Issue #79, Third Anniversary Double-Issue • Oct. 7, 2011
“The Tiger’s Turn,” by Richard Parks
“The Calendar of Saints,” by Kat Howard
“A Spoonful of Salt,” by Nicole M. Taylor
“The Judge’s Right Hand,” by J.S. Bangs
For more stories and Audio Fiction Podcasts, visit
http://beneath-ceaseless-skies.com/
THE TIGER’S TURN
by Richard Parks
Kenji found me reading in my newly cleaned yet persistently shabby quarters. When I continued to read even after he’d grunted a greeting and seated himself on my threadbare second-best cushion, he began to frown.
“Lord Yamada, I know for a fact that you’re not illiterate. Are you having trouble reading that letter, or are you perhaps lingering over a lady’s love poem?”
I shrugged. “Since Prince Kanemore is even less feminine than you are, we can eliminate the second option. Nor am I having difficulty; I’ve managed to read it at least three times since you’ve arrived. I know what this document says, Kenji-san. My problem is that I have no idea what it means.” I held up the paper. “This is an Imperial Commission. I’ve been awarded the income of a rather prosperous estate near Mount Hiei.”
Kenji’s frown disappeared. “An estate? But that’s wonderful!”
On the face of the matter I had to agree. While the land technically belonged to the Imperial Family, I had been assigned the position of steward, which gave me control of all the fruits of its production except for a modest percentage that was reserved for the royal coffers. Since the estate in question produced both rice and woven hemp in significant amounts, the steward’s portion amounted to quite a handsome income. Even better, it was common practice for stewards to appoint a deputy to handle the actual day-to-day running of the estate; in theory I could remain in the Capital and never set foot on the place.
I sighed. “One would certainly think so.”
Kenji rubbed the stubble on his head and turned his gaze toward Heaven. “Lord Yamada, as a priest of the Eightfold Path, I recognize that this material world is mere illusion. Yet some illusions are better than others, and there’s nothing wrong with a little security for your declining years. Aren’t you tired of being poor?”
“Security is the greatest illusion of all. As for my poverty, it was more of a problem when I was drinking. Don’t mistake me—I am not ungrateful, Kenji-san. I am merely puzzled.”
“Prince Kanemore is your friend. Why would he not want to help you?”
I shrugged. “He would and does. Yet his own estates are barely adequate for his needs, which, due to his position, are far greater than mine. More to the point, such prizes as this are reserved for those of high rank who have served the Court both openly and ostentatiously; I can be accused of neither. My good fortune simply makes no sense.”
Kenji frowned again. “As much as it pains me—I see your point. Perhaps you should ask the prince.”
“Easily arranged. The commission letter was accompanied by a summons. I have an audience with His Highness this afternoon. Oddly enough, so do you. That’s why I sent for you.” I showed him the text of the summons.
Kenji frowned again. “What would Prince Kanemore want with me?”
“I don’t know. But I’m certain that your summons is another piece of the puzzle.”
* * *
We entered the palace grounds through the east gate. The Minor Captain of the Guards was a young Fujiwara, maybe twenty years old, though Minamoto archers made up the bulk of the detachment. Our summons meant there was no difficulty about getting in, though the captain did look at us through narrowed eyes as we passed through the gate.
Not that I could blame him—Kenji and I made a disreputable-looking pair at the best of times, though we had both done our best to appear presentable. The green hunting coat I wore over my hitatare was tatty but clean, and Kenji had thrown a new surplice over his stained robes. I glanced back once to see the captain’s gaze still following us, and he quickly looked away. We were met near the gardens by a young page attired in blue who led us to Prince Kanemore’s quarters within one of several mansions reserved for the Imperial Family.
We were ushered into a formal audience hall, where Prince Kanemore sat on a raised dais by the rear wall. He was in his mid-thirties, strongly-built and handsome except for a scar on his left cheek. He looked a bit tired but in good health. His ornate tachi rested upright at his side on a black lacquered stand decorated with sprinkles of gold leaf. As a rule, an Imperial Prince didn’t keep his sword quite that close to hand, but then Kanemore wasn’t a typical prince. More warrior than courtier, palace life didn’t especially suit him. Yet he was the maternal uncle of the Crown Prince, and as such, his duty tied him to the Court until his nephew was safely on the throne.
Kenji and I kneeled and bowed formally, but Kanemore quickly dismissed his attendants and left the dais to join us on the floor cushions.
“It’s good to see you again, Prince,” I said.
“And you, my friend. Thank you both for answering my summons.”
There was no chance that we would do otherwise, but of course he knew that. He smiled a little wistfully. “I suppose you’re wondering about your commission.”
“I am grateful, of course, but I did find it a bit... strange, Highness.”
“No doubt. Now then, what do you know of a man named Fujiwara Yasunori?”
The name didn’t bring up any immediate associations, and I said as much.
“I’m not surprised. He was Minister of the Crown Prince’s Household in my father’s time. The estate in your commission was originally assigned to him. There was one odd thing, and much remarked upon at the time—rather than appoint a deputy, Yasunori chose to leave the Court and assume the office of steward himself, and he held it until his recent passing.”
That was indeed odd. When a noble gave up Court life willingly, it was usually to take holy orders. This person had instead decided to give up both Court and Capital to retire to a rural estate and, in essence, watch rice grow.
Kenji spoke up. “With respect, gentlemen, and to my own surprise, I may have some information on this matter.”
This was also a surprise to me, and apparently to Kanemore as well. “Go on,” he said.
“For a time after I was ordained, I served at Enryaku Temple on Mt. Hiei. One of the primary functions of any temple, of course, is to arrange and conduct funerals. Soon after I arrived, I was asked to oversee the rituals for Yasunori’s principal wife, Lady Michiko. There had been a plague in the Capital at that time and she succumbed. That was thirty years ago, which, if I am not mistaken, was shortly before Lord Yasunori left the Court. A coincidence, perhaps—if one believed in such things.”
“Grief?” I asked.
Kanemore looked thoughtful. “It’s possible. He never remarried. Regardless, after Yasunori’s passing, it was decided that the stewardship should pass to his nephew, Tadanobu. He of course appointed a deputy, but the man disappeared before he could take up his duties. In due course Tadanobu appointed a new deputy, who also disappeared. No trace of either man has been found. Tadanobu appointed a third, but this one didn’t disappear.”
Kenji and I exchanged glances. “I hesitate to ask,” I said.
“He was found by a farmer, lying beside the road near the valley’s entrance. He appeared to have been shot with hundreds of arrows, though no traces of any arrows remained.”
“Bandits?” Kenji asked.
“With the sohei, the warrior monks of Enryaku Temple, so close? None would dare. That road is safer than some
in the Capital, normally,” Kanemore said. “That is part of the... delicacy, of this matter.”
Prince Kanemore seemed hesitant, and that was not a condition I associated with him. I glanced around and made certain that no one else was within earshot before I spoke again. “You suspect the monks of Hieizan might be involved. Why?”
Kanemore looked grim. “The estate has no bushi of its own. If Tadanobu’s deputy was indeed killed by archers, the warrior monks of the temple were the only ones who could have done it. As to why, I would think that would be obvious—by removing Tadanobu’s deputies, they prevent him from assuming the stewardship.”
“Ah. They want the estate for themselves,” I said. “It must gall them to have such a rich prize so close and yet out of their reach. Even so, you know the character of the abbot as well as I do. This is not the sort of thing he would condone.”
Kenji spoke up. “Nor would he have to do so. In such a large organization as Enryaku-ji, it’s possible someone within the temple acted on their own initiative.”
Kanemore looked thoughtful. “It is also possible that the abbot has lost control of the situation. There has been open conflict between the temple and the Court several times in the past, and if Enryaku-ji’s military arm is on the move now, whatever the reason or catalyst, the implications are far more serious than the income of one estate. The Court may be headed for an open confrontation that, to be blunt, the Emperor is ill-prepared to face.”
I knew the truth of that. Most of the city’s guard and police were commanded by high-ranking gentlemen who looked on a military assignment as beneath them and its duties as inconveniences to be avoided. The true might of the Emperor was in the military families in the provinces, who could be mustered but this took time, nor could it be done without alerting the temple. Which, if it really was mobilizing, could prompt Enryaku-ji to strike immediately. Kanemore was right to be concerned, and with the safety of my friend and the Crown Prince both now at issue, so was I.
He continued, “Tadanobu was resolved to make the journey to the estate in person, and so his family asked that his commission be withdrawn so that he would not, for his own safety. That was when I thought of you.”
Kenji frowned. “Your pardon, Prince Kanemore, but are you trying to get Lord Yamada killed?”
“I fancy he’s trying to give me an opportunity,” I said. “And now this commission makes perfect sense. If I can unravel who is responsible for these deaths and disappearances and apprise the Court of the true situation, my reward is the estate income as specified, yes?”
Kanemore sighed. “Just so. This is a chance not likely to repeat, but it is also an obviously dangerous undertaking. You have the commission, but you also have the right to refuse. I will not think less of you if you do so.”
“And I will not weigh it against you if I die,” I said, and I smiled. “But you still haven’t explained why you summoned Kenji.”
The prince laughed. “I would have thought that obvious as well. It’s possible that no one at Enryaku-ji or the estate itself was responsible for the fate of the three deputy stewards. If they were not killed by bandits or sohei or angry farmers, then what killed them may be of a different nature. The manner of the third deputy’s death is especially troubling.”
“You mean some sort of monster or demon,” Kenji said.
“Yes, Priest. I do.”
Kenji bowed. “I’m not sure what reward you had in mind for me,” he said. “But with all due deference to your Highness, my price has just gone up.”
* * *
The journey from the Capital to the estate wasn’t an especially long one; Mt. Hiei itself was visible from the city, and while the estate wasn’t exactly adjacent to the mountain, the same road that passed the mountain did lead near to it. While the late summer heat was oppressive in the Capital, here in the mountains it was much more pleasant. Mt. Hiei loomed over us as Kenji and I stopped to rest and refresh ourselves at a traveler’s shelter at the foot of the mountain.
I looked up at the seemingly peaceful temple complex nestled on the slopes of the mountain. “Curious. I don’t hear anything.”
Kenji frowned. “What did you expect to hear?”
“Any significant force of either monks or secular bushi cannot be mustering on this mountain. You simply cannot put such a large group of men together in a relatively confined space without noise. We should hear the sound of sparring, shouts, arguments, something.”
“Then what killed Tadanobu’s deputy steward, if not sohei archers?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “But I’ve been thinking about that as well. If the temple was mustering, wouldn’t they have the sense to dispose of the deputy in a less obvious manner, as apparently happened to the first two? The man’s death appears almost calculated to draw attention, which the temple would certainly wish to avoid if they planned to make a show of force.”
“What you say may be true,” said Kenji, looking up toward the fortified monastery. “But it’s not what’s puzzling me.”
“Oh? Then what is?”
“That an estate so close to Mt. Hiei isn’t already part of the temple’s endowment. It’s the sort of thing they would normally receive as a gift from the Imperial Family after healing a sickness or offering effective prayers for the safe birth of an heir. Why would they need to resort to violence?”
“The stewardship belonged to the Fujiwara clan, Kenji-san. As much as the power of the temple concerns the Emperor, he wasn’t going to risk angering the Fujiwara by handing their estate to the monks of Mt. Hiei.”
Kenji sighed. “Do I have to point out that the Fujiwara are no longer an obstacle to the temple? Also, the temple has partisans and sympathizers everywhere. They will know your mission. If they are responsible for the disappearances, they will seek to do the same to us. If they are not, the monks will simply wait until you succeed in pacifying whatever is lurking along the road, and then proceed to make their petition the next time they’re up for reward. You are not a Fujiwara and your commission isn’t likely to deter them.”
I almost smiled. “Thank you.”
He frowned. “What for?”
“For reminding me of why I associate with you. You’re one of the few people I know who make me seem like a cheerful fellow by comparison.”
His face turned a little red. “I know how the temple works, Yamada-sama.”
So did I. While it was indeed a seat of piety and learning, Enryaku-ji was also interested in its position and status and, yes, power and influence at Court and with the other temples, which is why so many of them had taken up arms in the past. In other words, the monks remained men, no matter how much they sought to distance themselves from the world, and wealth was useful to any man. The monks of Enryaku-ji were no exception. But how far would they go to attain it?
“No doubt. Yet when crossing a dangerous bridge, it is best to keep one’s attention on the bridge and not worry about the tiger further along the road.”
Kenji looked grim. “And yet the tiger will have his turn.”
I also had no doubt that Kenji was correct, but there was no point worrying about it. At least, not yet.
When we left the shelter, it was early afternoon. Before mid-afternoon I was certain we were being shadowed, and I said as much.
Kenji scowled. “Sohei?”
“I think we’re going to find out. I would prefer that it be at a time and place of our own choosing.”
I did not get my wish. As I scanned the trees alongside the road ahead of us, looking for a good place for concealment, a group of four rather rough-looking fellows carrying cudgels stepped out from just such a place about forty paces in front of us. An equal number came trotting up the road behind us, apparently upon a pre-arranged signal. I saw a lone figure standing behind the second group, but after a moment he disappeared into the trees and did not join them. He was too far away for me to see his face, but I was almost certain he wasn’t a bandit.
Kenji scowled. “Kanemo
re did say that Yasunori’s household claimed that none of the deputy stewards ever arrived. Perhaps they were telling the truth.”
The same thought occurred to me. I didn’t draw my sword just then, but I kept my hand close to the hilt. “What is the meaning of this?” I called out to the closest group.
I wasn’t optimistic, and so it proved. The men were not inclined to conversation. The largest one, a thick-bodied man with bushy eyebrows, was acting as leader.
“Get them!”
I quickly drew my sword. Kenji had his priestly staff, which was thick and reinforced with bands of copper about the top and bottom, at the ready. Fortunately for us, the ambush group tried to rush us without waiting for their companions. I dodged one swing from the leader’s heavy club and then killed him while he was out of position. Kenji accounted for a second in like manner. I barely evaded a third, and then the next group of four reached us, and Kenji and I were hard-pressed. While Prince Kanemore could likely have handled a band of such unskilled ruffians on his own, neither Kenji nor I were at his level, and we were now two against six.
I cut down a second man, but then a glancing blow numbed my sword arm up to the elbow. I managed not to drop the blade, but all I was able to do then was swing it in broad strokes to keep my enemies at bay; I could not wield it effectively. Kenji moved to cover my back, and now we were in the center of a ring of men shouting for our blood. The feeling was slowly returning to my arm, along with the pain of the blow, but all we could do was guard. One of our attackers picked up a stone from the side of the road and hurled it at my head. I dodged it but then barely avoiding getting brained when one of his companions seized the opportunity to dart in while I was distracted. Both Kenji and I were breathing hard by this time.
A little more patience on their part, and they have us. I would have cursed myself for being so careless, if there had been any point.
The man reached for another stone and was about to fling it when he stopped, looking puzzled. After a moment and without any sound or fuss, he toppled face-first into the dirt of the road, a long arrow sprouting from his back.
Beneath Ceaseless Skies #79 Page 1