Chapter Eight
Almost a Smile
Even as the little Yoma crumpled to the ground, Clare finally managed to cut the head off of her opponent. The larger Yoma head clattered to the ground, and rolled into the flames that blocked the street.
"Nice work Clare. I thought it had you for a minute." Yura walked up to her and gave her a congratulatory pat on the shoulder.
"How did that Yoma know you?" She demanded. It had definitely known Yura, and she wanted to know why.
"Damned if I know. I've had a few encounters with other Yoma but they always ended up dead. I never let them kill anyone, and when I see them that is usually what they're trying to do. None have survived my wrath as yet."
Yura stopped for a moment. "There was a scent on him that I recognized, though I can't for the life of me tell you where I know it from."
Clare nodded. "Now, what about that Yoki I felt from you? That was beyond what a Yoma should be able to produce." As Clare asked, the people who had been on the roof came down to see the aftermath of the fight.
"We'll talk later. This isn't really a conversation to share with the public." The people were very excited. Clare was initially surprised by the enthusiastic response. That quickly faded as the crowd gathered around Yura and Raki, leaving her ostracized.
This was nothing new to her. People seemed to view her people like they had a plague.
The crowed uttered a non-stop string of congratulations towards Yura and Raki, especially Yura. "Nice job," "Score one for the little guy," "Who needs those witches?" and countless other phrases.
Yura pushed the people back gently. "Now, I appreciate the gratitude, but it wasn't much really." He smiled happily at the people. "Raki here dealt the final blow. But even so the real hero here is Clare." He gestured at Clare with his free hand, then accepted a cloth from a bystander to clean Raki's sword.
The cheers and shouts stopped rather abruptly. Yura walked up to Clare, and patted her on the back. "She killed six of the damn monsters, single handed. We just finished off a straggler, which had already lost an arm. If anyone deserves your appreciation, its her."
"The silver-eyed witch?" exclaimed a man from the crowd. "Why would we thank her? She charges an arm and a leg to kill those things. Why thank her for getting paid?"
Yura glared angrily at the man, who withdrew under the fierce gaze. "First off, she doesn't get paid very much at all. Her bosses take most of it."
Yura took a step forward, and the man took another step back. "Second, how much do you think it costs them to mine, process and forge the metal that makes their weaponry? Rare minerals cost a lot to mine."
"Finally, the warriors who fight Yoma risk their lives time and again to protect you ingrates. They aren't made from scratch. They are human women who volunteer for a painful, disfiguring operation to become what they are, and protect you. At very least, they deserve some respect." The audience looked at each other sheepishly.
One of the women in the crowd finally built up the courage to approach Clare. She bowed lightly. "He's right. Thank you for doing what you do." The woman prompted the group to approach her.
Though not very enthusiastic, they all thanked Clare graciously, and she returned the thanks calmly and politley. Finally, the crowd dispersed. Only one old, bearded man was left behind. He held a large bag that sagged with gold. This was the local lord, the man who made the request in the first place.
"Here is the payment for killing the Yoma. Once again, thank you."
Clare looked the man in the eye. Though unchanged to the untrained eye, anyone who spent any time at all with Clare would say that she seemed almost happy for once. "Like my companion said, I don't take the money. A man in black will come by to collect the payment."
Clare looked thoughtful for a moment. She walked over to Raki and pulled a small piece of paper and a stick of graphite from his pack. "The man will try and collect payment for seven Yoma, though the request was only for four."
She scribbled hastily on the paper. "Give him this," she said, handing it to the man. "It is my testimony that the other three Yoma arrived late and were not part of the request, and that one of the Yoma that was part of the request was not killed by me. He will charge you for only three Yoma. Use the savings to rebuild."
"R-really? Thank you ma'am. Can I do anything for you? A meal, or a room for the night?"
"No thank you. I have a place to lodge for the night, and I have no need for anything in particular." Clare began walking away. "I thank you for your generosity, and wish you and the other people of this city well. I hope I never have need to return here."
On the way back to the ranch, the trio came across an area of the street that was completely deserted. Most of the city dwellers were cleaning up the damage from the battle and burying their dead.
Yura sighed as he finally ripped the twisted Yoma hand off of his staff. "Well, that's done. It's a shame my coat went into the fire, though. Elizabeth must have worked so hard on it." Yura's face brightened. "I have an idea." He grabbed the knife from Raki, who was trying to get the Yoma blood out of the elaborate hilt.
Yura reached behind him and cut two even slits into his shirt, one on either side, in a single deft motion. Clare felt a small amount of Yura's Yoki leak from him, now clam and controlled, containing no hint of the fury she had felt before.
A pair of grey bat-like wings with a red inner membrane stretched from the slits in his shirt.
"You're a flying type," Clare noted. Yura folded the wings around himself, the part that was equivalent to an elbow hooked under his armpits and the hand-like part rested on his shoulders, and the membrane hung down around him.
Yura shrugged. "Yes, I am. The ability to fly is one of my favourite things about being what I am. Does it really matter though?"
The skin wriggled as if there were worms beneath it, and took the colour and texture of his old coat. It even appeared to have a pair of stitches on the back where the bandit had ripped it.
It was an impressive trick, but not overly surprising to Clare, given Yura's ability to disguise himself as a human without needing to steal one's skin.
"It doesn't really matter. But that intense Yoki I sensed from you before does. No Yoma has that kind of power."
"True. But I am a very old Yoma. Keeping my head down has been very beneficial to my health." Yura shrugged again. "Yoma get stronger as they get older, and you'll be hard pressed to find a Yoma older than I am, or one stronger.
"That aside, I had some good motivation. Humans and Yoma have a different definition of limits that your people. Our limits are merely the maximum force our bodies can exert. Under the right conditions, desperation can allow our bodies to surpass those limits. I've seen a tiny woman lift a massive ox cart to save her trapped child because she was so desperate."
"I see. So you normally don't have that type of power?"
"As I said, I am more powerful than any other Yoma I have ever encountered, but I almost never exhibit the level of power I did earlier. I'm not sure I could do it again if I tried."
Clare nodded, satisfied, and the three made their way back to the ranch.
Clare, Raki and Yura arrived at the ranch house just after sundown. They were met by the entire family. Elena ran up to Clare and hugged her tightly, tears of relief streaming down her face. "Thank you for saving my baby. Thank you, thank you thank you."
"It was nothing. I only did my job." Clare wasn't used to having to lie. She really had no part in saving Elizabeth. Apparently the child was under the impression that Clare had saved her and passed her to Yura, and told her parents that story.
Myles walked up to Clare as Elena detached. "Even so, Elizabeth owes you her life. You are always welcome here, my friend." He shook her hand firmly. "And Yura, Elizabeth says that you stopped the Yoma from coming back after her. She also owes you her life. Thank you Yura. We all owe you so much."
"You owe me nothing, my friend." Yura smiled brightly, and placed his hands on Myles's shoulders. "I love Elizabeth as if she were my own flesh and blood. I would no sooner let her die than I would let myself die."
There was a light rumble of thunder in the distance. This was good. A storm would help put out the fires in the city. A single drop of rain landed on Yura's hand. "Well, who's hungry? I have a mountain of food in my pack, and I'd like to get inside before we get soaked."
Despite the tragedy of the day, the mood at dinner was very light and lively. Everyone felt sad for the families who lost loved ones to the Yoma, but were also very happy that they were spared that grief.
Everyone with any skill in cooking, leaving only Clare without a job to do, helped in the meal. Thanks mostly to Yura and Raki, a feast was prepared that was fit for a king. Myles even dug out his best wine. The dining table was barley large enough to contain it all.
They talked and laughed heartily, except for Clare who still seemed resistant to conversation, and everyone was polite enough not to push her. That was just the interpretation of the family. In truth, she was very much content to listen and be immersed in the happiness around her.
Unlike before, no one felt discomforted by her presence. She was a welcome addition to the house, like a guardian angel in the children's eyes.
Over an hour later, everyone was full to bursting with beef, pork and a dozen varieties of garden produce, except for Clare who, as is her custom, only nibbled at a little bit of everything. There were enough leftovers to "fuel an army for a year" as Jeremy so elegantly put it.
The feasting and revelry had carried them well past midnight. Bellies full and hearts uplifted, everyone went to bed.
It was noon before most of the people in the house woke up. An overfull stomach and a late night will do that to people. By then, Clare and Raki were already awake and packing up to leave.
Yura was up next. He set his bag by the door with his walking stick, and prepared breakfast. A simple entree of eggs, buttered bread and bacon. It was ready when Myles and his family woke up.
After eating, Clare and Raki prepared to say goodbye. To their surprise, Yura was packing up too.
"So you're all leaving?" Myles asked. "I expected Master Yura at least to stay a few more days."
"Sorry old friend. I have some business in Malamar to attend to. It came to my attention a few weeks ago that the man I set to manage my fishery there has retired. It seems the man who took over let the position go to his head, and is in desperate need of either a demotion or a firing. I'll decide which when I get there."
Yura looked at the disappointed faces of the children. "But I mean to come back here just as soon as I'm done. Of all of the places I frequent, this one feels the most like home."
"I also have business in Malamar. Rubel contacted me overnight, and we have a request coming from that area." Clare was surprised, but not unhappy, that she would continue to travel with Yura. He was good company on a long trip, and strong enough to help her if she ever needed it.
Clare chided herself for thinking like that. Nice though he may be, he was still a Yoma. Thinking on it a little more, she realized that she no longer really looked at him as a Yoma at all. It was simply an old habit that kept that concept coming back in her mind from time to time.
"Well then, I think we'd best be going. I've got enough travel rations for the trip, and Malamar has plenty of rivers running into its bay, so water won't be an issue." Yura hoisted his pack, grabbed his walking stick and started out the door. Myles followed him.
Myles gazed off at the clouds, looking sad. "We're going to miss you Yura. You're practically one of the family."
"I know. I feel the same." Yura glanced sideways at Myles. Guessing the younger man's thoughts, he said "There's no need to worry about me. I don't plan on throwing myself in harm's way on a regular basis."
"I'm glad to hear it. We'd be devastated if anything happened to you."
"Like I said, no need to worry. I still plan on living for a very long time yet. Now, one more thing. It's about my share of the profits for this ranch."
Myles looked at Yura, confused. "Did I not give it to you? I could have sworn that I did."
"No, no. Nothing like that. Ever since I saw how well you were doing here, and how good you've been to the people working under you, I've stopped thinking of those payments as simply my due, but rather as incremental payments towards this land. As of today, you have paid me the total value of this entire place."
"So you're saying…"
"That as of right now, I am no longer the owner of this ranch. You are, my friend. But don't think that means you're free from my regular visits." Yura pulled out a small scroll from his bag and handed it to Myles. It was the deed to the ranch.
Myles just stared at the paper for a moment. "I-I don't know what to say…"
"Just keep taking good care of your family, and keep treating the employees well. We'll call it even." Yura smiled at Myles and hugged the man who he had come to love like a brother.
Meanwhile, inside the house, Elena and the family said goodbye to Clare. "Once more, thank you for what you've done for us. If you ever need anything, just let us know."
"I will. I hope my duty takes me through this town again, so long as I have no need to work here."
With that, everyone went outside. Yura received a group hug from the entire family, Raki shook hands, and with that, the troupe left for Malamar.
As they left the city behind them, Raki noticed something odd, but not unwelcome. Clare almost looked like she was smiling.