Seirei no Moribito - Volume 1 - Chapter 1.2

CHAPTER II: THE FLIGHT BEGINS 

Draining the last drop of wine from her cup, Balsa breathed a contented sigh. What a surprise it had been to be invited to Ninomiya Palace! True, she had saved the prince’s life, but as a foreigner, she was of even lower rank than a commoner: The most she had expected was a sum of money. Indeed, when she left the prince with his courtiers on the riverbank earlier that day, an attendant had asked where she was lodging so he could bring her a reward. But the messenger who appeared at the inn said that the prince’s mother, the Second Queen, wished to entertain her at the palace first. 
The Mikado, the divine ruler of New Yogo, had three wives. The one who bore him his first son was known as the First Queen; the one who bore his second son, the Second Queen. Balsa had heard that there were no further heirs to the throne beyond the Second Prince, as the Third Queen had borne no sons. Such tales, however, concerned people of a different sphere than hers, and she knew no more. 
Balsa was not so ignorant of the world that the royal invitation made her vain: She knew that royalty only treat commoners kindly when they want something in return. While she was fully aware that the summons meant trouble, she could hardly refuse it without appearing rude — and that would only mean even worse trouble. She had had no choice but to come. 
Still, she was being given what seemed a wholehearted welcome; the Second Queen must love her son very much. The room in which Balsa ate was located in the outermost reaches of the palace, but a large charcoal brazier kept the space comfortably warm, and the meal was like nothing she had ever tasted before: crisply fried, juicy chicken; a subtly flavored cream soup; and fine wine, served in an elegant glass goblet. She savored every dish without fear of poisoning, for she knew that if anyone had wanted to silence her, they would have assassinated her at the inn, not at the palace. 
Although the queen had summoned her, she did not come to Balsa in person, but instead sent the prince’s chamberlain to convey her gratitude. Balsa was not surprised by this; according to Yogoese belief, members of the royal family were direct descendants of the great god Ten no Kami, and the divine power within them could unintentionally harm those in its path, like water flowing downhill. A commoner could be blinded just looking into their eyes. 
Balsa turned to the chamberlain now and bowed. “Thank you for the delicious meal,” she said. “A commoner such as I does not deserve such an excellent dinner.” 
The chamberlain, his white beard elegantly trimmed, bowed his head. “It is hardly sufficient repayment for saving the prince’s life. Her Highness asks that you stay in the palace tonight.” 
Balsa frowned slightly. “I couldn’t possibly take advantage of such kindness. Please tell her this delicious meal is more than enough.” 
“No, really,” the chamberlain protested. He patted Balsa on the shoulder, as if to reassure her there was no need to stand on ceremony, but then whispered quickly and almost soundlessly in her ear, “The queen has need of you. Please stay the night.” Immediately his voice returned to normal. “The palace’s hot-spring bath is marvelous. I’m sure you will never forget it.” 
Balsa bowed her head in assent. She had no choice but to accept. 
 
True to the chamberlain’s words, the bath was excellent. After a luxurious soak in the marble bathhouse — its hot-spring waters piped in, as only the nobility could afford — Balsa stepped outside and walked toward the outdoor pool in a corner of the walled garden. The cold night air bit her skin, but when she slipped hurriedly into the steaming tub, the heat spread slowly through her. White steam rose into the night air, and the red autumn leaves swayed in the hazy light of the torches placed about the garden. Above her wheeled a dark sky full of stars. 
I’ll just have to take things as they come, Balsa thought. 
Once out of the bath, she put on the fresh underclothes that had been laid out for her, but then donned her old traveling clothes. The serving woman attending her frowned. “I set out new clothes …” 
Balsa smiled. “Thank you, but I think I’ll be more comfortable wearing the clothes I’m used to. A commoner like me isn’t used to such luxury. Besides,” she continued, “I always carry a change of clothes, so it’s not like I never wash them.” 
The serving woman smiled stiffly and led the way down a long, dark corridor to Balsa’s sleeping quarters. Sliding doors covered in luxurious gold and silver brocade enclosed the room on all sides. Balsa guessed that each door opened onto a room similar to her own. Her bedding was already laid out in the middle of the room on thick straw tatami mats. She made sure that her spear and belongings were placed close at hand, then, loosening only her sash, she crawled under the covers and stretched out. The mattress felt heavenly. 
It’s as soft as a cloud, she thought. The nobility must sleep like this every night, but for me it’s a little taste of paradise. I wonder how long it will last…. Despite her awareness of impending danger, she let the warmth of the bath and the exhaustion of the day take hold of her. 
Most people fall asleep gradually, drifting back and forth between deeper and lighter sleep. Even when they wake, they do not regain full consciousness immediately. Balsa, however, could drop instantly into a deep sleep, as if tumbling to the bottom of a ravine, and when she woke, she was completely alert — a custom acquired through long years of training. 
She snapped awake in the middle of the night at the sound of footsteps approaching. Two people were drawing near — not from the corridor, but from one of the other rooms. Despite the caution they took, she could tell they were amateurs who did not know how to silence their footfalls. She sat up abruptly. 
A voice whispered from behind one of the doors: “Balsa.” She was surprised to hear it was a woman. 
“I’m awake. Come in,” she responded. The door slid open and a shadowy figure entered, bearing a silver candlestick in one hand and leading a smaller figure by the other. Balsa’s eyes widened when she saw the pale face illumined by the feeble light of the candle. Impossible! she thought. But there was no mistake. The face belonged to the boy she had rescued from the river last evening — the Second Prince. 
“You-Your Majesty?” she stammered. Their eyes met, and Balsa wondered if she would go blind. But far from being filled with lightning, the eyes that looked into hers were drooping with exhaustion. The boy seemed about to fall asleep. 
“I feared for you,” the woman said softly. “But looking into the eyes of royalty has not blinded you. I should have expected as much from a woman reputed to be so strong.” 
Balsa realized that the slender young woman before her was none other than the Second Queen, the Mikado’s second wife. She scrambled hastily out of bed and onto the floor where she knelt stiffly, her head bowed low. The queen began to speak in a low voice. 
“Thank you for saving the prince’s life yesterday. I am always terrified to cross that river on the way to the mountain villa — but you dived into it from a bridge! Four of his attendants jumped into the river after him, but only one survived. The bodies of the others have not yet been found.” 
The poor men, Balsa thought. She closed her eyes. If they had not dived in after the prince, they would surely have been accused of failing to try to save him. The thought that death was their only option filled her with helpless pity. 
“You must be wondering why we came to you at night and why I wished to speak with you alone. Balsa, raise your head and look at me.” 
She did as she was told, and the sight caught at her heart. Though the queen was still young, her face was as pale and drawn as if she were ill. But her eyes brightened as she looked at Balsa. 
“It is just as rumor reported!” she exclaimed. “You look so brave and bold! The serving women told me what the men said about you. Although you are a woman, you make your living by guarding others. There are none in the trade who do not know the name of Balsa, Spear-wielder — a wanderer from Kanbal fluent in many tongues, a spear-woman who has saved many lives. Is this not so?” 
Balsa looked away. “The rumors you have heard are far too glamorous, I’m afraid. I’m just a bodyguard. I protect people for money. That’s my job.” 
The queen nodded. “So if you are paid, you will save someone, yes?” 
“Well, no, that’s not quite …” Balsa searched for words to explain. “I suppose in plain terms you’re right, but there’s no guarantee that I can always save the person I protect.” 
The queen’s face grew stern. “That is strange. I have little association with the outside world, yet even I know that the item sold must have the same value as the item bought. If what you are selling is saving lives, then you must save the person’s life if you are to receive payment.” 
Balsa smiled suddenly; she had courage after all, this queen. “That’s correct,” she replied. “And if I fail to do so, I don’t get any money.” 
The queen frowned. “Why? Are you paid only after your work is finished?” 
“I’m usually paid half the money at the beginning of the job and the rest at the end. But that’s not what I meant. What I was trying to explain is that if I fail in my work, it means I’m dead.” 
The queen fell silent for a moment. Then she asked, “Why do you do it then, if it means risking your life?” 
“My lady, I’m sorry, but if I told you my whole story, the night would turn to day.” 
The queen hesitated, then glanced at her son, who had fallen sound asleep against the sliding door. Balsa had already guessed that she wished to hire her as his bodyguard. There must be trouble of some kind brewing in the palace, and the queen, fearing for her son’s life, wanted Balsa to protect him. As an outsider, she would have no connections with the court; she would be merely a new pawn that no one had ever seen or heard of. And after her rescue of the prince, Balsa must seem like a miracle-worker to the queen. She seriously believes that I can save the prince! Balsa thought. But against palace intrigues? It’s impossible. 
But what the queen said next surpassed her wildest speculations. “I have come to you tonight resolved to part with my son forever.” Balsa’s head jerked up in surprise. The queen gazed at her steadily. “I am certain that the ox’s rage on the bridge yesterday was no coincidence. Someone is trying to kill him. Two weeks ago, when he was bathing, a rock at the mouth of the hot spring crumbled and boiling water shot from the spout. If he had not slipped and fallen at that exact moment, he would have died a horrible death.” 
“Forgive me, Your Highness, but are you sure it wasn’t an accident?” 
Balsa expected the queen to be angry, but she only sighed. 
“That’s what everyone insists. But only because they do not understand why anyone would want to kill him.” The candle made a sputtering sound. “About two months ago, when we were in the villa on the mountain, my son began moaning in his sleep, as if he were disturbed by a nightmare. He seemed to have the same dream every night, yet when he woke up, he remembered nothing. But a very strong feeling lingered in his mind.” She fell silent as if she found it hard to go on. 
“What kind of feeling?” Balsa prodded. 
“He said — he said he wanted to ‘go home.’ ” 
“Go home? To where?” 
“Somewhere. Somewhere he didn’t know. But the feeling was so strong that it deeply disturbed him. Soon we had to keep watch over him at night or he would wander off in his sleep. When this tale reached the Mikado’s ears, he came to the villa with a Star Reader.” 
Balsa knew that the Star Readers were scholars who lived in the Star Palace and had a thorough knowledge of Tendo, the divine forces that control this world and the next. 
“His name was Gakai,” the queen continued. “He listened to what the prince told him, then stayed up all night to watch over his sleep. That night, a terrible thing happened.” Her lips trembled. “A little past midnight, when everyone else had fallen asleep, I was jolted wide awake. I was conscious, but I could not move. I forced my head to turn and looked at the prince. It was amazing. He was … glowing, with a pale blue pulsing light. It was as if he were a chrysalis, with some other creature growing inside him. 

“Then I heard a voice. The Star Reader was chanting, his voice shaking. I saw him raise a shining sword above my son. Forgetting myself, I gathered all my strength and screamed. Instantly, the light disappeared, almost as if I were waking from a dream. Sound and the chill night air returned, and I realized that during those moments I had heard and felt nothing. The prince lay sleeping as if nothing had happened, and for a moment I thought I truly had been dreaming. 
“But it was clearly no dream, because the Star Reader was drenched in sweat, as if someone had thrown hot water over him. And he was glaring at me.” 
“Glaring at you, Your Highness?” 
The queen clenched her teeth. “He said something terrible, something absolutely outrageous to me. He must have been so ashamed that I had seen his fear, he —” She was trembling, but somehow she managed to spit out the words. “He pointed at the prince, and he dared to ask me whether the blood of the Mikado really ran in his veins!” 
“But why?” 
The queen glared at Balsa. “Why? I would like to know myself! No matter how I pressed him, he only shook his head. Then he said, ‘Sooner or later, he who sleeps there will die.’ ” Sobs escaped her lips. “I was furious. I asked him how he could predict the prince’s death without taking measures to protect him. But he said, ‘If he were truly of royal blood, that thing would not be inside him. So do not accuse me of foretelling the death of a prince.’ ” 
The boy woke suddenly, startled by the sound of his mother’s weeping. He patted her timidly on the back, clearly trying to comfort her. Then he turned to glare at Balsa. His eyes were so strikingly like the queen’s that it wrenched her heart. “Did you insult my mother?” he demanded. 
“Shh!” The queen covered his mouth with her small hand. “You have misunderstood. You chose a good time to wake, Chagum. I was asking her to save your life.” 
Balsa broke into a cold sweat, acutely aware that she was being drawn inexorably into deep trouble. “Your Highness, please. Wait a minute.” 
“No. Let me finish my story first. Please.” 
Chagum looked up at his mother in surprise. Balsa was sure that he had never seen her plead with a commoner before. 
“Chagum, you must listen carefully too. Although you are far too young, you must engrave my words on your mind, and remember that you may never have the chance to hear them again.” 
He nodded obediently. 
“I have thought day and night about what the Star Reader said. And I think that I finally understand. He did not reveal any details to me; in fact, I think that he himself does not know what is inside my son — only that it is so terrible it will kill him. But he did make one thing very clear: Whatever this creature is, no one from the gods could ever be chosen to harbor it. Therefore, if it is inside Chagum, he cannot possibly be the Mikado’s child. That is what the Star Reader meant.” 
“You mean the Mikado is not my father?” Chagum stared at her wide-eyed. 
She answered him clearly, her voice quiet but intense. “I swear by earth and heaven, you are the Mikado’s son.” Then she looked at Balsa. “That at least I know for certain. Which means that some power that even the Star Reader doesn’t understand is working upon Chagum. Thus I wrote in secret to a highly reputed magic weaver in the capital, presenting it as a riddle to solve rather than something that had actually happened.” 
“What was the name of this magic weaver?” 
“Master Torogai.” 
“And the message went through? You were lucky. Torogai wanders like the wind and is almost impossible to find.” 
Once again, the prince looked bewildered; obviously, he had never seen a commoner speak to his mother like this before, either. When Balsa smiled at him, he frowned. Not a very friendly child, she thought. 
“Are you sure that magic weaver was any good?” he asked. 
“Yes, as far as I could learn, the very best.” The queen looked calmer now, and a faint smile touched her lips. “This was the essence of the reply: ‘I cannot say exactly what this “creature” is, but if it is the thing believed to have been destroyed long ago, the bearer will only die if he fails to protect the creature inside him. If he can keep himself and the creature alive until the midsummer solstice, he should survive.’ ” 
“That’s all?” 
The queen nodded. “This reply seemed to offer only more riddles, so I immediately sent a second message asking for a clearer answer. But by then Torogai had left the capital — to go where, no one knew. Still, I was happy that there was some hope.” Her eyes grew stern again. “But my relief did not last. Very soon after that, the ‘accidents’ began. It was then that I realized the Star Reader’s words had another, more sinister, meaning.” 
The prince clenched his fists. 
“Rumors that the prince carries such a creature would destroy the Mikado’s reputation as a descendant of the gods. To prevent this, he decided to have Chagum killed before anyone finds out, and to make his death appear to be an accident.” 
“My father? My own father?” 
The queen put her hand over the boy’s mouth again and drew him close in a tight embrace. “You must not hate him. He has no choice. Listen. Should he try to help you by summoning an exorcist, rumors would be bound to spread. Then it would no longer affect just you; it would affect the Mikado’s honor, his reputation, the entire future of this country. As long as you are his son, the prince, he must kill you.” 
Her voice shook and died away on the last words. Silence fell. Desperately suppressing her sobs, the young queen cleared her throat and looked squarely at Balsa. “I’ve thought about this carefully. Yesterday when I saw them bring Chagum into the palace, his wet hair clinging to his face, I made my decision. I want him to live. Even if he is no longer royal, he will still have a chance to experience the many joys of life. He will know what it is to fall in love, to be blessed with children…. If I can know that somewhere he is alive and safe, I think I can bear it, even if it means I never see him again. Separation is much, much better than the grief of seeing him dead. And if he is ever to have that chance, the time is now. Balsa, you are strong. I will give you a reward that no commoner could hope to receive in a lifetime. Please save my child. Protect him for me, and make sure that he has a happy life.” 
Gently she pushed the prince from her arms and removed two bags from inside her robe. She loosened the strings that fastened the richly woven sacks; gold glittered brightly in one, and pearls gleamed in the other. She looked up at Balsa confidently but then froze in surprise. Balsa remained totally unmoved, even at the sight of so much treasure. 
“Your Highness,” she said. “I’ve already explained that no matter how much you might give me, it’s no good to me if I’m dead. Forgive my rudeness, but I must speak plainly. You have dealt me an unfair and cowardly blow.” 
The queen went pale and began to tremble violently. “What do you mean?” 
“I saved the prince’s life, yet you reward me by taking my life. What would you call that but unfair and cowardly?” 
“I never said anything about taking your life!” 
Balsa looked her directly in the eye. “Are you sure? I am of lowly birth. If you summon me here, I have no choice but to come. If you wish to speak to me, I have no choice but to listen. And now that I’ve listened, I have two choices left: to die trying to do your bidding, or to refuse and die now. Both paths will certainly lead me to my death.” 
She knew the prince was glaring at her, but she ignored him to gaze steadily at the queen. Standing as she was on the brink of death, she couldn’t care less if she was being insolent. 
“I see,” the queen said. “You are right. I am indeed being unfair and a coward. But I was left no choice. I do not care if it is unfair or not. I will do whatever I must to protect him.” She lifted her chin. “It is true that you cannot be allowed to live now that you know this secret. Which do you choose, Balsa Spear-wielder? To die here? Or to protect the prince, take the treasure, and gamble on survival?” 
Balsa smiled icily. “There are three men behind me, another two in the corridor, and three more behind you. You could trust only eight people, my queen? Nobody move! If you do, my spear will pierce the prince’s heart.” Her spear was already in her hand; she had snatched it up when the other two had glanced away. She could feel the men’s anger from behind the doors. The queen stared at Balsa, biting her lip. 
“Now, Your Highness,” said Balsa, “let me have that treasure and the prince.” The queen hugged the boy to her and glared. “Hurry!” Balsa urged. “Once dawn comes, it will be too late for us to get away. If you want us to escape safely, you must bring a dark cloth to cover his face and tell me a safe way out of the palace. When you think we’ve reached it, set fire to the prince’s bedroom. You can say he started it while lost in a nightmare, and the fire spread too quickly for you to save him. You must make sure they think the prince is dead! They will begin to suspect something when they don’t find a body in the ruins, but the time it takes them to make that discovery will determine our fate. Our success depends on how convincingly you act your part.” 
The queen looked at her speechlessly. “You …” 
The ice had melted from Balsa’s smile. “I was just a little frustrated. How could I choose to die now? I am, after all, a bodyguard, and I accept the prince as my charge. Now hurry!” 
Tears slid down the queen’s cheeks. 
 
They had to keep their movements secret, for not everyone in the palace could be trusted, and it was some time before they were ready to depart. By the time Balsa carried the prince to the place where the secret route out of the palace began, the black night was already tinged with the bluish hint of dawn. The morning air nipped their cheeks and turned their breath a frosty white. They would leave the grounds through the large pipe that drained the baths. It reeked of sulfur, and Balsa paused at the entrance for one last taste of fresh air. 
Suddenly they heard voices in the distance — an uproar that grew ever louder, though they could not hear any words. A faint glow appeared in a corner of the dark silhouette of the palace, and then suddenly they saw a burst of flame, like an oiled torch touched with fire. 
Balsa set the boy down and pulled his small body toward her. He resisted at first, but then leaned passively against her, still numbed by the sudden upheaval in his fortunes. “Look there. The boy who was a prince is dying in those flames. When the sun rises, you will no longer be the prince. You will be only Chagum. Remember that.” 
The boy struggled to suppress his sobs. 
“No one knows what his fate will be. If you live, there may come a day when you will see your mother again. If you die, that will never happen. Do you understand, Chagum?” 
He pressed his lips together and looked up at Balsa. Then, wiping away his tears violently, he nodded once. 
He has spirit, Balsa thought. She smiled. Then, giving him a gentle shove in the back, she led him forward into the black mouth of the pipe.