eyes. Somewhere he had read that a person spent a surprising amount of energy simply by looking—that the eyes took in far more information than anyone realized. Perhaps that was why shutting them whenever he had a spare moment seemed to take the edge off his exhaustion.
How long are they going to keep dogging us?
There had been another bandit raid in the night. This time it was the trading company at the very rear of the train. The rest had been spared.
Strange.
Theirs was not the only company that had gone days without an attack. Even so, something about it snagged at him, the same prickling he felt when unseen eyes were on his back.
Because we have a mage?
In the whole merchant train, this was the only company traveling with one. Maybe the bandits knew that, and that was why they—
But it's strange that bandits would know a thing like that.
Yes. It was definitely strange.
Still leaning against the wagon, Juhwan opened his eyes. Unlike the ground, the sky was quiet. A little while ago it had been pitch-black; already it had thinned to the color of ink loosened in water. Once daylight came, the bandits did not attack. People who had grown used to that fact over the past few days began to stir in a disordered rush. All along the train they checked wagons for broken boards and stolen goods, sorted the wounded, and loaded them onto carts. Those already close to death were being handled like corpses.
Juhwan got up and looked for Leonard, master of the company. Leonard was staring in the direction the bandits had vanished, sunk in thought. Should he interrupt? He hesitated, and in that moment several wagons from another company farther ahead broke away from the column. Leonard's gaze swung after them.
Juhwan took a few steps toward him as he made to move.
"What is it?"
Juhwan had thought he hadn't been noticed. Leonard turned his head and asked outright. Juhwan stepped in close and lowered his voice so no one else would hear.
"Something's wrong. We're the only ones who haven't been attacked."
Leonard's eyes fixed on his face, sharp as a leopard's with prey in front of it. He wasn't suspecting him, was he? Juhwan met that look and went on.
"I think there's a bandit among us."
"...So you do."
A smile touched Leonard's mouth.
"You're a hunter, aren't you?"
"I learned a little."
"I see. You must have had a good teacher. Your footsteps barely make a sound."
Leonard glanced at the bow in Juhwan's hand.
"A very unusual bow."
"...The person who taught me made it."
"A long time ago I saw a man from another country use a bow like that. He said you could use almost any wood, and that they were easy to make. You don't see them in this country."
Leonard beckoned Gordon, the escort commander. Watching him break off his talk with the guards and come at a run, Leonard asked,
"If they're badly wounded, how many could you treat? Within a day."
"As many as there are escorts in this train, I'd say. I haven't tried it, but judging by my mana, that's about right."
Leonard, who had been watching Gordon approach, turned back to Juhwan in surprise.
"Dozens, in a single day?"
"That many, easily. It wouldn't even take a full day."
"Remarkable."
Gordon arrived as he spoke.
"Gordon, if we leave things as they are, more companies will peel off. Go around and talk them into staying. Tell them that if they leave now, they'll be meat for the bandits. I think that's what those men want—to split us off one by one and swallow us at their leisure."
Gordon bowed his head without surprise or question.
"Understood."
"Persuasion alone won't be enough. Tell them that from now on, we'll pay for healing magic for any of the badly wounded who can still be saved."
Gordon, silent until then, asked,
"That will come to a considerable sum, sir."
"It can't be helped. If every other company leaves us here, the large ones like ours will be next. We don't have enough escorts for the number of bandits."
As Gordon turned to go, Leonard added,
"Not the ones who are plainly going to die, and not the lightly wounded. Only the badly wounded who can still be saved. Make that absolutely clear."
"Yes, sir."
Gordon left at once with several servants. While he ran toward the wagons breaking away, the others began making the rounds of each company to announce that he would be calling.
Leonard looked at Juhwan and grinned.
"I agree with you. I think there's a rat among us."
After that, time passed without further trouble. A few companies left despite Gordon's arguments, but most stayed.
Once he had treated the wounded from the other companies, Juhwan headed for the wagon where Lizzie and Dorothy were. He had not properly seen their faces in days. Tense, watching every direction from outside, he had not been able to step inside.
"Lizzie, it's me."
He knocked as he spoke. The door rattled open, and Lizzie and Dorothy rushed him at once.
"Daddy!"
He opened his arms and pulled them both in. They answered by tightening their hold on him.
"Juhwan, you're not hurt anywhere?"
When Lizzie asked, worry plain in her voice, Dorothy's head shot up. She looked at him with a face on the verge of tears.
"He's not hurt, Mom. Daddy's super, super strong, so he doesn't get hurt. Right, Daddy?"
It was less a certainty than a question. Tears clung to the end of the child's words. Juhwan smiled.
"Of course. Your dad's a healing mage. Even if I get hurt, it fixes itself right away."
"Right?"
Dorothy breathed out, relieved. The hat and Oz were still perched on her head. Even while she worried over him she had kept her favorite hat firmly on, and the thought almost made him laugh.
A child was easy to reassure. An adult was another matter. Lizzie did not fully believe him. She was still watching him with that anxious look.
"I'm all right, Lizzie."
He said it and drew her lightly into his arms again. Her thin body bent back a little as her arms came up. She locked both of them around his neck and spoke as if whispering.
"Be careful, Juhwan. If it gets dangerous, run, no matter what. Promise me you'll put yourself before anyone else."
She dropped her voice even lower.
"Even if we're in a little danger, it's the same. You get away first. Please."
Juhwan held Lizzie and Dorothy without a word.
"That won't happen, Lizzie. I won't let it."
He brushed a kiss against Lizzie's lips, and Dorothy pushed her mouth out like a piglet. Once he met those lips, Oz came next. Dorothy held the little beast forward and demanded a kiss, so he had no choice but to press his mouth to the horned rabbit's forehead as well.
"Pii."
A strange sensation passed through him, as if something had moved between him and the horned rabbit. It was a little different from the feeling of giving mana.
"Daddy, what's wrong?"
Dorothy tilted her head.
He told her it was nothing and looked at Oz, and saw that the fur on the forehead had gone a little white. Not much. No more than the dirt under a fingernail. Only a few white strands.
But was that patch there before?
Oz's coat was a mottled black-brown. The belly was different, but the rest of the body had that same look, and the face was a little darker. White fur like that would have stood out, and he did not remember seeing it. Still, it probably wasn't a bad thing. He had a feeling about that.
Juhwan carried out the chamber pot that had filled with filth over several days, went a short distance from the wagon, dug into the ground, and buried it. Lizzie had offered to do it, but he couldn't let her stray from the wagon. Bandits were one thing; there might also be a traitor inside the company. He could trust no one.
While he was busy with this and that, the train began to move again. Juhwan climbed into the wagon and lay down. Lizzie and Dorothy settled on either side of him. The space was so narrow their bodies overlapped a little. He was simply too big. He tried to shift toward the corner, but both of them shook their heads. They wanted to stay pressed against him. So he held them in that cramped squeeze, lay flat on his back, and closed his eyes.
He had heard the destination was not far. They only had to endure a few more days. It was a large city, so there would be soldiers inside, and they could send a few people to ask for help. The other companies all seemed to be counting on that. But it would not be so easy. Because Leonard had stopped the other wagons from leaving, the bandits were likely to change their tactics. It would be foolish to think they would put in all this effort and then quietly withdraw. Today, or perhaps tomorrow, they would do something.
I have to rest now.
He needed to restore his strength and his mana. He had to be ready to fight whenever they came.
"Lizzie. Dorothy. Don't open the door for anyone but me. Not people from the company, not the escorts, not even Red Sword. Keep it locked, and don't answer anyone."
"...All right."
Lizzie answered, but he did not hear Dorothy. He turned his head a little and found the child already asleep.
"She couldn't sleep all night. I think she was scared."
Had she fallen asleep the moment she was in his arms because she felt safe? If he had given her the sense that Daddy was strong, that she was safe against him, he was glad of it. When he tightened the arm around her, Lizzie reached across his body and fussed with the child's hair.
"I said it before, but please be careful. Put your own safety first."
He did not seem to have reassured Lizzie. If anything, he was only making her more anxious. He held his wife close, putting everything he could of I'm all right into the embrace, and slipped into a shallow sleep.
Contrary to what he expected, the bandits did not come—not late into the night, and not as dawn drew near. A little longer, and the day would break. In all these days there had never been an attack at this hour. The tension wound tight through everyone's shoulders eased a little.
Juhwan did not leave the ground around his own wagon. He stayed close and kept watch in every direction.
Then, just before dawn, at the hour when the dark was deepest, the escorts' attention slackened, and a few of the people around the company's wagons shifted where they stood. Someone seemed to have gone nearby to relieve himself. Rustling footsteps, and then the sound of a stream striking the ground.
At that moment, someone lit a torch near the wagons. It was a good distance from Juhwan, near the front of the long line of Miller Trading Company wagons. With the whoosh of flame, a piece of the dark grew bright.
No one could tell who had lit it. Several people stood scattered near the wagons, but it seemed no face had been visible in the moment the torch caught. If anyone had seen one, they would have called a name. While the others stood bewildered, someone spoke.
"Dawn's almost here. Why a light all of a sudden—"
Before the sentence could finish, the man pitched forward. A sudden gust made the torch lurch wildly. Beneath the swaying flame, the figure swallowed by darkness was only a blur. An arrow was buried in the fallen man's head.
"Bandits! Bandits!"
Someone shouted, and people snatched up their weapons. But arrows came with dull thuds and punched through them.
Fire arrows followed. They were not aimed at the wagons. The oil-soaked shafts fell short of the wood and dropped around them, lighting the dark with a dim, uneasy glow.