I took a step in the direction of the nunnery, but Mai hung back, and I saw the fear return, sudden and fierce, to her eyes. The nunnery still frightens her. I wondered. Yet she didn’t seem to mind being outside its walls . . .
“Never mind. Let’s go somewhere else . . . I know! Let’s visit the horses.”
The fear receded as quickly as it appeared. Mai seemed almost cheerful as we left the main gate and proceeded south on the road to where Kenji’s and my mounts were corralled. Mai barely glanced at the funeral pyres, their preparation complete and soon to be set ablaze. I knew one of the carefully wrapped corpses was that of the Shibata nun, but I also knew just as certainly her spirit had already departed the earth, and in an hour’s time those of her sisters and brother monks would be sent on their own journeys. I saw Kenji with other priests conducting funeral rites. It had not been possible to conduct a proper funeral with each ritual done at the appropriate time, but under the circumstances no one was being terribly stringent about such matters. What could be done was being done.
The sight of the bodies does not bother her. I did not know if that was strange or not. I knew that Mai had been a peasant farm girl and as such was not terribly sheltered. Her compromised mental state seemed more related to the attack itself, but wouldn’t this stark reminder of the aftermath drag up frightening memories? Yet Mai was smiling as we approached the paddock, the charged funeral pyres apparently already forgotten.
“Were there horses where you came from?”
She nodded absently. Her attention was on the horses milling about the enclosure. I could not have picked out the mounts Kenji and I had ridden if my life had depended on it, but I quickly found Taro, who was working with the other servants to bring in fodder. Suddenly the horses were far more alert as they were given breakfast.
“This is Shiroirei,” he said, patting the neck of a white mare, “and this is Neko.” He pointed to a black-maned horse several feet away.” Only now I recognized them as our mounts.
“You’re taking good care of them,” I said.
“It is my duty . . . and I love horses,” he said, though he was looking at Mai, who was now running her fingers through Shiroirei’s mane.
“This is Mai,” I said. “She might be traveling with us for a time. I’m not certain at the moment.”
“Do you like horses?” Taro asked.
She smiled at him, then went back to playing with the horse’s mane. “She doesn’t talk,” I said. “But I hope she will soon.”
Taro shrugged. “It’s all right. The other grooms talk all the time . . . about things. Sometimes it’s better to be quiet. And she does like horses, I can tell.”
I didn’t ask what things the grooms talked about. I was fairly certain they were subjects unsuitable for Mai’s hearing.
“She used to live on a farm.” I said. While horses as draft animals were rare on a typical farm, it was not beyond possibility Mai had come in contact with the beasts before now, either through travelers or one of the horse breeding operations. She seemed at ease while petting Shiroirei’s neck. Neko approached from the other side and nudged Mai with her muzzle, and soon Mai was petting both, who seemed to appreciate the attention. She barely reached either horse’s shoulder, and she had to reach up to scritch them. Either of them could crush her in an instant, but she didn’t seem the least bit concerned to have such massive beasts so close. She was far more at ease in their presence than I would probably ever be.
This doesn’t fit.
As with the ghost of the Shibata nun and the presence of the funeral pyres, I was reminded again Mai was not nearly so timid and delicate a creature as she sometimes appeared. This was not the first time this had occurred to me, but now it was almost as if it was being emphasized. Yes, she had been genuinely frightened, so much so she’d risked an escape into monster-haunted forests rather than remain at the temple. But the sort of mindless terror I’d seen in her on the first day when she’d been little more than a quivering heap, the mindless terror which had robbed her of her capacity for speech, it simply did not fit the young woman I was coming to know.
She isn’t afraid of returning to the nunnery because of bad memories. She’s afraid because the danger is still there!
I could have kicked myself for a fool. Aside from Lady Kuzunoha’s warning, I already knew something was still not right, and my instincts had pointed me at the nunnery, but try as I might, I had been unable to locate the danger. I and others had searched it repeatedly and found nothing, though a great part of the difficulty was none of us understood what we were looking for. Mai did know, I was as certain of it now as I had ever been. Yet if the danger remained, my sister and Tomoko-ana were in the thick of it. Neither had been harmed, but I was certain neither of them was the target. Lord Yoshiie was, and perhaps this was the only reason either of the surviving nuns was still alive. In attacking them, whatever it was would reveal itself, perhaps too soon. I now realized both women should be removed to safer quarters as soon as possible. There were still outbuildings within the main temple compound not in use and would be relatively simple to secure, at least from human interference. With the gates to the nunnery barred and guarded, whatever was within it could damn well stay there until the ceremonies were over and it could be searched even more thoroughly, not excluding tearing everything down until we found . . . what? I still didn’t know, and I couldn’t escape the feeling I damn well should know.
I left Mai briefly in the care of Taro, Shiroirei, and Neko while I found one of Lord Yoshiie’s couriers. We would need Lord Yoshiie’s permission, but I did not think this would be an obstacle. I gave him instructions and sent him off. When I returned to the paddock, Mai was singing to the horses. I didn’t recognize the tune, but it was probably a traditional peasant song, one of a sort you’d likely not hear in the capital. Her voice, clearly untrained, was lovely.
She saw me then, and she stopped singing and went back to petting the horses as if nothing at all had happened.
“Mai-chan—”
She turned away from me, and I stopped to take a long breath. I knew that a song, something remembered, repeated, was not the same as speaking, but why had she reacted as if she’d been caught doing something she shouldn’t? Like so much else, Mai’s affliction simply no longer made sense to me. Fear? Yes, and likely justified. But mindless horror, terror? It did not fit the Mai I had come to know, and so her affliction of speech did not fit either.
What if the truth is Mai most certainly can speak, but refuses to do so?
Which also didn’t make sense. Unless . . .
I finally thought of a reason. A silly, unbelievable reason. I couldn’t even hold on to the idea at first. I could see it but not quite grasp it, like a bright minnow in swiftly moving waters. So I refused to grasp it, to understand it the way a fuller comprehension would eventually require. Perhaps I didn’t need to think about the implications, for now. I considered it a puzzle, like one of those clever wooden boxes which appeared to have no hinges, no latch—indeed appeared to be nothing more than a simple block of wood—but opened easily once you knew the trick. All I had to do was not think too much about what I was going to find inside.
“Mai-chan, I think we need to return to the compound. Say goodbye to your new friends.”
I’m not sure who was sadder for her to leave then: Mai, Taro, or the two horses, since all three of the latter walked with us as far as the makeshift fence as we headed back to the temple compound. We had barely returned to our quarters when I received word that both Tomoko-ana and my sister had adamantly and very vocally refused to leave the nunnery. I wasn’t terribly surprised. Both Tomoko-ana and Rie had made their determination to preserve their community very clear, and I think they were afraid their relocation would prove to be the first step in their order’s dissolution. I accepted the inevitable, but did order a rotation of guards be placed within the compound at all times. The nuns could protest that if they wished, but I was certain they would not. I wanted t
o take the news in person to Lady Rie and Tomoko-ana before the ceremony began, but there was no time. As things stood, I had to leave Mai in the care of two rather stolid Minamoto bushi with strict instructions she was to have no visitors save for myself and Kenji.
I was then present along with Kenji, Lady Rie, and Tomoko-san when the funeral pyres were finally lit. The two nuns concentrated on their prayer beads as the smoke from the dead rose into the sky. Lord Yoshiie, Lord Muramasa, and the Echigo governor sat in state on a raised dais on the far side, ringed by bushi. I was pleased to see Lord Yoshiie had not lowered his guard, but after so many failed assassination attempts, he didn’t seem likely to forget the dangers. Once the burning was well under way, they withdrew along with the Shibata priests to the temple proper. I saw a veiled woman among them who had not been in evidence during the lighting of the funeral pyres themselves.
“Who is that?” I whispered to Kenji. “The new prioress? I had heard she was here.”
“Just so,” he said. “Lady Shibata no Akiko, Lord Muramasa’s first cousin? Second? I’m not sure. She will be formally presented at the feast tonight, but the actual investiture is taking place now, along with the rededication.”
“Aren’t you going?” I asked.
“I’m no longer needed,” Kenji said. “The Shibata priests have made it clear this is their responsibility now, and for my part they are welcome to it. I’ll be glad when we’re gone from here.”
“As will I. But we’re not marching on Mutsu just yet.”
As the fire grew, I fancied I could feel the flames of hell on my skin, and there was a smell like burning feathers. “Kenji-san, do you have a spare set of prayer beads?”
Kenji looked at me. “Do you even know how to pray?”
“It has been a very long time, but I think I can remember.”
Rie had shown me once. How to count the beads, what the number of them meant. I watched the two nuns work through their prayers with practiced ease. Kenji just shrugged. “Use mine. I’m through with them for the moment.”
He handed me the necklace of large wooden beads that he wore, so thick and uncouth-looking compared to the delicate malas in use by the women, but they did make a satisfying click! as I snapped each bead into place, one after the other. I prayed for the fallen. I prayed for Mai. I prayed for my sister and Tomoko-ana, and Lord Yoshiie and Kenji. I did not pray for myself, with two exceptions—I prayed I was right, and I prayed I was wrong.
I leave that in your hands. Whatever Buddhas or gods might be listening will just have to sort this out for yourselves.
When the prayers were ended and the pyres were burning down to ash, I returned the beads to Kenji. Neither Tomoko nor Lady Rie protested when I had guards escort them back to the nunnery, nor had I really expected them to, since I was no longer insisting they leave the compound, though Rie could not resist needling me a little.
“Honestly, brother, if something within the nunnery wished us harm, would we not already be dead?”
I knew this was not necessarily the case, since the situation within Yahiko-ji had finally taught me common sense was not giving me the solution I needed. Regardless, and since both Tomoko-ana and my sister were to be honored guests at the feast, the guards’ simple task was to remain close but outside their quarters, and then escort them again to the feast when the time had come.
“How long before the rededication ceremony is concluded?” I asked Kenji.
“The new abbot likes to hear himself talk, so it will take a little while. Why?”
“Because we need to use this time to make ourselves a bit more presentable. We’re going to request a private audience with Lord Yoshiie.”
“Very well, but would you mind telling me why we are doing this?”
I glanced back at the funeral pyre. “For the only reason that matters now—to save Lord Yoshiie’s life and so fulfill our sworn oath. At whatever the cost.”
The main lecture hall at Yahiko temple had a different look that evening—the stone lanterns were all lit, and extra lanterns were hung from the trees and on twine strung from the eaves of the verandas out to the first tree limbs. They glowed red and yellow and plum-colored. If I didn’t know otherwise I’d think it was matsuri time and I’d walked into a festival. The funeral rites for those murdered at Yahiko temple were not yet concluded and wouldn’t be until we were already in Dewa province, but this one exception to welcome the new Shibata abbot and prioress was, all agreed, appropriate for the occasion. Whereas quite often I felt as if I’d been in mourning for most of my life. The reminder that this was not necessarily our natural condition did little to lighten my mood.
The feast was well begun before Kenji found me alone on the veranda by the main entrance. “Your sister has been asking for you.”
“Please tell her I’ll be in soon—it’s almost time to begin. How are they arranged?”
“The new prioress is in the middle, just in front of the dais. Tomoko-ana on the left and Lady Rie on her right, from where you enter the hall. The new abbot will be seated on the dais, per protocol. You and I are to flank the dais, me on the left, and you on the right, plus the guards on either side of us. That was the seating Lord Yoshiie specified.”
“It is an honor to be allowed so close,” I said. “Let us do our best not to abuse his trust.”
Kenji went back inside, and I settled in to wait. I did not have to wait for very long. I heard the voices coming from the adjoining meditation hall where Lord Yoshiie had taken residence in our time at the temple. He was preceded by the abbot in full regalia, then Lord Muramasa, and the man I assumed to be the Echigo governor. It was hard to tell who was who, since they were all resplendent in full armor, with their menpo covering their faces and their maedate crests slicing the night wind. I bowed as they approached and then hurried to take my place on the right side of the dais, as instructed. Kenji was already kneeling on a cushion to the left. Lady Rie gave me a disapproving look for my late arrival, though the prioress and Tomoko-ana hardly looked at me. They were seated at a centrally placed low table no more than a bow’s length from the dais itself, as testament to the honor they were being afforded this night. The rest of the tables were further away, now filled with Minamoto and Shibata bushi, other priests, and a rather uncomfortable group I took to be the headman of Yahiko village and his guests. I turned my attention back to the procession entering the lecture hall from one of the side entrances, which placed them behind a line of bushi as they approached the dais from the left.
Since they were in armor, their campstools had been set on the dais, except for the abbot, who had a fine silk cushion awaiting him. We all touched our foreheads to the floor as the lords took their places on the dais.
Lord Muramasa rose then. He had his war-fan in his hands and waved it once like a baton over the assembly. “Lord Yoshiie has requested the honor of proposing a toast to the fallen but especially to those who are with us tonight, joined by our cousin prioress of Shibata.”
The pages and other servers were already quickly moving through the assembly, filling their cups. One of them brought a clay pitcher and set it before me.
“Lord Yoshiie, with your permission?” I asked.
The central figure nodded slightly, and I quickly moved to place three saucer-like cups in front of Tomoko-ana, the new prioress, and my sister. Kenji himself presented saucers to the lords on the dais. As one they raised them to their lips and drank, and Tomoko-ana and the prioress quickly followed their example.
“Brother, what is the meaning of this? You know I cannot drink rice wine,” Rie said, her voice a harsh whisper.
“Nor do I expect you to, nor either of your companions. This is nothing but pure water. Drink it.”
Rie just stared at her saucer as if she could not quite comprehend what she was seeing. “I-I cannot.”
I think, perhaps, I had held on to just a sliver of hope, right up until that moment. “Sister,” I said, “I really must insist.”
What happ
ened next happened in almost less than an instant. Rie shot to her feet, sending the table flying. In one step she was across it, a formerly concealed dagger in her hand, racing toward Lord Yoshiie. Despite the fact I was ready for her, she almost made it, but I threw myself at her from the side and managed to bring her down. I felt a hot sting in my arm as she slashed with the dagger. I did my best to trap it, but with her flailing sleeves and non-human speed I couldn’t even see it. She struggled to her feet, despite my best efforts, to be greeted by a ring of bushi, who, fortunately, had remembered their orders and kept their swords sheathed. She hesitated, and I used the chance to seize her wrist and twist her arm behind her back. It took all my strength to hold her.
“Take her,” I shouted, and the ring of bushi closed in. By then the rest of the company were on their feet, and many had their daggers drawn, though only the guards had been allowed to bear swords in the hall itself.
“Sheathe all weapons,” Lord Yoshiie commanded. The real Lord Yoshiie, who appeared now at the main doorway. The man on the dais removed his face guard to reveal himself as the man we had chosen to play the part, a Minamoto bushi of a similar height and build to Lord Yoshiie. A very brave man whose bravery, thanks to my clumsiness, had almost cost him his life.
“We have her, Lord Yoshiie,” Akimasa announced, as Rie was tied with ropes that even she, in her altered state, could not break. “What are your orders?”
Lord Yoshiie stared at me. “Lord Yamada, are you certain about this?”
“Yes, my lord. We need her alive and unharmed. For now.”
Lord Yoshiie grunted. “Take her away.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
The feast, as one might expect, ended rather abruptly. Now Kenji and I kneeled inside the mediation hall while Lord Yoshiie paced. Lord Muramasa and the Echigo governor, whose name I had finally learned was Mitsutaka, sat on stools nearby studying Kenji and myself as if we were some strange creatures that had never seen the light of day before. My arm was bandaged where the creature which was now my sister had slashed it. The wound wasn’t deep.
Yamada Monogatari: The War God's Son Page 20