Book 3. The Long Journey. Chapter 75. The Weight of a Name.
“It’s quite lively around here,” Laien pointed out after they left the house. Unlike an hour ago, the plaza was filled with people who were chatting, eating and drinking at the many tables which had apparently been set up in the meanwhile with exactly this activity in mind. “There are women and girls too,” he noted to himself and smiled slightly. The majority of women were just like the ones in Turukan’s house, wearing but a light piece of cloth over their hair, while the younger girls wore no additional covering. There were a few women in Jirans, but they were mainly gathered into their own circles and weren’t as omnipresent as in the City of Palee.
“It’s because of the custom I picked up during my days in the army,” Turukan glanced at Laien and explained with a smile. “After the day of hard work, it’s always nice to gather with your friends and have some fun in a large group, even if only for short period of time. It caught on quickly when introduced, so now it’s like this pretty much every evening,” he elaborated, predicting that either Laien or Arslan would ask him to do so either way, just like a few other times before that.
“Huuuh.” Laien tilted his head a little. This village had around fifty thousand residents, no? Considering that at the first glance there were around two thousand people gathered here, the custom really got quite popular and remained as such. “Doesn’t it get boring if you party every day?” he asked, finding this phenomenon rather curious. If it really made people happy, then maybe he could try suggesting something similar when he returns to Neil City?
“As I said, most people don’t stay for long,” Turukan reminded patiently. “Half an hour or so is how much time most of us spend here. And before you ask, you should also keep in mind that we aren’t in a large city but in a village. The community here is tighter than in the cities and there’s less to do than in the cities. That’s why I thought the custom of the soldiers would acclimate well here,” he explained in detail, then sighed a little. His nephews and nieces were still not too used to him and thus didn’t tend to pester him much, but these boys didn’t fear him one whit and kept nagging him with questions all the time; sure, he was doing the explanations on his own by this point, but it was still giving him a headache. In the long run, dealing with children wasn’t his cup of tea at all.
“I guess it won’t work then,” Laien mused aloud, confirming what Turukan had suspected; he really would have asked for a further explanation.
“Oh, there they are,” Turukan said with a smile, though for some reason the corners of his mouth fell a fair bit afterward. “All the important guys at one table. You should be able to buy what you need all at once,” he mentioned while glancing at Albert, then gestured the group of nine to follow him toward the somewhat lone table that was occupied by over a dozen men.
As they were following Turukan through the central plaza, Laien and the others naturally attracted quite a few curious gazes from the villagers. Everyone wondered what their reason for meeting with Makir Turukan was; was it something trivial, or maybe something that would impact the village as a whole? Given that the news of a caravan staying near the walls had also spread, and given that it was automatically assumed to be a caravan of those white-clothed nobles, most villagers leaned towards the former option. However, there were still some people who were wishing for something interesting to happen, as the past two months had been almost unbearably boring.
“You’ve brought some important people over, boy,” one of the older men stood up and greeted Turukan and his companions with a smile. He nodded slightly at Turukan, then shifted his gaze towards the three youths in the front and the two white-clothed adults right behind them. “Rala Salar,” he said respectfully and bowed in an old-fashioned, formal way with one hand behind his back and the other at his chest.
“Old Rakar,” Turukan laughed with a slight smile and shook his head a little. “Since when did you turn into a polite person? Are you that intimidated by our guests?” he asked, his smile turning rather wry. He was more than happy to poke fun at this annoying old man and additionally, he understood the temperament of his guests well enough to know they wouldn’t be angered by the lack of formality or some jokes here and there. Nobility may they be, those guys were one of the most likable nobles he had met so far in his life; certainly enough, they were much better than those haughty superiors he had ordering him around back in the army.
“Hmph.” Rakar snorted unhappily at Turukan’s provocation. “This little spurt, if you want to act so high and mighty, then hurry up and give me my great-grandchildren! It’s been three months already and my granddaughter still isn’t expecting! Are you impotent or something?” he retorted, causing both Turukan and his own companions at the table to groan inwardly.
“Don’t you already have grandchildren down into six generations…?” Turukan asked helplessly, wondering why was this old man so stubborn about this one thing. Had he known that Rakar would pester him so much, he wouldn’t have bedded that girl… alas, now it was too late to regret anything. “Forget it, it was my bad for picking up a fight. We are here to buy a few things from you and your friends,” he said with a sigh, trying to change the subject to a more comfortable one.
“Oh?” Rakar raised an eyebrow. “There’s something those exalted guests of ours need from this little village? That’s surprising, I must say.”
Hearing the way Rakar spoke, Turukan couldn’t help but frown. “Again, what’s up with you, old man? Are you going senile? There’s no need to be so stiff…” he said with a slight smile, then laughed inwardly. Those boys had told his nephews and nieces the same thing during the dinner, so as he saw it there truly was no need for the stiff formalities; he had never been fond of such things anyway, so he welcomed the lighthearted attitude of those three and of their guardians.
“You…” Rakar’s face grew stiff at first, but the next moment a smirk of ridicule appeared on it. “Don’t tell me you really are that much of a blockhead? Don’t you realize who those people are?” he asked, not quite sure if he should be amused or worried because of this situation.
“What do you mean by that?” Turukan asked, honestly confused by Rakar’s behavior. He sneaked a glance at the three youths who stood to his side and wondered; was there something he had missed? He never asked anything else than their names and he didn’t inquire about their background, but since those small masters didn’t bring it up on their own it couldn’t be all that important of a thing to them, right?
“You know who we are?” Laien threw his question in, asking with an amused smile on his face. Even Sarah, Albert and the rest of the people from Ulme Village hadn’t figured anything out, but this old man realized their identity right after seeing them for the first time?
“I wouldn’t claim that I know all of you,” Rakar responded with a laugh and a smile, although if one paid attention he would notice the trace of nervousness in his voice. “I happened to hear that you’ve been angry about Turukan’s sigil from the gate guards, but it doesn’t seem like you are anymore. The old me also happened to learn that the Grand Yimar Mustafa had come to our Yimarate with his son, who should be just about five years old… There are also those news edicts being sent out throughout the land, so I suspect the Capital City and a few other places will be in quite some turmoil for the next weeks…” he explained unhurriedly, presenting his speculations in as polite of a way as he could manage.
“If the guess of this old me is correct, then you little master should be Arslan, the son of our new sovereign,” he said amiably, towards the end shifting his gaze toward Arslan and bowing his head respectfully. Having been alive for over two centuries already, he knew a good deal of things about the world; for example, he was aware that those of Makarash usually would wear white, elegant clothes without any sigils on them. Adding this fact on top of his other suspicions, he was about ninety percent sure that he wasn’t wrong in his assumption.
“Well then.” Laien chuckled and glanced at Arslan out of the corner of his eye. “I guess that’s it for the incognito part of the trip?” he asked, causing those who were doubtful of Rakar’s wild claims to blank out for a good few seconds.
“So it seems,” Arslan said with a nod. “I’m sorry for not introducing myself properly either, but it’s easier to talk to people like that,” he said simply and gave Turukan a half-apologetic glance, then left it at that. He simply didn’t feel much of a need to do any formal introductions at this point; as he saw it, it would be nothing but awkward for him to suddenly start acting in a different way just because his identity had been revealed. He wanted everything to remain as it was up till this point.
“M-Mustafa’s…!” Unexpectedly, Turukan started to look looked like he was about to cough up a mouthful of blood. “The Ferocious Tiger General’s son…!” he coughed the words up, then swallowed heavily as he recalled the way he had been teasing Arslan about marrying his niece. As an experienced soldier, there was little that could cause him to feel the true fear, but there was one person in Arkaria of whom he was absolutely terrified; and it was Mustafa! In his youth, he had the misfortune of participating on the wrong side of a battle between the Grand Yimar Ashur and the Grand Yimar Mustafa and for many years after that battle, he had been suffering nightmares non-stop, each and every night!
“And I wanted to wed my niece with the only son of this man…” Turukan laughed soundlessly. Were it not for his strong cultivation base and the sturdy mentality he had developed over the centuries of service, he would likely have fainted on the spot. How could he have been so blind and thoughtless? All he wished for was to enjoy his remaining years in peace, he didn’t want to get involved with anyone related to that terrifying man!
“Um,” Arslan scratched the back of his head awkwardly, seeing as in contrast to those men at the table and those villagers around, Turukan’s face was turning more and more deathly-white. “You don’t need to be so nervous, you know?” he pointed out amidst the clamor and smiled slightly. Was there really a need for Turukan to be so scared? They had been getting along well enough so far, so why was he acting like his life was under threat? Was he so scared him…? Or rather, of his father’s name?
“I, it’s… yeah,” Turukan responded not quite cohesively, but it was the most he could manage at the moment. Unlike those of Tuln Village, who were more excited than anything else to have the son of Mustafa paying them a visit, he couldn’t help being terrified. Mustafa was the best sovereign imaginable for those who agreed with him and did as he wanted… but for everyone else, he was the scariest nightmare in the world. That was why when the new laws had arrived in the early afternoon, he had grown so anxious despite knowing that Tuln Village shouldn’t attract Mustafa’s attention for any of the wrong reasons; in fact, it was probably one of the few places in Eulene governed in a similar fashion to Makarash… though that could make Mustafa look at it with more curiosity, what also was caused him some fear and worry.
In response to Turukan’s half-hearted reaction, Arslan let out a little sigh. It was already bad enough in Makarash, but he thought it would be different here, in Eulene. Laien and Yin weren’t scared of him at all, for example, nor were those villagers. Yet, when looking at Turukan, or even Johan and Albert, not to mention Sarah, he saw the same cautious fear and doubt lingering in their eyes to which he had gotten used to back in Makarash. Still, despite being used to people looking at him in this way, he absolutely hated those looks in their eyes; it would always be extremely boring and annoying to talk with them, be it adults, youths or children. He hated how they would all try their best to please and not to offend him, how they would pick their words carefully each time. He could bear dealing with them if needed, but he would never become friends with such people.
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“Maybe we should have lied about who I am?” he wondered quietly, not quite sure what to say to make things better. He didn’t care about Turukan at all and he cared little about Albert or Sarah, but he kinda wanted to become friends with Johan. He could instinctively tell that Laien and Yin were rather special and he knew they weren’t treating him as ‘Mustafa’s son’ but as ‘Arslan’ from the very beginning, whereas Johan was more of a normal kid. He also knew that Laien and Yin would sooner or later go their own way… and he wanted to learn how to make friends on his own, to then perhaps make some when he would return to Makarash in a few years. He didn’t want to lead the life of a loner; and for the sake of that goal, he wanted to try and get along with Johan, too.
“Why are you so scared of me?” he asked, glancing in Turukan’s direction. It wasn’t that he was particularly concerned about the man’s reasons, but he thought that his answer could help him figure out why it was so hard to deal with those who knew of his father’s name.
“Why, you ask…” Turukan said weakly, appearing like a pitiful dog that had been kicked out of the house and into the rain. “Small master Arslan, have you heard of the Battle of Kiridan?” he asked, then seeing the confused look on Arslan’s face, added. “Perhaps the name ‘Battle of the Tiger and a Cat’ is more familiar to your ears?” he inquired and as expected, a look of realization appeared on Arslan’s young face.
Arslan was very young, true, but he had studied quite a lot; he had only forgotten about the official name because even his teachers rarely used it to describe those events, instead using the many other mocking names which had sprung up like mushrooms after the humiliating battle.
“You were one of those who survived the Kiridan?” Jasmine asked in surprise. “Were you there for the last battle, or did you desert with the others on the way?” she asked, both her smile and her words brimming with an amused competitiveness. In her heart, she had long since come to view Makarash and its people as her family; the glory of the Grand Yimarate and of Mustafa was an important thing to her! Especially since she had been one of the commanders in that battle.
“…” Turukan felt like digging up a hole and hiding in it, but he forced himself to reply. “I was one of the idiots who stayed for the last battle. I assume you were one of the squadron leaders who committed the harassment campaign on our way to Kiridan?” he asked, guessing well enough why a question of this kind came from this woman who gave of the aura of a dual practitioner.
“Mhm,” Jasmine confirmed with a slight nod. The battle of Kiridan was one of the more amusing battles she had gone through.
“Harassment campaign?” Laien asked, the mention of the battle piquing his curiosity. He had always liked to talk about the matters of warfare, it was just that he hadn’t had many opportunities to do so lately. He should have brought up this subject much earlier with Jasmine, or with Sirius! Those two old ones surely had many interesting stories to tell.
“It’s a long story,” Jasmine said with a smile. “But in short words, it were four large units of spiritual masters that numbered around one thousand men each, one of which was under my command, using hit-and-run tactics to attack the invading army of the Grand Yimar Ashur. The young idiot thought he could win against Mustafa in a clash just because he had some insignificant numerical advantage, how did a man so stupid become a Grand Yimar?” she explained and pointed out mockingly; in Makarash, the Grand Yimar Ashur was a popular object of mockery up until this day.
“Insignificant…” Turukan repeated with a helpless laugh. “The Grand Yimar Ashur mobilized one hundred thousand of his personal elites, four hundred thousand regular soldiers and five hundred thousand mercenaries. It was a grand army of one million against your eighty thousand White Guards, how can you call that an insignificant numerical advantage?” he asked, not sure if he should laugh or cry. The people of Makarash were all so incredibly arrogant, he had no words for it!
“But it was, wasn’t it?” Jasmine rebutted with a devilish smile. “By the time you guys reached the first city beyond our border, Kiridan, you had only three hundred thousand left of that original million. We killed just around one hundred thousand with our Grand Spells, while the rest ran with their tails under their legs,” she said with a laugh, to what Turukan couldn’t respond at all.
In the end, that was the truth! Turukan hadn’t been able to comprehend it back then, but he did now understand why Mustafa’s old rival, the Grand Yimar Abdain had refused to take any part in that battle. The might of Makarash had simply been too overwhelming even back then. Maybe if both the Grand Yimar Ashur and the Grand Yimar Abdain had committed all of their forces to an all-out war, then they would have garnered a just around fifty-fifty chance of obtaining a pyrrhic victory. However, would the crafty Abdain ever consider such an option to be a valid one? Of course not! Thus, he had stayed his hand and allowed the young man to make a complete fool out of himself. As such, the battle that would later come to be known as a contest between the Tiger and a Cat happened.
“And how did the battle itself go?” Laien asked again, appearing to be quite impatient in his eagerness to learn the details.
“A slaughter,” Turukan said bitterly. “It couldn’t even be called a battle. From what I know, it’s now being described along the lines of a pillow being skewered by multiple sharp scimitars. As one of those who had seen this struggle from the most horrifying point of view, I assure you, this description doesn’t do justice to how overwhelming of a victory it had been for the Grand Yimar Mustafa and his Captain Commander, Kundar… and the many monstrously strong officers and warriors under their command,” he explained and laughed at himself inwardly. How could he have been so stupid in his youth to seriously consider beating the elite forces of Makarash with some rag-tag of an army led by an inexperienced commander? The fact he had survived the massacre was nothing short of fool’s luck as he ended up close to the Grand Yimar Ashur’s camp during the struggle and ended up being spared as one of the last few hundred people who were left alive.
“So the White Guard was that strong?” Laien half-stated half-asked, then glanced at Jasmine and Reian. He had already known that Mustafa was a monster, but were all the subordinates of his similarly abnormal? If so, then the degree of the military might of Arkaria far surpassed what was thought about it in the south…!
“It was, and it is,” Reian said proudly, clearly aware that this little conversation of their became an object of attention of many villagers around them. “Our Grand Yimar and Captain-Commander are especially monstrous. They both are exceptionally talented not only as practitioners, but they are geniuses of war seen only once every ten millennia! To expect a crude attempt to attack us like the one from back then to end in anything but a total annihilation is a folly,” he exclaimed, causing many awestruck voices to be raised from all around. The might of Makarash was known to all and as it seemed, it wouldn’t diminish in the slightest for as long as those two people led that Grand Yimarate!
While the looks on Laien and Arslan’s faces grew excited, Turukan could only cough dryly. For some reason, he had a feeling that he would once again dream of that battle tonight.
“So,” Arslan turned his eyes to Turukan once again. “You are scared of me because you were one of the soldiers who lost a battle to my father? But it’s not like you did anything bad, so why? Even if for some reason I told my father to kill you, he would have asked for a reason and would have tried to confirm it before acting,” he attempted to explain with a slight smile on his face… but very much unlike what he expected to see, Turukan’s jaw trembled and his expression turned grim once again.
“Eeeh? Did I say something wrong again?” Arslan asked himself rather helplessly. He really couldn’t understand adult people.
At this little scene, Laien couldn’t help but chortle while Yin, Reian and Jasmine couldn’t stop themselves from revealing wry smiles. They would probably need to explain it to Arslan later, else Turukan would end up truly miserable was the situation to end up with him needing to elaborate on the reasons of his fear again and again in front of the people from his village.
“Ekhm,” Rakar coughed, attempting to get everyone’s attention. “There was something about things you wanted to buy, no?” he asked, looking directly at Albert. “How about you come over to the side and…” he began saying but stopped mid-sentence, his gaze shifting toward Jacob. He didn’t look at the man in the beginning as the man had little presence, but now that he took a proper look he came to have a feeling that he had seen him somewhere before. It was just… he couldn’t quite recall where or when it had been.
“Ah, that’s right!” he said out of the blue, startling everyone a little. “You are the husband of that herbalist! You’ve changed so much I almost didn’t recognize you. Is your wife with the caravan? I would love to thank her again for helping my granddaughter with the delivery all those years ago. How long has it been, twelve, thirteen years?” he asked, feeling genuinely happy to see Jacob.
“A bit longer than that,” Jacob said with a smile. “It’s already been sixteen years since you barraged into our home in the middle of the night. I remember well because it was just a day after our daughter was born. Diane, really was so stubborn, she was so weak herself but she didn’t even mention it and rushed out with you without a second thought,” her recalled melancholically, his smile turning into a sad, longing one. Every time he thought about his wife, he was amazed by how incredible of a woman she had been. He even often wondered what she had seen in someone like him… he should have asked her when he still had the chance.
“Are you speaking the truth?” Rakar asked, genuinely surprised by this piece of information. “She said something about just having had her first child… to think I never noticed anything! Could that daughter we are speaking about be this lady here? Now that I look at her, I can see a clear resemblance,” he said amiably, his voice containing true, unacted warmth. Had it not been for that herbalist’s help, his granddaughter and his grandson could have both very well died that night.
“The things you want to buy,” Rakar brought up, turning his gaze back to Jacob and failing to notice the coldness in Sarah’s eyes and the tightly clenched fists of hers, perhaps because he didn’t expect to see such things and thus wasn’t as wary as usual. “As long as it’s in reasonable amounts, we will give them to you for free. Your wife refused to hear anything about it and insisted on a normal payment, but I consider what she did for us to be a blood debt. I’m aware those little gifts won’t come close to repaying it, but please accept it,”
“What blood debt…” Sarah murmured with helpless anger, but she grit her teeth and said nothing else. It had been quite a shock for her to learn that that little boy was Mustafa’s son, but she had heard Ikarians in her village chat about Makarash in unflattering words. Thus, despite being on-guard, she could deal with this news with relative ease. However, this all-nice conversation of her useless father with that two-faced old man caused her to want to shout and yell. Had it not been for the fact that it wasn’t only her fate that rested on her shoulders, she would have already told Rakar what she thinks of him and his worthless words.
“Is something wrong, little lady?” Rakar asked, having just about heard the words Sarah said under her nose. Moreover, since he was already looking at her, he wouldn’t fail to notice the obvious hints that gave away how angry Sarah was.
“No, it’s nothing,” Sarah denied quickly and shook her head, though her teeth and her fists remained clenched tightly.
“You think you can lie to the old me?” Rakar asked amicably and smiled at Sarah. “I’m not a blockhead like that leader of our village. You are traveling with Mustafa’s son and I don’t see any Ikarians from Ulme Village with you. What happened? If the old me can help, I will do what I can,”
“… There’s nothing you need to, or can do,” Sarah said emotionlessly. “As for paying off your blood debt to my mother, it’s too late for that. Those bastards had already killed her six years ago. Shows how much you cared for your ‘blood debt’,” she said with a snort but avoided much of an eye-contact with Rakar. She knew she shouldn’t even be saying those things given her circumstance, but she couldn’t help herself; she was too frustrated to remain silent.
Hearing Sarah’s words, Rakar and many of the other villagers revealed complicated looks on their faces. They were simple people with only the old Rakar being a martial master of the first rank; even though their village was medium-sized, it wasn’t all that strong… and even if it was, then what? Most of them shared the same view that they should coexist peacefully with those of other races and faiths, but they couldn’t possibly stick their necks out for the sake of strangers. In case of Ulme Village, it was even worse as the place had been occupied by multiple strong experts; how could they have done anything? They were sympathetic but helpless.
At this very moment, when the plaza became somewhat quieter due to the strange atmosphere, the sounds of a horseman making his way through the main street reached everyone’s ears. The sound of the hooves became more and more clear until finally, a young man’s yell resounded.
“Ulme Village, Ulme Village has been destroyed! Everybody’s dead! They were all frozen to death!”
The first instant, almost everyone in the plaza was overcome with shock. Then, increasingly more people began connecting the dots and they all began sending cautious, sometimes terrified gazes toward Arslan and his group. The ones responsible for the destruction of Ulme Village, they were probably them, right?
“The best for his own, the worst for everyone else...” Turukan said quietly, a cold shiver running down his spine.