13 The hooded woman in Asia

  Joseph listened carefully but tried not to show too much interest. “Asia’s a big place,” he said.

  “South-East Asia,” she said while kissing his jawline.

  “Any land specific?”

  She moved her head back and looked at him. “You ask many questions, Joseph.”

  “I merely enjoy getting words out of your deliteful mouth.” He kissed her gently. After breaking the kiss, he didn’t part his look from her lips, longing for her response.

  “Many have seen her around the borders of Persia,” she said, her lips swollen by his smooches.

  “Persia?” Joseph asked, his hands caressing her back.

  “Yes.”

  “That’s too far away.”

  “Why do you care?

  “I don’t,” He lied, hiding his intentions with a smile, and kissed her again, making it last much longer.

  The next morning, Joseph returned to London, not waiting one more day to attend the Duke’s wedding. It was unlike him to act spontaneously. After surviving death, everything he did was unlike him. He had sex with the future Duchess of Nowkey. That was the stupidest, most irresponsible thing Joseph could have ever done. He knew he could get caught, and the Duke could have his head for disgracing Gabriella, but Joseph didn’t mind the consequences.

  He used to have rules, strict ones. Living by them helped retain order. But there was no order any more. When he heard the information about the mysterious healer from Lady Vasquez, he couldn’t sleep at night. Now that he had an inkling about the hood and was certain that she was a real person and not a myth, who could be found somewhere, an uneasy notion ate him inside. It was intense curiosity, Joseph thought.

  But that wasn’t true.

  He tossed and turned in the bed and tried his best to label the feeling he had. It was anger. He was angry at a stranger he hadn’t even seen. Why? Because she shouldn't have intervened in his fate. Joseph was about to die. The pedlar should have left him to meet his inevitable end sooner. Joseph wanted to confront herabout it. If she was a woman with higher power, he had to know who she was. Was she a death angel as the orphan claimed? Or a witch? Maybe a shapeshifter like Mary said. Whatever she was, Joseph could find out. But she was in Asia, and that was impossible.

  Or was it?

  He knew her whereabouts, although not very clearly, the borders of Persia. He had to know more than that. The night after his love-making with the future duchess, he kept looking at a globe in his room to inspect how vast Persia was. He couldn’t have possibly found the Pedlar with the glimmering information.

  Joseph ensured that Mr. Lancaster would stay at Stargaze and attend the wedding so there would be no hard feelings. He knew it was rude of him to leave, especially to Gabriella since they had shared such a lovely time together, but he also knew they didn’t mind his absence since Joseph had turned odd.

  It took him almost two days to return to Mainwood. All he did during the trip was thinking and rethinking what he wanted to do. The darkness consumed Mainwood, and the rain started pouring down. Joseph stood by his window and watched his yard. He could see London to its southern side from there. Only a few weak lights were in sight.

  While drinking from his glass, it suddenly struck Joseph that he hated it there. He hated living there deeply. Mainwood made no sense to him. He thought returning from Stargaze to London would make him feel at least a little better, but it didn’t. It felt like no other place on the planet would make him feel good. He didn’t belong aanywhere.

  But how could he know? He hadn’t left England in his entire life. There must have been a corner in the vast world where he could finally belong to and find peace in. So, he made a drunken decision right there and then to leave. He was going to go to Asia. And no step further than that decision crossed his mind.

  The following morning, Joseph woke up, and even after getting sober, he still wanted to leave England. It was more of a need rather than a want. The decision was irrational and rushed, but it was the only thing Joseph wanted to do. He knew it would take more than four months to get there, and the Pedlar could be anywhere, considering she traveled the world to cure people. But he didn’t care. The sorrow and detachment were slowly consuming him.

  So, without telling anyone about his destination, he packed the necessary things for his journey and set foot on a trip. The only person Joseph informed about his destination was Mr. Lancaster. As his consultant, Thomas had to know everything. Of course, he wasn’t on board with Joseph’s decision. However, he didn’t complain since Joseph seemed determined.

  “Joseph,” Lancaster said as Joseph sat in the carriage to depart.

  Joseph held the door open. “Yes? Is something wrong?”

  “No. I only want to ensure you will be fine.”

  Joseph nodded. “Don’t worry. I will return in a year or so.”

  Lancaster nodded. A year sounded too long, but Asia was far away. “Goodbye, My Lord,” he said, closing the door as his heart weighed heavy.

  “Goodbye, Thomas,” Joseph said, leaning back and waiting for the rider to start.

  ***

  The journey to Asia was tiring. Joseph had never been anywhere outside of England. In Europe, everyone would treat him with respect. But in Asia, things were different especially since he decided to hide his true identity and live like a man from the middle class.

  He spent many days in the rain, snow, thunder, and storm. Some days, he crossed paths that could easily end his life, and some days, he sat in a carriage and did nothing but wait to reach a destination. It took more than five months to reach the western borders of Persia. While on the way, Joseph asked many people about the mysterious hooded woman called the Pedlar. Some claimed they knew her and gave him directions that were in vain. Very few people could describe her with the same features he knew.

  Ten months had passed since he started his journey from London. Joseph had spent five months asking strangers in Asia and searching day and night. He could barely feel the same motivation in himself to follow the leads and pursue a shadowy savior. Frustrated and disappointed, he decided to settle on a hill for the night. There were a few tents at a great distance from his. Some people lived in those tents, and some were only travelers who used those tents as shelter for the night.

  The view was spectacular. Mountains were vivid from a very long distance, something Joseph found remarkable. He appreciated nature, especially in forms he hadn’t seen much before. Joseph thought that everything was different there. The air, the way the clouds moved, the humidity, and the ground all felt dissimilar.

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  He had a cup of coffee while looking around the hill outside his tent. The refreshing fragrance of coffee beans filled Joseph’s nose as wind blew. A smile curved his lips. He had not yet found the pedlar, but he had reached a magnificent landscape, and it was fulfilling for him. Since he hadn’t packed any mirrors or razors to tidy himself, he looked quite different. His beard and mustache had grown, making him look older and somehow wilder than he was. Looks didn’t matter to him, nor did many other things.

  While standing on the hill, watching the mountains, he wondered if it was worth to pursue the angel of death with magical powers. Of course, he had been on the road for more than ten months just to come and find her. But the journey had been adventurous and healing. Seeing the beauty and difference in cultures and experiencing the hospitality of the Asians along with living in challenging circumstances on the road had changed Joseph’s perspective on life. So finding a stranger seemed not as important. Now he wished to enjoy the rest of his trip, discovering new places and exploring his own emotions about life.

  As he juggled all his thoughts, one group of people with a tent at a certain distance caught his attention. They were packing their belongings along with their tent and leaving, which was strange.

  “What’s happening?” Joseph asked a man who had been helping him on his journey for about a week. The man could barely speak English. He was a local.

  “They go. It’s time,” said the man with tanned skin and chestnut hair.

  “Time for what?”

  “Leave.”

  “To where?”

  “Place good. Water and food they need.”

  “Are they migrating?”

  The man thought for a few seconds. “Yes and no.”

  Joseph was confused. “What does that mean?”

  “Nature is their home.”

  “So they’re always moving around?”

  “With season change.”

  “But they have many animals.”

  “Together they go. Hot air they need.”

  “Hot air?”

  “Winter is cold. They die.”

  Joseph realized that winter was coming. That’s why he was shivering earlier. It was getting cold, not as in England, but better than the weather he had seen in the past few months in Asia.

  He brushed his long golden beard with his fingers and looked at the group with large livestock of animals following them as they parted from the hill. Joseph squinted a bit so he could see the other hills. Another group was leaving with their animals. Suddenly Joseph’s eyes extended wider, and the cup of coffee almost fell from his hand. The hooded woman could be traveling with such groups since they were always moving around.

  “I must go!” he said to the local man. “I must follow them! Come along now! We must hurry!”

  “I stay,” the man said. “Family waits. Must return.”

  Joseph wanted to protest. The man had only been helping him for a week, but Joseph had been used to him and his instructions. He knew the roads, the hills, the lakes, the shortcuts, how to navigate and track a lead. So he made Joseph’s trip easier. But Joseph couldn’t push him further because his family was waiting, and nothing was more important than family.

  Joseph extended his arm and waited for the man to shake his hand. He did, and Joseph smiled. “Thank you, my friend,” Joseph said.

  The man nodded. “Stay far, English,” he warned.

  Joseph smiled, finding his words odd. “Thank you for your service.”

  He grabbed his belongings and immediately started following the groups of locals leaving the hills. They weren’t in a rush. Their speed was super low so their domestic animals could follow along. Joseph was growing impatient. He kept his distance and wondered where the final destination was for the traveling groups.

  He knew he was getting closer to the Pedlar. She could be one of the people in the traveling groups. From what he gathered, the travelers moved around the world to find a place with better circumstances for living. They never stopped moving or settling in a particular space, peculiarly when the season changed. Wasn’t that what the hood was doing? She was traveling around the world too. She might as well have started to heal others without anyone knowing.

  Joseph followed the travelers for about a few days. He was confused and disappointed because there was no sign of the hooded woman, and he had lost the way back to the hills. No one knew English to help him return, so he was stuck with the travelers. He thought he had made a mistake by following them. If he had stayed at the hill, he could find the Pedlar there.

  There was a caravanserai which he decided to stay in before he started his journey again. The people were kind to him there. They welcomed strangers, fed their horses, and sheltered them for the night. The rooms had no beds. It was customary for people to sleep on the floor. They had some comfortable elastic mattresses folded in a corner on the floor. Joseph unfolded it on the beautiful red rug, and lay on it. He didn’t find it hard to adapt since he had spent months sleeping anywhere he could.

  It was night when he was trying to sleep in one of the rooms he had rented. The moonlight shone through the colorful glass, and it was the most unexpected and beautiful thing to watch at the caravanserai. He found it distracting yet very calming.

  All he could think about was the failed attempt at finding the Pedlar. He had to find an English-speaking man the following day and leave for the hills to continue his way from there again.

  When he opened his eyes, he found the room dark. It hadn’t been morning yet. Candles were burning, and a shadow of his belongings was on the wall. Crickets were lowly singing along with the wolves. A sudden neigh echoed in the caravanserai and broke through the silence. Joseph got on his feet and approached the windows. He couldn’t see anything from there.

  There wasn’t a guard at the front door, which was strange. Joseph opened the door, and another loud neigh welcomed him. He grabbed the torch by the entrance and walked inside. At least a dozen horses were there, and all looked restless. Joseph stepped further inside with his hands a little high to defend himself if someone attacked him. He carefully inspected each stall. There was nothing.

  Another whinny startled him, and he turned around to look at the horse. He approached the poor animal and looked around his stall. Everything seemed normal. An indistinct masculine voice raised, and Joseph realized a man had entered the stable. The man was talking in a language Joseph did not know. It seemed that he also had heard the whinny and wanted to check on his horse just as Joseph.

  The stranger approached an empty stall. A gasp left his mouth, and he slapped the top of his head with both hands. He started talking again, repeating the same word, and crying. Joseph didn’t understand. He approached him and looked at the empty stall. There was blood on the ground. He realized that the man’s horse had been hurt and stolen. The man kept hitting his head with his hands, sobbing a word that didn’t make sense to Joseph.

  “Let us look for him,” Joseph said, but his voice didn’t reach the man since he was crying loudly. “Would you please calm down?” Joseph tried again. “I will look for it. It cannot possibly be that far.” Joseph took the man’s arms and prevented him from harming himself again. The man looked at him with teary eyes and stopped talking. “I will look for it and let you know,” Joseph said and managed to calm the stranger even though he didn’t understand him.

  The sky had slightly brightened, but the torch was still needed. Joseph got on his horse while he held the torch and rode outside to find the thief. After a quarter of an hour, he reached a crossroad. There was no sign to indicate where each of the paths led to. He got off his horse and wondered where the thief might have gone.

  Something caught his eye. Joseph knelt and looked closer. It was a blood print. He got hopeful and stepped further into the road, which he had already walked on. Another blood print was on the ground. That was the right path. He returned to his horse and started riding faster. The sound of the hooves blended with the howls and cooes. The sky was less dark, and Joseph could see a little better.

  Long trees surrounded his path. Nothing was in his sight other than a vast green view of the woods. He pulled at the reins and stopped, his heart sinking at the sight of the dead stallion on the ground. The poor animal was wasted, and the thief could be close. He had survived a very long journey to search for the Pedlar. Dying in the middle of nowhere was madness. There was nothing to do now that the horse was dead. He had to return.

  A rustling sound made his head jerk to the right side. He found something moving swiftly a few steps away, and his heart pounded in his chest. While still on his horse, he followed whatever was hiding there. The swishing sound stopped, and he stopped with it, glancing at where he saw the movement last while holding the reins tighter. His horse was getting uneasy, feeling the presence of an animal or a human in the bushes. It kept switching in his legs. Joseph tried to calm him by touching him on his neck.

  He waited for the stallion to ease. The howls made his blood go cold. He clenched his teeth and held the torch tighter. The bushes had stopped swishing, but the silence only frightened Joseph more. Something was out there. He held his breath and stared.

  A dark figure jumped outside of the bushes, startling him. He gasped, and the torch fell from his hand on the ground and got blown out. The figure disappeared into the woods again. Joseph realized he didn’t need the torch anymore. He gave the reins a heavy shake, and the horse started striding swiftly. Whatever it was that had gotten out of the bushes, he had to see it or capture it. The figure kept disappearing in the darkness behind the trees. Joseph almost lost concentration as a branch slapped him in the face. He shook the reins again and rode faster. A black cloak revealed itself as light reflected on the shadowy figure. It was not an animal, but a human.

  The hair on the back of his neck stood.

  The hooded woman!

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