Book 2: Chapter 6: The Road South (1)

Book 2: Chapter 6: The Road South (1)

Despite his intention to simply sleep until he woke up, it was barely mid-morning when angry shouting brought him to full consciousness. For a moment, he thought that someone had discovered his location. Then, he realized that the shouting was coming from the direction of the road. It wasn’t even really that close. He’d just unwittingly slipped back into the state of heightened awareness he’d all but lived in during those terrible days he spent forming his killing intent on the mountain. He rolled over and pulled a bit of blanket over his face. There was a chance he could still get a couple more hours of sleep. Frequently, it was simple heat that woke him when sleeping in a tent. Yet, while it was likely getting warm out on the road, he could tell that it was still fairly cool beneath the shadow of the forest canopy. He heard more shouting from the road and resisted the urge to go investigate.

“It’s not your business,” he muttered to himself. “Let those people sort out their own problems.”

Then, he started to imagine bandits killing off innocent caravan drivers and guards or kidnapping people. He countered his imagined scenarios by saying that people hired guards exactly because of the possibility of bandits. No one was paying him to intervene. Then, he imagined Grandmother Lu traveling down this exact road. While he knew she could take care of herself, it would only take one bandit with a crossbow getting lucky to kill her. Sen snarled at his own imagination for playing dirty. Then, grumbling to himself, he pushed the blankets off and slipped out of the tent. He felt a bit more moisture in the air than he expected and sighed. It was probably going to rain later that day. The rain itself wasn’t a problem. Sen was pretty certain that no amount of rain could actually make him sick anymore. He just didn’t enjoy getting soaked while walking.

Sen made sure that he hid before exiting the relative safety of his obscuring formation. His woodcraft was good enough that it wasn’t a real challenge to get close to the road without being seen. While he half-expected to see bandits or some other kind of life-or-death situation, what he found was far more mundane. While he wouldn’t classify the small collection of wagons as a caravan, they were clearly carrying goods from somewhere to somewhere else. One of the wagons had a damaged wheel. Two men were standing by it, arguing with each other about what to do next. The younger of the pair was arguing that they should all stay until they had a chance to repair the wheel. The older man, a tall, gaunt figure who gave off an air of authority, was shaking his head.

“We can’t be late again, Bigan,” said the older man. “If we show up with most of the goods, they’ll likely accept the story that we had to leave a wagon behind to do repairs. If we all show up late, we could lose this contract. We can’t afford that.”

“If you leave me here, Uncle, you know I’ll get attacked on the road.”

“Then maybe you should have gotten that wheel fixed the way I told you to,” snapped the older man.

“I was just trying to save money,” said Bigan, his face going red.

“No, you were trying to keep the difference so you can marry that girl sooner. How well is that working out now? Maybe next time, if you survive, you’ll do as you’re told.”

The older man stormed away while the younger man spluttered ineffectual protests. Sen watched with a kind of stunned curiosity. He wondered if the others would really abandon the young man to his fate. They did. With barely a glance at the young man, the older man ordered the rest of the wagon to go around. Bigan stared forlornly after the other wagons as they slowly rolled away down the road. Sen considered what he had just witnessed. He did feel a little sympathy for the young man, but it also sounded like this was a disaster of his own making. It most certainly wasn’t Sen’s problem. Shrugging to himself, Sen returned to his tent and managed to drop off for a few more hours of sleep.

“Steal,” repeated Sen.

He looked from the kid over to the ox that was tied to a tree, then back at the kid. When the kid just kept giving him an angry look, Sen repeated the motion, more slowly and deliberately. Bigan finally seemed to realize what an absurd comment it had been. If Sen had been stealing the animal, he probably wouldn’t have tied it up to graze. An embarrassed look crossed the kid’s face as Sen wandered over and took a closer look at the wheel. He could see where two of the spokes had broken, but replacing those probably should have been something the kid could accomplish.

Then, Sen saw the real problem. Part of the outer wheel had been damaged, which bent the iron tread inward. Without some basic woodworking and blacksmithing tools or, Sen sighed, cultivator strength, repairing the wheel would be all but impossible. Sen again gave serious consideration to just walking away. He’d only intended to get the ox something to eat. He’d accomplished that goal. He had not signed on to help this kid fix his mistakes. Considering what he’d seen so far, though, he expected that leaving the kid to his own devices was tantamount to a death sentence.

“Do you at least have some tools?” Sen asked, almost against his will.

“A few,” the kid admitted. “I have a small hammer and an axe.”

It wasn’t much, but it was something.

“Camping gear?” Sen asked.

If the kid had camping gear, at least there was a chance he’d survive. Bigan shook his head.

“It’s all with Uncle Chao.”

Sen considered the wheel again. He wasn’t much of a craftsman, but it wasn’t much of a wheel. If he actually tried, he suspected he could get the kid moving again in an hour or two. If Bigan was right, though, there would be bandits on the road ahead. Would helping him get the wagon moving be a genuine kindness if it just meant sending the kid straight into danger? The more Sen thought about it, the more work it sounded like a good deed would become. He’d end up having to escort the kid at least far enough that he could get a proper repair done on the wheel. Even then, unless they made very good time, it seemed unlikely that they would catch up with the other wagons. With an internal groan, Sen made his decision.

“Well, get your axe and hammer. This wheel won’t fix itself."