“Yes, my lord. I will not fail you.”
I did not like to see the fear I placed in Taro’s eyes, but better some fear now than death later, and I already had enough to answer for. I went looking for Kenji, whom I found studying a scroll in the main lecture hall. He didn’t even bother to look up as I approached.
“I had always suspected the copy of the Diamond Sutra I had studied on Mount Oe was imperfect. Some of the passages did not appear to be in their correct sequences. This is a far older manuscript, in worse condition but far better order. No wonder my talisman against nightmare goblins had never worked right. Sometimes it even manages to summon the little buggers.”
“Good. I’ll probably require a working talisman sooner rather than later.”
Kenji carefully re-rolled the scroll and placed it back in its ornate cover. “You are not alone. We depart tomorrow for Dewa. Lord Yoshiie received messengers from both the governor and his father early this morning.”
I took it upon myself to scout our path from the temple complex to the north road leading to Dewa, with Kenji for reluctant company, even though I knew Lord Yoshiie’s scouts were scouring the countryside daily. Apparently the Minamoto archers had taken my advice to heart. There wasn’t a crow to be seen and very few birds of any kind.
“The crows will know to avoid the road. I hope the other birds have as much sense.”
“Do you detect anything?”
“Nothing. Not so much as a flea-demon.”
“How about when you were near my sister’s shikigami earlier?” I asked.
“I had intended to mention that, Lord Yamada—also nothing. Even knowing what I know now . . . nothing at all, save for your sister’s living spirit. It is quite strong, even now. I confess myself at a loss at this point—I react to her as I would react to any human. She sets off no alarms, raises no questions, suggests nothing masked or hidden. Lady Kuzunoha or one of her ilk, on the other hand, I would notice in a second.”
“I should hope so. Lady Kuzunoha knows what she is and takes pride in it. She only humors us by wearing the form of a mortal woman now and again. That she fell in love with a human she considers her great misfortune, but she doesn’t deny it happened.”
Kenji said, “I consider it her misfortune to be what she is, as it is so much harder for a demon to achieve enlightenment. Regardless, my point is any normal spirit activity in this place is something I would recognize in a heartbeat. There is none.”
“But wouldn’t you expect some?” I asked. “It’s not as if such things are uncommon.”
“Lord Yamada, you know very well Lord Yoshiie has protectors besides ourselves looking out for his welfare, and not all of his scouts are simple bushi. If there’s so much as a kappa between here and the Dewa barrier, I will be amazed. He is, as you well know, a fast learner.”
“Likely the only reason he’s still alive, our own efforts not to the contrary. I move we go back to our quarters and rest. Tomorrow promises to be a busy day.”
The army departed Yahiko-ji early the next morning. Rie was securely confined within her cart, managed by Taro. I was riding Shiroirei, and Kenji was on Neko. I had to admit it was harder to think of the animals as simply brute beasts now that I knew their names. There was a magic in names, or perhaps they reflected what lay within. Artists seldom worked under the names they were born with, and often a man’s name might be changed upon coming of age, or a woman would adopt a use-name as the women of Court did, so their birth names would not be known, sometimes even to their closest associates. Lady Rie had considered such things frivolous even before taking the tonsure, and had not followed the custom of adopting a new name for her new status. She was always Rie, and yet Lord Tenshin had taken this from her. Rie was no longer Rie, or at least not completely herself, and now never would be again. I considered this alone was crime enough to merit the most severe punishment, without even considering the massacre and desecration brought to that holy place.
As the column rode away, I noticed a large contingent, possibly several hundred, Shibata Clan archers separated from the column and gathered to the side. They watched us ride out, impassive.
“Has something gone wrong with the alliance?” I asked Kenji. “Have you heard anything?”
“No. Perhaps Lord Yoshiie left them here to watch the Mutsu barrier in case a force tries to flank us from there.”
“Perhaps,” I said. I glanced at Lord Yoshiie, who did not seem to be in the mood for questions or to take any notice of the apparent defection. I shrugged and let the matter drop.
We crossed the Dewa barrier the next afternoon and were immediately joined by a mounted contingent from the Kiyohara Clan, led by the clan chief’s younger brother. They held a brief conference with Lord Yoshiie, still on horseback. What I could hear of it involved the numbers of bushi that Yoriyoshi had mustered at the provincial capital for the march on the Abe. Yoshiie apparently found the information satisfying—I heard him grunt approval. We were, by all indications, in extremely friendly territory, but I couldn’t forget the same had allegedly applied when we were ambushed at Yahiko-ji. Yet despite any concerns I might have had, within a few days the combined army was safely encamped within a few leagues of the Kiyohara stronghold. Kenji and I were careful to—discretely—examine Lord Yoshiie’s quarters within the stronghold itself and as much as we could inspect of the immediate surroundings, but we found nothing of concern.
“Strange,” I said.
Kenji didn’t bother to ask what I meant. “Strange? I say rather a pleasant change. It’s not as if the area has been purged of all supernatural influences. I’ve detected two moth demons and a ghost, but it is my considered opinion all are harmless.”
“No shikigami.” I said.
“Well, not now. I am told there were a few rooted out in the last month, but nothing since.”
The Kiyohara themselves had gained first-hand knowledge of the existence of shikigami and had taken appropriate measures. Yet all they had found had been of the low quality sort, no more than a step or two above the crude mamushi that had tried to poison Mai. All it took was an awareness of what to look for to spot them. Yet if there were any more like Rie . . .
“There won’t be any more Ries to be found, will there?” I said. I’m not certain if I was really speaking to Kenji or not, but he heard me.
“Lord Tenshin certainly isn’t capable of creating more. And even if he had passed on the technique to any other onmyoji in Lord Sadato’s employ, they have his example to make them reconsider.”
“I know enough of Lord Tenshin to doubt he would share such a powerful technique with anyone,” I said. “Despite its drawbacks.”
“I agree. I merely point out it probably wouldn’t make any difference if he had done so.”
I didn’t argue, for I had come to the same conclusion. I still considered it likely we would face at least some of the creatures when the attacks came in earnest, but another nearly perfect assassin like Rie? No. Especially considering it was easy enough to find a human assassin to make the attempt, and engaging such would be far less subject to unpleasant repercussions, except for the assassin. Knowing what I did of Lord Yoshiie’s personal guard, I wouldn’t have bet a bowl of bad rice on an assassin’s chances. The failed ambush at Yahiko-ji and the unsuccessful attempt by the Rie-creature each represented a special opportunity for Lord Sadato and Lord Tenshin. Now those opportunities were gone. No, Lord Yoshiie’s greatest threat now came from the thousands of Abe Clan bushi who would be quite openly and honorably and, yes, enthusiastically trying to kill him. A man who could bring Lord Yoshiie’s head to Abe no Sadato could doubtless name his own reward.
Yet, despite all this, I still expected the Abe to try to assassinate Yoshiie, because they simply had too much to gain by doing so and not a great deal to lose. Thus I could not understand why there was no sign, none at all, of any such attempt. I said as much to Kenji.
Kenji looked thoughtful. “You’re right. It does seem a little stran
ge. Perhaps they’ve done their worst,” he said.
“What if they have? That doesn’t mean they wouldn’t try again. Lord Sadato has enough spies and scouts of his own. He must know what he is now up against. Desperate measures, I would think, would be in order. Yet they don’t appear to be in process. Does he know something we do not know?”
Kenji took a long breath and let it out. “Perhaps he does. But what if the thing he knows has nothing to do with Lord Yoshiie’s desired demise?”
“I don’t understand,” I said.
“We’ve assumed to this point Lord Sadato had sought out onmyoji on an unprecedented scale to attack his enemy or rather his main threat—Lord Yoshiie. What if it was Lord Tenshin who, acting as a mercenary, presented the idea to Lord Sadato who, perhaps in a moment of desperation as you described, consented. And then there was Yahiko-ji.”
“You’re saying Lord Sadato did not approve the attack?” I asked.
“The plan speaks far more of Lord Tenshin that Lord Sadato. I’m saying it’s unlikely he would have done so if he’d known all of what Lord Tenshin had in mind. If Yoshiie had fallen at the temple, the massacre would have simply been a detail, and who was to say the Minamoto did not slaughter the priests and nuns themselves out of revenge? If the plan had worked—”
“Yes, but it didn’t.”
“And Lord Sadato was left with the knowledge—and there’s no chance he doesn’t know now, if he didn’t before—that an agent acting on his behalf slaughtered dozens of clerics and nuns? What if you, an honorable man, discovered what horror had been committed in your name? What would you do then?” Kenji asked.
“I’d punish those responsible severely, but we know Lord Tenshin is still alive.”
“ ‘Severely’ doesn’t rule out confining such people while you dealt with more immediate matters, say, an invasion,” Kenji said.
“Which Lord Sadato will fight on his home territory, from fortified positions, but you might be right about the onmyoji. Lord Tenshin, bless the man, quite likely has proven to Lord Sadato that the magicians, Tenshin especially included, cannot be trusted.”
“I believe this to be so, but I don’t think there’s any way to be certain,” Kenji said.
“Actually, there might be a way. I will show you, but first you have to swear to me that you will tell no one. I mean this, Kenji-san. You cannot reveal what you will see or hear to anyone.”
“Very well, I do so swear. Now, what is this mysterious thing?”
“Not a thing, Kenji-san. A man.”
“I had expected you to come,” Lord Yasuna said. “Sooner or later. How is my execution to be carried out?”
Lord Yasuna was still technically a prisoner, but an honored one. Not only did he have spacious quarters within the Kiyohara stronghold, but he was attended by servants from our hosts’ personal household. I was, naturally, careful to dismiss them to a discreet distance upon our arrival.
Kenji just stared. “Execution?”
“Lord Yasuna is referring to my understanding it was he who was passing very specific information about Lord Yoshiie’s plans to the Abe Clan, using the shikigami cleverly disguised as crows,” I said. “We did know our movements were being monitored, but clearly Lord Tenshin needed more information than that to plan the temple attack. He had to know Lord Yoshiie planned to visit there. Unless there’s some other offense against the Emperor’s writ I am unaware of?”
“That’s more than enough,” Lord Yasuna said.
“Especially when you add that he also told Lord Tenshin about my sister. You did, didn’t you? It had to be someone in contact with the Abe who knew my sister was cloistered here. You were the only one who met both conditions.”
“Yes, Lord Yamada, but I swear—”
“Please don’t,” I said.
“You mean, it’s true?” Kenji asked.
“It is,” Lord Yasuna said. “Much to my shame.”
“But . . . why?” Kenji asked.
“Lord Yasuna is the only one who can answer that in full, but my guess is the Court branch and the provincial branches of his family were in closer association than any of us guessed.”
“Also true,” Lord Yasuna said. “I had fostered Lord Sadato’s nephew for some years—he wanted the boy to become accustomed to the ways of Court life. I’m afraid I grew rather fond of him in the time he was with me. I did not wish to see his family brought to ruin. In my foolishness, I have ruined my own.”
“Your sister . . . the temple at Yahiko-ji . . . ? Lord Yamada, why is this man still alive?” Kenji asked.
“Because he has been foolish, but it is Lord Tenshin who bears the responsibility for what happened both to Yahiko-ji and my sister, not Lord Yasuna. He did not know and likely never imagined what Lord Tenshin had planned. That is why he has been so despondent. I know this to be true.”
“How do you know that?” Kenji asked.
“Because it was Lord Yasuna who brought the crows to my attention, and thus, himself as well. I had suspected they were there because of all the death, but I had noticed how some of them seemed to be following us. Lord Yasuna mentioned it as well, which led me to speculate, which led me to testing Akimasa-san’s archer. The only reason I can think of for such an action was that he regretted any part he may have played in the murders. So we have him to thank that the worst of the spying was ended, if for nothing else.”
“I couldn’t believe it,” Lord Yasuna said. “I was naïve not to think I was endangering Lord Yoshiie directly, but the slaughter . . . Lady Rie. For that I deserve to die.”
“I agree,” Kenji said.
“Whether you agree or not, you are sworn to silence, and I will hold you to your oath,” I said.
“Lord Yamada, you cannot—” Kenji looked me in the eye then, and he didn’t bother to finish. “All right, I’ve sworn. But what do we do about this?”
“We don’t do anything about this. My lord, you will need to come to terms with your guilt on your own, but I would advise against self-destruction. If you kill yourself, I will inform Lord Yoshiie of your involvement, and that will be the end of the court Abe and the ruin of your son’s future.”
“I had reconciled myself already to the destruction of my family,” Lord Yasuna said, but I could clearly see an echo of hope on the man’s face. It wasn’t much, but it was something I could use.
“You can spare yourself that, if you choose, for your son’s sake if not your own, but do not think for an instant I am bluffing. As I said before, one can only atone while one is living. That is what I expect from you. I think you should expect it of yourself.”
“I-I will consider what you have said.”
“Then I will keep my silence. Come, Kenji-san. We have other matters to attend.”
Kenji waited until we were well away from Lord Yasuna’s quarters and any possibility of being overheard before he spoke again.
“If Lord Yoshiie finds out about this—”
“He is not going to, nor does he need to do so. Lord Yasuna is not a man to repeat a mistake. And before you ask . . . I have my reasons.”
“Lady Kuzunoha,” Kenji said. He wasn’t asking a question.
“Think what you want. Our priority is Lord Yoshiie. If I can best honor Prince Kanemore’s trust in me—and us—by allowing a traitor to live, then that is what I will do.”
“You’re not the only one in need of revenge, Lord Yamada,” Kenji said.
“Then focus your rage where it should be focused, Kenji-san, and that is not Lord Yasuna. Your anger rightly belongs in the same place as my own.”
“I will consider what you have said,” Kenji replied, echoing Lord Yasuna. “If you leave me any part of Lord Tenshin still capable of feeling pain. Now then—what are these ‘other matters’ we need to attend?”
“Actually, that’s mostly for me. I’m going to visit my sister.”
“Do you want me to come along?” Kenji asked.
“Thank you, but no. This time it is something I nee
d to do alone.”
I found Taro at his post guarding my sister’s prison, and I offered to relieve him for a while. He gratefully turned the matter over to me, and no sooner than I was alone with her, Rie spoke to me.
“You shouldn’t have come,” she said. Since she was still, at least in part, my sister Rie, it was the sort of thing I expected her to say.
“Would it be better if I stayed away and simply imagined your suffering?” I asked.
There was one small window cut into the front of the cart. It was barred with iron strapping, but I could see her pale face in the gloom. “That’s just the problem—I am not suffering. I am sealed into this hot, airless conveyance, no food, no water, no place to . . . to relieve myself, and yet . . . ” Her voice trailed away.
“And yet you are not hot, nor hungry, nor thirsty, and you have no need to relieve yourself. Even after three days.”
“I don’t think I really believed it, but it’s true, isn’t it?” she asked. “My memory of dying. My memories of what I was made to do. I’m not alive, am I?”
“No. At least, not in the way you once were.”
“Will I have to remain like this?” Rie asked.
“For now, yes—I hope it will not be for much longer.”
Rie looked away into the darkness. “When the time comes, will you be the one to destroy me?”
“I will destroy the one who made your false body and trapped your soul within it. When that happens, you will be released.”
“In telling me this, haven’t you also told him . . . the one I feel connected to me?”
“Yes. I want him to know.”
“Ah. I think I do understand now,” Rie said.
I frowned. “What do you understand now, sister?”
“Why you come to see me, even though I know it grieves you. You come because it grieves you. Because it reminds you of why you will seek revenge for me. Brother, the part of me that is still Rie does not want this.”
Yamada Monogatari: The War God's Son Page 23