Naroka

After leaving the Old Tavern, Lumian stood on the packed-earth road, hesitating over where he should go. The morning sunlight spilled down, carrying a faint chill. Just then, Raymond Craig came over from the side. "I was just about to come looking for you." "Is something the matter?" Lumian put on his normal face again and asked deliberately. Raymond looked astonished. "Did you forget? Today we're going to find the old people who are still alive, about my grandfather's age, and ask them about the sorcerer legend." Lumian raised a hand and pressed it to his head, his face full of pain. "Really? Why don't I remember that? Or maybe you're hallucinating?" Startled and frightened, Raymond was just about to go over the details and work out whether yesterday had been something he'd imagined, when he suddenly saw a smile appear on Lumian's face. "You bastard, you're playing practical jokes again!" Raymond couldn't help but curse. "Not much force behind that." Lumian clicked his tongue. "Even Awa can curse better than you." Awa Liqiye was a pretty girl from Koldu village, and these days she was the "goose girl." Her father, Guillaume Liqiye, was a shoemaker. He was good at turning the leather the shepherds supplied into leather shoes, and he was fairly well known in the villages around. "Awa..." Raymond's expression shifted. Then he looked at Lumian. "Awa is our friend, isn't she?" "Yes." Lumian nodded with a smile. The three of them, plus Guillaume of the Berry family and Awa's younger cousin Azema Liqiye, were the youngsters who often spent their time together. "Why don't we let Awa join us in investigating the truth of the legend?" Raymond made the suggestion. "You know how her father is always saying, 'Why must a woman be handed a share of the property when she marries? How many decent families have been ruined that way.' It makes her very uneasy. If she could get some treasure or a reward out of the investigation, she'd feel a good deal safer." "I've heard the men who head several households in the village say the same sort of thing, the parish priest included. They'd like their own brothers to stay at home forever—and even if those brothers marry, never to move out and set up a household of their own, since that means handing over the share of property due to them." Lumian glanced at Raymond with a smile and spoke as though casually. "So a lot of families would rather send one of the children off to be a shepherd. That way he'll almost never marry, he'll bring in some income, and most of the time he'll be able to feed himself." Raymond's face gradually darkened. He really had never thought about that. This was also why he liked spending time with Lumian. Most of the village said the fellow had a nasty character, that he liked to lie and play practical jokes, but his understanding really did surpass everyone of their age. Not like himself—he knew little, drifted through his days in a muddle, and could only follow his family's arrangements. Good, so now he knows... Lumian thought to himself, then steered the conversation back on track. "There's no time for that now. We have to hurry and question people. We can go find Awa tomorrow. Hmm, and afterward we can bring Little Guillaume and Azema in too. Besides whatever we might gain from it, it'll be an interesting outing that trains our abilities." "Bring Little Guillaume and Azema in too?" Raymond was a little reluctant. The more people there were to split the reward, the less he would get. And most importantly, that way he'd lose his chance to win favor with Awa. Lumian looked at the fellow, a little more kindness and pity in his gaze. You silly boy, do you really think Awa would take a liking to you? Her eyebrows are set high—she only wants to marry into a good family. She clearly has some fondness for a "villain" like me, and even so she can control herself... In the idiom of the Dariège region, "high eyebrows" meant having high standards, looking down on ordinary people. "My sister says there's strength in numbers," Lumian explained briefly. "Which old people do we need to visit?" "You haven't done any investigating?" Raymond asked in surprise. What with that "Wands" card business, when would I have had the energy to ask around... Lumian smiled. "Of course I've investigated. I just want to test your skill at gathering information." Raymond didn't doubt him. "There are nine old people still alive in the village, about my grandfather's age or a bit older. They are..." Six women, three men. So the ladies really do live longer... After listening quietly to the end, Lumian thought for a moment. "We don't need to visit the last two. They're from other villages; they married in. "Uh... we'll start by asking Naroka. She's the oldest, and she was probably already grown up when that business with the sorcerer happened." Naroka wasn't her real name; it was an honorific for her. In Leston Province, married women from prominent families, or who effectively headed their households, were entitled to the title "Madame." Specifically, an "a" was added to the end of the name to mark the feminine, and "Na" was placed in front of it, meaning "madame," "mistress of the house." Madame Pualis, first because her family had declined long ago and second because at home she had to obey the administrator Beost, could not take the "Na" and the "a"; people could only address her with the plain word "Madame." Naroka's husband had died young, and she had taken the whole household on her own shoulders. Even after her two sons grew up, married, and had children of their own, and she herself had grown old, she still held the family's purse strings. This was quite rare in Koldu village. In most cases the man was the one in charge; in a household without a father, once the children came of age they would naturally take back from their mother the authority to run the family. "All right." Raymond had no questions. After going around several buildings, Lumian saw four old women sitting in front of a two-story house, sunning themselves and chatting idly. At the same time, sitting close together as they were, they were picking lice off one another, looking quite at ease. —In the countryside of the Republic of Intis, picking lice off one another was an amusement that drew people closer and showed affection. "Go ask now?" Raymond hesitated slightly. He was afraid word of the two of them searching for the truth of the legend would spread. "Wait a bit." Lumian nodded gravely. As far as he knew, many of the village's rumors were born at gatherings like this and spread outward layer by layer. After quite a while, the other three old women left one after another, since they still had work to do at home. "Good morning, Naroka." Lumian walked over at once. Naroka's hair was white and her eyes were somewhat clouded. She wore a dark dress of coarse cloth; her hands looked as if they were covered in chicken skin, and there were obvious blotches on her face. "When is Aurore coming out to a gathering? Lots of people in the village miss her." Naroka looked at Lumian and asked with a smile. Lots of men, you mean? Lumian slipped into his habit of letting her talk while he followed his own thread, and asked with a curious expression, "Naroka, I hear you've seen a real sorcerer? The one where nine oxen couldn't even budge the coffin." Naroka's expression changed slightly. "Who told you that?" "His grandfather came back in the night and told him," Lumian began making things up. Naroka was taken aback. "Can souls really come home..." "My father told me. Grandfather talked about it while he was alive," said Raymond, unable to stand Lumian lying to the old woman. Naroka actually seemed a little disappointed, and only spoke after a long while. "Before that man died, none of us knew he was a sorcerer. He behaved perfectly normally." Just like none of you know Aurore is a sorceress... Lumian answered in his heart. "Until he suddenly died, and that owl came flying..." Naroka sank into her memories. What she said after that was basically the same as the legend. Lumian pressed further. "Where did that sorcerer live at the time?" Naroka glanced at him. "Where you and Aurore live now. "After the sorcerer was buried, the parish priest of that time took some men and carried off the valuables, then burned the house down. For twenty or thirty years no one dared go near the place. Later on, it was gradually forgotten, and after that Aurore came, bought that plot of land, and built a house on it again." Our house? Lumian was startled. That answer was completely beyond what he had expected! In an instant, some questions he usually ignored came to mind: With Aurore's ability to make money, with the extraordinary powers she kept hidden, why would she settle in a backwater like Koldu village? Whether it was Bigorre, the provincial capital, or Suxite, the textile center, or Trier, the capital, all were better choices. Even if she wanted to pick somewhere with good surroundings and clean air, those big cities had districts she could choose from. Aurore had once said that the best hiding place was in a big city... Lumian's thoughts churned and would not settle. Only today did he learn that the plot Aurore had chosen, the plot on which she had built the house, had once belonged to a sorcerer... "Where was that sorcerer buried?" Raymond beside him couldn't help asking. There was no hope of the property in the house; all that was left was to see whether the sorcerer's remains were unusual in any way. Naroka said with amusement, "Something that big was bound to alarm the parish priest. "People used nine oxen to drag the coffin to the churchyard beside the church, and the parish priest performed a ritual and purified it. In the end the corpse was burned to ashes, a hole was dug, and it was buried." "I see..." Raymond couldn't hide his disappointment. "What are you asking all this for?" Naroka studied his expression for a while, then asked. Lumian laughed and told the truth that sounded more like a lie: "We want to find the sorcerer's treasure." "Young people shouldn't be forever dreaming," Naroka admonished. "All right." Lumian looked very meek. He and Raymond said goodbye to Naroka and set off along the road to the village square. "There's no hope, Lumian. There's no hope for this business," Raymond said dejectedly once they had rounded a building. "True enough. What should have been burned was burned, and what was taken away was taken decades ago." Lumian nodded. Because the business of the dream had opened up an opportunity, he wasn't quite so disappointed. Raymond agreed. "Yeah. In the whole legend, the only thing that hasn't been destroyed is that owl." "The owl..." Lumian's eyes lit up, and he turned his gaze toward the forests and hills outside the village. Raymond shuddered and hurriedly added, "But after all these years, it must be long dead." He was very much afraid of coming into contact with an evil creature like an owl. In the south of Intis, owls, nightingales, and crows were all considered ill-omened, evil creatures in the service of the devil; they often carried off human souls or brought bad luck.