Tails High

by Paul Kidd

  Sura gleefully rubbed her hands together.

  “Someone should enter as an aspirant monk! Oooh, and someone should be someone special! Say, a noblewoman on an all expenses tour to meditate and renew her spiritual mind!”

  Tonbo looked over at the fox.

  “Someone red-haired?”

  “Exactly!” Sura slapped the man between the shoulder blades. “I’ll be the rich bitch, you can be the monk!”

  Kuno drew himself up and gave a nod.

  “I shall go as your escort.”

  Sura clapped her hands. “Then that’s the plan? Yes? Great!” She turned back towards the village inn. “We have ten days. Let’s get on the road first thing after dawn.”

  The Spirit Hunters headed toward their inn, where a cup of tea and warm beds awaited them. They walked a dozen paces in peace and quiet, before Tonbo held out his hand towards Sura.

  The fox flattened her ears.

  “I don’t know why you don’t think I can be trusted with all our money!”

  Tonbo gave a nod.

  “That is why I keep it.”

  Having already palmed two coins as a reserve for a rainy day, Sura passed the heavy pack of coins over to Tonbo, stuck her hands into her sleeves and padded onwards, her mind still turning over the problems ahead.

  The street behind them held only a few wandering revellers. But from a side alley behind a row of sakē booths, shadows emerged out of the dark.

  The Ishigi samurai, Funaji, coldly watched the Spirit Hunters disappear into their inn. The man glared and stroked slowly at his moustache and side whiskers.

  Two other Ishigi samurai accompanied him. Men from the moon-viewing party, they were still dressed in their party finery.

  The three men quietly conferred, spared the inn a final glance of pure, deadly hostility, then withdrew into the shadows.

  Chapter 3

  Hills climbed atop one another, rising to lofty views towards the sea. A forest filled with autumn colours covered the hillsides, whispering softly in the breeze. Streams splashed down through rocky beds, hissing in pure white, misty waterfalls before passing under rough log bridges, winding away towards the valley floor.

  A substantial monastery sat in a narrow gap between two hills. A waterfall spilled from the heights just behind, sending a rainbow glittering in the afternoon sunlight. A substantial village was just half a ri away down the road  a place made wealthy by famous plum orchards and a nearby copper mine.

  The monastery was large and peacefully beautiful. The old buildings were surrounded by a substantial wall – clearly made for seclusion rather than defence.

  Two hired porters bore a lacquered wood palanquin borrowed from the Ishigi castle. Inside, Kitsune Sura rode in state toward the monastery. She wore her beautiful kimono from the previous night’s party. A black wig disguised her fox ears and hair, and makeup concealed the foxy colouring of her face. Her tail was tucked down inside her robes. She kept the window blinds well raised.

  Kuno strode beside the palanquin as it bobbed along uphill. He wore full armour and carried Sura’s spear. Behind came Tonbo – dressed as an itinerant Buddhist monk. His head had been roughly shaved, and he wore a headband that had clearly seen much better days. He carried his tetsubo rolled up in a length of grass matting, and his pack held his carefully packed and folded armour. Behind him came two more hired porters with a box-load of luggage between them on as long bamboo pole. The procession trudged purposefully on towards the monastery gates.

  A force of Ishigi samurai blocked the road near the wall. Guard posts ringed the monastery – all staffed by alert, armoured men. Painted boards hanging from the trees warned of a quarantine against disease. The guard commander came forth and signed for the palanquin to halt. He strode forward, hand upon his sword hilt, to give a stiff, military bow. Kuno showed the man a pass signed by Ishigi Ieyesu himself. The officer read the paper thoroughly then bowed again, making way to let the small procession pass.

  The gates swung open. Two men came out into the open road – a tall, thin prior in fine robes, and a monk wearing an outsized string of rosary beads. The two men kept their distance from the newcomers. Watched carefully by the Ishigi samurai, the monks bowed. Kuno moved forward and bowed gravely in return.

  “Honoured monks. I have the privilege of escorting the Lady Utone Hanako, wife of General Utone Matanabe, and the only daughter of Lord Toshiba. She has come here to fulfil a sacred vow.”

  Sura remained a regal, mysterious, shadowy figure inside the palanquin. But hints of her elegant outline could just be glimpsed through the slatted curtains. The prior edged to one side, interested and intrigued. He preened his robes into a straighter fall, smoothing at his narrow black moustache. He signalled to the monk, who came closer and knelt in the road, keeping his mouth and nose covered with his sleeve.

  The monk gave a gruff nod of his head.

  “Lady Utone. I am monk Musashi. I speak for the prior.” The man planted himself like a rock in their path. “Forgive me, but the time is not auspicious for upholding vows. Lord Ishigi’s men surround the monastery. A visitor who left our monastery has been diagnosed with plague. A quarantine order has been issued: no one may leave our walls.”

  Sura’s voice drifted from the depths of the palanquin – elegant and intelligent. She spoke calmly but firmly.

  “Forgive me, honoured monk, but I fail to see that these events impinge upon my vows.”

  “Lady. Clearly visitors to the monastery may not leave once they enter.”

  Sura’s voice was gracious, yet utterly firm.

  “My vow was to enter your monastery for prayer and purification, honoured monk. I see no barrier to entering.”

  The monk held his bow.

  “Forgive me, but there is a risk of infection.”

  “Merciful Buddha will be my protection. It is my duty to ensure that my vow is upheld.”

  The monk bowed to the decision and stood to move out of the road and allow them to pass.

  Kuno knelt beside the palanquin and opened the door, bowing to Sura as she stepped elegantly forth.

  Sura made a magnificent spectacle as she walked towards the monastery. Her kimono gleamed, and a white over-robe trailed elegantly behind her. She carried a Buddhist rosary in one hand. Foxy colouration hidden beneath makeup, she kept a gauze veil trailing from her straw travel hat to conceal her startling leaf-green eyes.

  Sura’s robes fitted tightly to her curves. The prior seemed quite appreciative and cruised forward to greet her with a silken bow.

  “Lady Utone. I am the prior.” He gestured genially to Tonbo and Kuno.

  “Will your men also be entering our grounds?”

  Tonbo and Kuno bowed assent. The porters and palanquin bearers were already moving back and away downhill as swiftly as their feet could carry them. Sura gave an idle wave towards her baggage, and a trio of monks came forward from the monastery to take her bags. She made an elegant gesture towards Kuno.

  “My escort will require quarters during my stay. He will join the monks in their worship, if that is permitted.”

  “Yes, lady.” The prior beamed, then looked over to Tonbo. “And this man?”

  Sura made a noise as if she were disappointed with the iniquities of the world.

  “A chance companion of the road. This man is a penitent monk. He has been sorely tempted by the luxuries of secular life, and needs re-schooling.”

  “Ah! We know how to deal with backsliders!” The prior puffed out his chest, and pointed at Tonbo with his walking staff. “We shall deal with you promptly!”

  Tonbo bowed. He seemed to be taking the threat with great calm and self-satisfaction. The prior nodded to one and all, cast a glance at the cordon of Ishigi samurai, then moved on into the courtyard. He strode off towards the main buildings, robes sweeping heroically in his wake.

  The monk with the outsized rosary remained at Sura’s side. He bowed to her as he spoke.

  “This humble monk dares to ask –
does your ladyship wish our most exclusive guest quarters during her spiritual rejuvenation? Our highest ranking service?”

  Sura strutted forward.

  “Absolutely, honoured monk. Nothing but the ultimate service that your monastery can offer!”

  “It shall be as you request.”

  Sura looked back and clandestinely poked out her tongue at Tonbo as she passed. He merely returned a look of strangely placid satisfaction.

  Picking up her hems, Sura walked grandly off in the company of the monk, followed by a line of men carrying her baggage. Kuno and Tonbo took a last look along the line of the walls then strode on through the waiting gates.

  The heavy gates closed behind them. Out in the forest, the Ishigi samurai resumed their tireless watch.

  Two dozen monks sat in a great, wide hall, chanting before a Buddha image carved from rich red wood. Behind the monks, a pair of acolytes – students still with their heads unshaved – chanted along with the others. The acolytes cast a swift glance towards the newcomers as Kuno, Tonbo and Sura passed by, and wrinkled their noses in disdain.

  Sura and Kuno were guided on towards the guest quarters. But the monk with rosary beads led Tonbo aside. He took him quietly off through a garden filled with hibiscus flowers.

  The monk waved one hand genially out towards the gardens.

  “Brother. You have chosen well. This is the perfect place in which to free yourself of a passion for the outer world.” The man ambled along, full of peace and genial calm. “As you know, our sect is that of the inner way – the sect of self-realisation. Outside instruction is worthless to you. No man must be pushed beyond their current circle of enlightenment – the transition comes when we are ready. So here, we eat as we would in the outside world. We drink, we enjoy fellowship. When you feel the need for more contemplative surroundings, we will respect that need and you will be able to act as your inner voice directs.”

  The monk bowed the way forward into a hallway floored with tatami mats. He indicated comfortable cushions. A tea kettle was already on the hearth, and sakē bottles were being warmed in pots of hot water. The monk gestured for Tonbo to sit and take his ease.

  “Please brother – join us in our evening meal.”

  Tonbo looked the room over, and gladly settled himself down.

  “I thank you, brother. My journey has been long.”

  Tonbo sat down in comfort, setting his baggage at his side. Sakē was poured out – warm and welcome after an afternoon spent in the brisk autumn air. The big samurai settled back in satisfaction, and cast an amused eye off towards the guest house buildings just beyond.

  Moving with a straight-backed, regal grace, Kitsune Sura walked with the monastery’s prior to the most exclusive wing of the guest quarters. An underling showed Kuno to his own quarters on the lower floor, while Sura was taken upstairs by the bowing, smiling prior and a rather unctuous little assistant.

  They entered a long, bare corridor that was immaculately clean. An elder monk came hastening down the corridor and murmured briefly in the prior’s ear. The prior nodded, beamed, and sent the man off on his way. He inclined his head to Sura with a gracious bow.

  “Great lady. Your quarters are prepared.”

  The assistant moved forward, knelt in the corridor and opened a sliding door. He bowed silkily, waiting for Sura to enter the room.

  As she moved past the prior, Sura had the distinct impression that he was admiring her rear. She frowned – then brought herself to a bewildered halt as she stood in the middle of the guest room.

  The room was cold, scrubbed painfully clean, and utterly bare. There were no mats upon the floor – it was bare, hard wood, and horribly cold. A hard grass mat served as a bed, with a single austere quilt. The only decoration in the room was a single sprig of wildflower in a plain vase, sitting beside the open window.

  The prior was immensely pleased. He opened up his arms as if to embrace the sheer austerity.

  “As per your orders, we have provided the highest level of spiritual minimalism we can achieve.” The man suavely bowed. “For your spiritual enrichment, we have made certain there are no distractions. Since you need all your concentration, your diet has been carefully designed to be devoid of distracting flavours. The bed is hard enough to ensure that your nights can be spent in contemplation rather than wasteful slumber.”

  Sura felt a terrible surge of panic. “What?”

  The prior put a hand against his heart. “We salute your deep enlightenment, great lady! Few of us would ever, ever elect to reach so high!”

  Sura turned to stare at the room. Behind her, the prior took a detailed inventory of her figure, particularly approving of her backside. Feeling something of his scrutiny, Sura turned.

  She tugged her clothing straight.

  “I have the freedom of the monastery?”

  “You are free to move as you like, my lady. There are gardens, shrines. The bath house is to the left. To the right, the monks’ quarters…” The man gave a sly, insinuating glance. “Although my own quarters are below…”

  Sura shot the man a look of sheer dislike and moved to stand further away.

  “And is dinner soon?”

  “It is already here, my lady!” A scrawny young monk had arrived. He entered bearing a tray holding two very, very small bowls, chopsticks, and a flask of water. “Steamed millet and spring water – sour garden greens.” The prior saw her distress. He gave Sura a smooth, sly bow. “I shall be enjoying a fuller, private repast below.”

  The prior departed and the door slid shut behind him. Finally free from observation, Sura flitted forward and checked the door, making certain that the prior and his assistant had definitely gone. She checked the adjoining walls for peep holes, spy holes and secret hatchways, and found nothing. Sura finally sat herself down on the miserable bed, and scratched vigorously beneath her sweaty wig.

  Chiri emerged tentatively from Sura’s right sleeve in her rat form, all white and pink and beautiful. Daitanishi and Bifuuko hopped out onto the floor and shook themselves, then immediately began peering about the little room.

  Chiri sat up on her haunches and thoughtfully combed her whiskers.

  “Oh! The décor is disappointing.”

  Sura whispered to the rat, fluffing out her robes in annoyance. “That prior was checking out my arse!”

  “Did you not deliberately choose our robes to draw attention to those features? Tonbo seemed to approve.”

  “Yeah, but I want him to approve! This other guy is supposed to be a monk!”

  Sura reached over and dragged the dinner tray over to her side. She uncovered the main bowl, and found it contained a handful of plain, boiled millet. It smelled like a dirty sock that had been left lying in the rain. Sura shoved the bowl away.

  “Ugh!”

  Chiri twittered over and peered into the bowl. “I will eat it. I rather like millet.”

  The fox made a face. “Be my guest…”

  The fox sighed and hauled herself back to her feet. She walked over to the window, and looked down into the courtyard just below.

  A wide hall just opposite the guest house served as the dining hall for the monks. It was a fine autumn evening, so many of the laughing, chatting monks were sitting out on the porch, eating and drinking. To Sura’s astonishment, they were stuffing themselves with purple rice and endame beans, hot togan gourd soup and great piles of savoury mushrooms and tofu drizzled in amber sauce. There was home-made plum wine with every course, and a fig salad for dessert. Sura made a little noise of despair and plastered her face against the wooden window bars.

  Tonbo was sitting out on the porch, chatting with monks and stuffing himself.

  Someone brought a large tray of noodle bowls and dumplings. Tonbo helped himself to a bowl – his second – and gave a sigh.

  He looked up and saw Sura peering down at him in distress. Tonbo raised his cup of plum wine to her in salute, and patted at his belly.

  Sura glowered at the man, seething
with schemes.

  “I’ll get you for this, you bald git!” The fox whirled away and paced back and forth in irritation. “He knew! He knew this would happen!”

  Chiri gave a nod, brushing bits of millet from her whiskers.

  “Yes, he does seem to be revelling in the joke.” The little white rat looked over at the window. “Where is Kuno?”

  “Looks like he’s getting a deluxe dinner all of his own.” Sura sat herself down and went into a sulk. “Great.”

  There was nothing for it but to get on with the job. Sura peeked into the bowl of cold greens. There were a few slices of plain, raw gourd, and what might have been dandelion. She made a face and ate the slivers of gourd, then poured out some water and held the cup for Chiri so the little rat could drink.

  They both went carefully to the window together and peered down into the courtyard. The monastery seemed to hold perhaps fifty monks and acolytes – young and old, short and tall. They all seemed to be eating – all speaking or acting with perfect normality. Chiri and Sura kept well back in the shadows and looked thoughtfully out over the crowd.

  Chiri gave a little scowl.

  “So. One, and possibly two of these people are monsters in disguise.”

  “Ieyesu has this place sealed off pretty good. The ‘plague’ idea is a good cover.” Sura moved to look out over the rooves, checking for paths and exits. “The mamono will be looking for an escape route.”

  “Any monks who look as though they seek escape are our likely culprits, then.”

  “Night-time is when they’ll try to leave. We just have to keep watch…. Unless we can discover their identities first.” She looked at Chiri, then reached out to groom her fur. “Wait – you have a little millet on your whiskers.”

  Sura and Bifuuko fussed about setting the little rat to rights. Daitanishi kept watch on the corridor, scowling through a tiny crack in the door.

  The rat shook out her fur and sat up on Sura’s thigh.

  “Finding their identities… How do we expose them?”

  The fox gave a shrug. “We slit their stolen skins and expose them to sunlight.”