Chapter 5
Sayjin ran his hands over the coarse, bark of an old oak. The air was fresh, cold and slightly damp. The silver moonlight scattered across the forest floor. The branches wove themselves together to create eloquent paths above the forest floor. He was home again and he was happy.
While Nerys had hidden herself in the library and Valtteri in his kitchen, Sayjin sadly had watched the forest from the attic windows. It was then he had seen them dancing through the canopy. Purple lights that flashed and popped with a mystical energy. They would play amongst the leaves until finally shooting up into the heavens and disappearing into the sky.
Sayjin had watched the lights for months, looking for a pattern in their dance, but there was none he could find. They came when they pleased and followed different paths when they did, but Sayjin was certain there was an intelligence behind them.
The wild shaman of Stormlands could do such things, the men who claimed their fathers had learnt the magical art from the Demons that once ruled the eastern lands. Men that had been driven by from the city, like himself by the gods.
Sayjin had met them a few times amongst the trees and they would show him powers that would have made normal men flee in terror, beasts made of nothing but smoke, lights that could fly through the air and cut a tree in two, they could conjure warriors made of blinding light, who could fight with skill better than any man he had met. If there were shamans hiding within these woods, Sayjin would find them and bring them to the new kingdom. They were just the type of men Sayjin needed to show Nerys the strength of his people, when they were not shackled by laws of the gods.
A day had passed since Sayjin had returned to the trees and he had made an attempt to search the forest at first, but his direction was soon lost when he found a beehive wedged under some exposed roots. Sayjin had spent the rest of the day smoking out the bees and stealing the rich honey inside. Now, his stomach full and his mouth clammy with sweetness, he had enjoyed his day back amongst the trees.
Sayjin was not concerned, though the others had many miles to travel to reach their mark, and then would surely be met by hostile peasants. Sayjin had time and tomorrow he would start his search in earnest, unless the forest offered up another surprise. He smiled and lay back in a cradle of branches and looked up at the dark sky.
The forest was alive with sound of insects, the beasts of night could be heard scratching their way through the underbrush as they stalked their prey. Sayjin listened as the moon arced, lazily, above and soon the screams of dying rodents had sung him to sleep.
Sayjin woke, the morning had come and it was time for him to move on. If the shamans were around then there would be tracks. As he searched he found the tracks of a doe with fawn, those of a squat, fat, flightless bird called a grannel, a set of tracks left by wild dogs and the strange tracks of some kind of a small, monkey-like creature, none interested him.
The day was reaching midday when he came across the tracks of some men. The footsteps crossed each other, back and forth, branches cut and snapped out of their path. A patrol, most likely a bandit camp was nearby. Sayjin followed the trail through the woods until the wet, gamy smell of a cooking bird started to fill the air. Sayjin began to salivate.
At the end of the trail sat a small group of Reisu around a campfire over which hung a large, fat grannel still grey and uncooked. Sayjin licked his lips, the forest had delivered him a banquet. His desire for meat overtook him, after weeks of eating nothing but roots and leaves pulled from the garden and pickles from the cellar. He counted the men he could see, there was not enough to keep him from his gift.
Sayjin hid himself just beyond the tree line, three men and a woman sat, some looked at the fire, others at their boots, their weapons resting just out of reach, a sadness dug into their faces. A single tent had been thrown up with some rope, the trees used as supports.
Sayjin moved his hand onto the small wooden baton tucked into his belt. He moved, quietly, around the camp, sure not to disturb the bushes as he went, until he was positioned behind the largest male of the group.
The baton swung through the air as Sayjin leapt from the bushes, a hard blow to the back of the neck made a satisfying crunch and the body went limp. Two men across the fire shouted and grabbed for their swords.
Sayjin moved quickly to one, dispatching him quickly with a hard blow to the jaw and they a second directly to the temple. The other had a sword but the swing was wide and slow, Sayjin drop below the blade and took out the man legs with a kick, he then jumped and landed his foot directly on the mans sword hand. Sayjin twisted his boot and felt a crack as the bone gave way and the man screamed. Sayjin’s baton swiped across the man’s face and the screams stopped.
A woman fumbled with a bow at the door of a tent. Sayjin left the man on the ground below him and walked towards her, slowly, the baton held high and strong.
“Put down the weapon,” said Sayjin calmly to the woman, “I won’t hurt you.”
The woman looked at him with wide eyes. She lowered the bow, slightly, and with the a quick strike she was on the ground as well, unconscious, blood pouring from her mouth.
Sayjin felt his rapid breath and the blood rushing in his muscles. He really had missed the wilds. Sayjin listened, the sounds around him were more intense now, the leaves sounded as though they were made of metal, grinding past each other in the branches above. The once gentle sound of the wind blowing through the tree trunks now sounded like a hurricane roaring around him. He waited to see if any would come from the tent.
None came and, slowly, the adrenaline drained. Sayjin’s vision went from the sharp, singular focus of the killer to the sweeping gaze of the hunter. His body loosened and realised he was still had his arm outstretched holding the baton where it had finished the last of its work. Sayjin smiled as a feeling of contentment took over him. He then set about inspecting the bodies on the ground.
The woman still had a pulse, so did the man with the broken hand. Sayjin would question them then he would kill them, if he needed. He checked the grannel, it was still a long way from being cooked. So, he turned his attention to the bodies.
First, he cut down the rope holding up the tent letting the structure collapse into a heap. Next he dragged the unconscious Reisu across the clearing to a tree away from the camp and secured both them with collars around each neck. One coughed blood which splattered onto Sayjin hands, he smeared it on the offenders clothes in disgust.
After the work was done, Sayjin moved back to the bird that was starting to brown. He took a seat next to the fire and looked upwards. The clearing gave him a small, unimpeded view of the sky.
The fire popped and spat as the fats of the bird dropped into it. Sayjin had become distracted again, but tomorrow he would give his all to the search. The day continued.
Sayjin got up momentarily and checked his meal, half of the bird was brown and crisp the other half still grey. He turned the bird on the spit and then returned to watching the sky.
As the sun disappeared back below the tree line the man bound to the tree started to groan. Sayjin stayed where he was, focused on the canopy, he did not want to miss the lights if they came. Though he was sure to listen to the wild scratchings of the man as he discovered his new collar and his battered companion. There was a moment of strange whimpers, then the man then fell quiet and Sayjin went back to listening to the fire, watching the light blue sky above and enjoying the smell of the roasting bird.
The sky started to turn to red, Sayjin went to the fire and looked at the golden bird, now begging to be eaten. With a single swipe Sayjin snatched a leg and the fire erupted as the juices flowed into the small flames below. The oils and hot skin burnt his hand, but he did not care.
The grey meat filled his mouth with the earthy, juicy and slightly sweet flavour of the grannel, fat ran through his finger and down his arm. Before Sayjin was knew it the bone was stripped of its skin and meat, he started to lick the grease from his hand.
Wine w
as the next thought that came to his mind as he dropped the bone to the ground, wiped his hand on his trouser and drew his knife. He heard a scuffling coming from the other side of the clearing and ignored it. He moved towards the tent and sliced at the leather where a bulge betrayed the presence of the supplies.
The tent held four large boxes marked with by the names of different trading companies. They had a sundry of dry goods and tools, but sadly not a single wine bottle or skin. It had been a good day though, even without the wine.
Sayjin returned back to the fire. He saw out the corner of his eye the man tugging at his collar, the woman still lay face down. Sayjin removed the second leg and sat back on the log that had been placed next to the fire.
“Have you seen the lights in the sky?” asked Sayjin to the man, not looking at him.
“What…” replied the man, his voice broke and he started to cough.
“Lights dancing through the leaves and then they shoot into the sky. Have you seen them?”
“Gods take you…” spat the man, but the cough took his voice.
“You tell me about the lights and I will leave you and your friend in peace. Don’t tell me and I kill you both and continue my search.”
“Mari is already dead.”
“Then I will kill you and continue my search,” shrugged Sayjin.
“Cut the rope and I’ll tell you what I know,” shouted the man
Sayjin dropped the leg bone to the ground, he reached over to the bird and tore at the breast meat getting a handful of fresh and skin, deciding to focus on the meal before him, the man could wait.
“Are you going to free me?”
Sayjin continued to eat and the man fell silent as the darkness of night came over the camp.
The moon rose and filled the night sky. The grannel’s carcass lay on the ground next to Sayjin, cleaned of any meat. The bird’s flesh now sat low like a rock in his stomach. He had never eaten a whole bird by himself before. Valtteri would have stolen half or Nerys would have berated him and took it away. He sighed and missed his friends.
Sayjin burped, loudly. The collared man shuffled in the dying light of campfire. Sayjin took out his knife and walked over to the man.
“Do you know where the lights come from?” asked Sayjin.
“Yes,” answered the man pushed himself up against the tree, “let me go and I’ll tell you.”
“Tell me where the lights are and I won’t kill you.”
Sayjin brought his knife in front of the man.
“Please, I’ll tell you.”
“Good.”
“A stream, a while in that direction,” he said pointing into the forest, “the lights fly up and down it.”
“What colour are the lights?”
“Purple.”
“Who controls them?”
“I don’t know.”
“Thank you,” said Sayjin with a nod put his knife back into its sheath and walked back to the fire.
The men waited for a few a moments.
“Are you going to let me go?” asked the man.
“You are free to go,” replied Sayjin kicking dirt onto the fire.
“The rope, you need to cut it.”
“Its just a rope, brother.”
“I can’t get it loose,” started the man.
“You have made it this far because you are better than the others,” said Sayjin forcefully, “I know you don’t need my help with such a simple matter.”
The man looked at Sayjin puzzled at brutal invader who had taken his meal and murdered his friends.
“I will see you another day, brother,” said Sayjin and walked to the edge of the camp.
“Please, the wild dogs in this forest are vicious.”
“I know.”
The man searched the rope, then his fingers found the knot and he started to pull at it frantically.
Sayjin seized a low branch and pulled himself up into the tree. As he swung up the stone weight of the bird lurched in his stomach. He held himself for a moment and recovered, he had eaten too much, he would need to sleep off the meal.
Sayjin found a comfortable place against a tree trunk and let the soft growl of the wild dogs relax his mind. Tomorrow, without fail, he would find the masters of the lights.