Dhanurana: Chapter 9 "The Departing"

Janurana and Dhanur decide to get out of Dodge.

***

The crowds had grown since breakfast and the city markets were in full swing. The pair pushed through the main way and stalls lining it. Rather than the few scattered among the low sections during a temple day, the entire main way up to the keep itself was packed with every sort of merchant. Food stalls assaulted the nose with every scent the plateau still had to offer alongside the foreign imports, although the most prominent was the longest lasting barely that could survive the trade routes. A few food traders pestered any Ascetic or pilgrim they saw with cases of turmeric root, spotting them among the sea of people as the only flashes of orange and yellow. The crowd had kicked up the street’s dust and a few of the foreign traders covered their mouths. Still, Janurana and Dhanur broke through, winding up the alleys to Dhanur’s home. A few of those resting in the alley's shade waved to Dhanur and rolled their eyes at how she, yet again, rebuffed their kindness. The pair were nearly running by the time they got through the door, slamming it shut as they got inside.

Dhanur slumped against the door and rubbed at her temples, half to soothe her headache and half to silence her inner voice.

‘Told you something would happen,’ it said.

‘Gehsek’s a tiger in bronze. Now he might be on his way.’

‘Maybe you should not have missed last time. Sorry. That’s a bad joke. Regardless, things are happening. They may turn out to be good after all.’

“I didn’t leave anything here, did I?” Janurana asked, peeking around the kitchen area.

“Huh? Oh, uh, no. That’s all I ever saw you with.” Dhanur waved her hand up and down motioning to Janurana’s person.

“Alright.” She took in a long, deep breath. “Then I should leave. I wish I could have remained Inside for a while longer.”

Dhanur blinked. She lowered her head and crossed her arms. The words bubbled at the rim of the pot, wanting to leave her lips but not quite able to do so. She tapped her foot.

There was a brief silence that felt much longer.

Janurana sucked her teeth, looking away from Dhanur. “But, of course it wasn’t to be. Thank you again for your great help and hospitality,” Janurana said and started toward the door.

“Probably shouldn’t hang around myself now since I went in with you. Great. Not really what was supposed to happen.” Dhanur rubbed her temples again.

Janurana sucked her teeth, facing the door. “I’m sorry associating with me led to this. I should have left earlier.” She stroked the patch on her hip.

“No. It’s fine.” Dhanur sighed. “I helped you like I should’ve when I met you. Now I may’ve helped those Light lost freaks find you. It’s only fair I find you somewhere else to stay. I know a place that’ll be safe for a bit. You should be able to rest there before moving on. Maybe head north? Up to Uttara? No gwomoni there. Though they’d probably not like a southerner. Whatever. Still, it’s a place to rest.”

Janurana chuckled silently in surprise. “I suppose you would know of such a location, madam warrior. A veteran such as yourself must have a multitude of tales.”

“What?”

“Thank you. Where is it?” She blinked with a placid smile.

“It’s uh, It’s a bit of a hike and…”

“Would it be easier if you showed me?”

“Uh, yeah. Sure. I mean, it’s that mountain up north, near Vatram. There’s a temple there and I know the guru. You can see it fine but, ya know, the Outside and the bridges are out,” Dhanur rubbed her neck.

“You really don’t have to. I’ve troubled you enough. I’ll be fine.”

“You didn’t wanna see the records when I said we should and now you have to leave. It’s only fair I make it up to you! I just said that.”

“And if you did not make me go I wouldn’t have been warned as to the lingering distaste for myself and my family after all this time.”

“Urgh!” Dhanur pouted. “Well, they don’t like me either and being associated with you now it’s probably best if I leave for a bit. Besides,” she pouted deeper, “I probably should’ve headed to this place myself a while ago so, just, ugh.”

Dhanur’s complexion hid her blush but Janurana felt it all the same.

“Okay, shall I start packing for you?” She asked. When Dhanur nodded, she pillaged the trunk next to the hearth for roti stored within. “A few days’ worth? It can’t be so far.”

“Yeah. Yeah that’s fine. We’ll see if we can hunt anything on the way too. Whatever’s left after the Scorching.” Dhanur swallowed her emotions and watered the potted shrubs that decorated her first floor. “So uh, why didn’t you wanna read the records anyway? Thought maybe finding your family would be nice.”

Janurana froze.

Dhanur pressed, carefully watching how much water the dirt soaked up, not seeing Janurana’s reaction. “I mean, I know you said they got attacked but there had to be someone left around, right?”

“Let’s just say it’s a tragedy between mother and daughter. Neither of whom want to see each other again.”

“You saw her? She’s still around? Then why did we go looking? It’s really that bad?”

“I live Outside.”

“Oh. Yeah. Yeah. Speaking of that.” Dhanur crossed to her storeroom.

As she lifted the cotton curtain, she glanced behind, noticing Janurana’s tense expression. With a gulp and a grimace, Dhanur swallowed her emotions. Her travel drinking skin was within reach, and she quickly filled it from her personal urn that was treated with imported preservatives, and took a deep sip. Its contents slid down her throat but it wasn’t easier to silence her thoughts. Dhanur felt as if the voice in her head was always on, always hopping between chiding, hopeful optimism at unexpected hindrances, to its patronizing reminders of her failures in the past and present, to combatting her confusion as to why she was even bothering to help Janurana, to reminding her that Janurana and Aarushi looked so alike.

She sipped her drink again, then pushed to the back of the store room.

Sitting upon an ornate, weathered chest, which itself was a treasure from a previous adventure, was a pair of hide burden bags meant for a bull. They were kept full of traveling essentials like bandages and extra arrows in case she had to suddenly depart. They too were covered in patches not unlike Janurana’s sari, making them a haphazard patchwork of colors. With a reluctant smile, Dhanur put them over her shoulder and pried open the chest which sent a gentle smattering of dust blowing out from inside. The trinkets contained within were as expansive as those littered about her manor, but they either never found a proper place, were too valuable to leave lying around, or were kept near the bags should she have to travel again. The largest item inside was certainly all three.

Dhanur slipped out from under the flap, the bags nestled under one arm and an ax in the other. It was double headed and three times the size of a typical woodworker’s tool. It was as well-oiled as her armor, covered in scars, and gleamed with its radiant bronze as she brought it out to the brighter main room. One head shined more than the other, being a replacement.

“Here.” Without thinking, forgetting she wasn’t in the barracks with a new levy to haze, she lobbed the monstrosity through the air and opened the burden bags. She missed when Janurana snatched it mid-flight. Its head was wider than her torso, but she plucked it from the air with little difficulty. When Dhanur’s mind caught up with what she’d done, she snapped her attention towards the young woman.

“Good catch.” Dhanur’s eyes narrowed as Janurana seemingly had no problem getting to grips with the ax, despite her comparatively diminutive size.

Janurana giggled. “Stronger than I look, eh? Climbed a lot of trees…” She let the weight of the ax pull her shoulder forward slightly, as though it were a touch too heavy, and smiled.

Dhanur stared in silence for a second. “Yeah, gotcha. Outside with tigers‘n all that. Makes sense, yeah.”

Janurana took in the ax and her eyes shined with restrained delight. She ran her fingers over the two polished heads and their still honed edges. “This is really for me?”

“Yeah.” Dhanur walked over to her and motioned over the curved double blades. “I got this one from a trader from way, far out east. Past the Rivers and the Valley far. Said it was different from the ones they used even there which’re like the axes around here. Ya know, like that bar on the end of a stick, not this half circle on each side. It’s nice, right? But he said he got it from someone from the Valley so who knows? I’ve tested it so it should hold up for ya.”

“Letting the Kumari handle fighting up close while you loose from afar? How valiant.” Janurana chuckled.

“What? No!” Dhanur flushed with more embarrassment and frustration and rubbed her neck. “It’s, you know, two handed, like how you always hold your parasol and, I don’t know, I figured you’d like this.”

“It’s fine. Only teasing.”

Dhanur downed more drink, more annoyed at herself than Janurana for overreacting so quickly. She took in a few quiet rapid breaths and returned to the storeroom to top off her drink skin.

Rolling her eyes at the childish display, Janurana looked over her ax again. She wasn’t entirely familiar with weapons, but she knew enough to check the head, ensure it was flush to the handle and sharp, if the grip was well oiled, things she’d seen warriors do. She stopped and cocked her head. For a moment, she was sure she had seen an ax just like it, but even more than with Hegwous and Gehsek’s name, her memory was completely blank. It worried Janurana, but there were other memories she was glad she had blocked out, thus she slotted the gap into that category. She looked over her shoulder to see Dhanur was still in the storeroom and gave the ax a few swings, swiping, chopping, and pretending to lose balance with its weight as Dhanur emerged.

“Careful there. So, I know ya said you liked your old sari but your boots were pretty worn. So, here.” Dhanur placed a pair of spare boots gingerly at Janurana’s feet.

“Thank you, Madam Dhanur.” Janurana slid one on, pursing her lips as it was a bit too big. “The Maharaj,” she began, continuing despite Dhanur’s flinch. “Is she one of the people you said I resembled?”

“Yeah.” Dhanur took another drink.

“Will she be okay if you leave?”

Dhanur paused. “Should be. Aarushi’s young, not sick. We’re not fighting Uttara either. Be weird if she dropped dead. Let’s just go.”

***

Arriving at the northern gate, Dhanur hoisted the bags over her shoulders as they stood in the center of the crowd. It was smaller than those at the other three gates, but still enough to have them surrounded by traders, workers going to collect firewood, city guards going to procure the arrows loosed last night, and far less young pilgrims from the sun temple than there would have been before the Scorching, all of whom had their personal escorts. Most, especially the well-armed bodyguards, gave Dhanur a wide berth. She was prepped for travel with her hood up to keep her hair at bay. None had as ornate a piece of armor as her or a weapon as bright as her Kalia bone covered bow. Janurana was as conspicuous, her parasol held aloft and ax slotted into her sari’s sash. She looked over the gate’s surroundings and the crowd. Each trader had either a cart they pulled themselves, or a bull of their own for hauling the load. The last straggling few rushed from the stables near the gate with their bulls in tow, but Dhanur still had her bags on her person.

The gate churned open once the final traders had taken their place in the mob. Janurana enjoyed watching the metal bars rhythmically sliding out of place. First was the single massive block of gleaming bronze. It ponderously slid up like a living, lumbering beast. It was oddly silent for something so large. Other mechanisms tripped once it had risen and countless smaller bars gave way, each slotting into place or sliding up to the top of the wall. Still by the same crank worked atop the wall, the doors scraped open, revealing the land before them.

The chalky reddish brown dust of the weathered paths out of the Capital blew against the front of the mob. As Dhanur and Janurana were pushed out by the weight of the leaving crowd, they slid through the mass to find position next to a scraggly tree, marking a fading path directly north into the stumps and forest outside the Capital. Janurana still held her parasol, with her fingers slotted somehow deeper into their usual space on its handle. She scuffed the dirt with her new boots, getting used to their size.

She noticed Dhanur’s quiet gaze off into the distance, focused on a lonely mountain directly north and straight along the path on which they stood. Janurana looked at it as well, swearing as she did on the Keep’s hill that she had seen one just like it before but was still unable to place it. Regardless, she trailed off to look at the familiar and much larger eastern range. She followed their slopes down to the endless crags and canyons, cut deep by the seemingly ever flowing water from the eastern mountains, to the broken, still singed trees clinging to life. At night, they appeared almost pitch black and totally lifeless except for their semi shifting outlines. But in the day their light brown bark had no nefarious creatures. The Light above kept them at bay. And it revealed how difficult it was for the trees to recover. Few had a green leaf among them, but they weren’t dead yet. With another glance at Dhanur, Janurana released a silent sigh, then seized up realizing she was no longer in the city. It took a moment to summon the courage to look up again, at the Outside, where she was once more.

Dhanur broke her own stare at the northern mountain and watched the crowd dissipate along their more traveled routes east, west, and even going around the city south to avoid the crowds at the southern gate. But very few followed a northern road. Some of the other paths connected to northern routes which she was sure the last northern trader in the Capital would take. She wondered how they planned to navigate the broken bridges across the canyons, but left the thought at ‘they have magic or something’. No one took the minute path near the pair.

The last out were a few Keep guards with their scales or breastplates followed by an entourage of city guards and mercenaries. Both Dhanur and Janurana snapped upright, gripping whatever they were holding. But they didn’t to notice the pair. Each went east, west, even south. One of the city guards waved to Dhanur. He was the man she had met at the temple. She waved back, awkwardly.

“A few could be going south to loop back ‘n follow us,” Dhanur stated.

Janurana thought for a moment. “When I had to hunt a deer, I didn’t let it spot me and then try to kill it.”

Dhanur crossed her arms. She looked up to the top of the wall. No guards were watching them. She pointed up.

“You’re right. If I was gonna chase me without me noticing, I’d have someone up there tell me which way I went, then follow later.”

“Then where are they going?” Janurana turned to leave.

“All over,” Dhanur said, inching backwards while still scanning the wall for prying eyes.

Janurana blinked slowly, frowning. “Why?”

“Probably to scout the north and watch the Borderlands. Most are heading south through the other gates. Heard patrols were heading that way to secure the roads. There’s more trade with the ports out west and, you know, more imps around. But maybe they’re collecting forces for a new attack on the north? I dunno, only guessing. Still gotta make the roads safe though.” Dhanur looked over the runes at the base of the wall, grimacing.

“Dhanur. May we please depart? Day only lasts so long.” Janurana picked up her pace down the path.

“Yeah. Yeah.” Dhanur hiked up her bags. “Before they do send someone out.”

The gate was still scraping back into place as they walked. Flecks of hardy moss had sprouted up along the route’s edges, reclaiming it. Dhanur tried to avoid them. For a while the path wound through the forest of stumps and saplings. They could easily see axmen chopping down the tree line further away and throwing the logs onto carts to bring back into the city.

It wasn’t long before the path broke through the forest and hugged the side of a canyon with the other flanked by the remaining trees. Janurana looked down, seeing Capital denizens working a crane to ferry urns of water from the river below. After a sharp turn, the Capital had vanished behind the forest’s brown, flakey remains.

“Dhanur?” Janurana poked the bull bags which were clearly weighing on Dhanur’s shoulders. “Excuse me?”

“Just give me a second. Okay?” Dhanur sucked in a breath, peeking back behind her ensuring the city was out of sight.

“Splendid! So you do have one. I was beginning to worry. Who would have thought? A woman of wealth without a bull of her own,” she chuckled.

Dhanur grumbled, rolling her eyes before taking a swig of her drink bag. “Just, okay, just don’t freak out. Okay?”

Janurana paused, cocking her head as Dhanur readied herself. After holstering her drink skin, and setting the bags down, she took in a full breath and extended her arm. In a fluid, but mechanical motion she took hold of a single hair.

And a sudden burst of shadows sprayed from her veins as if each had been hit by an arrow. Her forehead flashed with a black lattice of stained arteries like a spider’s web. Janurana leapt back, but Dhanur remained focused, breathing in and out as she did when she fought. The shadows coalesced on the single hair and with a quick yank she pulled it from her scalp. They weighed the hair down, so she let it fall from her fingertips. Once it touched the dirt, the shadows rapidly expanded, taking the shape of a large, black, mangey bull. A torn rope hung around his neck as naturally as his dewlap with the hump of its shoulders deflating with age. Its horns, though still rigid and pointing towards the sky, looked brittle. Regardless, its radiant yellow eyes stared forward, unblinking.

Dhanur took a step forward, raising a hand to stroke its snout, before retracting it. She curled her fingers in. Instead, she gazed into its eyes, but received no response. She placed the bags on its back with still no reaction.

Dhanur stared at the path and took in a breath. “His uh, his name’s Dekha,” she said.

Janurana’s jaw hung open and her eyes were wide. But rather than surprise, her face was completely blank, as empty as her memories of Hegwous and Gehsek and her new ax. Her eyes refused to dart side to side and she focused with the preternatural terror of someone coming face to face with death itself. Only when she could no longer stand it, she blinked and came back to reality. Instinct flared and she wanted to bolt away. But her legs were frozen. Still, she refused to look away from what Dhanur had summoned.

Dhanur had seen plenty die. Whether it was war, raids, or even traveling, she had watched the life drain from peoples’ eyes and could read the unmistakably genuine and abject terror on Janurana’s face.

“I know. I know. It’s gwomoni magic.” She held out her hand. “He’s not mine. I got this boy from a few of the blood sucking freaks.” Dhanur slid her hand along his bags, as if she were petting him.

Janurana silently took stock of the situation.

‘Dhanur has given me a weapon, led me from people who may have wanted to kill me, twice, or could have turned me in at the Keep to get her warrior class back. If she wanted to, Dhanur would have tried something by now,’ Janurana thought, mumbling to herself.

“It’s that,” Janurana said aloud. She smoothed out her sari’s front even though it didn’t need it. “The last people I witnessed using magic like that were the very opposite of kind to me.”

Janurana stepped forward to slide the ax into the saddlebags. Dhanur cautiously held out a hand and only placed it on Janurana’s shoulder when their eyes met.

“I bet. They weren’t any better to me. But Dekha here ain’t gonna hurt you. You could put your chin on his horns and he’d just stand there. He’s a calm boy.”

Janurana slipped around to his front, deciding to test that theory. Dekha didn’t react, and seeing such a big and old beast, she couldn’t help herself. “He’s quite a big boy.”

Dhanur was fussing with the bags, and didn’t notice Janurana stroke Dekha’s hump until it was too late. Janurana’s fingers had already reached his hide, and it gave way. Dhanur seized her arm and Janurana tensed immediately. After a brief pause Janurana looked back down. Dekha’s skin had fallen off at the slightest touch.

“It comes back.” Dhanur, put her hand on Janurana’s shoulder again.

“Alright.” Janurana nodded. Her eyes shrunk to normal size.

“He, uh, he was brought back to life. Ya know, by gwomoni. I guess he was just gonna carry stuff. The bags actually came with him, like that rope on his neck. I was able to steal him away and get him bound to me instead.”

“Mm. Understandable.” Janurana gently, stymying her revulsion, brushed the flakes from her hands. They melted in the air, fading to tendrils of shadows that slithered back into place to become his skin again.

With forced grace Janurana circled to one side of Dekha’s head. She did her best to avoid staring directly into his eyes, but couldn’t resist. She peered into the abyss that was his stare. Rather than eyes, they were more like polished chunks of topaz, though transparent, and affixed atop a bottomless well. She shivered as Dhanur took hold of Dekha’s rope. It flexed against him, but rather than peel apart as before, his neck moved naturally as Dhanur tugged him along. The bags too had no effect on him.

Dhanur shrugged when Janurana gave her a puzzled look. “My guess is these were with him when he died so they’re, like, a part of him? I dunno. I never really asked those gwomoni.”

“How serendipitous,” Janurana chuckled to herself, following along.

“What?”

“The bull was a symbol of my house.” She pointed to the tiny, faded bullhead on her sari.

Dhanur hadn’t even noticed it. “Really? Then what does serendipitous mean?”

Janurana took in a long breath through her nose. “Why don’t you regale me with tales of your exploits?”

“What?” Dhanur recoiled her head in embarrassment.

“Tell me about when you got Dekha.” Janurana gave another placid smile.

“You, uh, ever met a gwomoni out here?” Dhanur began.

“I have, yes.”

“So, yeah. Started working with the Maharaj and before she was, ya know. We trained a lot, me, her, and another woman. This time I was practicing hunting the gwomoni down on my own. Went pretty far south to stay out of Hegwous and Gehsek’s eyes. Picked up on a few and started tracking a few of ‘em. They were down in a canyon, looking over a dry riverbed. I was high enough so they couldn’t see or stop me if I shot down. The wind was coming my way so they wouldn’t smell me neither.” Dhanur smirked and Janurana awkwardly smiled back. “Before I could find a proper spot to shoot down, they did what I did and summoned Dekha here. I circled around closer, hoping to take them out before they could summon somethin’ worse. But Dekha here ripped my ears a new hole. He started screaming some kinda scream I’ve never heard from a bull.”

“I suppose you’ve never seen a bull come from a person’s head either,” Janurana added.

“Ha! I Guess not.” Dhanur looked at the sun and it was a bit past midday. Janurana glanced behind them, but nothing was following. “Anyway, a column of light comes outta his eyes like a Light Ascetic’s blast too! But it didn’t hurt me. It was sort of, pointing me out, like the fires on the walls. So, no more surprise. I was still able to get the first easy. Arrow right through the heart.”

Janurana nodded, clutching her chest as Dhanur hiked Dekha on.

“Bit more of a fight on the last two. One held up her hand and like how Dekha came from their head, some kinda spears showed up, little throwing ones. Kinda like a northerner summoning a weapon, except she was fair enough to be a full foreigner. She flung them at me while the other scurried up the canyon wall but that one, the one not summoning weapons, was as dark as a northerner. Still, she was climbing with no vines or nothing, free climbing. They were kinda slow since it was day then and pushing through the sun. Left their parasols when the fighting started. I had to hop back and wait for the climbing one to make her way up. She wasn’t easy to hear since, ya know, Dekha alarming. Can’t hear them anyway, I guess. But I just popped her right in the eye when I saw her head.” Dhanur mimed the shot. “She didn’t like that.”

“I assume.”

“Yeah, she fell’n the other started coming up but didn’t make that mistake. She put her hand over the edge first, then leapt up. ‘Course, nobody ever checks up.” Dhanur smirked and mimed another shot. “From the tree, in the shoulder, down into the heart. Got my arrow back and didn’t see the one that fell. Her tracks had gone cold too. But by then Dekha stopped yellin’ and shining his eyes. But he hadn’t moved at all. He was still standing there. I went to touch him and he burst into smoke like the ones he comes from and sank into my hand. That hurt real bad! I saw him travel up my veins to my head. Crazy, right? I started freaking out, almost thought to try and cut them out, but they went back to their normal color and I wasn’t dead. So, I did what they did to draw him out and there he was. Been with me ever since… Sorry. I’m not the best at telling stories.”

But as Dhanur finished, Janurana’s back tensed. She shot a look behind her, seeing nothing, but that did nothing to calm her.

“Yes, yes. Wonderful! Tell me about it.” Janurana walked faster.

“I already-Hey!” Dhanur called as her companion passed her. “We still have a bit before night! Ugh. Stupid, dowsing Kumari, ugh.”

Above, the ethereal wisp of Deiweb’s smoke meandered about, silently groaning with boredom. Though he was too far up to hear, he knew their conversation had to be banal. With all the following and all the waiting for them to leave the city, he was wondering more and more if simply killing them would be worth the lack of an actual offering. As his gaze lazed, he noticed something trailing the pair. He could barely make out the silvery blue and translucent figure with his superior eyes. It was still a ways behind them, trying to make its way around the walls from the other side of the city, shuddering and leaping from place to place between his blinks. The capital residents and guards didn’t see it at all and when it brushed past them they all shuttered or flailed as if walking through a spider’s web.

‘That’s not mine,’ he thought, intrigued.