The Ennin Mysteries: Collected Series 1 – 5 (25 Stories) MEGAPACK

by Ben Stevens

  ‘He laughed – yes, laughed, before shouting at me to be on my way. I believe he only just restrained himself from delivering a hard kick to the backside of that poor, handless beggar who’d found himself stranded in a foreign land…

  ‘But from a hiding spot in the forest, I’d learnt Guo’s routine. I saw that he frequently rode his horse to Aoyama, leaving the village early in the morning when hardly anyone was around…

  ‘When hardly anyone was around… There – finally, finally, I had the chance of obtaining the revenge my wounded heart so called for…

  ‘One morning he entered into the stable… It was still almost dark… I stole in behind him; I wrapped my left hand around his mouth and whispered in his ear… I let him know just who I was, and that he was about to pay for what he’d done to my parents… And then, before he’d even time to cry out, I pulled my left hand away and with my right…’

  The monk’s voice died away; for the first time, his face seemed a little flushed.

  ‘Then you rode Gou’s horse to Aoyama, and were fortunate enough to find a ship departing for China the following morning… And your plans now?’ asked my master quietly.

  ‘If I am to be allowed to board that vessel, I will ultimately return to the Temple of the Red Dragon, and there try to resume my life as a monk. I expect that I will have to serve some sort of heavy punishment for having left without permission, of course. To this, I am resigned.’

  ‘Then be on your way,’ said my master simply.

  Slowly the monk stood, his eyes never leaving my master. Then, in a fluid, curiously snake-like movement, he ‘shrugged off’ the top half of his kimono.

  He brought up his left hand, scarred and heavily calloused through years of martial arts’ practice, and slowly formed a fist with it. I felt a flash of alarm, but my master did not move.

  Then the monk fully showed his right hand…

  It was at least half as big again as his left. It had no knuckles; these had long since fused together in a gleaming, burnished ridge of bone that pulled the skin taught. It was more calloused even than the left hand; there were no nails at all on the fingers, just layers of thick, horny skin. This was a brutal weapon, as vicious as a steel club, the owner fully trained in its use…

  The monk kept this monstrosity open, as he put his left fist against its palm and then gave a low bow. My master stood, and returned the action. Without another word, the monk put back on his kimono top and left the room.

  A few minutes’ silence, the air heavy with my master’s thoughts.

  Then –

  ‘Come, Kukai,’ said my master quietly. ‘I have excused a murderer; but I believe that the monk named Fan Dong had a legitimate reason for desiring his bloody revenge so earnestly. So about this matter, my lips are forever sealed.’

  ‘But the story of that statue, master…’ I returned. ‘Of it coming to life, and talking… Surely, you cannot…’

  My master turned to look at me, those eyes above the high cheekbones deep and mysterious.

  ‘Who’s to say, Kukai?’ he said. ‘Who’s to say…? When a man late at night, in solitude, begs favor from one of his gods from the very bottom of his heart – who’s to say that that god won’t sometimes deign to reply?’

  And with that, my master and I left the room.

  The Invisible Assassin

  1

  ‘This really is a most delicate matter, Ennin-sensei…’ began the young daimyo named Sakamoto, his voice hesitant. My master and I were sat facing him in a room situated deep inside his castle; Sakamoto had earlier sent several samurai to the inn where my master and I were staying, with the request that we return with them in order to see him.

  And yet my master had not seemed at all surprised by the sudden arrival of the samurai at the inn. Indeed (and very much to their evident surprise), he had greeted them by saying –

  ‘You have been sent here to get me by your lord Sakamoto. I will go with you, accompanied as always by my servant here…’

  Now, my master nodded at the young daimyo’s words. Sakamoto was very young – still just a youth, really. I should have put him at no more than twenty years of age. (As it later transpired, he was in fact aged nineteen.)

  ‘If I may, lord Sakamoto, I believe I know why you have summoned me here…’ returned my master, his tone equally as cautious.

  The young daimyo almost started; and then with his tense expression relaxing only slightly, gave a small nod.

  ‘You are the great Ennin-sensei, after all,’ he declared with the ghost of a smile. ‘There can be no secrets from you.’

  ‘I am Ennin, anyway,’ replied my master, his own expression serious. It was obvious to me that he wished to get to the heart of the matter (whatever this was) without further delay.

  ‘Your grandfather died in mysterious circumstances, just a year or so previously,’ said my master then, his voice now a little softer. ‘Then your father passed away, only about a month previously. And on both occasions…’

  My master paused, his expression suddenly appearing strangely embarrassed. It was not a look I could recall having ever seen on my master’s face before.

  ‘Yes, Ennin-sensei?’ prompted Sakamoto, his eyebrows raised as he stared directly at my master’s eyes. Somehow, he no longer seemed quite as innocent or youthful.

  ‘On both occasions, your grandfather and father – both respectively the daimyo of this region at the time of their deaths – were within their private lavatory, adjoined to the chamber that is expressly intended for the daimyo living within this castle, at the time of their death,’ declared my master, as I only just managed to keep the surprise from showing in my face.

  ‘Your grandfather was found when he failed to respond to repeated knocking at his door in the morning,’ continued my master. ‘The door that is always kept locked as a safeguard against any possible assassination attempt, two bodyguards furthermore on guard outside it. This room is situated near the top of the castle; with its two barred windows situated in the sheer stone walls which rise up from the castle moat; there is no way this room can be entered from outside, not even by a ninja…’

  ‘And my father?’ questioned the daimyo, continuing to look closely at my master. I realized now that I’d underestimated Sakamoto, in my first impression of him. Young he might have been, but there was clearly intelligence here, and an unusually strong will. I saw that he would make a good friend – but also a bad enemy…

  ‘Your father cried out for help,’ said my master. ‘The samurai guard finally succeeded in breaking down the door to your father’s chamber – and that took at least twenty precious seconds – and then they found your father…’

  ‘And you know what he managed to say, just before he died?’ asked Sakamoto, staring at my master with an almost incredulous expression. Really, the way my master was talking, it was almost as though he’d been present at the scene himself!

  ‘I do,’ nodded my master, his voice soft and respectful. ‘Your father, the previous lord Sakamoto, said –

  “I have been stabbed…’

  ‘Then, sadly, he died.’

  ‘But something was strange, was it not, Ennin-sensei?’ the young daimyo all but murmured, clearly memorized by what my master was saying.

  ‘Yes,’ nodded my master, returning Sakamoto’s look – ‘Something was very strange indeed. For here was your father, claiming with his dying breath that he had been stabbed – and yet there was not a single mark anywhere upon his body.’

  2

  This time, I could not keep the surprise from showing in my face. My master continued –

  ‘Yes, there was not a mark on your father’s body; neither had there been a mark found on your grandfather’s body. And both your father and grandfather had clearly passed away while… well…’

  ‘Attending to a call of nature,’ said the young daimyo simply. ‘We may as well just acknowledge this point, and thus move on.’

  My master gave a small nod, acknowledgi
ng Sakamoto’s pragmatism.

  ‘Quite,’ returned my master. ‘So, absolutely no sign of any intruder – far less foul play – was found; and the wives of both men having already passed away some years previously, they slept alone.

  ‘When your grandfather was found,’ my master continued, ‘natural causes were assumed. He was a man in his seventies, after all, although he’d always enjoyed good health. The physician here declared that he’d probably died of a sudden heart attack.

  ‘But then your father died in exactly the same place, barely a year later… And managed to say a few words, stating that he’d been stabbed, before passing away…

  ‘And now,’ my master concluded, staring directly at the young daimyo, ‘you fear the same fate.’

  The samurai nodded.

  ‘Yes, there is no point in denying this,’ he returned. ‘I sleep in the same quarters as my grandfather and then my father occupied, along with… everything else that implies. I am as yet unmarried, so I sleep alone.

  ‘When my grandfather passed away, no one had any reason to suspect foul play… But then my father died so recently in, as you say, exactly the same place and… situation, and with those last four words to the samurai bodyguard who managed to break down his door. But there was absolutely no sign of any… damage to his body… I saw it myself…’

  The daimyo’s face twisted with strain and grief just for a moment; then he continued –

  ‘It looked to be something of an unanswerable mystery; but then I received news that you were in the area…’

  ‘Yes,’ nodded my master. ‘I would have come sooner – I mean, as soon as I heard about your father’s death – only I was committed to another case. Forgive me.’

  The daimyo’s eyes widened and he gave another small, incredulous smile.

  ‘You… you came to this area intentionally, knowing that I would request for you to come here, once I’d been informed about your presence at a nearby inn?’

  ‘That is correct,’ returned my master quickly. ‘I am afraid to have to inform you that your grandfather and father were certainly murdered. I believe I already know by whom. And you are certainly this assassin’s next target.’

  ‘What? What are you saying? Who… who is this killer? Tell me!’

  The daimyo’s face had reddened; he looked as though he wanted to seize my master by his kimono.

  But my master merely replied calmly –

  ‘My servant here, Kukai, would inform you that I have my own way of working. Believe me, so long as I am here, you are safe, and you may yet know all the answers you obviously seek. But first you must do exactly as I say, without question. Otherwise…’

  The daimyo took a deep breath, and nodded.

  ‘Very well, Ennin-sensei. Such is your reputation that I of course have no choice but to accept. So, how would you proceed from here?’

  ‘We can start by confirming something else I know already, but which I still wish to hear from your own lips… So – had your grandfather, and then your grandfather, anyone who could be called an ‘enemy?’

  Sakamoto gave a short, humorless laugh, his eyes becoming hard.

  ‘After everything else, I can hardly be startled if you are aware that the daimyo of the region next to this one, Noguchi, desires this territory for his own. Both my grandfather and then my father kept a close eye on his activities, along with a strong military force stationed along the border between this region, and his.

  ‘I, of course, will continue to do the same.’

  ‘On the contrary,’ began my master almost lazily, ‘I would be most grateful if you would request that Noguchi attend a banquet, to be held here within this castle, in exactly a week’s time.’

  ‘What? Are you mad? To invite that man here and – ’

  Cutting through the young daimyo’s astounded stammering, my master continued, ‘This invitation can state that there has been tension between the two regions – that is, yours and his – for far too long, and that some sort of communication is by now surely necessary. I am certain that Noguchi will respond positively to such an invitation.’

  ‘Which will make me appear both weak and foolish, and furthermore allow the sworn enemy of my grandfather, father and now me inside this very castle, with a retinue that will undoubtedly consist of his very finest samurai.

  ‘Really, Ennin-sensei…!’

  ‘Were you to suddenly die,’ said my master abruptly, ‘who then would become daimyo?’

  Sakamoto shook his head in dazed incomprehension at such a question.

  ‘I… I have no son, so… What do you mean, in any case, by asking such a thing…?’

  ‘Hmm…’ returned my master. ‘In this case, several men – senior samurai and such here – would as likely as not compete to become daimyo; and Noguchi would certainly use such an ensuing state of chaos in order to make his own attempt to gain control of this region. An attempt which, I have every reason to believe, would be entirely successful.’

  My master’s eyes, above those curiously high cheekbones, were suddenly hard as stone as he said then –

  ‘You must do exactly as I say. Your life is already in grave danger.’

  ‘So you mean to say that Noguchi somehow had my grandfather and father killed? I’ll amass my army now: send them into his region…’

  ‘No, no, no.’ My master cut coldly through such blustering. ‘Until now I was beginning to admire you, for showing definite signs of wise leadership. Do not now go and ruin it all – besmirching, furthermore, the memories of your grandfather and father – with the rash actions of a fool.’

  ‘You said Noguchi murdered my grandfather and father,’ returned Sakamoto sternly. ‘How, exactly, would you have me react?’

  ‘By doing exactly as I say,’ declared my master instantly. ‘So that we might catch the assassin – and this is not Noguchi himself, of course – and thus safeguard your own life.’

  The daimyo was silent for a few moments, clearly deep in thought.

  ‘Very well, Ennin-sensei,’ he said then, with a slight sigh of reluctance. ‘I will dispatch a messenger now, to invite Noguchi here the following Wednesday evening. You and your servant will stay at this castle until then?’

  ‘No,’ returned my master. ‘We have other matters to attend to, and it would be better if Noguchi’s spies – and there are certainly some within this region – have cause to think that I have given up your case as being hopeless. They will certainly be aware by now that you have consulted with me, given that Kukai and I arrived here escorted by your samurai.’

  The daimyo emitted another sigh.

  ‘I don’t understand this, Ennin-sensei, not in the slightest,’ he said mournfully. ‘But, as I say, I have no choice but to do as you say. May I ask exactly when – indeed, if – you intend to return here?’

  ‘As soon as it is dark on the Wednesday evening, shortly before Noguchi himself arrives. It would be better if no one noticed our arrival, so we (that is, Kukai and I) will be concealed on a horse-drawn cart, ostensibly carrying barreled goods and such. The driver will say the words ‘I bring the finest sake and tofu from Hokkaido to the castle of lord Sakamoto’ when challenged by your guard.

  ‘Give the order that this cart is then to be admitted immediately – but do not reveal what this password (or words, to be precise) is until the last possible moment, and then only to the guards manning the gate of the moat’s drawbridge.’

  ‘You really think Noguchi’s spies are so widespread, even among my own force?’ inquired Sakamoto wearily.

  ‘Actually, I do not,’ replied my master, ‘but we must still exercise absolute security at all times.

  ‘Courage, my lord! Soon, I hope to present to you the shadowy assassin who killed your grandfather and father; only…’

  Just for a moment, my master’s voice faltered. Then he finished, a little sadly –

  ‘Only you must then brace yourself for another unpleasant shock.’

  The daimyo’s face had hardened
by now. I saw that if my master could safeguard his life against whoever – whatever – this foul, shadowy assassin was, Sakamoto would make a fine ruler.

  ‘I will see you in exactly one week’s time, Ennin-sensei,’ said the young daimyo firmly, as my master and I rose to take our leave.

  3

  ‘There is nothing to be done here,’ declared my master brusquely, as we prepared to leave the inn where we had been staying. ‘Come, we will leave this region.’

  I remembered what he had said to the daimyo named Sakamoto; it seemed to me that my master (who was so used to playing his cards close to his chest, as it were) was being deliberately indiscreet. The innkeeper, a maid and several guests had clearly heard what he said – and who knew which one of these people might secretly report back to the daimyo of the neighboring region, Noguchi?

  As was customary with any case concerning my master, my mind was by now aflame with questions. Specifically – how, exactly, had Sakamoto’s grandfather and father been murdered, as they attended to what might politely be termed a man’s ‘daily duty’?

  What had Sakamoto’s father meant, by claiming with his dying breath that he’d been stabbed, even though there had apparently been not the slightest sign of injury anywhere upon his body?

  And who was this shadowy assassin, seemingly able to appear and disappear at will inside a locked room high up inside a castle?

  But as my master had already informed the young daimyo, he had his own methods, and these included not revealing the slightest bit of information until it proved absolutely necessary – or (as more often as not), once a case had been concluded…

  In accordance with what my master had said when leaving the inn, we did leave the not overly-large region governed by Sakamoto. But we entered into another region than the one controlled by the daimyo named Noguchi. There we took a room in an inn, and I spent the following few days writing up a couple of my master’s previous adventures.