The Seed and the Boar

Winter was pruning time, when the life of the trees retreated deep into their trunks. The whole village would turn out for pruning soon; but if you let the whole village do the work, you got whole-village-quality results. That was good enough for the chestnuts and apples, but Cheito always went out a week early to tend to the apricot grove, which gave her family their prominence in the village.

She sat and mused, sharpening her billhook in a shallow cave, as she waited for the kettle to sing. They were prominent in the village. The village of where? The village where they were building a springhouse, but the bricks from Amucheiru were delayed until next year. The village that had taken in the wounded this summer, after a battle between a lineage and robbers. The village where Cheito, the daughter of Cheito, the grand-daughter of Cheito, tended her apricot groves, a week before they turned out to prune the trees.

The kettle sang, and she went to work. After pruning each tree, she cleaned the billhook in boiling water, lest disease spread from one tree to the next. She cleaned her cloth as well, as far as she could without scalding her hands. One tree gave her some trouble, with a dying branch that needed to go. Some barely needed pruning at all.

#

After a long day of work, she cut a small pine branch, cleaned and covered her billhook, and stashed it in the cave. There were many thieves in the Indoru, but they preyed on the rich; this billhook had been in her family for two hundred years, and had spent most of that time resting unattended on its stand.

Money was tight, with all they'd done for the wounded this summer. They'd sold their entire harvest, and were making do with imported oats and beans; they couldn't even afford holly tea. She brewed tea from the pine branch she'd cut, made oatmeal, and roasted a parsnip in the fire. She banked the fire, curled up under her blanket with her head on her pack, and went to sleep.

#

"Cheito," a voice called, quick and bright and musical, but regal and divine. "Cheito."

She rose, and emerged from the cave. There before her, enthroned in the luminous fog, was Sôritâro. The goddess of sparrows and cities; the goddess of civilization. Cheito bowed so deeply that she knelt on the ground.

"Cheito," Sôritâro said. "In the coming year, the chestnut harvest will fail."

"Now?" Cheito demanded, looking up, indignation sweeping reverence away. "Now, after we went into debt to care for the wounded?! This is how the power of reiten repays us?"

"Reiten grows weak," the goddess said. "Reality unravels around us. Two among us have begun a final attempt to preserve the world."

Still kneeling, Cheito shuddered. "What can I do, Lady?"

"Even I can do little," Sôritâro said. "Work diligently, live honestly, and pray that the world will survive.

"But I have brought your people a gift. When you awaken, look for a green sprout among your trees. Pull it up with your left hand and you will find a seed. Take the seed, plant it in your village square, and the trees of your village will yield fruit and nuts in season.

"It must be planted before the coming sunset. Otherwise, its power will not be enough! Do you understand?"

"I do, Lady."

"Then go."

#

She woke early the next morning, fresh and well rested. She recovered her pot and kettle, put her fire back into its carrier, hurried out into the clearing, and found the sprout. It came up readily in her left hand, and an enormous brown seed came up with it. It looked like a child's drawing of a seed; Cheito smiled in spite of herself, and put it in a pocket of her trousers.

She hurried home by the most direct route... until she smelled a certain reek. Not now, of all times! She scrambled up the nearest tree, as a wild boar emerged onto the path.

It was winter, and she had climbed a chestnut. There was nothing to mask her scent; she could only wait for the boar to lose interest.

It didn't. For more than an hour of this short winter day, it sat at the base of the tree, waiting for her.

She remembered how the village had gone on a boar hunt this fall, and was smoking the flesh to sell in town. With money so tight, they had only made the offering for a single boar, but had sworn by the gods to make the rest as soon as they could afford it. She began to wonder if this was a natural boar at all.

In answer to her thoughts, the boar looked her in the eye. Boars were too near-sighted for that. Then... it somehow smirked. Boars couldn't smirk at all.

She waited.

It wasn't the very best decision to sit in a tree antagonizing Châratayui, the Lord of Boars, the only god to have taken on the squid devil himself in single combat and wounded him, but it was the only choice she had. She got out her drop spindle, and spun wool to pass the time. Around noon, she ate what food she had -- some barley rusks, and the rest of last night's parsnip -- and tossed a bit down to the boar. He grunted his thanks, and resumed his vigil.

She waited.

The boar was absolutely not moving, but it was winter. This wouldn't be a long day.

"Your Majesty," she called down to the boar. He sat on his haunches to listen.

"Your Majesty. This summer, there was a fight between outlaws and a lineage. We did our duty, and took in the wounded until they were well enough to walk. We're deeply in debt. That's why we killed your people."

The boar rose and paced.

"Your Majesty." Her tone was getting strident now. "I'm late! You know exactly what's going to happen next year! If I don't plant this seed by sunset, we'll have to go to the cities to find work. If the village doesn't exist anymore, who will repay you for your people's deaths?"

The boar remained impassive.

"Your Majesty, if you walk away right now, we'll add you and Sôritâro to the village shrine. If you don't, we'll only add Sôritâro."

The boar settled down on his haunches.

Cheito waited as long as she dared.

"Your Majesty," she said at last, "if you want to stop me, you'll have to do it by force. I'm coming down, I'm going home, and I'm going to plant this seed."

She climbed down the tree. The boar rose on all fours, snorted... and did nothing.

Resolutely, hiding her fear, looking the animal in the eye, Cheito walked forward. She walked straight towards the boar, daring him to act. And as she approached... he flinched. He bowed to her, and stepped aside.