To a Distant Land (9)
I hadn't particularly planned on running into them. The group flying a flag was practically screaming, "There's someone important here!"
So I was just going to slip past them and be on my way…
Come closer, outsider.
My mistake was that someone over there had eyes that were far too sharp. Just when I'd been about to veer well clear of their expected path, they actually sent people after me to call me over.
Truly an outsider!
The one riding a leopard eyed me with a spark of interest.
Considering I myself had been staring at their three pairs of arms in open curiosity, I couldn't exactly complain… but still, the gaze felt a little excessive. It was the look one might give a monkey—or not even a monkey, more like some fascinating tool.
Ah, was I being too rude just now?
Even so, I couldn't afford to act out. Their party numbered around thirty, but only three of them were mounted on leopards.
Their clothes were elaborate enough that they had to be high-ranking. I simply poured strength into my eyes and waited for him to take the hint.
"Sorry, my apologies. In Bigabol we never see outsiders visiting privately—only official envoys."
Fortunately he looked away before it got too late. The fact that we could understand each other was a bonus.
His speech was a little awkward, the way a foreigner speaking Korean might sound, but there was no trouble making out the words.
"Hmm, is my speech all right? I've been practicing hard."
But what good was it that we shared a language? I knew nothing about him, and I had zero foundational knowledge of this whole region. Opening my mouth carelessly was a risk I couldn't take.
So I casually glanced away from the relaxed, self-assured man in front of me.
I could see the child on another leopard talking with the ones who had followed me.
What happened?
Well, it's a long story…
The one I'd been speaking with wore flashy clothes that differed somewhat from the tribespeople's style, but the child looked like he shared their origins. Flashy or not, the cut was similar.
Even though he was the smallest in the whole group, the fact that he rode a leopard suggested he held a position of real weight.
But with only that scrap of information, there was nothing I could do. I had no idea how to handle this.
Ah… could it be that my pronunciation is so clumsy he can't understand me?
I doubt that is the case. I myself acknowledge Chief Atart's eloquence. Still, please consider the position of an outsider suddenly confronted by the chiefs of a tribe.
In the meantime the last of the leopard-riders spoke up. Her low voice carried a fine resonance and a calm that inspired trust even though the language itself was still foreign to me.
"This gentleman is the chief of the Bigabol tribe. As one who desires exchange with the outside world, his interest in foreigners is considerable. If it is not too much trouble, would you join us for a while?"
She, too, could speak our language—and more fluently than the man who had first addressed me.
"Not interes—"
That was one thing, this was another. I needed a topic to divert attention, true enough, but I had zero desire to insert myself into their conversation.
As I kept repeating to myself, I knew nothing.
"As it happens, our chief has been looking forward to speaking with you. You did not have the chance earlier, did you?"
Please, preserve the dignity of our tribe and our chief.
"…!"
I knew… nothing…!
I do not know how you came to stay among our people, but I will most certainly repay you.
I looked from the words ringing inside my head to the woman staring steadily at me, and finally to the child who might be the chief.
When she said the chief had been "looking forward to speaking," she had glanced at the child, so the odds were high.
Why a kid was holding the chieftain's seat was a mystery, but it could simply be tribal custom; there was no way to know right now.
"…"
When they asked me to save the face of a tribal chief—and a child at that—it was hard to refuse. But if I agreed? Concept aside, I had no confidence I could handle myself stuck between two chiefs.
I was completely cornered.
Ah, Priestess. It is true that I wished to speak with him, but I have no desire to force our benefactor, whose wounds have yet to fully heal. He took Chibinung's poison while saving our hunters, did he not?
…Chibinung? He was struck by Chibinung's poison?
Yes, Chief Atart. Therefore I suggest postponing the conversation a little. I know you have great interest in outsiders, but…
In that case we must of course delay! More importantly, is it all right for him to be out and about after taking Chibinung's poison? Is there no problem with his body?
Why were they making such a fuss about me?
"…I had momentarily forgotten that you were still under the effects of the poison, thanks to your robust constitution. Please forgive the discourtesy."
They had been chattering among themselves for so long that I had deliberately stayed quiet. The woman finally turned her head toward me. She might not have known anything to begin with, but she was handing me a perfect excuse to refuse, so there was no reason to turn it down.
"Would it not be better if you traveled with us separately? Your complexion is poor."
In the end I couldn't avoid being escorted back to the village, though.
"Why did you come with them…?"
I had been dragged back into the village, but at least I had bought myself some time to take stock under the pretext of convalescence.
And the moment the chiefs' party moved into the largest building, Archmage—who had been hiding who-knows-where—came running up in a flurry and hauled me off somewhere.
Perfect timing. I wanted to clear my head and figure out exactly what was going on.
"I merely paid the debt for the help I received."
I tossed the answer out as I followed Archmage into an empty building. Above everything else, that single line was meant to forestall any character collapse over the fact that I had gone along with them.
"Hah…"
Archmage pressed a hand to his forehead at my unfriendly reply. Even with a brilliant mind, there was only so much information one could extract from words like that, so of course he reacted that way.
Um, is there some sort of problem?
Fortunately I wasn't the only one present.
The hunters who had been with me stepped in to fill in the details.
"So that is how it was…"
Looking five years older, Archmage held out a bowl of porridge to me. While we talked he had cooked it specially for my condition; the grains were minced extremely fine.
Whether it was to aid digestion or something else, I appreciated that there wasn't a single chunk of meat in it.
"Eat while you listen."
Even if this culture apparently didn't use spoons, and only the bowl of contents was handed over.
"As I told you before we arrived, Chiria Great Forest is home to a great many ancient tribes that have preserved their own languages."
Ah, that story. The part he had explained the moment it became certain the snake had fled into the Great Forest.
He had said the Great Forest contained many closed-off tribes that avoided contact with the outside. Since we weren't likely to meet them, he had told me just to keep it in mind; I didn't know the details.
I was only vaguely wondering whether this tribe was one of those he had mentioned.
"Most of them are hostile to outsiders. Anyone who trespasses into their territory is usually marked for death."
Is that so? Then had I helped them for nothing? No—considering they had saved my life, not all of them could be like that.
"Of course the tribe currently hosting us, Serhang, is a little different. Being located on the fringe of the Great Forest, they have long engaged in occasional exchange with the outside. Their aversion to foreigners is correspondingly milder."
So what was he trying to say? I listened carefully until he reached the point.
The porridge was a bit hot, but I endured it through sheer grit. Blowing on it would have ruined the aesthetic.
"What I wish to caution you about is the Bigabol diplomatic party that has just arrived. Until only a few years ago the Bigabol tribe was not at all friendly toward outsiders."
I see… but didn't I just see the face of the Bigabol chief?
"Fortunately the current great chief is said to favor opening the country and establishing exchange with the outside rather than isolation. The fact that he caused no trouble upon seeing you is probably for that reason."
Only now did I understand the Bigabol chief's strange goodwill. The chief himself and the person beside him had said as much, but he had truly wanted to learn about the outside world.
"The problem is that this is the 'Katina' period."
I had been sipping away, and the porridge was almost gone. My stomach wasn't full, yet I didn't feel empty either. I set the bowl down.
"Katina is the event held to choose a new great chief when the current holder of the position is deposed for causing trouble or dies of old age. Any person who holds a tribal chieftain's seat has the right to challenge."
"So?"
"Serhang is a rather weak power. Therefore their chief will not bother participating in the Katina. Bigabol, on the other hand, is one of the strongest contenders. Moreover, this Bigabol chief is a reformist, is he not? He will challenge for the great chief's seat if only to change the old customs. This alliance is for that purpose."
By this point I was beginning to get the picture.
Since this meeting was that important, and I had abruptly gotten stuck right in the middle of it…
"It would have been better if we had never gotten involved with them in the first place, but they have already become aware of our presence. Leaving without a word would be a discourtesy, so we must at least meet them once. Of course I will accompany you. However… you know, don't you? I will help however I can, so please… well… I am asking you."
I had to conduct myself properly. In other words, I must not throw a fit.
We were not guests who had been properly invited by Serhang, yet we had somehow ended up in that position. If we treated Bigabol carelessly, Serhang would be put in an awkward spot as well.
"Will you be all right, though?"
I silently lamented at the face that still held no real trust even while making the request.
I saved one person and somehow got dragged into politics. This is insane. Can't I just get poisoned again and lie down??
"If… if it truly is impossible, you could always claim the aftereffects of the poison have flared up and stay in bed. You would have to act as though the aftereffects were severe, of course, so our return would be delayed quite a while…"
Ah, right. Saying the aftereffects were so bad that we had to hurry back to the city would sound weird. It wasn't as if there was a paved road; we would have to push through a forest full of bugs and beasts.
Damn it. Either join a conversation where my concept would never sit quietly, or fake illness, stay comfortable, and delay the return.
How was I supposed to choose? I was already in a situation where I had to return early because I had left without telling the rest of the party.
"…I will not speak at length."
I was not the sort to meddle in other people's affairs, but more than that, I hated wasting time even more.
After fierce interpretation and agonizing, I reached a decision.
Archmage nodded.
"Thank you."
Having the person who was suffering the most thank me left me with a strange feeling.
Ah, Priestess!
Just then I sensed someone outside the building. Plenty of people had been glancing this way out of curiosity, but this was the first time anyone had approached so directly.
"It seems the priestess of the Serhang tribe is coming."
I have no idea who that is.
Judging by the title of priestess, I guessed she was someone of fairly high standing, and waited for the presence to enter.
Soon someone pushed through the guards surrounding the building and opened the door.
It was the woman who had earlier displayed such fluent command of our language.
I had wondered why she was riding a leopard side by side with the chiefs when her clothing style matched Serhang's perfectly, rather than looking like the head of another tribe.
"My greetings are overdue. I am Bibia, the Sixth Branch of the Soaring Swamp."
She looked down at me with eight eyes in which violet, turquoise, and yellow blended mysteriously.
This was a floor-sitting culture, so I was seated on the ground while she had just walked in; the angle was unavoidable.
"In your language one could also call me a priestess, so please address me as you find comfortable."
The priestess did not maintain that posture for long.
She plopped down in a spot that caught a lot of breeze, a place I had deliberately avoided. Her half-lidded eyes quietly regarded the campfire in the center of the room.
"Before anything else, I offer my gratitude for saving our tribe's hunters. Without the help of you two, we would have lost many young and capable hunters."
Then the priestess bowed low. It was gratitude of the most solemn kind.
I hadn't intended any of this, but the faint resentment I had felt at nearly being shoved into a high-level conversation evaporated completely.
"I did nothing. The credit is all his, so please do not thank me."
"Is that so."
I watched the attendant who had come with her clear away the pot and bring out tea, and I straightened my back even more rigidly.
I hadn't been slouching to begin with—I was trying to maintain the mood—but the priestess was so stiff that I found myself putting extra force into my spine as well.
"Chibinung… the Swallowing Green River has long been a great nuisance to our Serhang. Not only now but in the past it has swallowed countless hunters and warriors. That you slew such a creature… every member of the tribe will be grateful to you, warrior."
The priestess offered thanks once more, then held something out.
"It is a humble token of that gratitude. Ordinarily our chief would present it, but as he is receiving the envoys, I am forced to offer it in his stead."
Just as I had foisted all the credit onto him, Archmage showed no intention of either accepting or refusing the gift. He seemed content to leave the decision to me, which meant the answer was already decided.
"I do not need it."
I had no idea what was wrapped in the leaves, but I wasn't taking it. I hadn't helped them for a reward.
"Benefactor, please accept it."
"I said I do not need it."
The back-and-forth did not last long. When I refused a second time, the priestess withdrew the gift without Archmage even needing to intervene.
"If that is your will, I understand."
The tea was ready.
The priestess poured the tea into cups.
"It is a medicinal tea. Though you have driven out the poison, there is no knowing what aftereffects may remain. It should prove quite effective for restoring the body."
This one was a little harder to refuse. There are teas more expensive than gold of the same weight, but still, turning down a cup of tea isn't the easiest thing.
"I gratefully accept the priestess's kindness."
Listening to Archmage's reply, I carefully sipped the hot liquid, mindful of the heat.
"…!"
It was delicious. I had a friend who practiced tea ceremony, so I knew a little about the etiquette, but I was no connoisseur of flavor—yet even so, it was genuinely good.
"The fragrance is excellent."
"It is made from leaves that grow only in the Great Forest. I am glad it suits your palate."
They say good tea relaxes the body. I felt the nerves that had been standing on end for no good reason ease as I sipped.
I paid not the slightest attention to the conversation between the other two and focused only on the tea, so the cup emptied bit by bit until it was gone in no time.
"As one who has received help, I wonder whether I may impose further…"
The sharp-eyed priestess poured a second cup into my empty one. At the same time she finally opened the mouth that had been waiting.
Thanks to the tea, the tangled thoughts in my head had cleared and my mood had improved somewhat, so I was fairly inclined to grant whatever she asked.
Crack. Pop.
Bang!
We have a guest—who would dare such rudeness…
Priestess, that is not the problem! Warriors of Zatab have been sighted nearby!
I might have been feeling better, but the world was not. Even though I didn't understand the language, the sound of an emergency quest rolling in came through loud and clear.