The Quest for the Fuji Cipher (A Richard Halliburton Adventure Book 4)
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“What do you want?” the man asked.
“Bhodi Daido,” Richard said. “Do you know him?”
“Bhodi?” the man asked.
Richard nodded. The slit was slammed shut as Richard heard the pitter-patter of feet racing away from the entrance. After what felt like several minutes, the door swung open and a man armed with a sword joined Richard beyond the gates.
“You speak English,” Bhodi said.
“Yes, I apologize, but my Japanese is rather weak, nearly non-existent.”
“Non-existent?” Bhodi asked.
“Oh, never mind,” Richard said. “I came to talk to you about the samurai warriors down the mountain. Are you familiar with them?”
Bhodi shrugged. “Who’s asking?”
“I’m sorry, but my name is Richard Halliburton, and I’m an American visiting Japan for a magazine article I’m writing.”
“And you want to speak with me?”
Richard eyed the dagger in Bhodi’s hand. “Can you please put that away? I’m not here to attack you. In fact, I’m here for just the opposite. I’m here to save you.”
Bhodi chuckled. “I can handle myself. Now if you came all the way up here to tell me that, I suggest you turn around and leave.”
“I thought that’s what you’d say,” Richard said. “That’s what any samurai warrior would say.”
Bhodi narrowed his eyes “Who are you really?”
“I told you. I’m an adventure writer, working on an article on Mt. Fuji. And on my way up the mountain, I was detained by a small group of samurai warriors that are very upset with you for exposing their hideout.”
“It’s an antiquated art form that needs to be stopped. They would still be killing and plundering their neighbors’ land if given the opportunity.”
“While I agree with your sentiments, the leader of the group looked very intent on killing you.”
Bhodi shrugged. “And how are you going to change that? Don’t you think I already have a good idea that they want to kill me?”
“Sure, but—”
“What do you really want?”
Richard interlocked his fingers and drew them close to his chest in a prayerful gesture. “Please, hear me out. I think we can work together to end this threat, satisfying their need for revenge while allowing you to go about the rest of your life without the fear that someone behind you might be swinging a blade aimed for your neck.”
“I’m listening.”
“They are requiring me to bring your ear as proof that I’ve killed you.”
Bhodi raised his dagger. “If you think I’m going to cut off my ear—”
“No, no. Of course not. I’ll give him one from someone who is already dead.”
“Do you have a dead body? Because everyone who dies up here is cremated.”
Richard furrowed his brow. “I hear that the monks up here are master craftsmen. Perhaps, they can make one?”
“Make an ear?”
Richard nodded.
“I suppose it’s possible. But then I’d have to explain my background as a former samurai warrior. I’m not sure I’d be welcome here anymore if the monks learned what I used to do. You don’t have any other ideas, do you?”
Richard stroked his chin. “Do you happen to have any other dead bodies?”
“Wait a minute. There was a monk who died last week who specifically asked to be buried. His body is in a sealed casket. But if you can get to it somehow . . .”
“That was the other half of my proposal,” Richard said. “I need entrance into the monastery.”
“For your article? The monks aren’t fond of anyone writing about them.”
Richard shook his head. “For my own personal enlightenment. I want to experience what goes on here and see if I can glean anything from it.”
“That plan might work, but I can’t just let you in,” Bhodi said. “I need to bring one of our priests here. There’s only one who speaks English. Please wait right here, and I’ll return soon.”
Richard paced while he waited outside the gates for Bhodi’s return. After a few minutes, he emerged from behind the door, leading a priest with him.
The priest introduced himself as Saichō.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Richard said before bowing.
“What can I help you with, my child?”
“I want to spend a few days here and was wondering if I could experience Buddhism with you and the other monks here.”
“We don’t allow tourists in here, especially cameras,” Saichō said, glancing at Richard’s camera that was hanging out of his bag.
“None of this is important to me,” Richard said. “I want to find a path to greater enlightenment, and I believe that you can show me the way there.”
“I appreciate your zeal, but I’m afraid at this time we cannot allow you access to our hallowed and holy grounds. I hope you’ll find what you’re looking for.”
Before Richard could respond, a bird swooped in, dipping and diving erratically. Richard ducked as the animal swiped him on top of his head while chattering loudly.
“Now look,” the priest said. “A sign to confirm my decision.”
“Wait,” Richard said. “Is that it? You’re just going to reject me like that? No appeal? No second chance? You saw a bird and that’s it?”
Saichō shook his head. “I have spoken.” After issuing his judgment, he turned and walked back inside the gates.
“I’m sorry,” Bhodi mouthed to Richard while closing off the entrance.
“So what am I supposed to do now?” Richard called.
Moments later, the door opened again and the original guard appeared. “I don’t know what you’re supposed to do, but you’re going to need to do it outside.”
“Are you insane? I can’t make that descent in the dark? You’d be sending me to my death.”
The guard shrugged. “I don’t make the rules. I only enforce them.”
“Look, I’ll leave first thing in the morning, but you can’t make me stay out there. I’ll either freeze to death or die on my way down.”
“Maybe you should’ve considered that before you came up here,” the guard said before locking the gate.
Richard took a deep breath and then exhaled slowly. He wasn’t sure if the monastery guards would physically remove him, but he wasn’t interested in knowing that definitively.
There has to be another way.
The bird that had flown near Richard was squawking and continued to dip and dive before slamming into a nearby boulder.
Richard rushed over to the animal, scooping it up. The bird’s head bobbled as its eyes opened slowly and then closed, repeating that several times before its eyes remained closed. Richard enveloped the animal in his hands, testing for a pulse. Its heart was still beating.
“I know how you feel,” Richard said. “That about sums up my day.”
“Outside now,” the other guard from behind the wall shouted.
Richard growled as he rose to his feet to follow the edict. He wound his way through the maze-like entrance until he stepped into the bitter winds blasting across the side of the mountain. Leaning back against the rock, Richard tucked the bird in his coat and remained just inside the entrance to avoid the wind.
“What are they going to do to us, little fellow?” Richard asked his new friend. “I promise I won’t be as cruel as these men.”
Richard’s teeth chattered as he tried to keep himself warm. He stared out into the stormy scene as daylight had all but faded, yielding to dark-gray skies. In a matter of minutes, night would fall, and Richard wasn’t sure he’d be able to survive if he was forced into the open.
“How are you doing in there? Staying warm?” Richard asked. “Good. That makes one of us.”
Richard remained still as he heard the shuffling of feet drawing closer. He braced for the worst as he looked in the direction of the footfalls.
Then Saichō emerged around the corner, his face solemn and hands clasp
ed in front of him.
“I thought we instructed you to move outside,” he said.
Richard bit his lip as he rose to his feet and trudged toward the opening.
Chapter 16
RICHARD SHOOK HIS HEAD as he glanced back at the priest. The old man hadn’t moved as he eyed Richard shuffling off into the night. But Richard stopped, spinning on his heels and marching back toward the man.
“Before I go, I just need to say one thing,” Richard said. “And it’s this—”
“Quiet, my child,” Saichō said. “I’m not here to send you into the cold darkness. I’m here to invite you into the warm light.”
“Invite me in?” Richard asked, his eyes widening. “Did you hear that, little guy? They’re going to let us inside.”
“Come now. I know you’re freezing.”
Richard scrambled to his feet, continuing to shield the bird from the elements. He flung his pack over his shoulder and followed the priest.
“If you don’t mind me asking, what made you change your mind?” Richard asked.
The priest placed his hands behind his back as he walked. “You showed pity to a helpless animal. That’s all I need to know about what kind of man you are.”
Richard chuckled and shook his head. “One moment doesn’t make a man.”
“And what does make a man?” Saichō asked.
“The sum of our decisions in both our strongest and weakest moments is what determines what kind of person we become,” Richard said. “It displays the type of character we have.”
Saichō nodded. “And in a time of great weakness, you chose to show pity toward a bird. I don’t think I’ll regret allowing you inside for a night.”
“Or two?” Richard asked. “Or maybe five or six?”
“We’ll see. Just don’t make me regret my decision.”
“I’ll make you proud,” Richard said, hustling to keep pace with the elderly man who seemed to glide across the ground.
“The goal is not to make me proud but to be true to yourself,” Saichō said.
“I’m not sure what that means, but my grandmother used to always tell me to be authentic. And that’s what I try to do.”
“Are you always successful in that endeavor?”
Richard huffed a soft laugh through his nose. “Is that even possible?”
“When you become enlightened, you will find that every decision you make will enable you to be true to yourself.”
“Are you enlightened?” Richard asked.
“One day, my child, one day.”
But Richard already knew the answer to that question based on Saichō’s definition of the word.
An enlightened person wouldn’t force a weary traveler into the snow to spend the night.
“Perhaps you’re more enlightened than me,” Saichō said.
Richard stopped and eyed the priest. “What did you say?”
Saichō kept walking. “I know what you were thinking.”
“Was that some kind of Buddhist magic trick?” Richard asked.
“No magic involved. Your thoughts were simply written all over your face.”
Richard resumed following Saichō. “I’m not sure Buddhism is for me.”
“If your mind is open, it can be changed.”
“Who said that? One of your revered leaders?”
Saichō grunted. “Not everything we say is from our religion. Some things just make common sense.”
As they entered the gates, Richard took in the surprising beauty of a temple tucked away in the side of a mountain. The monks had utilized natural features of the cave like boulders and tunnels and incorporated them into the sprawling sanctuary. Richard stayed close behind Saichō, who maneuvered through the other monks working in silence. Upon reaching a small room with a counter and rows of books, Saichō told Richard to sit at one of the desks in the corner and that someone would be with him shortly. Then Saichō vanished, leaving through a doorway in the corner.
Richard sat down and absorbed the moment, relaxing for the first time that day. Everything he’d done had been performed at a frenetic pace, the kind necessary to reach the monastery’s opening before nightfall. And here he was, deep within the mountain, wondering how he was ever going to locate the cipher and photograph it without getting caught.
Putting the task out of his mind, Richard attempted to enjoy the moment of being able to experience such a rare treat. While the religious element didn’t interest him much, the devotion the monks displayed to an ancient tradition was something he wanted to explore. He loved his own country, and the excitement of creating fresh traditions and blazing new trails appealed to his sense of adventure. But there was something about a practice steeped in hundreds of years of history that intrigued him, too.
A few minutes later, Saichō returned with another monk.
“Mr. Halliburton, I apologize for the delay,” Saichō said. “Our English speakers here are limited, but I found someone who can teach you our ways for the next few days. Hopefully he will be able to answer all your questions.”
“Thank you,” Richard said. “I appreciate your help.”
“Then may I introduce to you, Ito?” Saichō said before exiting the room
Ito bowed, an action Richard mimicked before being handed a robe.
“My own robe,” Richard said as he held it out. “How exciting. Is there a reason for this?”
Ito nodded. “The more we look the same, the more we can focus on enlightenment. Our minds are easily distracted by petty things.”
Ito turned his back, allowing Richard to change. When finished, he twirled around.
“How do I look?” Richard asked.
“Like everyone else,” Ito said. “Now, come. We have chores to do before dinner.”
“Chores?” Richard asked. “Are you aware that I just climbed Mt. Fuji today? I’d rather relax.”
“If you don’t help, you don’t eat,” Ito said. “This is not a holiday. If you are to stay here, you must participate like all the other monks. That is a steadfast rule.”
Richard shrugged as he nestled the bird into his jacket on his bed. “I guess it could be worse. I could be sleeping outside.”
Ito led Richard to a small room. When the door opened, Richard staggered backward, overcome by the rancid odor emanating from inside.
“What is this place?” he asked, fanning away the air in front of his nose.
Ito smiled and chuckled. “Even monks have to poop.”
For the next half hour, Richard struggled as he and Ito cleaned the latrines by removing the waste in buckets. The process seemed to crawl along.
This isn’t how I expected the day to end.
After completing the task, Ito and Richard washed up before the evening meal. Dinner was served in silence, which made it difficult to gather more information for his article, much less learn who the special craftsmen designing and creating the cipher were.
And there was one more question that plagued Richard: Where was Prince Naruhiko?
* * *
THE NEXT TWO DAYS were rather torturous. Being outside in nature was almost as important as breathing. He had to be exploring new worlds, taking new adventures, reveling in new experiences. Sloshing floors with water and scrubbing them with a brush wasn’t exactly the experience he wanted. And while the monks often ventured outside just before daybreak or during dusk, the nasty winter weather kept Richard from enjoying a scenic view from halfway up Mt. Fuji. His time in the monastery was suffocating, making him antsy to escape.
On the third evening after dinner, Saichō approached Richard. “How are you enjoying your time here?”
“It’s certainly not what I expected,” Richard said.
“What did you expect?”
“I guess I thought there would be more chanting and focus on some sort of holy scriptures, not hours upon hours of internal reflection.”
Saichō chuckled. “This isn’t an order of Jesuits. Perhaps your expectations were skewed because you d
idn’t understand that not all monasteries work the same way.”
“That’s a good assessment of the situation.”
“Are you ready to leave?”
“Not yet,” Richard said, searching for the right words to tickle Saichō’s ears. “I feel as though I’m just starting to connect with myself.”
Saichō’s eyes brightened. “Then you’re on your way, my child. Keep walking that path.”
Richard forced a smile, one he held until Saichō turned his back. With only an hour before bedtime, Richard needed to find Bhodi. After a short search, the former samurai was found near the front gate.
“Still watching out for vagrants who wander up the mountain?” Richard asked.
Bhodi turned to face Richard. “You were the first person to walk through those doors in five years. I’m sure my fellow guard barely remembered how to handle the situation. The easiest and most popular trails to the summit are on the other side of the mountain. Only fools come this way.”
Richard held up his right hand. “Guilty as charged.”
“How has your time here been?”
“In a word: dreary,” Richard said. “But I’m adjusting. Meanwhile, I was wondering if you’ve been able to get that thing we were talking about.”
Bhodi nodded. “I’ll bring it back to your room tonight just before lights are out.”
“Excellent,” Richard said. “One more thing.”
“What is it?”
“Do you know where the craftsmen are? I want to speak with them about an idea I have.”
Bhodi furrowed his brow. "I don't think it works like that. The craftsmen work on specially commissioned projects."
“Who commissions them?”
“Other priests within the order, I suppose. Unfortunately, these monasteries don’t support themselves. We have to have a means for making a sufficient amount of money to keep up this way of life.”
Richard sighed. “That’s the last group of people I needed to talk to in order to finish my story.”
“Ask around. I’m sure someone else can help you.”
“The only problem I have with that is most people don’t speak my language, and the monk assigned to me isn’t very helpful.”
“Are you working with Ito?” Bhodi asked.