by Paul Kidd
Tonbo caught sight of her, looked back to make certain that they were unseen, and spread the rat spirit’s clothing carefully out upon the ground. The rat threaded awkwardly up into her clothes, shimmered, and transformed back into human form.
Bifuuko swarmed about, combing and ordering Chiri’s streams of long white hair. Sura was fanning Kuno’s face with her sleeves – incidentally keeping Chiri’s sudden appearance hidden from the clerks in the other room. She turned about and waved as Chiri came bustling up towards the door.
“Hey! We have rice cakes!” She passed one swiftly to the rat. “OK – let’s get going.”
“Absolutely.” Chiri helped Kuno order his equipment as the man rose up from the floor. “Are you well, Kuno san?”
“Thank you. I am greatly recovered.”
The group gathered their equipment and headed out into the castle compound. Raiden clan samurai were now watching them thoughtfully from their posts. Sura linked arms with Chiri and nodded to a distant team of archers who were quietly shadowing them from afar. She steered Chiri towards the castle gate, smiling at the guard.
The fox spoke quietly to Chiri as she smiled.
“Find anything?”
“I did indeed. Our investigations are most unwelcome.” The rat wanted to hasten the retreat, but Sura restrained her to a nonchalant stroll. “Lord and Lady Tado will attempt to impede us.”
Sura walked along as though she had not a worry in the world, stopping to wave back to the watching clerks. “They’re in on it somehow! How? Why?”
Kuno gave a thoughtful frown. “The Raiden find the ceremony useful. So does the temple.”
The rat cast a glance towards the residence.
“Forgive me, Kuno san, but it seemed more than that. Lady Tado was quite… adamant.”
Nodding thoughtfully, Tonbo steered his companions towards the castle gate. He kept a watch upon the guards from the corner of his eye.
“Heads down – walk fast.”
They passed through the trees and out the gates, heading onto the long, sloping road that lead down the castle hill. Foot soldiers leading oxcarts filled with rice were plodding uphill towards them. The Spirit Hunters passed the carts, threading through a line of soldiers that came marching up behind. Other traffic came through the gate, heading downhill: messengers and samurai, off about the business of the garrison.
At the base of the hill, the road crossed a bridge then threaded into the stifling town. The Spirit Hunters walked on into the streets, fanning themselves in the still, hot air.
Sura stopped to peek into a roadside stall, long tail swishing back and forth behind her. She returned with rice balls and a very large jug of sake. Her smile was wonderfully false.
Two samurai in street dress had followed them all the way down from the castle. The two men stopped when Sura stopped, pretending to interest themselves in a horse. When Sura moved, the pair of samurai walked onwards as well.
The fox shouldered her jug. She idly led her friends into a side street, then put her head down and ran like hell.
The others ran with her. Sura plunged into an alley, hurrying everyone into cover behind a stack of lumber. Chiri hung back at the edge of the alleyway. She spread her hands, a rising swirl of air lifting up her hair and churning at the dust.
“Little sisters of the air!
Come and play, be wild and free!
Tumble in the timeless dance!
Dust and dirt, fly high for me!”
Little air elementals coalesced above the ground, dancing and swirling in a circle, fast and faster until a small dust storm filled the road. The two samurai rounded the corner, then stood in the road, utterly blinded. They tried to move forward, but had to retreat coughing and spluttering back to the main road. The elementals surrounded the two samurai, raising a dust storm all about them wherever they tried to go.
Sura watched for a moment in delight, then clapped Chiri on the shoulder and ran with her gleefully down the alley.
“You do good work!”
They ran into one small street after another, guided by Sura’s cunning nose. She led them racing out through a path that threaded down onto the river banks, plunging through weeds and bushes to hide them out of view.
They took shelter in the trees. Sura left the others deep in cover and crept back to the edge of the weeds. She finally saw the two Raiden samurai coming out onto the main river road. They stopped and glared off along the road – clearly having no idea where to find their prey. The men searched carefully then headed back into the town, vanishing from view.
Sura slid back down into the trees. She found the others and jerked her thumb back towards the road.
“Lost ‘em! They’re off to search all the inns.” The fox tucked her long spear beneath her arm. “Now – we have made a solemn commitment to the lord and lady of the castle, and I feel we must abide by it. We shall definitely report to their law office every morning. By post.”
Tonbo scratched at his chin. “Hmmm. Collect?”
“Absolutely!”
Kuno rose and looked thoughtfully back at the town.
“We shall have to find a place to stay that is outside of their eye.”
“No problem.” Sura gave a lackadaisical wave of her hand. “I have a perfect place for us to stay. Somewhere they’ll never look! And somewhere full of information.”
Kuno frowned.
“Where? Where are we going?”
“Don’t worry! You’ll love this!” Sura gathered up her friends.
“Trust me – I’m a fox!”
Chapter 3
Sunset spread wings of bronze and gold across the western sky. In the deep, quiet forests, cicadas finally took their rest. Crickets slowly took up the evening chorus, stirring sleepily up between the leaves.
At the Eta village, the tanners, butchers and gravediggers trailed in from their work, heading into a long, low bath house. The plain little houses glowed as a few lamps were lit. Cooking fires sent thin trails of smoke drifting up into the trees.
Sura had set up camp beneath a broad old tree, pitching her bedroll atop a pile of new-cut grass. She lounged back against the tree trunk with a straw in her mouth and a frown upon her brow, her mind concentrated upon the case. Tonbo and Chiri set out the camp fire, preparing to make the evening meal. Tonbo drew the bandoleer of rations from about his neck: dried vegetables, rice, soup powders and dried fish all wrapped in oiled cloth. Sura’s menu input had been absolutely forbidden – the incident with the candied clams would be long, long remembered. Chiri set a pot of water over the flames, then sat back, pleased with a task begun.
Kuno sat stiffly, trying to remain perfectly polite to the entire universe around him. Eta came along the nearby trail, heading for their homes. On seeing the visitors with armour and weapons stacked beside them, the Eta immediately knelt in the road and bowed. Sura waved hello, while Kuno gave stiff, perfectly measured bows in reply.
Sura took the straw out of her mouth and cast a glance at Kuno.
“Kuno, will you just relax! You’re not in the Eta village per se. No one’s going to strike you off the social register just for goofing off in some woods!”
The man frowned. Chiri came forward, wiping her hands on a little towel handed to her by Daitanishi.
“I think they have been very pleasant to us. We are disturbing their routine.” The rat spirit looked up into the trees, where tiny forms stirred just out of normal view. “The wood spirits like them.”
Sura settled back against her tree, finding a new straw. She gave a scowl.
“Well – at least it’s quiet. I’m going to buy them all a drink tomorrow. Right now – we have to think…”
The fox returned to musing. Chiri set out their little pan and began to fry a pair of fish she had caught in the river. Tonbo inspected the fire, then set out to fetch a few more sticks of firewood. It would be best to have fuel handy for the morning: Sura was no earthly use to man nor beast before her morning cup of tea.
Some distance from the village, a little meadow was filled with summer grass. Springtime winds had stripped old limbs from several trees. Tonbo wandered out into the meadow. He looked about, wiping his brow, then tied a towel about his head as a sweat band and set to work gathering timber.
There were twigs and old tree limbs aplenty in the grass. He worked his way up and over a great fallen tree colonized with shelf fungi, then suddenly paused.
At the far side of the fallen tree was a little graveyard. Wooden grave posts had been driven into the ground beside the forest eaves. A small bird landed on one post, its wings flashing brightly as the creature chirped and sang. Tonbo walked forward and looked out across the graves, drinking in the peace and quiet.
One grave post nearby had been almost completely smothered by climbing weeds. Tonbo pulled the weeds away, cleaning off the post with his hand. He poured some water from his canteen and washed the dirt away, wiping the wood with his gauntleted hand. The big man stood and gave a quiet bow towards the post. He then turned and scanned his gaze across the trees.
A teenage girl had come walking from the forest, carrying a bucket and small clay bowl. She was dark skinned with fine, high cheekbones, and long hair bound back behind her with a strip of cloth. Her plain robe and skirt were all home-dyed, home-woven hemp.
She caught sight of Tonbo, immediately taking fright. The girl dropped to her knees and pressed her face into the ground. She remained in her abject bow, too frightened to rise. Tonbo moved gently over. He planted his massive tetsubo end-first onto the ground and leaned upon it, looking patiently down at the girl.
“Enough nonsense.” The man extended a kindly hand. “Get up.”
The girl peeked slowly out from beneath her long hair, like a snail peering timidly from its shell. She risked one brief glance, then kept her gaze upon the ground.
“Forgive me, great samurai! I did not mean to disturb you with my unworthy presence.”
“Hmph. Nothing is unworthy.”
The girl seemed too frightened to stand, and so Tonbo decided to sit. He parked himself, his firewood and his tetsubo upon the grass beside the girl. The big man cracked the stiff muscles of his neck, and gave a sigh.
The young girl carried a bucket and ladle, and a small bowl of steamed millet. Tonbo cast an eye at the bowl and gave a frown.
“This is your dinner?”
The girl quietly sat up. She kept her gaze downcast.
“I – I have no dinner, great samurai! I take this as an offering to my mother’s grave.” The girl sadly looked down at her slender hands. “She was murdered long ago, and I fear that her ghost may be restless and sad.”
Tonbo scratched at his stubble, listening to the girl’s tale.
“Murdered? How?”
“A samurai did it, great lord. It is not considered a crime to kill a mere Eta.” The girl’s voice was hollow. She looked off into the shadows of the trees. “But my mother gave the man a dying curse. And sometimes I feel the curse watching from the dark…”
Tonbo cocked one brow
“A curse, is it?” The big man looked out over the deserted graveyard. “Well – we can have Sura perform the ceremony for the repose of the dead. That might put you more at ease.” He saw the girl looking back at him in confusion. Tonbo patiently explained, pointing back towards the village. “The fox lady. With the tail? She is a priestess. A reibai.”
The girl immediately bowed, trying to hide her shame.
“I… I cannot pay a priestess for such a ceremony, great lord.”
Tonbo made a wave, dismissing the entire idea.
“The reibai would never ask you for payment. She does not prey on the unfortunate.”
The samurai scratched his chin. The girl was still almost quaking with fright. Tonbo looked from the girl to the bowl of millet, and finally gave a grunt.
“You have no dinner? You are giving your own meal to your dead?”
“Yes, great lord.” Tonbo drew his bandoleer of rations from his shoulder. He pulled out four ration packets and laid them out before the girl.
“Here. Rice, fish, vegetables, fruit, tea. Field rations.”
The girl looked at the packets in astonishment. The Eta would rarely ever see rice. She almost feared to touch it.
“Rice!”
“Take it home. Cook. Eat.”
Tonbo drew out a slip of paper from a box inside his pack. He carefully spread it out flat. He looked the girl up and down, impressed by her sweet, shy bearing. When not in the throes of abject terror, she was quite personable.
“You speak well.” Tonbo tapped at his chest. “I am Tsunetomo Tonbo. What is your name, girl?”
She bowed again, looking at the ground.
“Eta… Eta do not have names, great… honourable samurai. We are known only by our job.”
“Ridiculous! If I called out ‘tanner’, fifty of you would come running!” The samurai frowned. “I mean, what do you call yourselves?”
“I… I have my cradle name, given to me by my mother…” The girl looked up at Tonbo, then gave a graceful bow. “I am Little Sparrow.”
Tonbo nodded. He began to fold his sheet of paper.
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Little Sparrow.”
“A - a pleasure to meet you, Tsunetomo san.” The girl risked looking up at Tonbo once again. “You – you will all be staying near our village?”
“We are Spirit Hunters. There is work to do.”
Tonbo finished folding his origami. He had made a perfect little paper sparrow. He blew upon it, then gave it to the girl.
“Here. Give your mother this. Tell her Tsunetomo Tonbo will pray for her.”
Amazed at the offering, Little Sparrow stared. She took the paper bird, then bowed profoundly.
“Thank you, samurai. Thank you.”
Tonbo rose to his feet and collected his firewood. The man turned, gave a warm, pleasant bow to Little Sparrow, and wandered back towards camp. The young Eta girl watched him go in quiet amazement.
He returned to find Chiri singing as she carefully served out the evening rice for one and all, sprinkling it with her own recipe of seaweed flakes, seeds and spices. Sunset was turning into evening, and the campfire spread a cheerful golden glow. Sura had set out a pair of lamps, and was bringing forth a board game to play with Kuno after supper. All seemed perfectly peaceful and well. Tonbo set down his wood, then stood to look out over the Eta village. All was quiet – all was well. No strange spirit clouds were lurking in the deep, dark woods. The big man sat down and gratefully accepted a bowl of noodle soup with mushrooms served to him by Chiri.
Tonbo engulfed a great stream of noodles, then gave a sigh. Fried fish, rice and pickles were set out to share, and there was sakē to accompany dinner. Tonbo took charge of a bowl of rice, and looked over to Sura at the far side of the fire.
“Do we know what we are doing tomorrow?”
“Oh yes! The fox has a plan.” Sura buried herself in her food, eating with her customary voracity. Much to Kuno’s annoyance, she spoke with her mouth full. “We follow up on Kuno’s lead. I figured out a way.”
“A subtle way?”
“Of course!”
It seemed that all was well. The group lounged back to eat together. Out in the woods, the night-time shadows finally fell, and the sky glittered with the first bright evening stars.
The Buddhist shrine opened its outer gates at the hour of the dragon: one hour after dawn. Well-dressed monks pushed open the heavy gates, bowing greetings to the pilgrims and visitors waiting out in the road. The temple flew a small yellow flag, indicating at a sermon was soon to be read. Devotees of the Buddha made thei
r way towards the inner shrine, while others threw coins into the donation trough and rang a temple bell.
Sura had taken immense delight in preparing for her visit to the shrine. She had change into her humanoid form and dressed in a flower patterned robe, adding a nice plain apron purchased from the Eta. She had run ashes and white clay all through her hair, turning it a marvellous shade of silver-grey. The fox had bound a printed towel about her head, disguising her ears, and her tail had been tied in place beneath her skirts. Her face had been dusted with makeup to hide its foxy orange highlights, and artful lines made the woman seem a hundred years old. She leaned upon a wooden staff, peering myopically about herself and occasionally working her chops.
Kuno was with her – also heavily disguised as an aged peasant. His hair had been greyed, and lines etched into his face – there were even liver spots upon his hands. He took Sura upon his arm and shuffled through the shrine gates, nodding little bows towards the monks. Kuno had deep reservations about the entire scheme, and was surprised when the monks waved them through without paying the slightest notice.
Sura gave a chuckle of sly triumph. She had blacked out some of her teeth for the occasion, and the effect was wonderfully wicked. She tweaked Kuno’s arm and led him off towards some long, tediously decorated buildings at the rear of the shrine – surely the pulsing heartbeat of the temple bureaucracy.