Chapter 5 - 1-5
Tenge Wolf left his younger brother in the care of Aunt Mor, and from there, he welcomed spring and turned twelve years old.
He would not return to his father.
"Is it really alright if you don't go back?"
Aunt Mor asked this frequently, but,
"I will stay here until Father comes to fetch me,"
he would stubbornly refuse.
Tenge thought that Father should come fetch him. He felt a certain murkiness toward his father. Besides, he wanted to be near Geraha. The massive infant was treated with more wariness than welcome. Tenge worried whether the women would take proper care of him.
Astai often came to play, riding his horse at full gallop.
Every time he arrived, Tenge was exasperated.
"Are you still here?"
"Yeah, I'm here."
"The Chieftain is angry. Go home once."
"No, I'm still here."
When Astai looked at Geraha, he was exasperated again.
"This kid is getting bigger by the day, isn't he?"
Whenever they met, the two would head out on long rides. The adults were tolerant of the boys' long-distance excursions. The Kosa people were more than just skilled in horsemanship; it was more that they had to make the horse a part of their own bodies for it to even count. Both had been riding since they were three years old, and now they could master large plains horses.
Kosa horses were large and beautiful.
Their necks were elegant and their legs slender. And yet, a Kosa horse could gallop fifty ri in a single day and potentially kill its rider. They were resistant to both heat and dryness. Even Tenge and Astai would be exhausted if they rode for ten ri with their thighs gripping the horse's torso.
Without a word to each other, they would dismount and begin preparations for camp. Fire was a necessity on the plains at night. Wolves would not come to a place that smelled of smoke. The boys would lie down and look up at the night sky. Both the sky and the earth were magnificent. Two sweat-soaked bodies lay rolling in the featureless grasslands. That alone was enough to satisfy them.
As for food, if they were lucky enough to take down a wild rabbit, they would eat, but mostly they ate nothing. For two or three days at a time, the two would go on adventures while mostly fasting.
One day, Astai made a suggestion.
"Tenge, let's go see a town."
"Alright."
This time, carrying curd and dried meat, the two galloped across the fields.
It took about ten days to reach the town.
It was a small town called Shadda, and it had no city walls. It was a merchant town. It was a town meant to provide lodging, food, and water to travelers peddling goods from west to east and east to west. The inhabitants were Southerners. Tenge did not have much knowledge regarding them.
Southerners had dark skin, talked a lot, and were very clever. And they lied.
That was about all he knew. Astai knew much more.
"All Southerners love money."
"Money, huh..." It didn't quite click for Tenge.
"Southerners look down on those who don't have money. They are willing to go as far as borrowing from others just to spend money."
"That's strange."
Tenge was penniless. When he mentioned that,
"It's fine," Astai laughed, pulling a small pouch from his bosom. The contents were gold dust.
That said, neither of them really knew what they should spend the gold on.
They entered the town blocks while mounted and rode around looking at things. All the houses were made of mud and stone. There were sheep. There were goats. Camels from the desert and horses from the grasslands passed each other in this town. There were dogs and cats too. And there was a crowding of human black heads.
It seemed they were engaged in commerce. Women with pots on their heads sold things as if they were singing, and men with cloths wrapped around their heads attracted passersby with bitter, gruff voices. Tenge liked the town. It was lively, above all else.
Judging from what they wore, Southerners were flashy. Even the outdoor tents competed in beauty, and the patterns of the cloths spread out to display goods were quite elaborate. The goods themselves used eccentric color schemes to attract the eye. Furthermore, ironware was abundant. He was surprised that swords and spears were for sale, but even more so, he learned for the first time that iron objects existed in the form of pots, pitchers, jars, plates, and cups. As for food, fruit was rare. Fruits of colors and shapes that made one want to doubt whether they were natural or artificial were piled up nonchalantly.
While gazing at the outdoor goods, they arrived at the edge of the town. There was a river. It was the Amta River. Coming this far downstream, the great Amta River was vast and flowing, like a lake. In various places along the banks, riverbank protection work had been done with stone walls. In the gaps of those walls, young girls were bathing, baring their breasts to the water.
Tenge and Astai let out cries of joy and galloped down to the bank on their horses, plunging into the river with a great splash. High screams echoed. The wet, naked bodies of the women climbed out of the river one after another. It was an amusing sight, but Tenge knew it wasn't that they had run away because they were startled by the intrusion of the boys. They—or rather, all Southerners—were afraid of the Kosa. The Kosa were the strongest in the world at war. This town of Shadda also paid tribute to the Kosa to ensure its safety. However, those Kosa were not from the Wolf clan to which Tenge belonged.
This entire area was the territory of the Ishma tribe.
Tenge and Astai stripped naked, swam in the river, and washed their horses.
While fooling around, night fell, and they grew tired.
"Let's buy some fruit and eat."
Astai suggested it. Because they couldn't communicate, both had been hesitant, but they decided to head back to the town and try shopping anyway.
They were able to buy fruit without difficulty. A middle-aged man at an outdoor stall understood a little Kosa.
The man stuffed so much fruit into the leather bag Tenge handed him that it was more than they could eat.
"I'll take more gold dust. I'll give you wheat. I'll give you two bags."
"We don't want wheat. We don't want it."
Tenge and Astai protested desperately, but the Southern merchant would not listen. He tried to shoulder the large bag and place it on Tenge's horse.
Just as they were in trouble, a piercing scream was heard.
Tenge looked around. It was strange that the cluttered movement of the street did not stop, and people were walking as if not a single person had noticed the scream. Soon, he found an Eastern woman acting violently. A pair of Kosa who looked fifteen or sixteen years old were grabbing and manhandling a fair-skinned woman. It looked like they intended to kidnap her.
They were undoubtedly Ishma youths.
"You fools. Disgraces to the Kosa," Tenge was incensed. "Astai, ride in front of me to hide me. When I give the signal, draw their attention."
"Got it."
Tenge quickly tied the bag of fruit to his saddle and took up his bow.
Astai's horse began to run.
Tenge followed immediately on his horse. He released the reins and nocked an arrow. "Go for it!" he called out to Astai.
"Shameless Ishma! Taste the arrow of the Wolf clan!"
With that shout, Astai's heel kicked the horse's belly. The horse increased its speed, and Astai's back receded into the distance. The two Ishma youths, the terrified woman—three faces flashed before Tenge's eyes. An arrow crossed the drawn, taut bow and brought one of the youths into range. He closed in, aiming. The opponent turned his back to try and flee. Twang, the tension snapped in his hands. The Ishma youth clutched his neck and collapsed to the ground. It must have pierced through.
"Come for revenge. I am Tenge Wolf. I'll be waiting!"