Yamada Monogatari: The War God's Son

by Richard Parks

  “For a small temple they appear to be well provided for,” Kenji said.

  “This is the family temple of the Shibata Clan,” Yoshiie said, “who are unrelenting in their support. If they were as supportive of the Emperor’s will, this war would have ended years ago.”

  No doubt another reason Yoshiie chose this particular temple to make his pilgrimage. Honoring the Shibata in this manner cannot hurt his cause. My estimation of Lord Yoshiie as a politician as well as a military commander increased.

  “It seems strange a nunnery would be included in the temple complex itself,” Kenji said.

  There were as many reasons for a woman to take holy orders as for a man, but in general the mainline sects were either unconcerned or openly hostile to the idea of a woman achieving Enlightenment. There were exceptions but not many. As often as not, nuns formed their own communities or, when possible, continued to live as they had before, with their families, and continued their spiritual practices in, if not solitude, at least separation from others on the same path. That had not been an option for my sister Rie, who had come here instead.

  “The nunnery adjoins but is separate from the main complex and has its own gate, for obvious reasons,” Lord Yoshiie said. “The nunnery itself was established many years ago by a member of the Shibata Clan who had taken the tonsure herself, and wanted a safe place for her spiritual practice. Apparently she was afraid, if she remained at home, her father would eventually arrange a political marriage for her, holy orders be sodded. As she was a generous patron, the abbot at the time agreed. Eventually other nuns joined her there and carried on after her death.”

  “Your pardon, Yoshiie-sama, but I’m surprised you’re so well versed in the history of this temple,” Kenji said.

  Yoshiie just grunted. “I appreciate good strategy, Master Kenji, wherever I find it, and by removing herself from her father’s direct control, the Shibata nun achieved her objective. The story speaks to me of someone who understood the value of a strategic retreat. Frankly, gentlemen, I did not wish to return to the capital at all after our last setback—my anger and shame at being defeated pressed me to return to the field, but the example of the Shibata nun allowed me to be persuaded that this was not the wisest course, so I chose to withdraw and regroup. Time will tell if I made the right choice.”

  While I was listening to Lord Yoshiie tell his story, I could not help but fix my attention, briefly, on the fact there was a wall between the nunnery and the temple proper. I still believed it best that I called no attention to Rie’s presence or our relationship. Considering the forces at work against both Lord Yoshiie and me, I did not think this course overly cautious, and the promise of the wall and gate made me believe avoiding contact might be possible.

  “More crows,” Kenji said.

  I had noticed our followers from the execution of the thieves, but there were more of them, as Kenji had just noted. Perched in the trees on the grounds of the temple, a few on the walls and roof peaks. Normally a flock of crows would be a rather noisy thing, but these were almost silent. Lost in my own concerns, I had barely noticed them until Kenji pointed them out.

  “There must have been a funeral recently,” Yoshiie said.

  Death attracted them, and since it was the purview of temples to arrange and conduct funeral rites, a few crows loitering about would not be considered unusual. This was more than a few.

  “Lord Yoshiie, would you be so good as to send your guard in first?” I asked.

  He frowned. “Might I ask why? This is a pilgrimage, not the investment of a castle.”

  I smiled. “A humble suggestion, nothing more. For such an important event, perhaps a small display and some pageantry might underscore its significance?”

  “I hadn’t considered the matter in that way,” he admitted. “Very well.”

  Lord Yoshiie gave the order, and two lines of bushi comprising about thirty men rode ahead of the column. Resplendent in yoroi hitatare bearing the Minamoto Clan crest, they did make for an impressive sight. As they approached, the gates to the temple swung open, and they rode inside, half to the left and half to the right, to maintain two separate lines in the inner courtyard. We followed as Lord Yoshiie rode between them to where the abbot of the temple waited to greet him. The monks of the temple lined up behind and in front of Lord Yoshiie’s party. We had ridden halfway to where the abbot waited for us when Kenji reined his mount toward me.

  “Lord Yamada—” His voice was a harsh whisper. I raised my hand for silence.

  “I see them,” I said.

  The monks clustered close to the rack of spears near the wall was one more piece of the puzzle; if the situation wasn’t clear enough already we both heard the creak of the thick temple gates closing behind us and the consternation of the bushi behind us who had found the gates shut in their faces.

  “I suppose I should have asked what the appropriate greeting to give an abbot might be,” Lord Yoshiie said.

  “In this particular case? Simplicity itself,” I said.

  “What is it?” he asked, but I was already drawing my tachi.

  “Kill him!” I shouted.

  To his credit, Lord Yoshiie barely hesitated, but that small delay nearly cost him his life. The “abbot” pulled a long dagger from his robes and sprang forward while Lord Yoshiie was still drawing his sword. I crashed my mount into the false cleric and sent him flying. I hadn’t meant to. My intention was to shield Yoshiie and turn my sword on his attacker, but my control of the skittish beast was not as precise as I had imagined. Still, it served the purpose, and while the man struggled to his feet, one of Lord Yoshiie’s archers put an arrow through the man’s throat. He fell back down and stayed there. Before I could turn back toward Yoshiie, one of the monks rushed me with a long spear, which I barely managed to deflect. The man knew his business, and it was only by reining to the side and spurring my mount so hard it jumped that I dodged the second strike. Another arrow sprouted in the man’s leg like a bloody weed, and I cut him down before he’d finished screaming.

  By now the remaining archers had dropped their bows and drawn swords for close-quarters fighting. By my quick count, five of them had waited too long and were down, either wounded or dead. As many of the monks were in the same condition, and the fighting was fierce.

  Sohei?

  It was a reasonable guess, since bandits and rogue bushi were not uncommon, and most monasteries kept contingents of armed lay-brothers for self-defense. Then again, they didn’t normally disguise themselves as ordinary monks and acolytes—and certainly not as abbots. As much as I wanted to turn my mind to the puzzle, there was no time. We were outnumbered by at least half-again, and the outcome was far from certain. I was relieved to see Lord Yoshiie still in his saddle and fighting with the skill and intensity of a professional warrior. After seeing Yoshiie fight at the Widow Tamahara’s, I did not judge him to be quite at Prince Kanemore’s level, but then I didn’t know anyone who was. He was undeniably more skilled than I was, plus he used his mount to good advantage, keeping it moving, charging and retreating as the situation dictated. I urged my horse forward and managed to cut down another spearman attempting to attack Yoshiie from the rear.

  “We have to keep moving,” he said, breathing hard.

  I understood. We lacked numbers, but our one advantage was we were mounted and our opponents were not. Yoshiie shouted a command I didn’t understand, but apparently his guard did. The survivors quickly broke away from whomever they were fighting and rode to his side. There wasn’t a great deal of room to maneuver in the courtyard, but they used what space there was to regroup. I was about to join them when I noticed that Kenji wasn’t with them.

  Has he . . . ?

  The thought barely formed before I heard the shouting. While our attackers were concentrated on Lord Yoshiie and his bushi, Kenji had made a run for the gate. I could hear the shouts of our soldiers outside the wall, and the door shuddered as they attempted to force it down. Kenji was dismounted now, t
rying to raise the beam that held the gates closed with one hand while fending off two attackers with his staff held in the other, but the beam was too heavy for one man to lift, and the men pressing against the doors from the other side were not helping. I rode past one spearman and rode over another before my horse stumbled on something I couldn’t see and I went flying over its neck. I landed hard, and for a moment could see nothing except an explosion of stars, even as I struggled back to my feet. There was a slim blur on the ground that I prayed was my tachi and was rewarded with the familiar feel of its hilt as I reached down. My vision cleared enough for me to realize the only reason I was still alive was the closest monks were intent on stopping Kenji from opening the gate—they hadn’t even noticed me. I cut one down just as Kenji released the beam, took his staff in both hands, and cracked the skull of another. Shouts and furious threats came from our attackers as they realized the danger, but it was too late. Together Kenji and I managed to shift the beam, and the remaining troops burst through the gates and thundered into the courtyard just as Lord Yoshiie led his surviving guard in a charge from the opposite direction. I wish I’d had the presence of mind to call for prisoners, because in less time than it would have taken me in my younger days to drain a cup of saké, the fight was over.

  Not a single one of the false monks was left alive.

  “You’re bleeding,” Kenji said.

  “So are you.”

  We examined each other’s wounds, but neither of our hurts appeared to be serious. Apparently one of the spearmen had nicked my shoulder, and in the heat of the moment I hadn’t noticed. Kenji had a shallow cut on his leg but was otherwise unharmed. We were bandaging each other when Lord Yoshiie and several of his retainers rode up. He immediately dismounted.

  “How did you know?” he demanded.

  I winced as Kenji pulled the bandage tight. “I believe Master Kenji noticed them even before I did. What I saw was the outline of the abbot’s dagger in his sleeve. I would often do the same thing, in situations where a sword was too bulky and noticeable, so it was no trick for me to discern. What leader of a temple greets an honored guest armed? Not to mention the rack of spears, which wouldn’t be unusual in a training field for sohei, but in the temple courtyard? By the time they shut the gate behind us, their intentions were clear.”

  “As for me,” Kenji said, “I’ve seen careless dress before, even in abbots. But no one had any idea how to wear a surplice correctly. It stood to reason these people were not who they appeared to be.”

  Lord Yoshiie grunted, which was apparently as close to an acceptance of our reasoning as we were going to get. He turned to his men. “Search the grounds,” he shouted and then turned back to us. “Gentlemen, please come with me.”

  Lord Yoshiie phrased his words politely, but it was not a request. We and two of his guards fell in behind as he entered the main worship hall adjoining the courtyard. We saw the first bodies immediately. They had been stripped of their priestly robes before being killed.

  Rie . . .

  It was all I could do to concentrate on what we were seeing, but there was no reason to believe the nunnery had been spared and even less when the first reports reached us: more bodies, stripped, apparently the real monks and priests of Yahiko-ji. Besides my concern for my sister, there was something else about the attack which nagged at my mind, but catching it was like trying to grasp a morning mist. For his part, now that the situation was resolved, Lord Yoshiie considered it from the perspective of tactics.

  “The Mutsu border is not very far from here. My scouts reported no movement, but that was apparently because these assassins were already in place. It would have been easy enough to slip across the barrier disguised as merchants or refugees from the fighting. But to slaughter priests, to defile this sacred structure . . . Lord Sadato is my enemy, but I have always known him to be an honorable man. I would not have believed him capable of this.”

  I spoke up. “Your pardon, my lord, but it’s possible he didn’t even know of it. If someone in his employ was tasked with your destruction, someone with a demonstrated lack of restraint, the precise method of your . . . removal could be a detail such a person might not share with his patron.”

  Yoshiie scowled. “I assume you refer to Lord Tenshin. Perhaps so, but if it was done in Sadato’s name, then he is responsible. Besides, these were not shikigami who attacked us.”

  “True, but shikigami would not have been a good choice for this sort of operation. The timing alone . . . ” I stopped.

  “What is it, Lord Yamada?” Kenji asked.

  “There was something about this whole matter that bothered me, I mean aside from the obvious point we could have very easily been killed. Now I know what it is.”

  “I have you two to thank that we did not,” Lord Yoshiie said. “But what are you referring to?”

  I took a slow breath, let it out. “The timing of the attack wasn’t merely adequate, it was nearly perfect. Consider—a temple is a busy place. There was no way such men as we fought could have kept up this pretense for any length of time. This temple receives pilgrims and visits from local people on an almost daily basis, any of whom would have realized something was amiss. No, in order for the attack to succeed, they would have to move their men into a position from where they could overpower the real monks and take their places with only a few hours’ notice at most. I am guessing we’ll find their encampment nearby if we search the woods surrounding the temple. This body,” I said, pointing to the corpse who appeared to be the late abbot, “has bled profusely, and yet the blood has barely had time to turn black. I’ll wager he was killed no more than an hour or two ago.”

  “Impossible,” Lord Yoshiie said, “my scouts—”

  “For all their diligence, are only human. Our every movement has been shadowed and reported hour by hour. I do not as yet know how, but it is the only explanation.”

  From the look on his face, I knew Lord Yoshiie had reluctantly come to the same conclusion. “The sooner we know the answer to that question, the better. In the meantime . . . ” he turned to one of his guard. “Tell Toshiro I need him.”

  I recognized the name as one of Lord Yoshiie’s couriers. The guard soon returned with the man in question, a short and wiry fellow wearing the Minamoto Clan colors, now spattered with blood. He immediately kneeled, but Lord Yoshiie pulled him to his feet. “Go to the Shibata Clan chief,” he said. “He’ll want to know what happened here.”

  After the courier withdrew, Yoshiie added, “More to the point, I want him to know what happened here.”

  “Your pardon, my lord,” Kenji said, “but unless we get luckier than I expect we’re going to, proving that the Abe Clan was behind this outrage will be very difficult. So far we’ve found nothing to tie this to Lord Sadato.”

  “You’re thinking of the Emperor’s justice and courts of law,” Lord Yoshiie said, “but I’m thinking I don’t have to prove who the culprit is—I know. And so will the Shibata Clan.”

  I could see his point. If whoever planned this attack hadn’t understood or ignored the consequences of failure, they were either far less intelligent or far more desperate than I had believed. I wasn’t relieved to know the second possibility was the more likely. A cornered animal was always the most dangerous.

  “Lord Yamada, I will need a word in private,” Lord Yoshiie said.

  Kenji bowed to him. “I have the feeling I am needed elsewhere,” he said. “Don’t you agree, Lord Yamada?”

  “Yes . . . and thank you.”

  Either I was getting easier to read in my dotage, or Kenji, who had known me longer than almost anyone, was simply developing his skills, but he knew what I wanted him to do, and he immediately left to do it. The guard withdrew to a discreet distance as I bowed.

  “I am at your service, Lord Yoshiie.”

  “Frankly, Lord Yamada, I had my doubts. You are here under Prince Kanemore’s auspices, and it is common knowledge Prince Kanemore is no friend of the Minamoto. Yet you ha
ve saved my life now on two occasions. My resentment of your presence appears to have been misplaced.”

  I bowed lower. “As you are carrying out the Imperial will—and that is where Prince Kanemore’s loyalties are—I can assure you his offer of my assistance, worthless as it might be, was genuine. As is my determination to help you see the Abe Clan is brought to heel. Prince Kanemore understands the danger they present if Lord Sadato is allowed to consolidate and expand his influence.”

  “So our interests coincide. For now. Fair enough and properly stated. But I still owe you a debt. What do you wish of me?”

  “Only that you accept Kenji-san’s and my services, for whatever they might be worth, and place no unnecessary impediments before them. I will consider this gratitude enough.”

  He almost smiled. “And will your friend settle for so little as well?”

  If I had assumed Lord Yoshiie hadn’t paid much attention to either of us, the question shattered that assumption. “It is a great deal, in my opinion, but as for Kenji, well . . . if you could spare a token reward of rice and cloth, it would probably help convince him of the sincerity of your gratitude.”

  Lord Yoshiie did smile then. “Done.”

  Soon after, Lord Yoshiie recalled his guard and sent him to finish searching the remainder of the building, but he found no other bodies. As the guard finished his report, Kenji returned. Clearly, and unlike Yoshiie’s guard, he had seen more bodies. Many more, from the expression on his face.

  “The nunnery?” Lord Yoshiie asked, impassive.

  “Yes. Those poor women . . . ” Kenji looked as if he wanted nothing more than to be sick, but he took a breath and kept his voice steady. “Lord Yamada, I came to tell you . . . your sister . . . ”

  I felt my brain and body go numb, and there seemed to be a mist rising around me, so thick and deep that I almost didn’t hear what Kenji said next.

  “We’ve found her. She’s alive.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  My relief at the news of my sister’s survival had been near overwhelming. I had always been fond of Rie, but perhaps I had not altogether understood exactly how fond. The fact that neither of us has laid eyes on each other in over fifteen years did not seem to matter at all. Lord Yoshiie’s interest was, undoubtedly, of an entirely different nature, and his expression of it, while kind enough, helped bring me back to the task at hand.