Brave Story - Miyuki Miyabe [195]
His life had been saved two times along the way.
The mud where he lay was cold but soft. Chilly air wrapped around him. Realizing he couldn’t sit there forever, he tried to stand, but the ground was so slippery even that proved difficult. He looked around for something to hold on to, but the only thing nearby was a patch of thin reeds, and they provided little in the way of support.
By the time he was standing on two feet again, Wataru was covered in mud. The bandage around the arrow wound on his calf was black and filthy. He knew he had to change it soon. What was that horrible disease Mom was always saying I’d get? Tetanus or something?
Wataru parted the stand of reeds with his hands and saw a flat black expanse of ground ahead. A clearing, he thought. But when he approached, he found it was less of a clearing and more of a muddy lake. The water rippled faintly in the night breeze, reflecting the starlight. He stood at the quiet shore, and the cold night air enveloped him.
Wataru sneezed. He began to shiver.
Where am I now? It’s so dark here, so cold. I’m practically freezing.
He examined his surroundings by the starlight. The muddy lake was so large that much of it faded into the dark distance and he could not see the far shoreline. Behind him a wide expanse of reeds and other swamp grass extended to the edge of his vision as well. There was one irregularity: up ahead and to the right he could see a larger lump of darkness, like a small forest. A faint light came from its center. Wataru stared at it a long time but couldn’t tell what it was.
Wataru hugged himself, trying to stay warm, and began to walk. May as well go and see what I find. Better than staying here and dying of pneumonia. Walking will keep me warm, and maybe dawn will come soon.
The closer he got to the forest, the better he could see the object that caught his eye. It was a lantern, or maybe even a torch.
The cool, muddy flats seemed completely devoid of life. The silent night was punctuated by the soft cooing of wild birds. He could make out a small, triangular roof among the trees. It was a hut, somewhat smaller than the one where he had first met Wayfinder Lau. Even though it was partially obscured by trees, Wataru could tell the light he’d seen in the distance was emanating from its window.
He knocked on the door and called out, “Hello? Is anybody home?”
There was no answer. He knocked at the door again, announcing himself as a traveler on the road who had lost his way. There was the sound of faint footsteps, and the door opened inward. A small robed individual peered out—the robe’s hood completely masked the person’s identity.
“Sorry to call so late at night,” Wataru said, bowing his head. “I’ve lost my way, and I saw your light so I thought—if it’s not too much trouble, might I rest here a moment? Perhaps you could help me find my way?”
The voice that came from under the hood was surprisingly soft. “You’re wounded.”
It’s a woman.
Wataru looked at the fingers holding open the door. They were white and slender.
“Please, come in. That wound of yours needs tending to.”
The woman stepped to the side and let Wataru into the small room beyond. A fire was burning brightly in the fireplace. A lamp sat in the window. There was a small rocking chair—still rocking slightly—next to the fireplace where the woman had most likely been sitting a moment before.
She motioned for Wataru to sit on a small wooden stool. She immediately began to tend his injury. A while later, she brought him a mug of something hot and warm.
“Thank you. Thank you so much.”
The woman nodded, her face still hidden in the shadow of her hood.
“You should change. I’m afraid I don’t have clothes your size, though.”
“It’s okay.”
“Perhaps just a shirt, then. I believe I have one large enough.”
Wataru was glad for her charity. Grabbing his muddy shirt and the bloodsoaked bandages, the woman stepped outside.
The inside of the