I had spent almost the entire time waiting for a promised invitation from Fa's Governor General. My funds dwindled. I had to leave before I became another of the numberless beggars.
I imagined a lot of them were still waiting on that promised invitation.
Where was I going?
I had no idea. I had packed away my few belongings, hidden a handful of gold coins in special pockets sewn into my long sleeves, and walked out the nearest gate.
I took the first path to the right, heading in a generally northern direction, and here I found myself on a lesser-trod road in the dusty morning light.
My two companions on the road interested me more than where I might end up at the day's end. The young man ahead of me was a dichotomy of extremes. He wore a shabby cloak and much-mended sandals. However, he walked like a noble with his head high. His long hair was carefully braided and tied with a small golden chain. He also had a noticeable limp and held tight to a cane.
"Ho, ahead! Sheep coming through!"
The girl had a strong voice. I stepped aside and took refuge beneath a giant old willow whose long, thin branches swayed slightly in the gentle morning breeze. The young gentleman paused, glanced my way, and then took quick shelter with me. I almost thought he feared the sheep.
A scar, still new enough to show a line of red, ran from his ear to his chin. I thought it would disappear in a few more weeks.
Sheep bumped, dodged, and scrambled along the path. A medium-sized dog I had not noticed until now did a credible job of keeping them in line and on the move. The girl -- tall and lanky -- came to a breathless stop by them.
"Sorry, sirs," she apologized with a wave toward the sheep. "Not sure but what get them moving so fast now."
"No trouble, shepherdess," I said, and our other companion nodded. "Good day to you."
She bowed, looked around for the sheep, and took off at a run when she found them scattered along the road again. I heard her muttered curse and saw the young man's eyebrow lift in surprise.
"They live a rougher life beyond the city walls."
I thought he was finally about to speak, but the sheep bleated in distress, and the young woman gave a cry of surprise that sounded much like them.
I jogged toward the shepherdess whom I thought might be hurt from the way she went to her knees. The young man moved with me despite his cane.
The sheep huddled together and fell silent. The breeze changed direction and blew harder. Dust struck my face, and I shielded my eyes. The dust and wind died down, but behind it came a burst of thunderclouds that had spread across the empty blue sky in a matter of heartbeats.
I saw movement on the road. Although my eyes still watered, I spotted a silver-haired woman walking with the largest dog I had ever seen, one of strange colors, blending orange and black in a swirl of movement.
She had a steady step for such an old woman and showed no fear of the monstrous storm growing over her head.
Not a huge dog.
Tiger.
Not an old woman.
Goddess.
I went to my knees, shocking the young noble.
"Feng Po Po," I whispered with a glance her way. She nodded. "Lady of the Winds."
The young noble sounded surprised and slowly went to his knees. I realized kneeling was painful with his injured leg.
None of us said anything. Even the goddess remained silent as she looked us over. I expected the sheep to start speaking words before any of the rest of us did.
"You are not what I expected," the Goddess said. Her voice sounded like a distant storm, filled with wind and thunder but not threatening. She was nature; if she struck down any, it would most likely be by the chance we all took with nature. "But I see that you will do well."
The shepherdess looked from the goddess to us and back again. "Does this mean I get to stop herding these damned sheep?" she asked.
"You will mostly deal with the damned humans but I trust you will find most of them more to your liking." Feng Po Po laughed. I feared she looked half insane. "What have you two to say?"
"I reserve all judgments until I hear what is going on," I said with a polite bow of my head.
She still seemed amused, so I survived.
Then she looked at the last of us.
"I am not of your people," he said, the words clear despite his accent. His face had a foreign countenance -- southern, I thought, but at least half Chinese. "I am from Paekche. I brought an ancient document, written in an archaic Chinese, that I was to give to the Emperor. His servants would not let me into his presence. They said I stole the manuscript. I protested, and we fought. There was one of me and ten of them. I lost. I dared not stay in the city."
"And now you go home," I said, and knew it was the wrong answer. "No. You cannot."
"I lost the gold, the manuscript, and my honor. Perhaps I can serve you, goddess, and reclaim at least some of the last."
"Hwan." She nodded to him. "Chang (to me) and Li. We have much work to do."
"What work?" I dared ask.
"Recovering the manuscript, of course, and before someone learns to read it and destroys the world."
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