They left the village, relying on the moonlight to guide them along a pathless way.
Demba and Irika walked side by side, while Emariya followed behind, protected by Kanga.
After half an hour, they had walked nearly four kilometers.
With the full moon only two days away, there were no clouds in sight.
They walked with the mountain to their left, using it to maintain their direction without confusion.
The moon was bright, but it was still difficult to follow the faint path. Their pace was inevitably slow.
“What kind of person is Samaykachi?” Demba asked, still facing forward.
“He’s a man who sees himself as the leader of the young people in the Ishikari region. He hates Elder Hawukase and always speaks ill of him,” Irika replied, keeping her eyes on the path.
“Why does he want to kill us?”
“He hates outsiders, even though he himself is Nivkh,” she spat.
“Nivkh?”
“That’s what the Gilyak people call themselves. They live in the northern part of Sakhalin. He’s said to be one of their children.”
“So his parents were castaways like my father. He hates outsiders even though he is one himself?”
Irika snapped a small branch off an oak tree and fiddled with it. “My mother said he was probably bullied as a child. Red hair is rare among their people. Normally, you would expect him to hate the Ainu, but for some reason, he decided that the presence of outsiders was the problem. He hates the Wajin (Japanese) too.”
“Is he an odd one?”
Irika tilted her head. “I don’t really know. He’s always been hostile to my mother and father. I’ve only met him once.”
“Why does he hate the Elder?”
“I only heard this from my mother, so I don’t know the details, but there was a time when a man named Shakushain from Menashkur in eastern Hokkaido rebelled against the Matsumae clan. It was when I was still a child.
Elder Hawukase didn’t cooperate with Shakushain, but Samaykachi, who was still in his teens at the time, was deeply enamored with Shakushain. He went around the villages in the river basin inciting the young people.”
“I’ve heard a little about that conflict. They say it was wise of Hawukase not to join the war.”
“I don’t know about that, but since then, Samaykachi has intensely disliked Hawukase.”
Demba looked down. “You said he hates him. Is it… to the point of wanting to kill him?”
Irika looked at Demba and gave a small nod. “Maybe. If that’s the case, doesn’t it start to make sense?”
They thought for a while.
“He doesn’t know why we’re trying to meet the Elder. If he kills Hawukase and us as well…”
Irika nodded. “It would look like we killed the Elder. And Samaykachi could claim he avenged him. It starts to make sense.”
“But it’s strange,” Emariya, who had approached them unnoticed, interjected. “Could Samaykachi really have connections with Matsumae merchants? I don’t think so.”
She put her hand on her chin. “There must be someone else who gathered the assassins. Samaykachi isn’t the only one.”
“I think so too. There’s also the bear-killing incident. The person who tried to trap us then might be different from Samaykachi,” Kanga added, leaning forward.
“The other person that Sutezo mentioned is probably the key,” Irika said, looking sideways.
In that instant, Demba felt something like a cold wind.
He couldn’t explain why, but he moved before he could speak. He pushed Irika’s head and shoulders down, making her fall to the ground with him.
“Kyaah!”
As Irika screamed, multiple objects whizzed through the air, just missing their heads. Something sharp and swift embedded into the grass.
Kanga quickly pushed Emariya down and lowered his stance.
Demba slowly lifted his head and scanned the surroundings. Sensing no other presences, he stood up and entered the grass where something had fallen.
“What happened?” Irika asked, getting up.
Demba emerged from the grass holding three short sticks, sharpened on one end with small feathers on the other.
“They look like arrows,” Irika said, peering at them.
Demba sniffed the tip of one arrow. His brows furrowed.
“It smells like a mix of plant roots and fish. Probably poisoned.”
Irika brought the tip to her nose and sniffed. She couldn’t discern anything and looked up at Demba with a puzzled expression. “I can’t tell. You have a keen nose.”
Kanga crouched where Irika had been standing and felt around the grass roots. He found a vine tied low to the ground. Following it, he traced it to a thick tree root, which led upward into the tree.
He tugged on the vine, causing a rustling noise from above. He looked up into the branches.
“I can’t see anything. Kanga, can you see something?” Emariya asked, looking up.
Kanga pulled the vine further, and a noise came from above. He peered through the leaves. “It’s tied to a tree branch. Stepping on the vine releases the string and shoots the arrows. I’ve seen a similar trap before.”
He looked at Demba, who nodded.
“I thought it was set by the Ainu for bears.”
“No,” Demba said. Irika, cautiously examining the arrow, looked at him.
“If it were for animals, the arrows would aim at the feet. But these arrows flew over our heads. They were aimed at our upper bodies. This trap is for humans.”
Emariya’s face stiffened. “Then… is this ‘Hikokyu’ that Sutezo mentioned?”
“Probably,” Demba said, discarding the poison arrows and picking up a stick. He turned to the others.
“It’s too dangerous to continue walking at night. We can’t see the traps. We should wait until morning.”
“You’re right. We shouldn’t rush,” Irika said, looking around. She spotted a hollow area in the thick foliage.
“Let’s rest over there,” she said, leading the way.
Something ran up Demba’s back. Without a word, he swiftly grabbed Irika by the collar and pulled her towards him.
“Kyaah!” she screamed as something fell from the rustling foliage above.
A pointed stake landed at Irika’s feet. Simultaneously, a dark object tied to a vine dropped and hung in front of them.
“Kyaaa!” Emariya screamed.
The object tied to the vine was a man’s severed head, eyes rolled back and tongue protruding, with congealed blood around the mouth.
It was Sutezo.