Yamada Monogatari: The War God's Son

by Richard Parks

  “I have faith in my scouts, but they have found nothing. How could this be done?” Lord Yoshiie asked.

  “This question is puzzling me as well, my lords. I do intend to find the answer.”

  “Regardless, we know who is ultimately responsible,” Lord Yoshiie said.

  “I can hardly believe this outrage,” Lord Muramasa said, and his anger and bewilderment were both evident. “The Shabata Clan’s relation with the Abe have never been warm, but to do this? I would not have believed it possible. Yet the evidence is overwhelming.”

  Evidence?

  Obviously, the arrow of guilt pointed directly at the Abe, but that was only common sense, not proof. I wanted to ask what evidence he was referring to but, as with the fishermen, I considered it best to keep silent, at least until I had the chance to find other sources of information.

  “Lord Muramasa and I have much to discuss,” Lord Yoshiie said. “Please inform me if there is any change in your understanding.”

  The dismissal was clear and I took my leave. Outside, now and then one could still hear the crows calling to one another, but the covering of the bodies had seemed to discourage them, and there were fewer in the trees now. I immediately went searching for Kenji. As I did so, I spotted Lord Yasuna some distance away, standing with a group of Shibata bushi as if he were just one more member of the honor guard over the bodies. His expression was as melancholy as any I’d ever seen on a human being. Naturally, I would have expected one of his cultured sensibilities to be shocked and outraged by what had happened here, but I saw no sign of it now, just a profound melancholy. I should have taken the time then to speak to him, but I had more pressing business. I found Kenji working among the dead, calmly and methodically washing a corpse.

  “If I were a follower of the Way of the Gods, this would render me ritually impure for a month or more,” he said. “As it is, this is merely distasteful. But there is no one else, at least for the men.”

  “What about those unfortunate women in the nunnery?”

  “Your sister and the nun Tomoko-ana have assumed this duty . . . for which I owe her a great deal. I’m not sure I could have borne it.”

  “I’m sure my sister would have preferred an occupation to sitting idle,” I said.

  “She said the same when she informed me of what she was going to do. Not asked, mind you. Informed. Not that I would have objected. Where have you been?”

  I repeated to Kenji what I had told Lord Yoshiie, only this time I didn’t leave out the part about the fishermen. He just grunted.

  “I don’t think they deserved to keep their heads, and such foolish behavior will catch up with them sooner rather than later,” Kenji said. “Yet for what little it matters, I agree with your actions.”

  “Regardless, they are not our concern. We know the Abe, at least indirectly, were responsible for the attack. Yet so far we haven’t found any sign that shikigami were involved, or indeed anything which would point directly to the onmyoji working for Lord Sadato. I had believed there was no proof of the Abe’s involvement. Lord Muramasa indicated there was. Do you know what he was talking about?”

  “I believe I do. Come with me.”

  Kenji led me farther into the compound where three bodies lay wrapped in white cloth, and nearby a fourth, only it had been draped over with bloodstained robes, not carefully wrapped in clean cloth like the others. “All the attackers had shaved heads, so with both assassins and priests in a similar state of bloody mess, at first glance it was hard to tell them apart. No one realized this man was in priestly robes. Since the only men who were so garbed were our attackers, by rights he should have been dumped in the pile outside with the other assassins. If this had happened, it is likely no one would have known. I had already started my ritual cleansing when I noticed it myself.”

  “Noticed what?”

  “This.”

  Kenji uncovered the man’s lower half. At first I didn’t see anything other than a gaping cut, but then I saw his pubic hair. “It’s red?” It wasn’t blood, I knew. It was the wrong shade of red, and blood would have turned black by now in any case.

  “Red. This man was an Emishi.”

  The barbarians’ hair color varied from very light to dark, but a light red was not uncommon. “Was there just this one?”

  “No. Now that I knew what to look for, I did look, and it was clear at least three more attackers were Emishi. Their features are slightly different from the others, but under the circumstances no one noticed. I reported this to Lord Yoshiie.”

  “So the attackers did come from Mutsu,” I said.

  “There is no doubt at all. What I still don’t understand is why.”

  “Isn’t it obvious? To kill Lord Yoshiie.”

  He sighed. “That’s not what I meant. What I don’t understand is why they would risk using Emishi in the first place, even if it was only three or four of the lot. Their presence is a direct link to Mutsu!”

  “True,” I said. “But think about it—if the attack succeeded? No trace of the attackers to be found, and no one could prove that Mutsu was involved. Even if the Shibata suspected Mutsu and wanted revenge, now they would be on their own. With Yoshiie dead, his father would have had difficulty continuing, and the Emperor’s writ would likely be rescinded if the campaign failed. The other bushi would have returned to their homes, leaving Mutsu unmolested for at least a year or more. Plenty of time to strengthen their position and work on alliances before a new military governor could be appointed. It’s possible the Emperor’s government would have been forced to come to terms with the Abe rather than punishing them.”

  “But the attack did not succeed,” Kenji pointed out.

  “Again true, but the nature of the plan meant the Shibata Clan would be left with a violated clan temple and a strong desire for revenge on whoever was responsible. This would be more than enough incentive to finally join the Minamoto cause, and proof be sodded. That there is proof is almost beside the point, and if the Emishi warriors were available, no reason not to use them. If the plan failed, it failed utterly, and the presence or absence of the barbarians changes nothing. No, Kenji, what interests me now is the reasoning behind the attempt.”

  “Other than killing Yoshiie would likely, as you just pointed out, end the war? It has been going on, with minor interruptions, for nearly twelve years!”

  “But why take the risk? Lord Sadato has bested Yoshiie in the field before. It’s not impossible he might do so again. This possibility had to be weighing on the minds of all bushi who have joined the Minamoto. The forces we’ve picked up along the way have, for the most part, been little more than tokens. This is about to change—drastically, I wager.”

  “The Shibata?”

  “Not just the Shibata. If the governor of Echigo doesn’t at least double his intended levy, I’ll be amazed. Then there are the temples in Echigo and Dewa. Once they learn of this outrage—and you can be certain Lord Yoshiie will see they do learn—likely they will send their lay-brother warriors, the sohei, to join us as well. How long will the funeral rites take? The Shibata will insist on a delay until that is done, almost certainly.”

  “More than a month, under normal circumstances, but Lord Yoshiie has already sent messengers to the closest temples. They will be sending additional priests to handle the prayers and to take over the proper functioning of the temple itself for the time being, so all will be handled appropriately and respectfully enough to satisfy the Shibata, I think. We will be able to continue to Dewa once the initial rites are concluded . . . probably a week or two at most.”

  “More than enough time for Lord Yoshiie to pick up even more support. This ill-conceived attack is likely to mean the complete destruction of the Abe Clan. There was potential benefit, but nothing compared to what the Abe stood to lose. Lord Sadato, by all accounts, is neither a fool nor reckless. So again I must wonder—why take this risk?”

  Kenji rubbed the stubble on his head. “I can’t fault your expression of the m
atter, and if what you say is true, then there are only three possibilities I can see. The first is the Abe Clan’s situation is worse than we were led to believe, and this was an act of pure desperation.”

  “Possible, but unlikely,” I said.

  “The second is this plan was conceived and carried out without either Lord Sadato’s knowledge or approval.”

  “Possible,” I admitted. “Perhaps even likely. What’s the third alternative?”

  “One which does not necessarily exclude the second, unfortunately. The alternative that concerns me the most—the possibility the plan to assassinate Lord Yoshiie has not failed. Yet.”

  I frowned. “You suspect other conspirators, unknown to us?”

  Kenji sighed. “I suspect nothing. I simply remember something an occasionally wise man once said to me. He told me to be on my guard. When I asked him why, he essentially said ‘because there was no reason to do so.’ ”

  I almost laughed. “I believe I’ve met the fellow, Master Kenji. But I would never call him wise.”

  “Be that as it may, we now believe the worst is behind us, Lord Yamada. What if we’re wrong?”

  I started to argue the point, but it occurred to me my own advice might have some merit. “Then let us be on our guard,” I said. “Always.”

  I left Kenji to his grim duty and crossed into the nunnery, where I found my sister Rie and Tomoko-ana likewise engaged. The first guard was no longer there, but another kept watch at a respectful distance.

  “I don’t wish to intrude—”

  Rie dismissed my remark. “Under the circumstances, we will not ask for your assistance—not out of delicacy, as our sister nuns are no longer concerned with such trivialities—but because I know my brother, even after all these years. You did not come here to assess our progress, did you?”

  My sister, as I remembered, was just as blunt of speech as ever, but she wasn’t wrong. “I still need to speak to the nun called Mai,” I said. “Is she any better?”

  “Brother, you will have to judge for yourself, but there was no change when we left her to assume this sad duty,” Rie said. “Just so you understand the situation better, Mai-chan has not yet taken holy orders. She was offered to the temple as a servant by parents who could no longer care for her. Such things happen far too often with girls of poor families. She was only fortunate they didn’t choose to sell her to a brothel instead. Our prioress took her in with the understanding she would make her own choice when the time came . . . which now, may never come.”

  I considered this. “Thank you. We will talk later, when both of our obligations allow.”

  I bowed to the women and proceeded to the building where the three surviving nuns were being housed. The guard acknowledged me and I went inside. I came back out onto the veranda immediately.

  “Where is she?”

  “Who—” the guard started to ask, but then he hurried past me and peered into the interior. “How did she escape?” he asked.

  It took us only a moment more to discover the shuttered window, now closed but unlatched. Difficult to force from the outside, but simplicity itself to open from the inside. Any suspicion I’d had that Mai had been taken against her will evaporated. Mai had apparently recovered her senses well enough to work out an escape, but the how of it barely concerned me. I wanted and needed to know why. When we came back outside, Rie and Tomoko-ana were waiting for us.

  “What has happened? Where is Mai?” Rie asked.

  “Gone, and apparently of her own volition,” I said.

  “The child is not in her right mind,” Tomoko-ana said. “She must be found before she comes to harm.”

  I wanted to say she could not have gone far, but in truth she could have vanished the moment Rie and Tomoko left her alone, and they had been at their work, judging from their progress, for hours. “Is there another way out of the compound?”

  “We have another door in the wall,” Rie said. “We use it for errands.”

  I had an idea. “Could it have been used to get one of the assassins into the compound?”

  Rie was adamant. “No. It was always barred from the inside, the same as the main gate. Since they somehow got our connecting gate open, there would have been no need to unbar both of them.”

  What Rie said made perfect sense, and there was still no answer as to how the assassin had gotten inside. I put the question aside for the more immediate concern. “Show me.”

  Rie and Tomoko-ana led me to the far side of the nunnery compound. There was a small but strong door, almost a second gate, set in the wall. Only it was not barred and halfway open. I saw a small footprint in the dirt just beyond it. I looked out. There was a small road going north and south, beyond that wooded hillsides, but no sign of Mai. “Why would she run?” I asked. “The danger is past.”

  “She may not understand this. It is as Tomoko-ana said,” Rie replied. “Her mind is clouded by fear. Who can say what she was thinking? But we need to find her before . . . before anything more happens to the poor girl. She is simply not capable of fending for herself in her current state.”

  “Leave this to me,” I said, as I closed the door and picked up the bar and put it back into place. “For now, keep this door barred and continue with what needs to be done. I will let you know as soon as she’s found.”

  “We must depend on you, brother,” Rie said. “Please, find Mai-chan for us.”

  The sun was getting lower in the sky, which was more than enough reason to hurry. I commandeered two bushi who looked as if they needed something to do. I told them who we were searching for and, once the trail from the nunnery had proved impossible to follow, sent one on the road north toward the ocean and the other south toward the town of Yahiko. For myself, I crossed the road and entered the trees of the hillside. I didn’t necessarily expect to find Mai there, but I knew I would find someone.

  I had barely reached the crest of the first wooded hill when Lady Kuzunoha appeared there. I sometimes forgot just how beautiful she was in her human form. What I never intended to forget was what she really was under the mask of humanity she wore. A mask, I knew, she often wore merely to humor ones such as myself. It was only when she spoke of Lord Yasuna I felt as if she secretly wished with all her heart her human mask was real.

  “Lord Yamada,” she said without any preamble, “what is the matter with Lord Yasuna?”

  “I don’t understand what you mean,” I said. “I saw your lord just before I left the temple compound. He was in good health and certainly, to my best knowledge, under no threat of any kind.”

  “Did he not seem . . . disturbed to you? Or did you notice?”

  “Actually, he seemed sad. A thing not to be overly wondered at, I would think, considering what happened in the temple, as I’m sure you’re aware.”

  “I know what happened there,” she said. “And before you ask me, no, I was not involved in the attempt on Lord Yoshiie’s life.”

  I was about to set foot in dangerous territory, but I didn’t see any way around it. “Lady Kuzunoha, surely you cannot be indifferent in this? We both understand it would be to your advantage for Lord Yoshiie’s mission to fail. If he falls, the attack against the Abe is thwarted, and Lord Yasuna will be able to return home.”

  “If Yoshiie succeeds, the result is the same,” Lady Kuzunoha pointed out. She smiled then. “Yet my lord returns to the capital much faster and is less exposed to the hazards of war if Lord Yoshiie were to meet with fatal misfortune sooner rather than later, and I will not pretend to weep if it happens, but neither do I seek it. I have been honest with you in this regard, Lord Yamada, and I will continue to be so. I expect the same from you.”

  “Very well, then I must ask—did you know an attack was planned?”

  “I did not. Before today I had not so much as crossed this road. I had planned to avoid the temple altogether. There is something . . . something not right there.” She said, hesitantly. I was not used to Lady Kuzunoha being hesitant, and it worried me.

>   “There would have been a large number of assassins pretending to be priests,” I said.

  She looked at me with the vaguely pitying look I had seen from her at our first meeting, many years before. “There is no ‘would have been,’ Lord Yamada. There is nothing ‘past.’ Whatever was wrong there is still wrong. My concern for my lord brought me there so I could see him with my own eyes, and I do not regret that, but I will not go there again except either to save or avenge him.”

  “What are you talking about? What is wrong?”

  “I do not know,” she said. “But I should not have to tell you my fox-demon senses are much more refined than your own, and there is something unnatural about the place. If you really want to protect Lord Yoshiie, I’d advise him to continue to Dewa province without delay.”

  I knew this would not be possible, at least not yet. Decorum and proper respect was crucial when building alliances, which Lord Yoshiie was in the process of doing even as Lady Kuzunoha and I met. There was no chance he would risk failure at such an important task based on what was no more than a suspicion. I would have told Lady Kuzunoha the same, but her attention had already shifted.

  “I wanted to see you because of my concern for Lord Yasuna. Something is troubling him. I can sense this, even as I sense what is waiting within the temple grounds now. I would understand anger or fear, perhaps, in this situation, but sadness? This I do not understand. I-I want you to find out what is making him so sad.”

  It seemed Lady Kuzunoha was as confused by Lord Yasuna’s reaction as I was. “He may not confide in me, but I will do my best, I promise. In return, however, I am in need of a favor from you.”

  She frowned. “What is it?”

  “Sometime this afternoon a young woman named Mai disappeared from the community of nuns. I need your help to find her, and before dark if possible. She is . . . confused, somewhat, by what has occurred.”

  Lady Kuzunoha smiled. “Confused? If she sought escape I’d call her mind clearer than the lot of yours. Regardless, there are youkai and worse lurking in these woods, so it would probably be best she is among her own kind. At least they—so far as I know—do not wish to make a meal of her. Show me where I can find her scent.”