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

by Ben Stevens

  I had my dagger. I realized this in a flash. I pulled it from my kimono and leapt upon the dwarf, plunging the weapon into his body once, twice, three times… I almost lost control of my very thoughts and actions, so determined was I to save my master…

  ‘See how effective my toy can be,’ I believe I remarked, looking at Sesshu as the dwarf, mortally wounded, fell from my master’s body. Sesshu and the Demon King moved forwards – yet even as he continued to choke, at least now able to breathe again, my master grabbed the dying ninja’s garrote and leapt at Sesshu, delivering a fierce kick at Jubei as he did so.

  The Demon King fell – I at once leapt on top of him, my knife ready. Something made me look up; there Ezo stood poised, his sword raised, ready in a moment to bring it slicing down towards me…

  I rolled clear at the very last moment, so that the blade commenced its downward arc and bit deeply into the Demon King, who was wearing only a kimono. Jubei began to gurgle, blood spouting from his mouth for his throat had been cut by the vicious blow.

  Seizing my chance – for Ezo stood as though shocked, and I still held my dagger – I started towards this leader of the Au tribe. Then I realized that I could not close the gap between us in time; he was bringing his great sword up again, against which I was completely defenseless – for I had only my small dagger…

  I had only one chance: a desperate bluff. I held my dagger by its blade, lifting it up by my shoulder as though I was about to hurl it at my opponent. Only I knew that I had never ‘thrown’ a dagger in my life; I had absolutely no idea how to do such a thing…

  But that big, heavily-bearded man at once turned, and ran as though for his life away from the stables, heading towards the glowing flames that were now coming from the rear of the main, massive building, shouting all the while for help…

  He was a coward, I realized, for all his size and strength. Nothing but a coward…

  ‘This is for my friend Fujiwara, Sesshu, and everyone else you have murdered – everyone…’ said my master, crouched behind Sesshu and pulling the garrote tight.

  The evil monk’s eyes were popping nearly out of his head, the moonlight causing them to gleam in their final death agony. The lips opened, as though trying to speak, but only drool emerged. Then the claw-like hands fell away, no longer seeking to clutch at the metal wire…

  But still my master continued to pull the garrote tight, his face as convulsed with passion as ever I had seen it…

  Finally I had to tap him on the shoulder, saying cautiously –

  ‘Master… it is done. He is dead.’

  At this my master nodded, and letting go of both the garrote and Sesshu’s lifeless body stood up.

  ‘Come, Kukai,’ he said then, his face with the high cheekbones gleaming from the flames that were no great distance away, the fire spreading all the time.

  ‘Let us get our horses – and be gone from this place.’

  8

  The guards on the watchtower were distracted by the flames, so that we were actually through one of the gates and out on that great grassy plain before a cry followed us. The moon had ducked behind a cloud; although I believe a few arrows were fired after us, they landed hopelessly far away. We put the horses’ heads down and raced for the nearest mountain, covered in forests and bamboo groves. There, in the darkness, we were certain to lose any other horsemen who were dispatched after us.

  But none came. Evidently, everyone in that settlement was too concerned with trying to put out the two fires which had quickly spread either end of that large, multi-level building. This building was almost certainly destroyed, so that the people in the settlement would be mainly attempting to stop those buildings nearby from catching fire.

  My master and I had no concerns that any ‘innocents’ would be harmed by the fires my master had started, primarily in order to destroy those plague-infected rats. The women, children and ordinary laboring men – that is, those people who almost certainly had no idea concerning just what their leader Ezo had authorized Sesshu to do – lived in buildings well away from the centre of the settlement. In fact, their homes were closest to the fields that lay just inside the great wooden perimeter – that is, well away from the flames.

  Ezo remained alive – but I wondered just how much longer a man like that would remain in command of the fiercely-proud warriors of the Au tribe. After tonight’s destruction, he would certainly have a lot of explaining to do. A few of his people had undoubtedly been party to Sesshu’s plot (there were those horsemen who’d thundered out of the settlement virtually every night, carrying the plague-infected rats which would be ‘introduced’ into some village or town) but still… I truly doubted whether many of the Au had had any idea of what had been happening, there inside that large building…

  In any case, Sesshu, Jubei and the dwarf ninja Ukifune were now dead. I had killed a man, just as my master had too… As I rode my horse, there in the inky darkness underneath the spreading branches of the mountain forest, I told myself that I’d had no other choice. After all, how many thousands of innocent men, women and children had died a horrible death from that plague, all because of the lunatic actions of Sesshu and his closest followers…?

  All night we rode. Only at the first light of dawn did we finally stop for a rest, certain that no one was pursuing us. A few days’ hard riding lay ahead of us, until we were back in the Imperial City and were able to inform the Empress of everything that had happened.

  I felt slightly light-headed, my limbs a little shaky. A delayed reaction, no doubt, to the extreme stress and adrenaline I had recently experienced. Now I sat on a great fallen log, and gratefully inhaled the crisp, clear morning air.

  ‘I don’t believe I’ve ever smelt anything so beautiful, master,’ I remarked. ‘Indeed, I’d almost say that the very air itself smells sweet…’

  When there was no reply, I turned to look at my master. And he was staring back at me with a look of absolute horror.

  I sickened quickly. My master hastily constructed a crude hut out of bamboo and such, and inside this laid me on a bed of ferns, covering me with both our straw coats. I was sweating and feverish, shaking violently. I could feel those vile, purple-black lumps growing in my armpits, around my groin and on my neck. Endlessly my master brought me water from a nearby stream, in the two cups we always carried, but this did nothing to slake my raging thirst.

  ‘Go, master…’ I told him hoarsely. ‘You must go now and tell the Empress what you know – before you too catch this vile sickness…’

  ‘No,’ said my master, shaking his head. I had never seen him cry before, so that I almost felt like admonishing him for his weakness. ‘No, I shan’t leave you. There must be something to be done…’

  ‘There is nothing,’ I said, barely able now even to speak. My sight was steadily growing dimmer, my entire world descending into darkness. Soon, I knew, my master would have no choice but to set this rough hut he’d made on fire – with my corpse lying within it.

  Then my master grabbed my right hand, and putting his mouth close to my right ear said fiercely –

  ‘You won’t die, Kukai – do you hear me? Not now; not like this. These boils of yours are full of pus and poison and must surely be evacuated – there can be no other solution. So make up your mind to take the pain – and it will be hellish – and we shall proceed…’

  I had not the slightest idea what he was talking about. In any case, I was by now half-delirious. Vaguely, I realized that he was then constructing a small fire by my bed, and was holding the blade of my dagger in the flames.

  ‘Bite on this,’ he said, at the same moment shoving a thick stick lengthways inside my mouth. ‘I’m sorry, Kukai…’

  Again, I’d not the faintest idea what was meant by either the instruction or the apology. Then a sickening, slicing, burning pain flared up in my groin. I screamed – I mean, really screamed – sheer agony suddenly lending me fierce strength as I attempted to twist and thrash myself free of this torture.
>
  But it was no use; my master was holding me firmly down with just one arm. With the other hand he was cutting and then twisting the knife, removing both the boils and all the putrid, rotten flesh in and around them…

  Hot tears coursed down my cheeks. I begged and whimpered for mercy. I cursed my master, such names as I have never used towards another human being, before or since. And still he continued to cut and slice, now working around my armpits. He had a wet piece of cloth, warmed slightly by the meager flame of the small fire, which he used to clean the cut areas as best he could. But it was the blade, heated until it was red-hot and then used for the purposes of cauterizing that caused me to yell the loudest…

  Until, finally, I lost consciousness…

  Epilogue

  I survived, of course. My master’s desperate ‘treatment’ undoubtedly saved my life, there in that crudely-constructed hut on a remote hillside. But it was a full two weeks before I was sufficiently well enough to be able to ride again, my emaciated body still covered with scars and burns.

  Of what happened then, all Japan knows. Once we’d managed to return to the Imperial City, and had spoken in confidence with the Empress, the order went out that all the cramped, poorer dwellings in villages and towns right across Japan were to be torn down, all rubbish and waste to be immediately burnt, and strict measures introduced to make all communal living areas considerably cleaner places – with heavy fines for anyone who did not comply. (Of course, the poor were compensated for the destruction of their wretched property.)

  It was explained that it had been discovered that rats were responsible for the spread of the plague. Naturally, this ensured that half of these vermin the length and breadth of Japan were quickly exterminated. Before rats had been largely ignored; now their nests and such were actively sought out, and destroyed, their carcasses then being burnt on great fires.

  (Word also reached us that other countries both near and far were also slowly recovering from the Black Death, and that reports of whole countries having been left entirely denuded of people, at least, had been greatly exaggerated.)

  Of Sesshu’s diabolical spreading of the plague across Japan… After close discussion with the Empress, it was decided that nothing would be said about this. It would stay a closely-guarded secret. We learnt that Ezo had already been replaced as leader of the Au – the result of an internal revolt by his own men – but if the Japanese were to discover that some members of this tribe had been party to Sesshu’s plan, then every member of the Au would ultimately be massacred; there would be nothing short of genocide…

  In any case, Sesshu, Jubei and the dwarf ninja Ukifune were dead. My master’s biggest enemies – the worst enemies of Japan itself – were no more.

  With the Empress’s quiet words of praise still sounding in our ears, we left the Imperial City, finally taking a room in a quiet little inn with a hot spring.

  There, both my master and I sunk into a terrible depression. I because I was still very far from being the man I’d been before catching the plague. My master had saved my life, certainly; but still I was as weak as a child, quickly overcome by fatigue after the slightest exertion. So it was that I took to drinking rather too much sake, staring out of the inn at the misty mountains, wondering if I would ever again feel better.

  And my master… As terrible as this may sound, Sesshu, Jubei and their shadowy followers (not all of whom, of course, were dead) had at least given his razor-sharp mind a purpose. With nothing to attract its interest, no stimulation except for food, alcohol and geisha, he quickly became morose and monosyllabic, rising late and going to bed early, scarcely bothering even to shave, or change his clothing.

  And then one day, when we both sitting within our room with the remains of yet another meal before us, there was a knock on the sliding door and in entered a middle-aged woman, upon her knees.

  ‘Forgive me,’ she said, shuffling forward. ‘But do I have the honor of addressing the great Ennin-sensei…?’

  ‘What is it you want?’ grunted my master rudely; but she did not even appear to notice, continuing –

  ‘It is my husband, Ennin-sensei…’

  ‘Yes, so – what about him?’

  ‘He has been dead these past five years – and yet, twice this week so far, I have awoken to find him standing beside my bed. It was unmistakably him. Both times, he left before I could even say anything, far less get up.

  ‘Fearing that I was just going mad – although I believe I am of firm mind, if I say so myself – I went yesterday evening to my family tomb, in the grounds of a temple that is near here.

  ‘And there – ’

  ‘Yes?’ said my master, his voice no longer sounding bored or irritable.

  ‘Ennin-sensei – there, in the twilight, I saw him creep through the cemetery towards this tomb, open the marble door, and entering inside then close it behind him again. Yet when I finally steeled myself to open that same door (just before it got dark), inside there was only a small cavity containing the jars of ashes of my relatives – as well as that jar which is supposed to contain the remains of my husband!’

  As eerie and chilling as this story was, still I believe I could almost have embraced this woman for having told it. My master’s ennui had completely fallen away; and as for me, I now scarcely even noticed that my cup was again empty of sake.

  Both of us had been fully gripped by this narrative, which had been told by a woman who was clearly in full control of her mental faculties.

  ‘I see,’ said my master, the pupils of his eyes again, finally, like pinpricks. ‘If I could ask a few questions, and then perhaps accompany you to the home I presume you shared with your late husband…?’

  ‘Oh, thank you, Ennin-sensei,’ said the woman, her relief and gratitude obvious.

  And as she eagerly commenced answering my master’s questions, I breathed a silent sigh of relief, suddenly feeling much fitter than I had in weeks...

  SERIES 3

  The Dark Scrolls

  ‘…When you joined the Temple of the Shining Light,’ declared the Abbot gravely, ‘you knew what was expected of you, as one of its monks. You knew that we are committed to poverty, hardship – and chastity. Harsh rules, and yet we believe that they serve to bring us closer to Buddha, and as such are strictly necessary.’

  The young monk the Abbot was addressing stood with his head bowed, dressed like all the others who’d assembled for this hearing in a kimono made from a coarse brown material. That this material caused the skin to continually itch was entirely intentional; it was merely one of a multitude of discomforts (sleep deprivation and hunger being just two others) which the monks were expected to bear with a glad heart and serene expression.

  ‘You came here for discipline and training,’ continued the monk. ‘To forge extreme strength in both body and mind through this continual testing of your inner spirit. And yet now you have been found guilty of conducting an illicit affair with a woman in the village near this temple – in grave violation of its most sacred of rules – and as such you must leave here, immediately.’

  As though it was possible that the young man might not fully understand what he was being told, the Abbot finished –

  ‘No longer are you a martial monk of the Temple of the Shining Light.’

  At this, the young man fell to his knees on the stone floor, there in front of the Abbot who was staring haughtily down at him. Three lamps spluttered in that otherwise cold and darkened room, the other monks gathered exchanging startled glances as their dismissed colleague said –

  ‘Please, master, please… The shame to my parents if I have to go back to their village, leaving this temple where I have been staying since I was a boy… I will accept any other punishment, any at all… Just, please, not expulsion…’

  ‘My word is final,’ sniffed the Abbot, beginning to turn away. ‘You knew what was expected of you, as a martial monk here. Like us all, you had to strive to conquer the type of base desires which prevent us fro
m fully knowing Buddha. And yet you gave into carnal weakness… No, there is no longer any place for you here…’

  ‘But if I could give this temple something… something truly incredible… What then, master?’

  Something had changed in the young monk’s voice. It was no longer pleading; there was a confidence to it, some strange suggestion of certainty, so that the Abbot now paused in the act of walking away…

  ‘What are you talking about?’ demanded the Abbot.

  As the monk replied, the room seemed to grow steadily darker, the meager flames of the three lamps becoming so low that it seemed likely they would extinguish altogether. Black shadows crept stealthily up the stone walls, something almost unholy surrounding the monks and thus causing them to bunch closer together…

  Only the young monk appeared unaffected by the increasing cold and darkness; and as he continued to speak, it seemed to the Abbot that his eyes glowed slightly – an odd, yellowish color which chilled the Abbot to his very marrow…

  ‘I will write you a collection of scrolls, master, in just one evening,’ said the young monk, his voice now a chilling rasp coming from somewhere deep inside his body. ‘Yes – a collection, a history of everything we know to date concerning poisons, their antidotes, weaponry, unarmed combat, military strategy, philosophy, astrology, treatments and remedies for wounds and sickness… A veritable array of subjects, related to the ‘martial’ aspect of our vocation, as well as other more… abstract, yet no less essential matters…

  ‘Moreover,’ continued the monk, ‘I will do all this in just one night; I will do what it would take perhaps ten men a decade to achieve otherwise. I will give this temple such a gift that its name will be known from one end of Japan to the other – and beyond.

  ‘So make up your mind, master, whether you desire such a thing – and if you do, lock me in a room with a table, as much parchment paper as you can find and all the ink you can provide. Then, tomorrow at daybreak, open up this room and – you shall see that I have not made any false promise. You will have such a wealth of information that men will travel even from overseas to stare upon it – and in return, you will merely permit me to remain at this temple.’