by Paul Kidd
Sura gave a satisfied sigh.
“It’s a gift!”
Sura had a sudden happy thought. She sat up, clapping her hands and rubbing them together. The fox rose and walked over to some pots and pans she had thoughtfully left chilling in the stream. Pulling the pots up out of the stream she came walking over to the others, setting everything down in easy reach.
“Lunch is ready!”
The fox happily unveiled the content of the pots.
There were rice balls – or vaguely ball shaped things made from slightly burned rice, all spiced with herbs and weeds.
A second pot held long twigs – with bark still on – that had been threaded through some mushrooms, toadstools, snails, beetles – and what might have been squirrel meat. The kebabs had been thoroughly burned. Sura happily shook some of Chiri’s pepper mix over the meal. “Here we go!”
Everyone stared at the food, faces frozen. Tonbo cleared his throat.
“Did you cook it?”
“Sure! My specialty – dead thing on a stick!”
Kuno sniffed, then brushed at his sleeves.
“Don’t priests take some sort of oath against eating meat or killing things?”
Sura waved one hand. “I’ll have you know that I have taken a solemn oath never to harm another living creature – unless it is either tasty or annoying.” She happily crunched a chunk of squirrel between her teeth. “Kampai!”
Kuno picked up a kebab, then set it very firmly aside. He glanced loftily over at the fox.
“A priestess should be more Buddhist in her sensibilities.”
“Buddhist? Why should I give a fig about Buddhists? Tao of the fox!” Sura waved towards Tonbo. “Tonbo?”
The big samurai helped himself to a rice ball. “She’s a Zhuan-Zian crypto Taoist with occasional outbreaks of Mohism…”
The fox waved her bright orange fox tail.
“You forgot the tail.”
Tonbo made an easy gesture. “…with the world’s cutest tail.”
Sura gave a nod. “It’s a very specific and important calling!
Tonbo retrieved the best of the squirrel pieces and stoically ate. Sura tucked into a kebab – once Tonbo had removed the ones that contained the more dubious fungus. They headed over to the stream to sit and eat, paddling their bare feet in the water.
Behind them, Chiri surreptitiously drew some beautifully made rice balls out of her sleeve. She gave half to Kuno, and they sat near the others to eat.
The day was hot, but the breeze cooled as it came across the stream. The bamboo threw dappled shadows all across the banks. Sura finished eating half a squirrel, and tossed away the bones. She lounged back, arms folded behind her head.
“Aaah, summertime! Food, friends, cicadas, and a nice old rock to lie on.” The fox gave a beautifully happy sigh. “What could possibly go wrong?”
Tonbo, Kuno and Chiri all turned and looked levelly ay the fox. Sura noticed their gaze and blinked at them in confusion.
“What?”
Tonbo gave a growl.
“I wish you wouldn’t say that.”
The fox shrugged and went back to enjoying her afternoon. The cicadas sang, the bamboo sighed, and all seemed well with the world.
Far back in the woods, a dark shadow roiled slowly back into the deeps. Chiri looked briefly up – but nothing alarming was in sight. The rat combed her whiskers, nestled back down amongst the rocks, and enjoyed a well-earned lunch.
The night brought still airs and stifling, endless heat. Low clouds shut off all view of the stars. In the ruins near the bamboo groves, the air clung thick as porridge all across the ground.
The first grey, pre-dawn light touched against the hills. Within old temple ruins, dark shadows of the gate and walls finally stood out as shapes against the forest. A few birds stirred far off in the trees, but otherwise the land seemed still and silent.
Sura lay in her bed in fox form, turning restlessly this way and that in the heat. She murmured in her sleep, flexing her fine black paws. Scattered around her bedroll were the remains of an ill-advised midnight feast of honey biscuits, nuts and plum wine.
Dressed in his tough hemp arming robe, Tonbo came walking through the campsite. He knelt down and carefully slid his hands beneath Sura. He lifted up the fox, and carried her gently out into the open air. She curled into a ball, nose-to-tail, smiling and nuzzling as she finally felt some breeze against her fur.
Tonbo walked out to the stream. Holding the sleeping fox in both hands, he dipped her into cold water then deposited her on the bank. The fox awoke in a great churning, sputtering thrash, looking about herself in shock.
Tonbo shook his hands dry.
“Madam’s wake-up call.”
Dripping wet and damned annoyed, Sura glared up through bleary eyes.
“You do know there’s a reason why I handle all public relations for this team, don’t you?”
She took her revenge by shaking herself dry and deluging the man with water. Tonbo took it all in his stride. He walked amiably back to camp, where the campfire was going and breakfast preparations were firmly in Chiri’s hands.
Kuno looked up from tying on his sandals.
“She’s up?”
“Oh pfffffft!” The fox made a rude noise with her tongue. She inserted herself into her clothing, which had been all laid out the night before. There was a shimmer, a great ripple, and Sura expanded out into human form, wriggling about to make her belts and clothing fit properly into place. She sat up, rolled her head about to crick her neck then looked over to the cooking fire.
“Oooh! Pancakes!”
Chiri had made thick cabbage pancakes smothered with green onions, miso and dried bonito flakes. She had also made Sura’s favourite rice milk, chilling it in the stream overnight. It all smelled utterly delicious. The Spirit Hunters sat together and fortified themselves for a long march in the dark of morning.
Life on the open road!
The heat finally seemed to have faded, and a cool breeze came with the first grey light in the skies. Sura shucked on her little breastplate, tied back her long hair, and slung a broad straw hat upon her back. She then helped Chiri with her backpack, setting Daitanishi up on the top of the pack where the rock could grumble and get more sleep. Picking up her spear, she walked out of the ruins to join Tonbo. Together they looked off to the east, where full sunrise was still an hour or more away. Chiri and Kuno stood by the path, waiting for the day’s march to begin. Settling their weapons in place, the adventurers took a final look about the campsite to make certain nothing had been left behind, then walked downhill towards the valley road.
The air suddenly turned chill. Sura’s tail hair stood up on end. The entire group turned, and suddenly stepped back, hands going to their weapons. Chiri’s elementals took off in shock, hovering protectively above her.
A great, formless mist had blown out from the edges of the bamboo forest. The mist ebbed and shimmered, suddenly whipping forward and into the abandoned campsite. It came to a halt, and drifted with deep, dark colours filled with sadness.
A terrible wave of emotion swept into Sura. Pain – loss – regret – absolute sorrow. The fox staggered – lost and dazed. She saw Kuno almost drop his sword. Chiri wept. Tonbo moved forward with his face a grey mirror of sorrow and pain.
The flood of emotion surged, then suddenly vanished.
Sura fell to her knees, one hand against her chest. She sagged – almost hollowed out by the terrible sorrow that had radiated from the cloud. The other Spirit Hunters could only stand and stare after the vanished mist, utterly numbed.
Long moments later, Kuno finally spoke. His voice was hoarse with emotion.
“What was that?” He looked to Sura. “What was that?”
The fox stared towards the forest. The mist had swirled away, flowing west along the valley.
“I don’t know.”
Chiri wiped the tears back from her face, her hands visibly shaking.
“A spirit?�
�
“Not even that.” Sura slowly rose to her feet, looking to the west. “More like…. A feeling?”
“What did you feel, Sura san?”
“Injustice. Betrayal. Pride….”
Kuno stared off to the dark lands in the west. “Pain…”
Sura climbed onto a small outcrop of rock and looked off into the valley. Dawn was still far away. The thin grey light in the east left the trees and valleys dark and filled with deep blue shadows. The fox searched, listening to the breeze – trying to reach out with her soul – but the strange cloud had utterly disappeared.
Tonbo quietly climbed up and joined her. Sura kept searching the distant shadows.
“It wasn’t a proper spirit. It was unformed. Unfocussed…”
Tonbo nodded – full of concern. “Can we follow it?”
“It’s just…. Gone.”
Sura remained on the rock, searching – horribly torn and distressed. Tonbo tried to coax her down, but the fox climbed to another point on the rocks, staring westwards.
“It needs me.”
Tonbo held out his armoured hand to Sura.
“Come. We will travel. Perhaps we will find someone who can tell us more.” The big man took her grasp. “Come.”
The fox climbed down. Everyone turned to the west and hurried down the hill – down to the valley road below, on into the gloom.
They walked onward in attentive, troubled silence – ears pricked and eyes searching the shadows at either side of the road. Daitanishi and Bifuuko drifted along beside Chiri, keeping a careful guard.
The road led past farming hamlets only just starting to awaken – past isolated houses and samurai manors. Dawn came, spreading bright golden light across fields of rice and dark green vegetables. Horses stomped and whickered – oxen lowed. The first farmers began to emerge and gather up their tools, starting work in the cool of the morning. No one seemed to have been disturbed – there was no sign that the cloud had been sensed by animals or man. The Spirit Hunters steadily passed by the farms, moving on along the dusty valley road.
As the sun rose, heat stole back across the landscape with a vengeance. Cicadas whirred through the air, as big as eggs and glittering in the light. They began their drowsy song from high up in the trees, while the first traffic appeared on the paths below. Bamboo cutters, wood cutters and mounted samurai all came forth, most heading west while the air still held a breeze. Sura stopped to question a bamboo cutter, asking him whether he had been disturbed in the night. The man bobbed and bowed, and gave a firm ‘no’. He headed off about his work, moving swiftly away and up into the bamboo groves. Sura could only scowl, look thoughtfully at the surrounding farms, then walk onward down the road.
The fox remained terribly troubled – searching the hillsides as they walked, pushing the pace. Chiri stayed close beside her, letting Sura know that she was there. They moved onward for two long hours, while the sun drew hot scents from grass and earth. Chiri mopped her forehead beneath her straw hat, shading her pink eyes against the summer glare.
Somewhere deep into mid-morning, the dusty road led down towards a slow brown river. Trees shaded the stony banks, and a well-travelled road ran along beside the river. Tonbo halted near the marking post beside the river bank and consulted his maps. He laid the carefully painted sheets across his arm as the others gathered around him.
Tonbo tapped at a town painted upon the map.
“Here. The road heads half a ri north to the town of Harima, or there is a ford that leads to the forest road.”
Chiri looked at the river road, and nodded to Sura. “Shall we look at the town?”
The fox turned to the north. “Yes. Best place to pick up rumours about that cloud...” Sura rubbed at her nose. “Do we still have money?”
Tonbo weighed their communal money bag. It jingled.
“We have enough.”
Both Sura and Chiri lifted their heads and sniffed, smelling a sharp scent on the air. They searched about, then spied activity a little way upstream.
On the far side of the ford, a settlement of extremely poor, extremely clean houses were hidden away amongst the trees. Beneath several sheds, some men and women were working with limp hides of leather, throwing them over sloping beams and scraping the hides with fleshing knives. Others were forking freshly prepared skins and depositing them into tanning vats. Stocks of oak bark and acorns were being boiled in cauldrons to extract the tannin, ready to treat more hides.
Several of the leather workers were at the nearby river banks. Kuno utterly ignored them, but Sura waved happily. She called out across the splash and gurgle of the current.
“Good morning! Nice day!”
The leather workers bowed – slightly bemused by Sura’s robes and exotic appearance. One waved back, then moved swiftly back away from the river. Tonbo and Kuno walked upstream along the road towards town. Chiri hung back for a moment to look at the little settlement of tanners. Holding onto her straw hat, she hastened to catch up with Sura.
The rat looked back at the tanners, and leaned in to speak softly into Sura’s ear, not wanting her words to somehow carry across the entire river.
“Sura san! Who were they?”
“Eta. ‘Untouchables’. Starting to appear in some of the human fiefs.” The fox had a finely tuned sense of injustice. “Just ordinary poor folk pushed into doing the jobs no one else wants: tanners, butchers, grave diggers – that sort of thing. Stuff Buddhists all call ‘unclean’ - and then demand leather for their saddles and a nice neat grave for grandma…” The fox scowled, then shook off the mood. “But that’s not important. Eta! Good folks! Great source of rumours!”
Chiri felt immediately enlightened.
“Aaah! So you keep your doors open to them, since they are a good source of information?”
“Yeah, that, and it annoys Kuno.” The fox squared her shoulders. “Right! Come on – the boys are in ‘march mode’.”
Tonbo stood patiently waiting for the women to catch up. Kuno, however, had walked on, apparently keen to move away from the tannery. Sura and Chiri joined up with Tonbo. Together, they walked on along the riverside.
Kuno found a wooden notice board fixed to a pole beside the road. This declared the status of the town ahead – a charter negotiated between the town council of elders and the samurai clan who owned the lands about the town. Kuno stopped to read the sign, and then pondered the Raiden clan’s mon emblazoned at the top of the board. The man rested his hand atop his sword.
“This is Raiden clan territory. We must be careful. We are less than popular here.”
Tonbo gave a grunt of agreement, then looked at the surrounding forests.
“This is not their main fief. The new lord won’t be here.”
“Still – I counsel a low profile. It may even be prudent to withdraw.” Kuno turned and made a formal bow to Sura. “Priestess – what are your wishes?”
Sura turned to carefully examine the dark bamboo, the trees beside the river, and the tangled brush just beyond. There was no sense of foreboding - no sign of the strange, formless cloud. Cicadas were singing – birds and butterflies flew, completely undisturbed.
“I think we must investigate.” The fox faced north. Despite the heat, a chill still clung against her soul. “There is something here. Something that needs to be done…”
Kuno bowed. He fell in beside Sura, hand on his sword, escorting her as she passed the message board and marched towards the town.
The road ahead rose to climb over a rocky promontory. From somewhere just beyond, there were faint sounds of an excited, happy crowd. Kuno frowned – then suddenly seized Sura and hauled her off the road.
Three mounted samurai came galloping past the Spirit Hunters from behind, whooping and racing their horses neck and neck. The men recklessly sped up and over the rise, waving excitedly to someone beyond. Chiri climbed out of the roadside ditch and dusted at her clothes – then stared as she saw two more men come running down a nearby hill, skiddin
g as they came onto the road. They waved to the Spirit Hunters, beckoning them eagerly to follow, then ran off out of sight along the trail.
The four companions looked at one another in confusion. The crowd on the other side of the hill was clearly in a festive mood. There were shouts and splashes, and endless hoots of laughter. The four friends curiously moved forward, up and over the rise.
The river just below had fanned out into broad, stony shallows. A great crowd of samurai were at the river banks, all plunging into the water and fetching fist-sized stones out of the water. They filled bags, buckets and baskets with stones, eagerly welcoming newcomers into the water. Raiden clan banners flew from the shores, and a Buddhist monk was chanting raucously above the cheers and babble of the crowd. At least fifty men were gathering stones, while armed retainers cheered them on from the edges of the road.
The mounted samurai were leaping from their horses and plunging into the water, calling out greetings to other men as they hunted for rocks. The two young samurai who had greeted the Spirit Hunters on the road had waited for them. The samurai bobbed bows to Kuno and Tonbo, eager to lead them down into the shallows.
“Are you lost, friends? The ceremony is this way! This way!” One of the samurai was shorter and more rotund that the other. He gestured towards the river. “Here! The river rocks are best!”