12 – The Great Chill

The great chill began in earnest by the next week. Cold winds blew perpetually in from the bay and it seemed every night was marked by sheets of snowfall. It hadn't taken long for it to blanket a swathe of Tiode, and the once green plains and trees were coated white near as far as the eye could see.

The locals were used to it, of course, and settled into a routine that had probably been maintained for generations. Men walked the paths and a portion of the main road leading into the village, gritting them with salt to cut walkable tracks through the town.

And in the mornings and late afternoon the younger members of the village would patrol the docks, ensuring the weather left no damage to hinder the boats. Sailors, particularly those from the Shadow Caravan, were set to be a rare sight for the foreseeable future.

But, for me and mine at least, all was well.

A warm fire crackled in the hearth of the inn that evening, bathing it in a warm orange glow, and I walked the common room while our few guests enjoyed the comforts we had.

"You know something?" One of our guests, Ketsu, looked at me bleary eyed as he sat up at the bar. He was watching me as best he could, for a man who's pupils faced different direction.

"What?" I asked, clearing his empty sake cup from the bar.

"For a western man, you're alright," he said, trying and failing not to slur.

"High praise," I said, giving him a flat look.

"I only ever known a few westerners. Your lot are..." He struggled to contain a burp, which echoed noisily through the common room all the same. "Barbarians an' savages," he eventually continued, after swallowing some vomit, "but I'd rather live with a hundred westerners before sharin' a room with a single Cathayan."

I raised one brow. I supposed that was a good a compliment as I could get from a stone drunk merchant.

"They're worse'n savages, you know," he said, sagging back on the bar with only his two elbows supporting him. "Murderers an' thieves by blood. They'll steal the eyes from your skull before you know it. But they're cunning, see. That's what makes 'em dangerous, and different from barbarians. Ain't their numbers, or their cultivators, it's their silver tongues."

"Ketsu," I watched him, "are you gonna order another drink, or are you gonna jaw my ear off all night."

He grumbled, tossing a pair of gin onto the counter. "I reckon another drink is a wonderful idea," said Ketsu.

I didn't know too much about the history of Cathaya and Tsukio, beyond the few tall tales that made their way across the sea. But they'd had their share of wars over the centuries, for all manner of different things. Feuding families, disputes over the waters between their lands, perceived insults... One tale went so far as to sat that the strait that divided the lands had been formed by a clash of different cultivators.

Kingdoms always found something to feud over. War was, after all, a very handy tool for rulers.

There came a scream from outside, snapping me from my thoughts. I grimaced. "Always something."

Another of our guests, a lean old merchant woman by the name of Michiru, came rushing in. She nearly dropped the smoking pipe she was carrying, and a few windy whorls of snow followed her in.

"O-outside!" she shouted, her face pale as the snow. Drained so white it was if she'd had her throat cut. "C-cart! P-p-people! Dead!"

I sighed and made my way through the doorway. Smoke followed, leaving the fireside, and Yamato set his broom aside so he could join me.

There was indeed a cart outside, the ragged and scarred horse at the front of it having come to a shaky halt. Arrows had thudded into the sides of the vehicle, buried in deep.

Sure enough the people on the driver's bench, bundled under many layers of clothing, looked dead. A man and a woman. The former had so many arrows sprouting from her that she looked like a macabre tree. The man didn't look much better.

"Damn," I muttered. I made for the horse, stroking the side of his neck. "You did what you could. Good lad. Good lad." He was steaming from the exertion, shaking on his hooves. "Smoke, fetch Guang and Asquith. Might still be able to do something for this horse."

"And the people?" Yamato asked.

"Look at them," I said. "Stone stiff and riddled with arrows. Suppose we can bury 'em in the morn-"

The man shuddered, a wretched gasp rising in his throat. His cough was wet, gargling, and blood sprayed from his snow-dusted mouth.

"Never mind," I said. I lifted the man like I was carrying a bride. Not gentle, but he was past the point of a soft touch. "Check her pulse." Yamato did so as I walked back to the inn, and I saw him shake his head.

Couldn't claim to be too surprised.

It was a bit of a fiasco getting things set up in the common room, shooing the guests back to their rooms. Yomi pushed a table for the man to lay upon, and Guang and Asquith both came to tend to the wounds of the man and his horse.

And at some point, in the chaos of it all, Iudex Ryuga entered. His eyes were tired, his clothes marked with streaks of frost, but an incident like this drew him in all the same.

"You wouldn't happen to know any healing techniques, would you?" Guang's wisened eyes strayed across the cultivators and myself as he set a bloodied arrowhead into a wooden bowl.

"Wouldn't have called for you if we did," Yomi said. "I was usually better at taking lives than repairing them."

Yamato nodded. "I too," he admitted with some shame.

"I'm sure I don't need to specify my own past," I told him.

Guang grunted, focusing back on his work. "World would be in much better shape if the folks with qi focused more on helping each other than beating the snot out of each other."

"The Snake Flower's healers are indisposed," Yamato said gruffly.

"Not that they would have helped even if they were around," Guang remarked without looking up. Yamato ground his jaw tight.

"Does he have any chance of living?" I asked.

Asquith frowned, setting a small glass bottle aside. "Unlikely," the Ilgardian said, deciding to be blunt. "My reagents and the magnificent stitchwork of Master Guang can only do so much. The human body is not... designed to have many arrows inside of it. To say nothing for the blood loss."

The man groaned on the table. Asquith had numbed his pains with some concoction or other, but it was a shock that he was conscious at all. "My wife," he croaked.

"Don't talk," I told him. And whatever we had to say on the topic of his wife, it would hardly help him now.

He managed to look at me with his good eye. The other had been nicked at some point when he was attacked, now covered over by a bandage.

"B-bandits," he managed to wheeze. "Bandits on the road!"

Iudex Ryuga looked grave as he approached, his hands folded behind his back. He and I exchanged a glance. "I have received no reports of trouble on the roads. Bandits in this weather?"

I shrugged. "You'll find opportunists in any weather."

"Was on the road," the man groaned, his voice strained. Every syllable was a titanic effort on his part. "Ambush... so many of them... my wife..." He collapsed, breathing harshly, and Guang and Asquith did what they could for the man.

Not much, in the end. He died a short while after.

Asquith sadly shook his head as he washed his hands clean in a small basin Yomi had gotten for him. "Banditry is rife in every land, it seems," he mused sadly.

"Always has been," Guang said. He took a long pull from his pipe and sighed smoke into the ether. "Still... been a long time since we've had something so morbid happen in humble Tiode. Not as flashy as that business in Mount Gruai, but certainly a poor omen."

Yomi strode to their unfortunate guest, his body wrapped in a sheet. "We can bring him and his wife to the temple come morning, and they can handle cremation."

"And after that?" Yamato asked.

"Well... it'll be done," Yomi said, shrugging. "Our part, at any rate."

"Yet the threat of more attacks persists," said Ryuga.

"You could always ask the army to look into it. They do have that new barracks of theirs set up," I said. Admittedly they had been sent out to protect the village from further yokai invasions, but a threat was a threat.

"They might get involved," Ryuga conceded. "Depending on how far from Tiode they'd need to travel to get involved."

"I'll take care of it."

All eyes turned to Yamato, who bore a grim look on his scarred face.

"I'll track these bandits down and put an end to them before this problem gets worse."