From the Valley of Orchids (The Legend of Saru Book 1) by Niels Saunders

Author:Niels Saunders [Saunders, Niels]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Imperial Press
Published: 2023-05-19T22:00:00+00:00

17

BELOW A SWALLOWED SUN

WITH THE PRINCELY MAN NOW DEAD, the crowd dispersed. Just as quickly as Saru saw him, Ihara disappeared into the bustling mass. Paws trembling, Saru took out his paper and charcoal and wrote: Ihara is here. He gave it to the nearest guard who knelt in his creaking armour and raised his snarling wolf faceplate.

“I heard tall tales of a smart monkey in this village,” the guard said as he read, “but this surpasses them all.”

“Ukiki!” Saru pointed at the crowd where Ihara had stood.

The guard nodded and showed the note to one of his peers. They muttered for a while, more interested in the literate monkey than the message. Saru glanced back at the crowd, searching for a familiar face. There he saw Emi from the tavern, the farm girl who silenced the room with her song about foxfires and willows. He bounded over and clambered up her robe while she shrieked and tried to swat him away. Careful not to sink his claws too deep, he dodged most of her blows and perched on her shoulder. When she saw him there, she recognised him, and smiled in relief.

“Estera take my soul,” she said. “I thought you were some kind of beast.”

Fur bristling, he squinted at the sea of faces. Ihara’s aroma still hung in the air: yuzu, rice wine, seaweed. But so many other scents were present that he could not fix a trail. He hopped from her shoulder to the next. It belonged to a tall and muscular man he recognised as the blacksmith. On and on, Saru hopped, glancing back and forth.

But Ihara was long gone.

Deflated, Saru jumped down and plodded back to the market square. The guards were discussing a village-wide search and securing a perimeter. For all their good intentions, Saru knew it was too late.

Worried about Yuba, he headed home and found her sleeping on her pallet after another long night’s work. He had barely seen her grieve after Okina’s death. Amid the smoke and chanting of his funeral pyre, she did not wail in despair or sob on her knees. She merely stared into the flames as if searching for answers. Perhaps her pain was so immense it could not be expressed at all.

“There you are.”

Neko was perched on the windowsill, purring and swishing her tail, black fur resplendent in the sun.

He hopped up beside her. “I’m sorry about earlier. It seems I drew a spot of attention.”

She stared until he looked away. “You did the right thing, Saru. It may well cost you later, but at least it’s one less thing you’ll have to regret. The crowd today felt many things. Pity, joy, revulsion—among countless others. But for all those feelings, nobody intervened. It took a brave little snow monkey who couldn’t help but follow his heart.”

“I saw Ihara in the crowd.”

“As did I, but just as I saw him, he slipped away. And so, I jumped from roof to roof until I glimpsed him again: fleeing down a mud path between the storehouses while glancing around as if searching for something.

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