by Ben Stevens
‘Well, Ennin, I was merciful in not having you severely punished for killing your last opponent with a foul strike. But still – you must now fight another opponent. And now you will discover just what this opponent is…’
With this final sentence, a wild snorting could be heard, coming from behind the great wooden door which led into the Great Hall. When it opened, a shocked gasp came from everyone watching. For a huge bull, its eyes glowing almost red with rage, was being dragged into the hall by three samurai pulling on the ropes wrapped around it. The bull snorted again, one hoof slamming against the wooden floor, lowering its head with the massive horns pointing directly forwards at my master…
‘Release it!’ cried the Demon King, as the samurai loosened off the ropes and then immediately ran for their very lives to one side of the Great Hall.
The bull started towards my master, eyes glowing red, the horns certain to tear out my master’s belly within the next couple of seconds…
It was then I heard that sound I’d heard just the other night. Then I’d wondered whether it had been part of some grotesque nightmare – surely nothing living in this world could be capable of producing such a noise...?
No, I’d then decided. Whatever it was, it had come from the same mountainside on which my master was staying. And now I knew the reason why.
Because it was my master himself who again produced this horrific sound that caused the face of everyone watching to freeze with fear, that shriek – or however you might try to describe the noise being made by my master – ringing in the ears.
But really, this sound was felt as much as it was heard; felt in the very bowels, so that I knew I was hardly the only man who feared he might lose control over his most basic of physical functions at any moment. Expose a young child to their very worst fear, and I doubt that even comes close to the sheer terror this noise being emitted by my master managed to stir within the mind of every person watching.
And clearly, this effect was not limited to humans. For the bull came to a halt just a few feet away from my master, its eyes no longer glowing red as it met the bulging stare of the completely bald man who’d just made such a hellish sound. The bull then lowered its head, clearly signifying its capitulation to the stronger adversary. My master walked forward, placing one hand on the beast’s heaving flank…
‘Get him!’ roared the Demon King – although his voice sounded like the puniest cry being emitted by some small bird, when contrasted with the inhuman roar just made by master.
‘Get him!’ repeated Jubei, staring frantically at the samurai around him.
Slowly, with obvious reluctance, they started forwards… And then shrank back as the bull faced them and snorted, my master stood beside it…
Then something curious occurred. For the former bodyguard to the Demon King named Takahira suddenly started forwards, although he approached to the rear of my master and the great horned animal. Still, sensing his advance, in a moment the bull whipped its body and head round to face the advancing samurai… But the creature was this time ‘soothed’ by my master, who spoke words I could not hear into its ear…
So it was that Takahira was then stood beside my master, announcing in a loud, firm voice –
‘The other samurai here know, of course, that I was until very recently head bodyguard to this daimyo who delights in his title the ‘Demon King’. But then I was taught a sorely-needed lesson by the man whom I am now stood beside – a man who is as good as he is tough; as brave as he is wise. A man who is everything contrary to that cruel, vicious person I have been forced to call ‘my lord’ for far too many years.’
I looked at the Demon King, his eyes blazing with rage. He opened his mouth as though to speak – and then closed it again. Everyone else, I realized, was watching and listening to Takahira with a captivated expression. Even those other samurai seemed absorbed in what was being said.
‘That is why,’ continued Takahira then, ‘I stand here beside Ennin-sensei, to use my swords, and my life, to defend him from whoever, whatever, is sent to destroy him now…’
A short, intense silence followed this declaration… And then another samurai started forwards. Takahira went to draw his long sword – but the samurai merely shook his head, and Takahira’s right hand momentarily relaxed as this samurai took his place next to the bull and the two other men.
Suddenly realizing that the attentions of the two samurai stood either side of me were riveted on what was taking place, I started forwards and joined my master’s side with the space of five seconds.
‘Master,’ I said.
‘Kukai,’ he returned.
That was all – and yet it was everything.
And now the very two samurai who had been guarding me walked over to join my master! And then more samurai, and more and more of the men and indeed the women who’d come here to watch the supposed fight between my master and the (previously) unknown opponent.
As the last samurai left the Demon King’s side, to join the massive crowd now swamping the Great Hall, assembled all around the bizarre nucleus of my bare-chested master and the tamed bull, Takahira spoke again –
‘I believe I speak for everyone, when I say that Ennin-sensei has proved himself to be in every way the winner over Jubei. And so it is only right that Ennin-sensei should now be acknowledged as being the rightful daimyo of this region.’
At this, Jubei at last gave a terrible roar of rage and – producing his long sword – rushed forwards towards the massive group…
What happened then took place so fast that I barely had time to realize what was occurring before it was all over. Somehow my master took Takahira’s sword, and moved like lightening out of the group towards the approaching, enraged former daimyo.
With a shower of sparks, the swords struck against each other once, twice – maybe three times. All was just a blur. But then one sword fell with a clatter to the ground – and a moment later the man whose vicious nature had resulted in him being known as the ‘Demon King’ was kneeling on the floor, the point of my master’s sword pressed against his neck.
‘Go on, Ennin – kill me,’ hissed Jubei, staring steadily up at my master. ‘That’s ultimately the reason why you came here in the first place – don’t think that I didn’t realize this right from the start. So, what are you waiting for?’
The point of my master’s sword then fell away from Jubei’s throat, my master checking the angry cry of surprise as he said wearily –
‘Your evil actions have already forced me to take one life. I will not now take another – however justified this taking would be. Instead, I renounce the title of daimyo recently given to me, naming instead the man I believe should be ruler of this region, and so leaving it to him to decide what should be done with you.’
With that my master looked behind him, straight at the Demon King’s former bodyguard.
‘So, lord Takahira,’ said my master then. ‘I turn this man over to you…’
6
My master’s injuries (received when he’d fought that horrific half-man, half-beast that the Demon King had summoned up from the castle dungeons) were already fast healing, by the time he received his payment from the three daimyo who’d first requested his help. With their words of gratitude and praise still ringing in our ears, we took a room in a luxurious inn, so that my master could fully rest and recover following his ordeal.
‘After I destroyed that creature which Jubei made me fight,’ said my master, as we enjoyed a leisurely dinner one evening, ‘I had a suspicion that my next opponent might not even be human at all. A suspicion enforced when Jubei said the word whoever with that strange cackle of laughter.’
Taking a sip of sake, my master continued, ‘Despite Jubei’s mocking ‘warning’, I thus went to the mountainside near the castle fully hoping that I would in fact meet a bear there. For only this would give me the chance to discover whether or not the ‘Cry of Ki’ (something which I had first been taught in China, during my secret
ive training there) might truly serve to protect me against a far more powerful adversary.
‘And so it did… For I sat and waited in a clearing, and after a while a large brown bear showed itself. It reared up, roaring at me, which was when I summoned up every ounce of ki within me – that mysterious life-force that exists in everyone and everything, from the smallest insect right to the very universe itself – and emitted it in a voice which I thought might split the sky. The bear immediately dropped down onto all four paws and simply walked away.’
‘I heard the cry, master, from my room in the castle,’ I declared, unable to repress a shudder. ‘I thought maybe it had come from some demon, or out of a nightmare.’
At that moment, a soft knock sounded on the sliding, beautifully decorated door of wood and paper. It opened a moment later, and a young, attractive woman employed at the inn entered, carrying more food and drink. This she set on the low table, dispensing the sake into two cups and giving my master an admiring glance before leaving.
For if my master had been relatively famous before his encounter with the Demon King, I now doubted whether there was one single person in Japan who was unaware of how he had defeated a bull (and ultimately the evil, powerful daimyo named Jubei) with this mysterious ‘Cry of Ki’ of his.
It had already become something like a legend, my master seemingly more than just human…
‘Well,’ said my master then, with a shrug, ‘the ‘Cry of Ki’ undoubtedly saved my life two times, in close succession. And now I have succeeded in avenging the memory of the abbot, and all the monks of the Yamabushi sect who were slain upon the order of Jubei… And a new, hopefully much wiser and also kinder daimyo controls the region formerly governed by the Demon King.’
‘Takahira couldn’t bring himself to execute his former master, apparently,’ I noted warily, while pouring out the rest of the sake. ‘So Jubei has merely been banished, never permitted to return to that region he once governed…’
‘I know, Kukai,’ returned my master softly, his gaze briefly distant. ‘Perhaps even now Jubei plots his revenge – or thinks of a way in which he might again see his friend and accomplice Sesshu, supposedly banished forever to some remote island… Yes, I have a strong feeling that I will, at some point in the future, come face-to-face with those two again…’
Then my master gave a short laugh, and shaking his head lost the far-away look to his eyes.
‘But enough of such gloomy predictions concerning the future, Kukai,’ he said. ‘Let us enjoy the present; the only thing in this life over which we have at least some semblance of control. The sake flask which the young lady brought in is already almost finished – kindly ring for another.’
I did so – and when the woman returned with the desired item, my master invited her to join us for a drink.
‘You seem so busy,’ explained my master. ‘Surely your employer won’t begrudge you just a short time to yourself…’
Of course, as this was the now-great Ennin-sensei – who was paying handsomely to stay at this inn, with generous tips for all the staff – the owner of the inn was certain to be delighted that my master had chosen to entertain one of the staff…
I waited a discreet time before announcing that I was tired, and that with my master’s permission I would get off to bed.
‘But of course, Kukai,’ returned my master, now sat in cozy proximity with the young woman. ‘But – before you go, here is that money I owe you.’
It took me a moment to understand his meaning. Then I said, ‘Thank you, master,’ and taking the small pouch full of coins bowed my farewell before sliding open the door and leaving the room.
I would not be spending this evening in the same room – or even inn (given that all the other rooms here were currently full, such was this inn’s reputation) – as my master. It was obvious that he had other company.
The pouch of coins had, of course, been given to me to find alternative lodgings – just for this one evening. There was also more than enough for me to have something else to eat and drink; and also to obtain some female company for myself, should I so desire.
My master was kind. But I didn’t want any more food or alcohol. Nor did I need a woman.
There was undoubtedly another inn nearby. I would find it presently.
But for now, I stopped outside the first temple I came across. For I’d remembered that it was some time since I had last prayed to the souls of my wife and infant daughter.
And so kneeling by one large stone statue, I began to do just that.
SERIES 2
The Sixth Buddha
All around the temple was fire, smoke, yelling and utter confusion. A sudden scream of pain sounded; but whether this came from a monk, one of the soldiers of the Southern Army or possibly a horse, there was no way of telling.
Twelve of the most junior monks stood assembled within the Hall of the Six Buddhas. Several of them still in their teens. They blinked with confusion, exhaustion – and fear. Fear at this encroaching death, the soldiers of the Southern Army certain to raze this temple that was loyal to the Northern side to the ground. In spite of their skills with various weaponry and at unarmed combat (all part of their training, along with the seemingly endless chanting and meditation sessions), the monks knew they would ultimately be defeated if only by sheer strength of numbers.
The older and thus more experienced martial monks were even now outside, trying to check the soldiers’ progress into the temple grounds. Seeking to hold them off at the outer walls with bows and arrows and long spears and swords.
But it was only a matter of time until…
‘Everyone at this temple must die – except for you twelve,’ declared the Abbot suddenly, stood in front of the assembled junior monks.
‘You all have young lungs, strong backs and fast feet,’ continued the Abbot, candles burning either side of the stout golden statues that were in a line behind the monks. Usually this hall was a place of peace and serenity, but now, with all the carnage taking place outside…
‘In pairs, you will take one of these statues and flee the temple, leaving by the trail that leads to the Yellow River. The Southern Army has not yet reached this point; they are being distracted by the monks fighting along the outer walls.’
‘Master…’ began one of the monks – the eldest and thus the most senior – but the Abbot shook his head and the monk said no more.
‘There is no time for discussion. Just listen. The victory of the Southern Army is now inevitable; soon most if not all of China will fall to their command. But it is essential that the statues of the Six Buddhas do not come into their possession. For they will then be destroyed – and this temple will truly perish.
‘Otherwise, so long as these blessed statues continue to survive wherever they are taken, the walls and buildings of this site might one day be built again – so that the statues can be returned.
‘Think of this now as being your life’s work. Working together in pairs, carrying each of these statues to a place where they can be hidden and safe – even if this place is abroad.’
The monks couldn’t help but look at one another in surprise. What did the Abbot mean by ‘abroad’?
Noticing their confusion, the Abbot continued mercilessly: ‘Forget about your family, your loved ones. I’m telling you now that never again will you see them. If to escape the Southern Army you have to board a boat somewhere along the coast and set sail for a foreign land, then so be it. I say again: think of this now as being your life’s work. Nothing else is important – nothing.’
The faces of the young monks composed and they nodded.
‘Turn, now, and in pairs take hold of one of the statues. The Southern Army will soon be inside the temple grounds and all will be lost – we have to act quickly.’
The young monks turned and did as instructed, forming pairs. They felt the awesome weight of their responsibility, and resolved themselves to the task ahead
The statues were about three-q
uarters as tall as a man, depicted in cross-legged meditation. They were heavy but not extraordinarily so – certainly not for these monks whose martial arts’ training made them famous for their sheer strength and awesome fighting ability. With two of them assigned to each statue, the statue could be repeatedly passed back-and-forth from one man to the other, allowing for faster flight along the banks of the Yellow River and ultimately to who knew where…
Carrying their precious burdens (the statues now concealed by rough brown sacks, which the Abbot quickly produced and pulled over each one), the monks and the temple leader left the Hall of the Six Buddhas by a little-known back entrance, stealing along a narrow pathway that ran between a number of brick-built buildings and towering statues of dragons and other, largely mythical creatures to a small wooden door set in a high wall.
Behind the Abbot and the twelve young monks were the flames, the screaming, yelling and shouting. Yet at this remote spot at the very rear of the temple grounds, the destruction briefly seemed to be taking place some distance away.
Then – ‘Go! Go!’ commanded the Abbot, pushing the monks and their sack-covered statues through the opened gate…
With the young monks gone, the Abbot again shut the gate and gave the smallest of smiles. He was prepared for death; it didn’t concern him. What was this life, if not for the tiniest link in an endless chain of existences?
With this thought in mind the Abbot moved quickly, to retrieve his sword from where he’d concealed it just outside the Hall of the Six Buddhas. And then to sell his life as dearly as was possible, for the sake of his beloved temple…
1
‘The sentence is one of death,’ declared the magistrate perfunctorily, almost through a yawn. ‘Surely, Ennin-sensei, the preposterous story given by the two monks – that is, of a statue of a demon guard with a sword coming to life, and dealing the murderous blow to the Chinese priest – is so ridiculous that it is by its very nature cast-iron evidence of their guilt.’