The Samurai and the Long-Nosed Devils

by Lensey Namioka

  The silence in the room had lasted for some time, and Zenta became aware that the others were looking expectantly at him. “Accusing one of the Mt. Hiei monks of murder is a very serious matter which could lead to a full-scale war,” he said. “We shall need more proof than just an orange-colored tuft. I want to visit Mt. Hiei and try to get some more clues.”

  Matsuzo drew a deep breath. “I have seen you do some reckless things, but this is really insane!”

  Chiyo opened her mouth to speak also, but Hambei forestalled her. “What Zenta suggests is reasonable. He is safe enough if the monks take him for an ordinary visitor. They don’t attack everyone indiscriminately. They are on good terms with many of the warlords, and they have friends among the townspeople here.”

  “But those monks have seen Zenta already!” said Matsuzo. “Don’t forget that we had a fight with them by the eel stand. They will recognize him as an enemy immediately.” “They will recognize you, and this is why you are not coming with me,” said Zenta calmly. “But I didn’t take an active part in the fight. All I did was tie the sleeves of the two men together. They couldn’t have seen who did it.”

  In spite of Matsuzo’s protests, Zenta was determined to go to Mt. Hiei at once. He knew that the information he wanted could be obtained in no other way.

  When Zenta returned to the foreigners’ residence and informed Pedro of his intention, the Portuguese was also apprehensive. “Father Luis narrowly escaped slaughter at the hands of a fanatic monk,” he warned. “From their looks, some of those monks kill first and apologize for their error afterwards.”

  “Then I shall have to delay them long enough to convince them of my peaceful intentions,” said Zenta.

  “I don’t think that your method of delaying them will look peaceful,” retorted Pedro. “Don’t expect any help from Nobunaga, either. He may control the capital city, but he can do nothing on Mt. Hiei. Those monks have an armed fortress up there.”

  “You sound as if I’m leading an expedition up the mountain to storm their fortress,” protested Zenta. “I’m only going to gather information. Don’t worry, I shall be back tomorrow morning at the latest. The parade of floats for the Gion Festival is tomorrow, and I don’t want to miss that.”

  Opposition to Zenta’s proposed visit came from still another source. As the gate of the Portuguese residence closed behind him, Zenta saw one of Lady Yuki’s attendants waiting for him in the street. “If you please, my lady would like to see you in her reception hall,” she said, bowing deeply.

  Astonished, Zenta followed her into Lord Fujikawa’s residence. When he had seen Lady Yuki last, she had looked furious. He thought that she would still hold him responsible for diverting suspicion away from the Portuguese towards a member of her household.

  Lady Yuki’s manner was conciliatory. Breaking into his murmured greeting she said, “This morning I was rude and my thoughts were confused by shock, but now I’m convinced that you were sincerely trying to find my father’s murderer.”

  Judging from the scene at Kiyomizu Temple, Zenta suspected that there had been little affection between father and daughter. Lady Yuki was not pretending a sorrow she did not feel, and he respected her for that. He bowed and waited for her to continue.

  Lady Yuki’s slender fingers pulled restlessly at one of the two locks of hair that framed her face. The rest of her hair, left uncut, was gathered into a thick, shiny black rope going all the way down her back. She raised her eyes. “I want you to look for Kotaro.”

  Zenta felt his jaw drop with surprise. Then he cleared his throat. “Kagemasa’s men are combing the city for him, and no doubt Nobunaga’s men are joining the hunt as well. Why do you think my help will be of any use?” “If they find him, he will resist arrest and they will kill him,” said Lady Yuki. “But if you find him, you can persuade him to come and see me first.”

  From the moment Zenta had first seen Lady Yuki, he had been trying to resist the attraction of this spoiled and beautiful girl. Now, to his fury, he found himself jealous on hearing her concern for Kotaro.

  She must have read the expression on his face. A gleam of amusement showed for a moment in her eyes, but it was quickly replaced by annoyance. “I’m not worried about Kotaro because I’m fond of him,” she snapped. “I want to see him because he may have been a witness to my father’s murder. He will tell me things that he is afraid to tell anyone else.”

  The fact that Kotaro might be a witness had occurred to Zenta as well. “Then you don’t think he murdered Lord Fujikawa?”

  “Of course not! I know Kotaro. If he had killed my father, he would make a dramatic confession to me and then commit hara-kiri in front of a large audience. He wouldn’t hide himself like this.”

  Despite himself, Zenta felt pleased at hearing the contempt for Kotaro in Lady Yuki’s voice. “I still don’t understand why you think I’ll be more successful than Kagemasa’s men in finding Kotaro,” he said.

  “Because you don’t have to look for Kotaro,” said Lady Yuki. “He will be coming to you. After you cut off his topknot, he swore to kill you. If you place yourself in public view, he will rush from his hiding place to attack you. Then you can disarm him and bring him to me.”

  She seemed to think that he could accomplish this easily. “It really sounds quite simple when you put it like that,” Zenta said, grinning.

  Lady Yuki smiled back, but there was an angry sparkle in her eyes. “The murderer is using Kotaro to divert attention from himself. He thinks he can manipulate us for his own convenience. I refuse to stand for this!” Zenta could sympathize with Lady Yuki because he had exactly the same feeling, that someone was making use of him. But his plans did not coincide with hers. “I’m sorry, Lady Yuki. What you propose would take far too long. I’m going to Mt. Hiei.”

  “Going to Mt. Hiei!” exclaimed Lady Yuki. “But that’s terribly dangerous!”

  Zenta laughed. “Standing on a street corner inviting an attack by Kotaro is dangerous, too.”

  “You know very well that Kotaro can’t really harm you. But the monks on Mt. Hiei are different. If they discover that you are working for the Portuguese, they will never let you leave the mountain alive!”

  She seemed genuinely concerned for his safety. Zenta tried to look at her with a cold, objective eye. She was spoiled and selfish. She wanted to find Kotaro not because she was worried about him, but because his absence was generating gossip that was damaging to her reputation. But she was very beautiful.

  He picked up his sword and stood up. “Lady Yuki, forgive me, but I must go,” he said, speaking with intentional roughness. At the door of the reception hall he paused. “A thought has just occurred to me. Perhaps Kotaro has not returned home because he is unable to do so.”

  Chapter 10

  “Gone to Mt. Hiei!” cried Nobunaga. “What does he expect to do there?”

  “Zenta felt that Chiyo’s clue of the bonten tuft was not sufficient to convince Kagemasa of the monk’s guilt,” replied Hambei defensively. “He has gone to Mt. Hiei to get more evidence.” “I’m displeased,” said Nobunaga. His displeasure was more frightening than another man’s shouting rage. “I wanted this ronin in my service, Hambei, and now you’ve let him throw his life away.”

  “I couldn’t very well order him not to go,” protested Hambei. “You must remember, my lord, that our most important task at the moment is to remove the threat of the warrior monks.”

  Before leaving the restaurant, Hambei had asked Matsuzo to escort Chiyo home. He hadn’t been able to accompany her himself because he had to return to his duties at Nobunaga’s residence immediately. After Chiyo’s revelations about the monk from Mt. Hiei, she looked nervous and fearful. She had good reason to be afraid, Matsuzo thought, remembering the attack on her by the monks two days ago. He was delighted to act as her protector.

  Walking along Miyako’s beautiful boulevards with the girl, Matsuzo found his pleasure mixed with a little guilt. Chiyo, after all, was betrothed to Hambei. The gui
lt was not enough to spoil his happiness, however. Well-fed, well-dressed and in the company of a beautiful girl, he was walking in the city of his dreams. His heart sang and his head was bursting with poetry. Eager to share his high spirits, he glanced back at Chiyo, who walked the customary two paces behind.

  The girl raised her head and her depression lifted momentarily in a brief smile. “Instead or going directly home, why don’t we go to the Yasaka Shrine and watch the festivities there? The procession of floats is not until tomorrow, but there will be many other exciting events.”

  It was a tempting proposal. “But won’t Lady Yuki be angry at your long absence?” asked Matsuzo, not wanting Chiyo to descend lower in her mistress’s favor than she had already.

  “Lady Yuki would be happy if she never saw me again,” said Chiyo. “In any case, there is nothing more for me to do there. Hambei will have to find a new position for me.”

  “I suppose the Portuguese won’t need my services today, either,” said Matsuzo. Hambei had told him that Father Luis had been invited by Nobunaga to attend a banquet at the warlord’s residence. He certainly wouldn’t need the protection of a bodyguard there. Besides, with the death of Lord Fujikawa, the greatest threat to the Portuguese had been removed.

  The Yasaka Shrine was a scene of bustling gaiety. With Chiyo as a guide, Matsuzo watched spellbound the sacred dancers, the fortune tellers, and the peddlers who hawked their wares. The afternoon passed quickly. The sight of people buying rice dumplings made Matsuzo realize that his huge meal at the restaurant with Hambei was fully digested. He purchased a skewer of sticky rice dumplings dripping with syrup. Turning around to share them with Chiyo, he found himself under the scrutiny of a hard-faced samurai. After a moment the man turned away.

  Matsuzo now looked carefully around the dense crowd and saw that there were a great many soldiers among the pleasure-seekers. “Chiyo, are these Kagemasa’s men searching for Kotaro?” he asked.

  Chiyo followed his glance. “No, I think they are Nobunaga’s men. Hambei said that some people in the city might use the Gion Festival as a cover to start a disturbance. Nobunaga has sent these men to see that no insurrection is being planned. He is a very careful man.”

  Matsuzo saw that Chiyo still looked depressed and troubled. “You don’t have to worry about the Mt. Hiei monks at any rate,” he said. “With so many of Nobunaga’s men around, you will be quite safe.”

  “The monks will not dare to attack me openly in the streets,” said Chiyo, “but they might try to reach me secretly. Only yesterday one of them came to Lord Fujikawa’s house disguised as a gardener.”

  Watching a toy seller arrange his wares, Matsuzo did not understand the full implication of Chiyo’s statement at first. But the word “gardener” touched off a memory. “You mean the false gardener was a Mt. Hiei monk in disguise?” he cried. In spite of the July heat, he felt himself growing cold. “That man was spying on us when Pedro, Zenta, and I went to inspect the gap in the fence. This means that there is someone on Mt. Hiei who will recognize Zenta as a bodyguard of the Portuguese!” Chiyo stared back. “It’s too late to stop Zenta,” she said slowly. “He must have arrived at the monastery already. What shall we do?” “I must go and warn him,” said Matsuzo.

  “There may still be a chance that he hasn’t been recognized.”

  “No!” said Chiyo. “Your face is even better known to the monks because of your fight at the eel stand. If you join Zenta, you will draw attention to him all the sooner. You must get help.”

  “I know!” cried Matsuzo. “We can call together some of Nobunaga’s men here and ask them to come with me.”

  “Nobunaga is hated on Mt. Hiei,” said Chiyo. “His men will not be allowed to get close to the monastery.” She thought for a moment. “The shogun is considered a neutral. Why don’t we go to Kagemasa? He might help us.” “Do you really think he can help?” asked Matsuzo, feeling dubious. He didn’t like Kagemasa’s foppish manners, nor did he think much of the man’s abilities. If all of the shogun’s supporters were like this, it was small wonder that he had become a figurehead. On just one point Matsuzo had found himself in agreement with Kagemasa. They had both believed that Kotaro was the murderer of Lord Fujikawa. And now it seemed that they were both wrong.

  “Kagemasa is our best hope,” said Chiyo. “He was favorably impressed with Zenta, I could tell. He would want to help.”

  Chiyo was insistent and Matsuzo, who could think of nothing else to do, agreed to her plan. Kagemasa’s residence was in the western part of Miyako, on the opposite side of the city from the Yasaka Shrine. As Matsuzo fought his way desperately through the dense crowd, he felt that the laughing, carefree faces of the people were mocking at him.

  Zenta found the climb itself not difficult. In traveling from the northern part of the country to the capital city, he had climbed mountains much steeper than Mt. Hiei. What he had not foreseen was the exhausting effect of the heat. After the thunderstorm, the air had cleared and lost its suffocating humidity, but the sun now blazed down with a searing intensity.

  Even the large basket hat which Zenta wore did not prevent the heat from beating down on his head. There was a constant high whine in his ears, and he didn’t know whether it was actually the buzz of insects or whether it was induced in his head by the heat.

  Viewed from below in Miyako, Mt. Hiei looked deceptively close. It loomed over the capital city both physically and spiritually. As the afternoon shadows lengthened, Zenta drove himself to walk faster. His kimono stuck wet on his shoulders and he had to pause more and more often to wipe the perspiration from his eyes. He also wiped his palms repeatedly so that they would not slip in case he had to reach for his sword. A constant state of preparedness was second nature to him.

  He met a number of woodcutters. They deferentially made way for him on the narrow mountain trail, and seemed to be neither alarmed nor curious. Zenta concluded that samurai visitors to Mt. Hiei were common enough. There was probably considerable traffic between the militant monks and warlords who opposed the rising power of Nobunaga. Zenta knew that as long as the Mt. Hiei monks took him for a messenger from one of these warlords, he was perfectly safe.

  The Hour of the Dog was just being struck on a huge bronze bell when Zenta finally arrived at the monastery. The deep booming reverberated among the trees and majestic temple buildings, whose interiors already looked cavernous in the evening light. Magnificent as some of the buildings were, they were dwarfed by the centuries-old cedar trees whose trunks rose up like pillars, taller and thicker than the man-made pillars of the temple buildings.

  The monastery was immense. With nearly three thousand temples on its grounds, it crowned the top of Mt. Hiei like a major city. A stranger could easily be lost for days in the grounds. Fortunately Maria had supplied the name of the temple and the abbot whom Zenta wished to see.

  When he asked a young monk for directions, the man looked intently at him, but consented to show the way. The monk was as muscular as any samurai that Zenta had ever seen, and he had the springy walk of a trained fighter. If it had not been for his cropped head, he could easily have been taken for a ronin.

  A group of monks were polishing their spears near the entrance of the temple sought by Zenta. Removing his hat, he announced his name to the doorkeeper and asked for the favor of an interview with the abbot. After the doorkeeper had left, Zenta bent down to untie his sandals. He did not see one of the monks glance up sharply at him.

  The abbot’s appearance was a surprise. After the husky monks he had seen so far, Zenta had expected to meet someone who looked like a warlord. Instead, the thin ascetic face of the abbot suggested a contemplative spirit far removed from thoughts of war. Zenta suspected that the abbot came from a noble rather than a samurai family.

  Bowing deeply, Zenta was just about to raise his head and state his business when the sliding door of the abbot’s study opened with a violence which sent it rattling on its runners. “There he is!” shouted a deep voice. “Ki
ll the spy before he harms our abbot!”

  Zenta looked up into the furious eyes of the monk whom he had last seen among the wreckage of the eel vendor’s stand. Even as he wondered how he had been identified, the monk, accompanied by three companions, rushed forward with spears in hand.

  “Stop, Ungen!” The voice of the abbot checked the monks instantly. “What is the meaning of this? Why are you accusing the visitor of being a spy?”

  “He is a henchman of the long-nosed devils!” cried the monk Ungen. “I saw him yesterday morning when I was pretending to work in Lord Fujikawa’s garden. He must have been sent to spy on us. Perhaps he is here to attempt an assassination. We must kill him at once!”

  Zenta was cursing himself for his oversight. He had so many things occupying his thoughts recently that the false gardener had simply slipped his mind. It was a pity that his visit to Mt. Hiei had begun on this note of distrust. He had to remove this distrust.

  Upon entering the room he had already taken out his long sword and placed it behind him, as demanded by propriety. Now, moving very slowly so that there was no misunderstanding of his intention, he took out his short sword from his sash and placed it beside the long one. Then he pushed both swords towards the monk Ungen. “Before you attack, please hear me first,” he said quietly.

  Intelligence did not appear to be one of Ungen’s strong points, but even he could not mistake this gesture of total surrender. A puzzled frown gathered over his thick brows. But at a sign from the abbot, he sat down heavily like a sulky child. His three companions did the same.

  The abbot turned to Zenta, and his eyes were not unkind. “You have obviously climbed our mountain in some urgency and you look tired. I shall give orders for tea to be prepared. In the meantime tell us your business.”