The Smoke Dragon
Page 1
THE SMOKE DRAGON
Shane Jiraiya Cummings
Copyright © Shane Jiraiya Cummings 2011.
A print version of The Smoke Dragon appears as "Yamabushi Kaidan and the Smoke Dragon" in the anthology Fantastic Wonder Stories, ed. Russell B. Farr (Ticonderoga Publications, 2007, ISBN 9780958685689). This version was a finalist for the Aurealis Award (Young Adult Short Story) and the Ditmar Award (Best Novelette/Novella).
All characters in this book are fictitious.
No reference to any living person is intended.
* * *
To Kazuo Crando Saito, the inspiration for Yamabushi Kaidan.
* * *
Chapter 1
In a Japan that never was ...
Yamabushi Kaidan balanced on one leg atop the blossom tree.
His robes fluttered in the wind as he studied the columns of smoke rising from the village below. The ghost-white blossom tree that crested the summit of Mount Akiyama afforded him a view of the entire valley—leagues of patchwork fields ringed by mountains shrouded in mist.
"That troubles me." He pointed to the line of smoke retreating from Kyuusai village.
The sparrowhawk screeched his assent, flapping his wings for emphasis—a mottled brown blur contrasting against the snowy blossoms.
"Yes, Tsubasa. An excellent idea," said Kaidan.
Tsubasa launched himself from a bough, swirling blossoms in his wake. He circled high above the mountain, leaving Kaidan to ponder the smoke wafting from the valley.
Blossoms floated around the Yamabushi, undisturbed by the southerly gale cutting through the trees. His broad hat, peaked with black in tribute to the metal tokin caps of his brethren, sat unbothered on his head. The hat, like the blossoms, held a tranquillity at odds with the South Wind.
Kaidan dived from his flowery perch, landing on the thickest of the limbs below him, and then sprang to the earth. His landing, although feather-light, threw up another cloud of blossoms.
He laid his hand on the trunk, closing his eyes for a moment. "Thank you for your patience, old friend."
A fast, irregular beat pulsed through his palm.
"It seems we have a guest on the mountain." He inclined an ear toward the tree line, listening to the trees suffer the South Wind’s ire—and something more.
Gathering up his iron-banded bo staff, he jogged into the forest and began the descent. The trees blurred as he raced through their midst, winding down the secret paths, jangling his bead necklace as he went. His staff was heavy, slowing his pace. After three recitals of the Mikkyo Chi mantra—invoking the earth spirit—to counter the wind magic used while on the blossom tree, the staff regained its normal weight.
Liberated to full speed, Kaidan became an off-white haze as he dashed downhill through the trees.
Ragged breathing from somewhere on the lower slope halted his descent as he neared the base of the mountain. He paused to listen, keeping his own breathing controlled. With a few whispered words, he slid behind a thick cedar trunk, disappearing from the world.
A bedraggled young priest struggled up the slope, panting and spluttering as he drew into view. A brown vest and white leggings declared him to be a Shugendo acolyte—a domestic brother to the itinerant Yamabushi. Exhaustion slowed the acolyte-priest’s pace.
"Akio," Kaidan whispered, grabbing the acolyte by the scruff with a bark-covered hand as he passed.
Akio screamed, and flailed blindly at the tree-beast until he was released.
Kaidan stepped from the trunk and into the forest-broken light, transforming from bark to man.
"Akio, it’s me. Kaidan."
"Yamabushi Kaidan!" said Akio, his voice raw. "I didn’t—"
"Do not be troubled. I caught you unawares. It is my shame for bringing you embarrassment." Laughter touched his eyes, despite his solemn face. He bowed low to the flustered acolyte.
Akio dropped to his knees after regaining some composure. His face was sweaty and red like a beet, even before he tried speaking. "Yamabushi ... Kaidan. My ... apologies." He gulped at the air, struggling for his next words. "Kyuusai ... has been attacked."
"I know. I was on my way to help." Kaidan extended a hand, pulling Akio to his feet. "Have some of this broth so we can be on our way. Hurry."
Kaidan withdrew a small phial from the depths of his vest and handed it to the Shugenja. "Quaff it all."
Akio studied the green ooze before unstoppering the phial. He closed his eyes, screwing up his face against the mossy brimstone smell, and downed it in one sharp motion.
"Good?" asked Kaidan, as Akio handed him the emptied phial.
Akio nodded, but a coughing spasm belied his answer.
"Let us go. Hold my pace and tell me what happened." Kaidan tugged at Akio’s sleeve and then jogged down the slope.
Kaidan watched the novice priest while he weaved between trees, muttering a chant in tune with his clanking beads and shell horn. Their momentum forced them to a run, but Akio gained strength rather than flagged.
"It was a dragon, Yamabushi," Akio told him between puffs. "A huge creature coiled in smoke. Fire sprouted from its jaws. We tried defending ourselves, but ..."
"Worry not, Akio. You acted wisely in seeking me out."
If Akio nodded, he missed it. Trees whirred by.
"Elder Keiji despatched a runner to the Shinichi clan," Akio said.
"Wanted to make life harder for us by looking to Kyuusai's enemies for protection, did he? I would not be surprised if Keiji didn’t want to run to Daimyo Shinichi himself when that dragon appeared."
Akio laughed but quickly stifled it.
"So we have about a day before the village is crawling with Shinichi samurai?" The question was left hanging in the air, lost to the greedy South Wind as they continued the downward rush.
"Tell me more of this dragon of smoke and flame," instructed Kaidan. The valley floor loomed ahead.
"It was huge, Yamabushi. Larger than the temple at Ise."
"Who did it strike against?"
"The attack was ill-coordinated. The beast burned down some of the outlying houses, scorched the well, and levelled the shrine. The bandits inflicted the worst on us. They ransacked many of the houses and the shrine, before the dragon burnt it down."
"Keiji’s house was attacked?"
"Yes."
Kaidan’s eyes were alive with thought as he scrutinised the young Shugenja. "How many? Where did they come from?"
"Maybe three score. It was hard to tell, we could see nothing for the smoke. It choked our eyes, mouths, and hearts. They came from nowhere."
"Did they bear any markings? Clan insignia?"
"No, Yamabushi. They wore only black."
"Which direction did the dragon strike for when it abandoned Kyuusai?"
"I can’t be certain, Yamabushi, as I had fled to seek you by then. I looked back as I reached this tree line and saw one smoke-drift off to the west."
"Very well, then. You have confirmed much of what I've guessed from the top of the mountain. Before I set out to find this dragon, we must tend to the wounded."
Akio nodded.
"It's best if the Shinichi clan have little to do with this affair. They've long sought a foothold in the Autumn Valley. I have a way of keeping an eye on the daimyo’s men." Kaidan glanced to the sky and chanted an inaudible sutra, weaving complex knots in the air with his free hand.
Kyuusai emerged into view as they trudged through knee-high grass, ferns, and sabre-pronged shrubs. The tall cedar forest gave way to the foothills. From the lower slope, it was clear the village struggled for life against charred ruins and smoking scars.
"Akio?"
"Yes, Yamabushi?"
"Did they find the scroll I entrusted to the shr
ine?"
"No." Akio withdrew an ivory cylinder from the folds of his vest. Lines of writing—sutras and incantations—were etched onto its surface. "I carried it to freedom. But I neglected to remove the decoy scroll."
A smile rose from beneath Kaidan’s broad hat, matched by the acolyte’s.
"They will be back." Kaidan adopted an old man’s gait, leaning on his staff as they descended into battle-scarred Kyuusai.
Tsubasa swooped across the village, through wafting smoke, before winging his way from the valley.
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