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

by Ben Stevens

  My master, meanwhile, disappeared on a number of mysterious errands. He returned from one carrying something within a black bag, which he quickly secreted in a much larger bag, made from straw, in which we carried most of our spare clothing and other possessions while travelling.

  When my master returned the following occasion, his expression was grave.

  ‘I am now certain that the assassin we hope to catch is one of the most dangerous in all of Japan,’ he informed me. ‘A ninja of infamous reputation, formerly in the employ of the ex-daimyo named Jubei – the so-called ‘Demon King’.

  ‘Indeed, this ninja may still be ultimately loyal to Jubei, who has undoubtedly rejoined forces with the evil monk named Sesshu. Yes, that is most likely, I think. This low-key daimyo named Noguchi is merely being used; he will be destroyed by Sesshu, the Demon King, this ninja and a number of others in this select cartel, once he has served his purpose.’

  For once, I did not have to ask my master what he meant.

  ‘The purpose of replacing the Empress of Japan with Sesshu upon the Chrysanthemum Throne, with the Demon King consequently becoming his number-one daimyo, and with this ninja and whoever else doubtless obtaining whatever reward they too have been offered.’

  ‘Excellent, Kukai!’ declared my master, his shining eyes at once displacing his recent, tired expression. ‘There you have it, in a nutshell. All across Japan, various crimes are taking place, all of them ultimately implemented and controlled by Sesshu. Indeed, we were both embroiled in one such crime only recently…’

  For a few moments, my master’s expression was again grave, and I knew that he was remembering the case I had entitled The Picture of Death. (‘Why must you always be so dramatic, Kukai?’ demanded my master afterwards, when he learnt of the title – yet I knew the memory of that case still caused him a shudder, as it did me. It was, after all, one of those times when I have come closest to death.)

  ‘Yes, he is again responsible for a campaign of robbery, intimidation, murder and general mayhem,’ continued my master. ‘But there is only one of me, and I can hardly be everywhere at once!’

  The last sentence saw my master display almost as much emotion as I had ever seen. Then when he had regained his usual, steely self-control, he said –

  ‘And yet… I fear that Sesshu is planning something… something truly terrible, that will make all of these distractive crimes pale into insignificance… But what this is, I cannot yet say…’

  Never, never had I observed the fear that at once flared in my master’s eyes. It was there only for a second – and then it was gone. And yet the sight of it had chilled me to the bone.

  I knew I could not question my master about what exactly he meant, concerning this predicated crime that would be ‘truly terrible’. Yet I could ask about this mysterious ninja, who (if I was interpreting the cryptic clues correctly) had killed Sakamoto’s grandfather and father – and now had the young daimyo himself lined up, as his next target.

  ‘So this… this ninja can appear inside a locked and guarded room, situated some hundred-feet high within a castle?’ I asked my master hesitantly. ‘Will the answer to this mystery be as it was in the case I entitled The Ninja, master?’

  ‘No,’ returned my master at once, shaking his head. ‘There we had a daimyo whose crimes and general, evil way of living resulted in his death. One of those cases where I have actually decided to protect the ‘culprit’, as it were.

  ‘Here we have a… rather different assassin. One who has turned what some might call ‘misfortune’ into his specialty – in order to develop, and perfect an ancient Chinese method of assassination. He was given plenty of practice at this way of killing, courtesy of the Demon King.

  ‘Only, when he attempted to eliminate Sakamoto’s father, he made a minor mistake. Very minor; but still it allowed for Sakamoto’s father to live just long enough to cry out, and then gasp a few final words to the samurai who found him.’

  “I have been stabbed’, I believe were those words, master,’ I said. ‘And yet, if his son is to be believed, there was not so much as one mark upon his body!’

  ‘No,’ returned my master. ‘No injury was evident upon his body; and yet I have no reason to doubt his son’s words.’

  ‘Nor I, master,’ I rejoined, having in general been impressed by that young daimyo’s character and deportment.

  ‘So Sakamoto’s father must have been – I don’t know, delirious, maybe, to say such a thing,’ I said then.

  ‘Oh no,’ declared my master mildly. ‘He was speaking the truth. The grandfather would have said such a thing, also, had he not died the very moment the assassin struck. On that occasion, the ninja’s hand was completely steady.’

  I gave it up. Yet again, my master seemed to be talking in riddles. But I knew that all would become obvious to me – hopefully – in just a couple of days now. For that was when we were both due to return to the castle – on the very same evening that this rival daimyo named Noguchi had been invited to attend a banquet…

  4

  As my master had said, it was a horse-drawn cart, loaded with barrels, which transported us the few ri back to Sakamoto’s castle. Presumably, my master had arranged for this cart to collect us, from close by the inn, during one of his previous excursions. In any case, it was there waiting for us as dusk began slowly to fall, the driver – hunched over his reigns – saying nothing as my master and I concealed ourselves among the barrels.

  The cart trundled along several roads, the ‘going’ becoming significantly bumpier as it then crossed the castle drawbridge. Upon being challenged by a guard, the driver returned ‘I bring the finest sake and tofu from Hokkaido to the castle of lord Sakamoto’ and immediately entrance was permitted.

  We alighted in a busy courtyard area, full of gossiping samurai and servants carrying various items. As the cart was unloaded, a large samurai approached us, saying –

  ‘Ennin-sensei and his servant? Would you come with me, please? Lord Sakamoto is waiting for you.’

  We accompanied this samurai away from the courtyard now being illuminated by burning torches, and followed him along winding corridors and up twisting flights of stone stairs. My master’s face, semi-illuminated in the sporadic light of the spluttering, wall-mounted torches, was set and grim. He did not have to say anything, for both the samurai and I to know that we needed to walk as fast as possible.

  And then we were in a room in which Sakamoto and some of his most senior samurai were sat.

  ‘Greetings, Ennin-sensei,’ said the young daimyo.

  My master nodded.

  ‘We have little time before Noguchi arrives,’ declared my master, ‘while the man who intends to kill you this every evening – or perhaps the following morning – is already in ‘place’, waiting.’

  The samurai glanced at one another in surprise at these words, but this time it was Sakamoto’s turn to give just a slight nod.

  ‘And so how do we proceed from now, Ennin-sensei?’ he asked.

  ‘We will go to the floor that is below the one in which you have your quarters – the floor where I believe some of your most senior samurai have their quarters,’ returned my master. ‘There, in two of these quarters – and specifically, in their toilet – I will station two of your men, in preparation for the plan I have to ‘smoke out’ this assassin.’

  My master said the words ‘smoke out’ with the faintest smile, although this vanished abruptly as he then produced two black ‘blocks’, roughly two fingers long and also approximately two fingers thick, from inside his kimono. These blocks looked to have been made from some sort of gritty substance, and had a short piece of twine – resembling a wick – emerging from one end, as though they could be lit.

  ‘There is one thing,’ continued my master. ‘We will need a couple of pairs of long tongs, such as might be found in a kitchen…’

  The youthful daimyo directed a curt nod at one of his samurai, who immediately left the room.

  ‘T
he longest you can find, mind,’ called my master after the man.

  Another man almost immediately entered inside the room. With a bow, he addressed Sakamoto –

  ‘My lord, Noguchi has arrived.’

  ‘Go and greet him, my lord,’ said my master, looking at Sakamoto. ‘But after half an hour or so, make an excuse to leave the dining area. I will be waiting outside your quarters – and setting in motion the plan I have devised, we will enter inside. It only remains then for the assassin to show himself, as he must, and all your questions will be answered.

  ‘But,’ added my master grimly, ‘I must warn you again. You will soon know everything you wish to, concerning what truly happened to your grandfather and father – but the answer to this mystery is an unpleasant one, to say the least…’

  ‘The truth is always better than ignorance, however hard it is to bear,’ returned the daimyo, so that again I marveled at the wise head that was sat upon still-young shoulders.

  The samurai returned carrying two long pairs of tongs. Pointing at another samurai, my master said –

  ‘Give him one pair, and keep the other for yourself. Come, we will go to the floor below the one on which lord Sakamoto has his quarters – and there I will explain further what needs to be done.’

  The samurai glanced at Sakamoto, who verified my master’s words with a nod. We all of us then left the room; Sakamoto and his samurai bodyguard proceeding down to wherever the banqueting hall was located – and my master, I and the two, tong-carrying samurai continuing up the twisting stone staircases.

  5

  We were waiting outside Sakamoto’s chamber when he arrived, as my master had requested, some thirty minutes later. The door was unlocked, and we entered. These were not unduly ostentatious quarters, even for a daimyo. A sleeping area, an area that looked to be used mainly for study – and the toilet.

  ‘Quiet now!’ hissed my master, as we stole into that small, wood-lined room. Two samurai accompanying Sakamoto were carrying torches; my master motioned that they should stay outside the lavatory area. My eyes darted everywhere, probing the darkened walls and ceiling, but it was absurd. There was absolutely no possibility for an assassin to be able to conceal himself anywhere.

  Then my master nodded at me. As I had already been instructed, I left the daimyo’s chamber, going down a flight of stone stairs to the floor below. There waited the two samurai carrying the tongs and those strange black ‘blocks’. They too had already received their orders from my master, concerning what they were to do once they received their instructions.

  Now, I stole into the darkened rooms where the two samurai were waiting (noise and light, my master had already informed us, were to be avoided as much as possible), and signaled that they should do as they’d been told.

  This involved the wicks of those black blocks being lit, and then these blocks being held with the tongs actually inside the toilet itself.

  ‘The blocks make an awful lot of smoke,’ my master had told the samurai. ‘Make sure that this smoke blows along the waste pipe running under these lavatories, and not just straight back up into your faces…’

  Those black blocks lit, I hurried back upstairs to the daimyo’s quarters, eager to see what, exactly, all of this was leading to…

  There with my master, the young daimyo and his two samurai bodyguard, we waited. Soon, I could see even in the semi-darkness wispy smoke beginning to emerge from out of the daimyo’s toilet.

  Then, I heard coughing coming from inside the toilet itself!

  ‘Grab this man as soon as he reveals himself,’ instructed my master in an urgent whisper. ‘Get him down on the floor and hold him fast – do not give him the slightest bit of time or space in which to struggle…’

  But a man, down there in the toilet? Surely the pipe system which ran along beneath the various latrines, taking the waste out to wherever (although a river ran close by the castle, so that I could take an educated guess as to where this pipe ultimately discharged its contents – and where a potential intruder could conceivably gain entry) was not wide or big enough for a man to be able to crawl up it?

  …An arm appeared… a head… a small, almost emaciated body emerging like some hideous nightmare from out of the very toilet itself! As one, the four of us moved forward, grabbing at this apparent apparition as all around him smoke billowed out, causing us also to cough and screw up our eyes.

  But remembering my master’s words, we were quick to pull out this creature that had been lurking beneath the toilet, there in the foul-smelling darkness and waste. Needless to say, it was highly unpleasant even having to touch him, and the stench was abominable, but these were things to worry about later.

  Right now, we pushed this dwarf (for it was a dwarf – a man no more than three feet in height, and also extremely thin, such was undoubtedly how he’d been able to crawl up and along the pipe system servicing the castle latrines) down onto the floor, securing his arms and legs as my master grabbed the strange implement the dwarf had being holding in one hand.

  ‘This,’ said my master, holding it up. ‘This, my lord Sakamoto, was how both your grandfather and father were murdered by Ukifune the dwarf…’

  Like Sakamoto and the two samurai (as we continued to pin the diminutive, black-clad ninja to the floor), I screwed up my eyes in the gloom to try and see exactly what this thing was.

  A length of thin bamboo, with an even thinner, almost willow-like stick emerging from out of its bottom end. This my master pushed upwards, exposing (from the other end of the bamboo) a wicked-looking, sharpened, arrow-like metal head.

  ‘The length of bamboo is jabbed up inside the victim’s rectum,’ said my master. ‘Then, before the victim has even a chance to cry out, the arrow-head attached to the long, thin stick inside this length of bamboo is pushed eighteen inches or so upwards and straight into the heart. Death is instantaneous – assuming the assassin’s aim is true.

  ‘Not so easy to do in the darkness, hiding down there in the murk and filth of your victim’s toilet – and yet you’re an expert, aren’t you?’ (Here, my master spoke directly to the dwarf pinned to the ground.) ‘After all, the Demon King commonly gave you those men who had incurred his extreme displeasure, so that you might secretly practice your foul craft – a revival of an ancient Chinese method of assassination, which still left no trace of blood or indeed any foul play – until you had become as lightning-fast and generally proficient as possible.

  ‘Only, your aim was ever-so-slightly off, with lord Sakamoto’s father. Still, he died quickly, attempting to convey in his last few words just how he’d been killed. But – with no sign of injury evident on his body, who would think that he’d been murdered in such a disgusting way.’

  ‘I will go back down now, to the banqueting area, and…’

  Saying this, Sakamoto then paused, his breathing heavy, his eyes glowing dangerously in the darkness.

  ‘There is nothing to link this ninja to Noguchi,’ returned my master softly. ‘Ukifune will never say that his orders came from that daimyo, no matter what methods are used in an attempt to make him talk. He serves a greater master, anyway; one who desires to take over the whole of Japan.’

  ‘I fear you are talking in riddles again, Ennin-sensei,’ said the young daimyo. ‘But I am, of course, most grateful to you for having delivered up the person who murdered both my grandfather and father.

  ‘But if, as you say, it will not be possible to prove that the orders for these murders – along with my intended death, as well – came from Noguchi, then what, exactly, should I do with that man downstairs, who together with his entourage is currently enjoying my hospitality?’

  Fanning away the smoke which continued to emit from the toilet, my master said to one of the samurai –

  ‘Kindly go back downstairs and inform the two samurai that they may now extinguish the smoke-making blocks. And lord Sakamoto, I think it would be best if you were to merely inform Noguchi that you regrettably have to cut short tonigh
t’s proceedings, due to the fact that a ninja assassin has just been discovered hiding inside your lavatory.

  ‘So, allow Noguchi to depart for his own castle in the fog of worry and confusion that this statement will undoubtedly cause him – coupled with the knowledge that he has failed a far more evil force than himself.

  ‘Believe me – the time Noguchi has left is even shorter than he himself suspects…’

  ‘Very well, Ennin-sensei,’ said the daimyo. ‘I suspect that this is all part of a larger plan than I can be expected to comprehend; but such is my respect for you that I will do exactly as you say. In any case, thanks to you, I do now have my grandfather and father’s murderer under arrest – and I have also avoided being killed in such a hideous manner.’

  ‘Yes,’ said my master, the single word somehow ominous in the darkness. ‘But keep him under constant guard – do not relax your vigilance against him for a second…’

  ‘You’ve won again this time, Ennin,’ the dwarf suddenly shrieked, his voice full of cheated rage. ‘But your time is coming – aye, your time, and also the time of that servant who serves you! Sesshu-sama and the Demon King will make you pay for all that you have done – pay in a way you cannot possible imagine!’

  At this, my master clamped his hand tight across Ukifune’s mouth, causing the dwarf to only be able to wriggle furiously. As more samurai entered inside the daimyo’s quarters, taking hold of the dwarf and carefully binding his arms and legs, my master said wearily –

  ‘Come, Kukai, we will go. Sadly, I fear that those were not empty words Ukifune was saying. There is some foul plan afoot; this was merely a distraction, for what Sesshu and the Demon King are really intending to do…’

  ‘Thank you again, Ennin-sensei,’ said Sakamoto simply, as my master and I left his quarters.

  But my master only nodded; for his thoughts, I knew, were now completely focused on this shadowy, yet deadly peril which lay ahead...

  The Black Death