by Ronan Frost
Chapter Nineteen
A hubbub of shouts grows steadily as I approach the temple grounds and my pulse and pace quickens, despite my fatigue. The sound of the conch shell seems to draw me with a power greater than my own rationality. As I near the temple, the sound is soon joined by the tolling of the great bell echoing over hills, each languid peel washing between my ears, driving out all other thought. I break free of the forest and into the clearing, where I stand watching as crowds move in swarms like schools of fish. I manage to stop one young boy as he is running on some errand.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
For answer, the boy simply points to the horizon. I look, and now that I am clear of the trees I can see clearly into the pale blue sky a line of smoke rising in the distance. I turn back to the boy, only to find he has taken the opportunity to slip free and dart off between the buildings.
I enter my small hut on the periphery of the temple grounds, pausing at the door, momentarily startled. A man is sitting cross-legged upon the floor, his head bowed. At my entrance he looks up.
“Hello, Tonbo.”
“What are you doing here?”
I cannot keep the sharp edge from my voice, but as I enter and my eyes adjust, I see a blood-stained wrap about Yobutomo’s forehead.
“You’re hurt!”
Yobutomo raises a quick hand to his wound, as if he had forgotten about it and surprised to find it bandaged.
“It is nothing.”
“What’s going on?”
“Anegawa,” he says simply.
“A battle?”
“Too late, we arrived too late…”
“What happened?”
“We were too few, and could do little but hide in the forest, impotent to aid those who had fallen. We could only watch as the armies of Nobunaga walked through the stench of smoke and dust, decapitating and collecting thousands of heads… Countless men were killed, the rest of the Asai army shattered upon the mountains…”
The weariness in my legs from the day’s run vanished.
“If you are trying to make me feel guilty, it won’t work. I have not forgotten what you have asked of me, and my answer is still the same.”
Yobutomo gives a tired shake of his head. “My boy, my boy… That is not why I am here.”
“Some other debt, then? Another few weeks, and my sixth year will be complete.”
Yobutomo hangs his head. “Nobunaga conquers all in his path. He is brilliant, and ruthless. He has assassinated his own brother and uncle when they opposed him.”
“Why are you here? You know I can’t leave. What do you want from me?”
“I…” Yobutomo wipes a hand over his face. “If only you could have seen what I saw today. If only you had seen…”
This gives me pause, and I feel the temporary strength my irritation had lent me leave my legs and I sway, my hand grabbing at the doorframe for support. Yobutomo hangs his head again, and I sense he has more to say, but before he can speak again I turn from the hut and make for the library to take up my studies. I devote myself entirely to the scrolls for the hours that follow so that no other thoughts are given freedom in my mind, and when I return to my bed later that evening, Yobutomo is gone.