by Paul Kidd
The two men raced to the shallows and began swiftly filling a bag with fist-sized rocks, tossing aside any that were too light or oddly shaped.
There seemed to be an even larger crowd gathered out of sight, somewhere down the road. Sura could hear drums and conch horns blowing – cheers and all the noisy babble of a festival. Suddenly gongs began to boom, and the samurai down at the shallows immediately raced to shore. The men all charged off down the road, laughing and calling to one another, lugging heavy loads of stones. The monk and foot soldiers hastened after them, carrying Raiden banners fluttering in the air.
Sura watched in confused amazement, scratching at her ear.
“What on earth is going on?”
Chiri could only shrug. “A festival?”
Kuno stared after the Raiden clan samurai. “But with gongs? Trumpets? Uproar?”
Sura blinked. “Huh. It’s a rock festival!”
Everyone looked to Daitanishi. The rock elemental could only shrug – he seemed as confused as anybody else. Sura shrugged her backpack into place, and waved the others onward down the road.
“Come on! Let’s go see what’s up.”
The group jogged off down the path – hurrying to catch up with the crowd of Raiden samurai. Daitanishi hung back to take a last look at the river rocks, then sped off to follow in Chiri’s wake.
Chapter 2
A Buddhist temple stood in a notch between two craggy hills. Great crowds of Raiden clan samurai were hastening through the gates. Monks stood beside the entrance, eagerly collecting donations and ushering the samurai inside. Latecomers came running, often still dripping wet from collecting rocks at the river.
The Spirit Hunters watched the sight in confusion. Money was being thrown about below, and Raiden clan banners were everywhere. Sura led the way down to the temple, spear over shoulder and face wearing an expression of dawning suspicion. She moved in amongst the crowd of samurai, then waved her friends onwards towards the temple gates.
A monk saw the newcomers and ushered them forward. He bowed to the Spirit Hunters as they passed.
“Hurry please! Welcome, welcome. You are just in time! They are about to begin the abuse!”
Chiri blinked, thoroughly confused. She followed after her friends, elementals clinging tight against her as she threaded through the crowds.
Inside the temple compounds, armoured samurai were merrily greeting one another. Men were tossing money into an offering tray then ringing an offering bell. Sura skipped aside from a monk entreating her to donate. She manoeuvred forward, intent on seeing what was happening deeper within the gardens.
The crowd were all packed before a sturdy wooden wall sealed by a large, barred gate. The last arrivals crowded in at the rear. Sura, Chiri, Tonbo and Kuno found a vantage point atop some shrine steps at one side of the throng. They craned to see above the crowd and catch site of the ceremonies.
Monks struck wooden clappers together, while gongs and drums were beaten. Men waved the festival crowd to silence, as a Buddhist abbot strode forth. The round little abbot was splendidly attired in golden robes and a truly awful yellow hat. He waved a tasselled rod, then addressed the crowd in a voice that carried like a thunderclap.
“Loyal Samurai! Raiden retainers. Behold now the image of honour fallen! Behold now the image of honour betrayed! See now the image of treachery to clan and lord!”
The monks swung open the heavy gates, revealing a wide, walled yard. A statue of a samurai stood at the centre – a statue apparently cast from solid bronze.
The Raiden samurai immediately stampeded forward, flooding into the yard. They hurtled rocks and abuse at the statue. Stones flew thick as rain, making the bronze statue ring from time to time as it was struck. Monks helped the crowd fan out, keeping them behind ropes and well back from the statue. Those men who scored a hit were overjoyed, braying in triumph to the other samurai.
It was all absolute uproar – men cheering and shouting– stones flying wildly through the air. Sura was utterly mystified. She looked to Tonbo, who could only shrug. Kuno stood scowling, watching the entire affair with a stern look upon his face, and a hint of disapproval hardening in his eyes.
A monk saw their confusion, and came hastening to Sura’s side. The man gave a merry bow.
“Greetings travellers. I see you are in confusion!”
Kuno gave the man a measured, formal bow.
“Forgive us, but we are unaware of local customs.”
The monk had to shout to be heard above the din. “Indeed, honoured samurai. Perhaps I can provide enlightenment!”
The stone throwing crowd were quite deafening – their cheers of triumph and the roars of abuse showered on the statue, the ring of rocks on metal… Chiri had to cover her ears. They came down to listen to the monk, who seemed quite overjoyed with the noise and fury of the festival.
The monk pointed off towards the statue.
“This is the statue of a samurai who sold out all honour of his self, his family and clan, and all in the name of personal desire! We maintain an image of this creature. Samurai come here to revile the image, and thus reinforce their own devotion to the samurai ideals!” The monk waved an enthusiastic hand towards the crowd. “As you can see – it is a useful ceremony! The Raiden clan’s samurai redouble their zeal for duty!”
Tonbo and Kuno turned and looked woodenly at the crowd, very much disliking what they saw.
Sura watched in absolute distaste. The fox planted her spear, keeping her eyes upon the crowd.
“So who was this samurai they’re throwing rocks at? What did he do?”
The monk gave a careless shrug. “It was only twenty years ago, but no one remembers his name. His crime was so great, his very identity has been expunged!” The monk walked with the Spirit Hunters to a better vantage point. “But the samurai betrayed his duty. He engaged in an illicit love affair – one that he knew would bring shame to his entire clan if discovered. When the lord found out about the affair, he ordered the samurai to commit seppuku.”
The little monk carried a painted fan that he waved rapidly to cool himself. He shook his head as he recounted his tale, amazed at the iniquities of the world.
“Such was the lord’s contempt for the samurai that when it came time for the man to commit suicide, the lord sent him a wooden sword. This was a sign that he believed the samurai was too cowardly to actually slay himself. But the samurai used the wooden sword. He sliced it to a point, and committed suicide.”
Sura listened to the tale with a creeping sense of loathing. Chiri took her arm, feeling deep concern for her. Kuno and Tonbo were more stoic. They listened, frozen faced, as the monk went merrily on with his story.
The man looked out over the yard, filled with rock-flinging samurai. He spread his arms and puffed out with pride.
“But here! Is it not magnificent? This is the place! Here is the spot. He now serves as an example that we must never place personal desires before duty, lest we fall.”
Sura turned upon the monk with utter contempt, absolutely startling the man.
“Be gone from me.”
The fox swept towards the man in anger – tail swirling and green eyes aflame. Her power and fury struck at the man like a blow. The monk staggered backwards, and fled off into the shrine.
Sura glared at the stone throwing samurai. Their absolute disrespect for the dead, their denigration of a man’s pride and courage utterly sickened her. She tucked her spear beneath her arm.
The fox whirled to eye Kuno and Tonbo – who had been suspiciously quiet.
“You two! What do you two think of this?”
Kuno seemed unhappy. He bowed his shoulders, unwillingly accepting the judgement of the monks.
“This samurai betrayed his lord…”
The fox whirled, tail bristling.
“What? Over a love affair?” The fox gestured towards the battered statue in fury. “This man was courageous enough to actually kill himself with nothing but a wooden practice swor
d! What does that say about his samurai qualities?”
The fox stormed down the steps and straight towards the temple gates. Chiri froze, quite shocked at the fox’s anger.
“Sura! Sura san! Wait!”
Chiri cast an apologetic glance up at Kuno and Tonbo, bobbed them a bow, then raced after Sura. Her rock elemental sped along beside her, giving a last glare towards the rock throwing samurai. Kuno and Tonbo were left alone at the steps of the shrine, watching the ceremony through scowling eyes.
Tonbo observed the Raiden samurai as they hurtled their stones and abuse. He coldly disapproved of it all. The man turned his back on them, shouldered his mighty tetsubo, and headed towards the temple gate.
“Come. We must get after her.”
Kuno nodded. Nothing good could come of such a ceremony. The Raiden dishonoured themselves with such behaviour. Kuno settled his swords in his belt, then turned to walk after Tonbo, following the huge man back towards the road.
The monk watched them go. He raced to find the abbot, who stood blessing Raiden samurai who were purchasing good luck charms and filling the temple coffers with donations. The monk murmured urgently into the abbot’s ear. Both men turned and looked back towards the temple gate. Kitsune Sura stood just out on the road, dusting herself clean as if wanting to free herself from all the taint of the temple. Chiri was speaking with her, clearly urging calm. The rat spirit’s two elementals bobbed in the air beside her, clearly agitated and keen to be away.
Monk and abbot both watched as Kuno and Tonbo joined the two women, conferring with the angry fox spirit. The abbot watched thoughtfully, until finally the four travellers passed down the road and out of view.
The town of Harima wound its way about the foot of a high, grassy hill. It was a place of thatched houses made from dark wooden boards, meandering streets and occasional outbreaks of tree. The town streets were still crowded with visiting samurai, and monks were reading donation scrolls and loudly begging for alms.
A hillside overlooking the river had been sculpted into sharp, smooth escarpments, and topped with the walls and firing platforms of an extensive castle. The stronghold was clearly entertaining important visitors: Raiden clan banners had been hung out in their dozens, and riders grandly made their way up the castle road in formal processions. Despite the oppressive heat, the visitors were gorgeously robed, painted, preened and armoured to the absolute height of fashion.
The town itself was home to louder, sweatier celebrations. Street performers sang and danced, while others sold cold fruits and drinks to wandering visitors. There were several inns – all crowded out with samurai who had come to town for the festival. It had taken the Spirit Hunters two long hot, tedious hours of searching, but they had finally found an inn that still had room for guests. It was a shabby place ignored by the visiting samurai. Though poor, it nevertheless had a view out across the river and a broad, shady porch. In the overbearing heat, the inn managed to catch a cool breeze blowing off the river, and the porch was shaded by an excellent old tree. The Spirit Hunters took up a table in the shade, and ordered the best meal that could be found.
The innkeeper was a nervous little man, bustling about and fussing. The crowds of samurai out on the streets made him agitated. The man rapidly set out a meal of rice balls, pickles and fish soup. He left the Spirit Hunters with two bottles of sakē, sitting himself down at a far part of the porch to fan himself and catch the river breeze.
The sakē was poor, but Kitsune Sura knocked back an entire jar almost at a draft, wrapped in a sick, seething fury. Chiri tactfully made certain that the other bottle was emptied, and poured Sura some tea.
“I know how you must feel. Do not take it so hard, Sura san. It was twenty years ago…”
“It was today!” The fox picked at her food, then pushed the bowls away. “I am sickened by humanity at large.”
Tonbo scowled off towards the town. He watched the celebrating samurai returning from the festival.
“It is not your doing. It is not mine.”
“It is our doing if we just walk past it!” Sura thrashed her tail. “You saw what I saw! You felt what I felt – up there on the mountain! That was a spirit without a form. Love and hurt and bitterness and pride! Such stark, pure pride! … And anger.” The fox shoved back her chair. “Justice. It has no name, but it knows it needs justice…”
Sura strode to the porch railings. She joined Tonbo in looking out across the town.
“They erased his name! They didn’t bury him with even the slightest prayer. They have erased his whole identity! Do you know what that means? He is trapped! They’re denying him an afterlife!”
Chiri felt a sick rush of dismay.
“Can we send the spirit to the realm of honoured dead?”
“Not without a name.” The fox made a bitter sweep of her hand. “And all because the man fell in love.”
Fighting a surge of frustration, Kuno tried to remain a voice of reason.
“Sura, we don’t even know what this love affair was! Maybe he stole the lord’s wife? Maybe he married a vampire?”
Tonbo weighed the concept for a moment, scratched the stubble on his chin, and then shook his head.
“Unlikely. Then he would have been executed, not ‘invited onwards’.”
Kuno remained adamant. “Clearly it was shameful! We must not leap to foolish conclusions!”
Kuno and Sura were at their customary loggerheads. Chiri politely intervened – ever the font of gentle good will. The rat spirit bowed to her companions.
“My friends, we must not argue with one another. We have no facts.”
“Well this is where we find some out!” The innkeeper was passing the table, bearing a tray of tea and persimmons. Sura immediately waved the man closer. “Oi! You! The samurai they revile at that shrine down the road. Who was his lover?”
The innkeeper paused in place, looking embarrassed and confused. He bobbed his head up and down in a timid bow.
“Priestess – we do not know.”
The fox glared at the man, folding her arms.
“So you accept the fact that the guy had a love affair so evil that it was worth even denying the poor bastard an afterlife… But no one bothers to remember the details?”
“We are sorry, priestess!”
The innkeeper had set aside his tray. He bowed in real apology, looking utterly ashamed.
“This is a new town! Most of us are newcomers. We know only what we are told, and the castle lord keeps this matter obscure.” The man bowed yet again, looking honestly miserable. “We are sorry we cannot enlighten you.”
Sura felt a stab of shame. She wilted, looked at the innkeeper, then bowed to the man in apology.
“I’m sorry, innkeeper. It is not your fault.”
“We understand, priestess. We honour you for caring for a soul in distress.”
The innkeeper bowed. He was joined by the inn’s maid, and the townsfolk at the surrounding tables. They bowed in absolute sincerity.
“Reibai, we pray for your success.”
The inn’s other guests all murmured their prayers, looking respectfully towards Sura. Somewhat chastened, the fox sat down. Tonbo fixed her beneath his patient, considering eye.
“Hmph! Ashamed of yourself?”
Sura muttered to herself, looking shamefaced. Tonbo nodded, then put a comforting hand upon her shoulder.
“We are professionals. We do not thrash about in a haze of unfocussed passion.” The man handed Sura a persimmon. “If you want to save this soul, then how do we do it?”
The fox heaved a sigh, and then frowned.
“A name. I have to be able to give him back his name.”
“Then we shall find his name, and bring him rest.”
Tonbo poured out tea for one and all. It had been a long morning’s walk, and the heat left everybody drained and restless. The big man pushed teacups over to his friends.
“Here. Drink. Eat. Rest. Tomorrow, we must have a plan and purpose.”
<
br /> Kuno drew in a breath and straightened his back, pushing away his frustrations. He lifted up his cup to Sura in salute.
“Sura san – we are Spirit Hunters. And tomorrow, we begin our task.”
They raised their cups together. Sura looked at her companions, infinitely glad for their presence.
The team toasted one another – firm and joyful. Sura shared out persimmons from a bowl, slicing then with a knife she kept hidden up one long trailing sleeve.
The town streets were loud with drunken samurai. But here by the river, the sound of water splashing over the river stones wall out part of the noise. The Spirit Hunters settled back with persimmons, nuts and tea. Sura stroked her chin, rapidly forming thoughts and making plans despite the heat.
Daitanishi settled upon the table, sitting in an empty teacup. Bifuuko drifted to his side, looking sleepy. Chiri fanned a gentle breeze over her two elementals. The rat leaned over to confer with Sura and Kuno, keeping her voice low and hoping that the elementals might drift off to sleep.
“Sura san - Kuno san. What do you feel our first move should be?”
Both fox and samurai looked at one another in accord. Kuno nodded.
“I believe we should quietly search through the official records. The castle should have records of all samurai who received any sort of stipend or land.”
Sura raised her cup. “Imperial deputy Asodo Kuno!”
“Indeed.” Kuno inclined his head, then looked out towards the castle upon the hill. “They will be available for more regular business tomorrow, I should hope.”