Brave Story - Miyuki Miyabe [133]
“Why you little…” the man swung his fist. Just then something came flying out from the lodge and struck the man in the face. It was a wet towel.
“None of that!” came a loud voice. It was the unfriendly woman from before, standing with her hands on her hips and glaring at the man. “Drunkard! Get back to your room or I’ll toss you out into the road!”
The inebriated man suddenly became meek, and walked past Wataru into the lodge.
His room is right next to mine!
“Thank you,” Wataru said to the woman. She made no reply, but picked up her towel and tossed it into a nearby wooden bucket filled with murky water.
Wataru had an idea. “Ma’am?”
The woman wrung dirty water out of her towel with thick arms and said nothing.
“Actually, I’m looking for work, to pay for my journey. Is there anything I might do here, like, maybe, cleaning?”
The woman looked at Wataru out of the corner of her eye and spat, “What are your parents thinking, sending a little boy like you out on the road alone?”
Then she picked up her bucket and walked away. Deflated, Wataru trudged back to his room. My parents…As he was falling asleep, Wataru saw his mother drifting across his mind’s eye. That’s right, the Mirror of Truth. I have to find it quick—I have to tell Mom I’m okay.
Wataru slept soundly, with no dreams. It was a peaceful, restful sleep. But he awoke with a jolt.
“Wake up! Wake up, I said!”
Wataru’s eyes blinked open. The innkeeper with the bristly beard had him by the neck and was shaking him. It was already light outside, and the morning sun through the window hurt his eyes.
“Huh? What’s wrong?”
“As if you didn’t know!” the bearded man shouted, dragging Wataru out of bed. “Get up, I say. Sleepy eyes won’t fool me, murderer!”
Murderer? The word was like a bucket of ice water dumped over his head. Wataru was wide awake now.
“What do you mean ‘murderer’? Did somebody die?”
“Don’t play the fool with me! Look at your hands!”
Wataru took a glance at his hands and his breath stopped. They were covered in blood. It wasn’t only his hands. His undergarments, too, were caked with dried crimson. What’s going on? What happened?
“No use feigning innocence this time!” the man shouted. “You cut the throat of the man in the room next door. This blood is proof of it. You killed him and took his money, didn’t you? Tell me—where did you hide it? Where’s your knife?”
Still in shock, Wataru was tied up with rope and dragged outside in front of the lodge. A crowd of onlookers had already gathered. Some of them began shouting angrily. Any other day, Wataru might have been surprised that the faces in the crowd were those of dogs, cats, bears, even lions, but right now he had more important things to worry about.
“He’s just a boy!”
“I always said ankha were precocious!”
“And this is the third he’s killed? Monster!”
“I’ve heard of a boy thief, but he’s a murderer too?”
The words came at Wataru in a frightening whirlwind of sound. The faces were drawn, as if gazing upon something horrible. Wataru’s spine went cold.
I haven’t killed anyone. I haven’t even stolen anything. What are they talking about, three people?
“C’mon!” The bearded innkeeper gave Wataru a swift kick in the pants, and yanked on the rope tied around him. “It’s off to the branch with you.”
The inn’s proprietor began dragging his bound prisoner through the streets of the city. He looked as proud as he was angry, and occasionally he would announce in a loud voice that he had caught the young murderer, scourge of Gasara.
People looked from doorways and windows as Wataru stumbled down the street. Some of the lodge patrons even fell in behind them. He heard a child clapping and shouting in a shrill voice, “They caught him! The killer-thief’s been caught!”
Up to this point Wataru had been mute with confusion and terror, but when he heard the boy he shouted, “I haven’t done anything! This is all a mistake!”
The innkeeper lashed out with his foot again, and Wataru was knocked