Beach Walk (1)
“…….”
Perhaps it was because she had finally slept in a comfortable, snug bed after so long, but Monia woke later than usual.
The sun already hung high in the sky; it was nearly noon.
“Hweh.”
She wiped the drool from her mouth in a daze, stuck her head out the window to check the sun’s position, then rubbed her eyelids and looked again, half-convinced she must have been mistaken.
The sun was still high, its light striking the countless branches and leaves spread above the house, fracturing into a shower that poured down on her.
“Mm.”
Having confirmed the sun’s place, Monia nodded as if to say she understood, then cradled her head in both hands.
“I overslept…….”
Normally she was up by the time Chester finished breakfast, no matter how late she slept.
Oversleeping itself was no great problem. If there had been nothing to do that day, she would honestly have preferred to lounge about and sleep the whole time.
The trouble was that oversleeping meant one person had to shoulder the morning chores they usually split between them.
It pricked her conscience.
Monia thought back to her old life, when she had foisted every task onto others and lived in carefree ease, laughing “ohoho.”
Ugh.
Her conscience stung even harder. Why had she lived like that? Looking back now, she could not understand her past self at all.
It’s all the education’s fault. The education.
From childhood she had been drilled—almost brainwashed—with talk of how a superior ought to behave, how a duke’s daughter must carry herself, how a prince’s fiancée should speak and act.
The Monia of today clearly recognized that every bit of that education had been wrong, twisting the personality of those who received it and leaving them with human defects.
Chester had never taught her this separately, yet people said a healthy body cleared the mind. Even without his instruction she had grown enough to turn that insight upon her former self.
Is Chester in the forest with Ant?
Coming down from the house, Monia looked for him, but he was nowhere near the clearing.
Fresh tracks near the treeline suggested he had returned once and then gone back into the woods.
Mm. I’m still not good enough to read tracks inside the forest.
She was learning a hunter’s knowledge and skills from Chester, yet she seemed to have no talent for it; mastery came slowly.
Chester had said her sharp eye would let her pick up tracking quickly, but even a keen eye for art was different from an eye for nature.
Once, by the lake, he had pointed at the night sky and told her about the constellations. Monia had not understood a single one—what shape he meant, how the stars were supposed to connect.
It was absolutely not because she had been too busy watching the soft smile on the face of the man lying beside her, too absorbed in his voice, to give the stars more than a sidelong glance.
“Oh, you’re up?”
She was busily clearing and tidying the things Chester had left after finishing the morning chores when he and Ant burst from the undergrowth.
— Woof! Woof!
Ant’s muzzle was bloody; whatever he had eaten while scouting the forest, he now raced excitedly around Monia.
She gave him a light pat, tore off a nearby leaf to wipe his mouth, and looked at Chester.
He was hung with snakes, dangling from him like ornaments.
“Put them in a basket next time. Why so many snakes?”
“Beats me. They were out in force today. Maybe because it rained around here a few days ago?”
While Chester and Monia had been at the lake, a rain had fallen near the house.
When rain came, many animals that breathed through their skin could no longer do so underground and were forced out; most of those animals were prey for snakes.
So snakes grew more active in rainy seasons for the hunting, and this time they had been active enough to run straight into Chester.
It was a bumper crop of snakes.
Normally they were catch-if-you-see-them, leave-if-you-don’t game, but he had taken every one he spotted and soon passed ten.
He had actually caught more; a few had gone to Ant as snacks.
“Let’s roast them.”
“Yes. I’ll get ready!”
Chester tossed her the lighter; she caught it and held it up with proud confidence.
She had used the lighter several times at the lake, and every use only deepened her wonder. It was a shame it was not a proper lighter—the regret practically overflowed.
They quickly built a campfire, roasted snake meat and potatoes, and for the first time in a while seasoned their meal with spices.
“Hoo! Haa! Hot!”
“Careful.”
“Yesh.”
Monia popped a freshly roasted, scorching potato into her mouth, then flapped and puffed out the hot air while still savoring it.
Chester ate chili-and-pepper-sprinkled grilled snake and eyed the last spice jar neither of them had reached for.
Salt.
I checked today, but damn it—of course it had to rain not long ago.
It was not even a sweltering day, so seawater evaporated slowly and salt-making was hard enough. Before they left for the lake he had laid out bamboo trays; the rain had soaked them, flipped them, and washed every grain of salt away. Not even a hint of saltiness remained.
I should have asked Black Wind about rock salt.
He had been so dazzled by the ore he had forgotten.
I’ll ask next time he comes.
Whenever that might be.
Black Wind was still undergoing the rite to become a warrior; to complete it successfully he was not allowed to come to the lower levels. The moment he did, the rite failed.
Even after succeeding he would not simply become a warrior; he would be a “cub warrior,” still needing to grow and prove himself.
It was a busy season of chasing dreams, so a late visit was something they could endure.
But isn’t it about time he finished the rite and came back? I wonder how he’s doing.
Lately a new pastime had swept through the People of the Summit.
It was the pair of novel things Black Wind had brought back after completing the warrior’s rite: “ba-ju” and “te-mot.”
Some simply enjoyed twisting ba-ju into shape. Others tied the finished ba-ju around trees, stones, beasts—anything at all—and played with it.
Still others bound a stone with ba-ju and dragged it along as if walking a dog. The elder heads met every day to discuss how ba-ju might be put to use.
Ba-ju, with its endless ways to play, became an instant sensation. Te-mot, which offered little more than floating on water to rest or sleep, gained quieter popularity.
At first the idea of sleeping on the water appealed to the easygoing and to the women. Once the women liked te-mot, it became fashionable among the men to craft fine ones as gifts.
A “well-made te-mot” required the best wood from the harshest places. Many young men, eager to make one, blundered into dangerous ground and came to grief.
There were a few side effects, yet by bringing ba-ju and te-mot Black Wind—once little more than a wild, mischievous boy—was now praised as a proper warrior and a fine adult.
Of course, without matching deeds to back the praise he would still have been seen as a big-headed troublemaker.
But during the warrior’s rite Black Wind had learned a great deal.
From powerful, vicious beasts that charged without fear of the People of the Summit—like the rhinoceros—he had learned his own weakness and true fear.
Watching Chester and Monia, so much smaller and weaker than himself, live unharmed on the upper levels, he had felt awe and learned respect for the greatness the small ones could create.
At the same time, seeing Chester—who could speak with him unlike any beast, and who brought unimaginable benefits—he had learned that everything possessed its own value.
And by tasting gains won not by force but by goodwill, kindness, promises, and trade, he had learned that strength was not the whole of the world.
It had been an astonishing experience.
Black Wind told that astonishing experience to the village chief, the Great Elder, the greatest warrior, the elder heads, and the adult warriors.
Creatures from beyond the island who resembled them yet were different.
The great knowledge and skills they possessed.
The little sun.
Ba-ju and te-mot.
— Creatures like that exist? I would like to meet them once.
— He is not lying, is he?
— Black Wind does not have the head to invent such a lie.
— Interesting.
— We knew there were other worlds beyond the great water, but…
— Are they a danger to us?
— Is there any fear they might ruin the island?
While much talk passed back and forth, the wisest of them all—the Great Elder—spoke his mind.
— This place is home not only to us but to many living things. An unknown presence that appears suddenly may bring unknown dangers. Our task is not to find them interesting. We must watch them carefully, learn about them, and know what dangers they might bring.
Startled by the Great Elder’s words, Black Wind hurried to answer.
— They are not dangerous.
— I respect the opinion of the only one who knows them. Yet one person’s view cannot know everything. You said you would meet their leader again?
— His name is Chester. He promised that if we give him the stones the children like, he will teach us about the little sun.
— I understand the value of the little sun, but we must not look only at profit. Even the sweetest fruit makes one sick if eaten too much. Even the best things can turn bad.
The Great Elder turned to the chief.
— We must see them. We must know them. We must not simply keep our distance because we do not know them or because they might be dangerous.
— Then what?
— Black Wind. When you meet them, take one each of a small elder, a small warrior, an elder head, an adult warrior, a cub head, and a cub warrior.
Then the Great Elder held up a fruit.
— Look upon them with many eyes and know them. And give them the Beast-making Water, so that you may know them to their depths.
From the fruit the Great Elder raised came the sweet yet nose-stinging scent of liquor.