The Earth Began to Scream

The place had gone quiet again, and the adventurers slipped back into their usual talk—rumors out of other provinces, and stories that went nowhere. Lewd talk was the baseline. Women's names drifted up from every corner, and more than half of it was pure bluster. Ninety percent, maybe. What man in this world could stir to life ten times in a day, or twelve? Truly, however large they grew, men remained nothing but violent children.

Of course, if Lizzie only said she didn't mind, Juhwan himself could stay ready all night and meet her anew as many times as she wished. He was every bit as formidable as he looked.

Karin of Red Sword headed for a corner deeper inside the guild. Someone sat there who read letters aloud and wrote them for others. A man and a woman took the post in turns; today it was a woman who looked to be in her thirties.

Karin said something. The woman nodded and rose.

Juhwan stood shoulder to shoulder with Lizzie and began to work through the request slips plastered edge to edge along the wall, reading each one slowly, in a low voice, so she could follow.

The titles sketched the work and the pay. Under them came the region, the sort of adventurer wanted, or a description of the site. Where a title left the sum off, the figure was buried in the details below, and once you read it the pay was miserable. That was probably why they hadn't put it up top.

The wages were far thinner than he had expected. The merchant escort he had taken at the start must have been pure luck. He was glad he could use healing magic.

Herbs paid better than most other work. He didn't know how large a small herb sack was, but it looked as if it would beat an ordinary day's wage. He understood, then, why Karin had pushed to gather herbs.

But what in the world is a screaming carrot?

Had he misread a character? He couldn't feed Lizzie a wrong word. He was frowning at the slip when a voice came from beside him.

"Juhwan, when did you learn to read all of that?"

Lizzie looked up at him, eyes round. Respect shone there, and it left him a little shy.

After they left Moderni, Juhwan had begun teaching her letters whenever a gap opened in the day. From the very first step it had been hard going. Lizzie had never studied in her life, and learning sat awkwardly on her. Memorizing one character at a time was slow. So was fitting sounds together into words. She was nothing like the students of Earth in how quickly she grasped a thing, or how fast it stayed with her.

A single mark that had meant nothing to her, gathering with others until it made a special meaning—that fact itself seemed deeply strange to her. She didn't dislike study. Each time she learned one letter her eyes lit, and she would stare at it for a long while, as if she were looking at something precious. Sometimes she sat perfectly still over a character and traced it with a fingertip. Perhaps a thirst for learning had been sleeping in some corner of her heart. She had only given up from the start, because knowing had never been of any use. Deep down, she must have envied the people who could read and write.

The wooden letter tablets Gus had given him had, before he noticed, become Lizzie's treasure. It was after that she began to look at him with such respect. Learning the characters had been far harder than she had imagined, so a man who had taught himself both speech and writing, starting from a tongue he did not know, must have seemed extraordinary.

Even so, to be looked at that way merely for being able to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠read and write made his face burn. It felt like showing a five-year-old the trick of the vanishing thumb. In truth he had only bent the thumb and hidden it.

Lizzie studied the requests, matching the characters to what he had read aloud. She was clumsy at study, but her memory was not bad. She repeated his words under her breath and felt her way along the slip, and then her eyes stopped. She stared at the words screaming carrot. All at once she looked up at him, smiling bright.

"Juhwan, I hope we can gather screaming carrots. If we found even a few, the silver…"

She broke off into a soft laugh. Just picturing it seemed to delight her. So he hadn't misread. There really was such a thing.

"Lizzie, do you know what a screaming carrot is?"

"I've heard of them, but I've never seen one. They're terribly expensive. Poor commoners like us almost never lay eyes on them. Not the real thing, and not the medicine either."

"I see."

He was checking a few more requests when Red Sword and the woman reader drew near. She carried a small hourglass. She set it on the shelf beneath the posted slips and spoke to Karin.

"We'll start now. You know the fee, but it's one rina each time the glass runs. You wanted herb gathering, yes?"

"Yes. Please look for the ones that pay well."

"Understood."

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

Fine sand began to slip through the narrow waist of the glass. The reader swept the board and started picking out anything about herbs. Her eyes were quick, and so were her hands. She skimmed, drew several suitable slips, and began to read them aloud.

Watching her, Juhwan finally learned that the words he hadn't been able to read were mistletoe and cheonma.

Karin asked her to reread a few of them. What she chose was not the screaming carrot, but another herb request that paid a little more than the rest. Lizzie looked slightly disappointed. She gazed at the screaming-carrot slip with open regret.

"Karin, why aren't you taking the screaming carrots? They pay the most."

Karin gave a bitter smile.

"Screaming carrots are extremely rare, Lizzie. You can't just find them. Take only that slip and we'll waste days coming up empty. And if you're unlucky, the scream will deafen you. That's why the pay is so high. Still, if you actually find one, it's a complete windfall."

So the thing really did scream. Once again he was reminded that this was another world. A truly strange one.

Jessie grinned and slung an arm over Karin's shoulder.

"Don't look so let down, Lizzie. That's a standing request. Find one and they'll buy it anytime. You don't have to carry the slip with you."

"I hope we find a screaming carrot."

Lizzie murmured it while she watched the reader pin the slip back to the wall, regret still on her face.

Come to think of it, requests with no fixed term or quantity weren't posted as a single sheet. Several copies hung on the wall. He had thought that meant several clients. It seemed they were left up on purpose, so the request would remain even if someone took one.

The sand had not yet run out. Karin glanced at the glass and spoke to the reader.

"Look at a few with a longer term. Meals included. Anything we can do around here is fine. Five rina or more would be good."

The reader pulled several slips from a corner and read them. Asking for a longer term—she might be looking ahead to work for the days she wasn't with Juhwan, or for after the month was over. Noticing his gaze, Karin hunched her shoulders and smiled.

"It's best to check the good jobs early and pull the slip. Otherwise someone else snatches it. First eyes, first claim."

"Doesn't the guild object?"

"Ah—once you take a slip, you can't just hold it. You have to register it. If you don't finish inside the term, there's a penalty, so you have to get it done. That's why you must never accept a request you can't handle, no matter how high the pay."

The sand ran out. The reader took one rina on the spot and turned to go back to her seat.

"Ah, one moment."

When Juhwan called, she set the hourglass on the shelf again.

"Shall I read a request for you?"

"No. Would it be possible to take private lessons? I'd like to learn letters and pronunciation. Your day off would be fine, or the evening."

At that, the reader's face went stiff.

"I'm sorry, but I don't do that sort of thing. The guild forbids it."

"Uh… I'm sorry."

Was outside work banned? He hadn't thought of that. Beside him, Jessie spoke in a fluster.

"No, no, it isn't that. This man is completely gone on his wife. He didn't mean it that way. He really wants private lessons. Probably."

"Oh!"

The reader looked at Juhwan, a little thrown, and her face went scarlet. Jessie looked up at him.

"Right? You meant it the way it sounds… didn't you?"

"…Does private lessons mean something else?"

Juhwan was a little thrown himself. Did the phrase carry another meaning in this world, the way people said they were going to pick flowers when they meant the privy? Marie started to giggle.

"She lives alone, no husband, so—you know. Some men assume she does that kind of work now and then. Men like that invite her the way you just did."

"Ah."

He understood at last. But would anyone ask for that with his wife standing right beside him? Lizzie seemed to catch the meaning a beat later. Her face reddened, and she looked a little angry.

"Juhwan doesn't do things like that…."

She started firmly, then let the end of the sentence blur, and looked up at him with worry. She had said it, but a part of her still wondered.

"I absolutely don't. Even if the sky fell, I wouldn't."

Only after he said it so plainly did Lizzie relax. As if declaring him hers, she gripped his hand tight. She showed little of what she felt, so this was rare. If she was willing to show that she wanted him for her own, he was glad of it.

"What don't you do?"

Dorothy, who had been playing nearby, poked her face up between them. Every adult went still. Dorothy tilted her head and asked again.

"But Dad, the sky falls? When? If the sky's gone, what do we do? That's a big problem."

Juhwan scooped the child up. Beside him, Lizzie explained in a small voice that it would be all right even if the sky fell—the sky was so high that even if it collapsed, it wouldn't reach them. No. That isn't it, Lizzie.

The reader, who had been quietly watching them, asked as if something seemed odd.

"But earlier it looked as if you could already read. Why do you want to learn from me?"

"I realized it listening to you just now. Have you had the education nobles receive?"

The woman's face hardened a little. He might have touched something sensitive. Juhwan dipped his head.

"If I was rude, I'm sorry. But I've heard a similar pronunciation before. If it's possible, I'd like to learn a more refined way of speaking. Words, too. I'd like to learn them more broadly."

This time it was not only the reader. Lizzie and Red Sword looked at him strangely as well, as if to say that being able to read and write was enough—what more could anyone need? But whatever you learned became blood and flesh in the end. He had no particular wish to tie himself to nobles, yet who could say what might happen later? Knowledge was power. That truth held in any world, and in any age.

The reader hunched her shoulders slightly and laughed under her breath.

"You're a strange man. I can tutor you privately. If it's truly that, I'd rather like to. But there's a condition. Meeting alone won't do."

That was exactly what he wanted. He had never meant to meet her apart from Lizzie and Dorothy. And if it was possible, he wanted to ask her to teach ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Lizzie a little as well. If Lizzie could learn proper pronunciation and proper letters from the start, that would be far better.

They agreed to settle the time and the fee later. Then Juhwan registered the request slips with a guild clerk, alongside Red Sword.

"There's no set amount, so you can bring ten sacks or a hundred. But the client wants the herbs fresh. Once you gather them, bring them in the same day if you can, or the next morning at the latest. What size sack shall I give you?"

"The small ones are too much trouble. Three large ones, please."

"Be careful not to crush the herbs. We'll lower the price on poor quality."

"We know."

Karin smiled bitterly at the clerk's warning. Unlike the escort job, there was no separate request token for the herbs. They received only cloth sacks to put them in.

"If we hurry, we can gather some today."

Red Sword seemed a little impatient. They took up the sacks, big as bags of rice, and hurried out of the guild office.

The place Red Sword led them was an hour's walk out of the village, at the edge of the forest. A narrow path reached nearly there, but almost no sign remained of anything passing. It seemed a place people rarely came.

"Experienced adventurers each keep a hunting ground or an herb edge nobody else knows. They don't tell people easily. This is a place we come to often. Several kinds of herbs grow here, and magical beasts and animals don't show themselves much."

"Is it all right to tell me that?"

"You've helped us, Juhwan."

Karin pushed through the low grass and went on. Trees that had grown high into the sky stood sparsely.

"Do you see those things like birds' nests up there?"

He looked up. On branches dizzyingly high, round shapes had formed here and there. If they weren't like nests, weren't they simply nests?

"That's mistletoe. Birds didn't make it. It's a plant that grows as a parasite on this tree."

He was a little startled. However he looked at it, it was a bird's nest, and she was telling him it was only a plant.

"But it's so high. How do you gather it?"

"You strap this around your waist, climb the tree, and cut it off with a knife."

What Marie took from the pack on her back was a thick leather strap like a belt, and a short ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠piece of leather set with iron spikes. She set the spiked leather against the sole of her shoe and bound it tight. When the sharp points stood under the shoe, she stamped a few times to be sure the binding held.

Good God. She meant to climb a tree with nothing but a few hobnails on her shoes. His face must have looked funny. Marie giggled and slung the leather strap around the trunk.

Meanwhile Karin bound a small knife to a length of bamboo and made a long blade for the moment. She tied a cord to the bamboo knife and fixed it at Marie's waist.

"Just watch for now."

Marie looped the strap loosely around the tree and put herself inside it. When she leaned back, the leather went taut. She caught her balance on the strap, drove the spikes on her feet into the bark, and began to climb a little at a time.

"Be careful!"

Lizzie called out, and Marie shot her a thumbs-up. A moment later she was a dizzy height above them. His chest tightened.

Reaching the mistletoe, Marie pulled up the bamboo knife tied at her waist and cut a clump free. Only one. The price of mistletoe gathered at the risk of a life was one or two rina, and only after several clumps were piled together.

After taking several, they dug cheonma. Cheonma was a root buried in the soil. It could be gathered far more safely than mistletoe, but there wasn't much of it. Making a living was truly not easy.

While Juhwan and Lizzie dug in silence alongside Red Sword, Dorothy and Oz wandered the ground around them. Dorothy seemed to be searching for something too. She bustled about, ordering Oz to dig here, dig there.

Juhwan kept her in sight while he dug. Then Oz's ears pricked, and the rabbit began to tear at one spot like something mad.

"Oz! What are you doing?"

Dorothy squatted and watched. Oz seemed not to hear her, and kept digging. Something felt wrong. Juhwan was just stepping closer when a grotesque sound leaked up from the hole—Oz had gone down so fast that the rabbit itself had vanished from view.