Yamada Monogatari: The War God's Son

by Richard Parks

  “One usually finds what one troubles to look for.”

  Lady Kuzunoha smiled then, a wistful smile. It did not last long. “I have not forgotten my earlier promise, nor will I do so,” she said slowly, “but I will think about what you have said.”

  She took two steps into the trees, and in one moment she was no longer there. I went back to where Kenji was waiting.

  “Have you accomplished anything?” he asked.

  “I didn’t get my throat torn out,” I said. “Which feels like accomplishment enough for the moment.”

  “I haven’t sensed anything along the trail,” Kenji said, “but I did manage to gather a little more information while you were chatting with Lord Yoshiie today.”

  “More like trying not to fall off my horse and being chatted at. He mostly wanted to talk about Prince Kanemore and why shikigami didn’t like saké. He at once managed to dominate the conversation and yet clearly didn’t attach great importance to it. Whatever his strategies might be, he’s keeping them to himself. So. What did you find out?”

  “Not a lot,” Kenji admitted, “because no one seems to know a lot. As soon as we skirt Lake Biwa tomorrow, we’ll pick up the Tōsandō and be on the Eastern Mountain road until it runs out.”

  “There’s a reason Mutsu is often called ‘the land beyond the road,’ ” I said. “Regardless, despite the uproar they caused in the Sixth Ward, this is not a very large force—Yoshiie cannot be planning on taking the fight back to the Abe with no more men than these and the ones under his father’s command. I doubt the Kiyohara alone will be enough of an addition.”

  “A contingent from Kawachi will be joining us in a day or two, I’m told, all Minamoto bushi. We’ll pass through half a dozen provinces before Mutsu. Yoshiie has the Imperial Writ, so he expects to pick up allies along the way.”

  “In other words, there will be bushi from several different clan branches joining the cause. It will also be a perfect opportunity for agents of the Abe Clan to infiltrate.” I said. “No one will think twice of meeting someone unfamiliar to them.”

  “Yes, and there’s nothing we can do about it,” Kenji said cheerfully. “Chances are very good we are doomed . . . or Yoshiie is, which is pretty much the same thing. If we reach Dewa at all, it will be a miracle.”

  “We will not be at full strength until then, and by even approaching the barrier at Dewa, we are practically on the Abe’s western doorstep. Do you think for one moment Abe no Sadato and his onmyoji don’t know we’re coming? You heard what Prince Kanemore said—Yoshiie is their prime target. The events of the last two weeks bear this out.”

  Kenji grinned. “I did mention ‘doomed,’ did I not?”

  In reality it took four more days for the reinforcements from the Minamoto stronghold in Kawachi to arrive. Our path then went beyond Lake Biwa through Mino and then on to Shinano and the mountain road. The governor of the province met us near the border and added two score mounted archers to our number before wishing us a speedy journey. Nor did I blame the man—not all provisions could be brought along, and the required foraging and requisitioning for even a relatively small army was always disruptive and costly for the folk around it. Even if the army in question wasn’t an enemy bent on destruction, destruction was going to happen. Lord Yoshiie maintained tight discipline, and I was pleased to see he attempted to keep the worst incidents to a minimum until we reached the mountain road, after which there were very few opportunities for . . . misunderstandings, with the locals. The governor had spread the word of our coming and the road was mostly deserted. However, I wasn’t pleased with the notion that every cotter and rice farmer in Shinano knew of our movements. I expressed my concern to Lord Yoshiie, but he just shrugged it off.

  “Have you ever tried to hide an army and recruit for it at the same time, Lord Yamada? Because if you know the secret, I’d be pleased to hear of it,” he said, and that was the end of the discussion.

  While the going was treacherous along the road itself, the scenery was quite striking—we were within view of the peak of Mount Kyodai, and it was hard to keep from being distracted. I imagined it would have been even harder in the fall season, with the leaves of the maple trees turned to flame instead of their current brilliant green. I rode ahead some distance while Kenji, to the degree the narrow trail allowed, rode up and down the sides of the column, his priestly senses searching for danger.

  I heard hoofbeats and then Lord Yoshiie was beside me. He was not in full armor, but he was wearing his chest piece and helmet. With his golden half-moon maedate on his helmet and his war bow and quiver of yellow-fletched arrows, he struck quite a figure. Not for the first time, I had the feeling I was somehow glimpsing the future, but whether Lord Yoshiie’s future or simply something greater than all of us, I didn’t know, nor did I concern myself overmuch with the feeling. I did not discount such intuitions, but at the same time I’d never found much practical value in prophecy when all my problems were usually rooted in the here and now.

  “I have sent out scouts on the ridge above and in front, Lord Yamada,” he said. “And it is my considered opinion no one is going to be climbing the mountainside to attack us.”

  “With all respect, Yoshiie-sama, a human certainly could not.”

  “Ah. You’re thinking of more of those creatures like we fought in the wine-shop,” he said. “They are strong, I will admit, but not so strong.”

  “Creatures such as those, yes,” I said, “and possibly worse things besides. Forgive me, but until I know for certain what we are dealing with, I would prefer to take no chances with your life or the success of the Emperor’s edict.”

  Yoshiie’s visage darkened for a moment, and I considered perhaps I had gone too far. I was used to working, if not completely on my own thanks to Kenji, at least with smaller numbers. Except for Prince Kanemore himself, bushi were outside my experience, and Yoshiie was a man not used to having his methods questioned even by implication, and certainly not by someone of my insignificant status. But he finally grunted something noncommittal and withdrew back to the column. The message, however, was clear enough—my axis of free action was not to be unlimited, nor was my judgment even in matters of the onmyoji to go unquestioned. I was Prince Kanemore’s agent, not one of Yoshiie’s trusted generals, just as Lord Yasuna was a hostage, despite whatever gratitude Yoshiie may have felt toward us. I knew it would be wise not to forget either. After a good look around, I rode back to the column and found Kenji.

  “Nothing?” I asked.

  Kenji scowled. “Nothing at all. Not a scent, a feeling, nor a whisper.”

  “You look disappointed.”

  “Surprised, rather. For an enemy who could arrange an ambush on a mountainside as easily as a tavern, this place is ideal—there is no room to maneuver, or to bring up aid if needed. Twenty shikigami could hide in the ridge above, swoop down and push the vanguard right off the mountain, and Lord Yoshiie with it. If the enemy does not do what you expect, you can take it for granted he will do something you do not.”

  Kenji’s fears echoed my own, but I was trying to view the problem from both sides. “Onmyoji are not so common that Lord Sadato could have such agents in every domain we pass. The bulk of them would remain under his physical control, or he’s a fool. This was simply one wasted opportunity. Which doesn’t mean all such will be wasted.”

  “You can wager Lord Sadato will give Lord Tenshin free reign to attack at some point, and at the place and moment of his own choosing,” Kenji said.

  “He will have an advantage no matter what, and he’d be a fool not to use it. I would,” I said. “In his place.”

  Kenji glanced up the trail. “At least we’ll be past the larger mountains by the time we approach Shinano’s border with Echigo. After which the path to Dewa will be much less rugged.”

  “Less rugged perhaps, but still mountainous,” I said. “And still plenty of places for an enemy to hide. Not to mention it’s closer to Mutsu and Lord Tenshin’s current base of ope
rations.”

  “Doomed,” Kenji said.

  “You keep saying that.”

  “And I will continue to do so,” Kenji said serenely, “until you prove me wrong.”

  “Or we die?”

  “Really, Lord Yamada . . . and you say I’m the gloomy one. I have faith in you.”

  I’m glad he did. Personally, I wasn’t certain I was up for the challenge.

  When the bushi assigned to scouting returned and reported they had found nothing, I breathed a little easier. There was still the small matter of approaching so close to Mutsu before turning northwest for Dewa, but after observing Lord Yoshiie’s precautions, I was certain he was not being careless in the least. I should not have been surprised—he could not have been as reckless as he first seemed, or he wouldn’t have lived to see his twenties. He also knew what shikigami were capable of, having fought them personally on two different occasions. Plus, he had taken this same road from and to the North more than once. If there happened to be a good spot for an ambush along the road, chances were Yoshiie already knew about it. That he had seen no reason to explain any of this to me was a little annoying. I understood his mission was to defeat the Abe, but mine was to keep him alive long enough to complete it. I’d have preferred his cooperation, rather than his mere tolerance of my presence. For the moment, it was enough that there had been no attacks, and the army was making good progress through Shinano. At our current rate, we’d reach the Echigo barrier in a couple of days at most, and that province was, if anything, more securely in its local governor’s hands than Shinano. Surely there would be no cause for concern there, even if it shared part of its northeast border with Mutsu.

  As soon as the notion occurred, I found myself repeating my own advice—“It’s not the snake on the rock that kills you. It’s the one in the grass you didn’t see.”

  There was a lot of grass still between Lord Yoshiie and Dewa.

  In the evening, the moon—a mere crescent when we left the capital—was now in its full glory. I found a spot in a small clump of pines. It was a little too near a sheer drop of several hundred feet to a valley below, but it afforded a marvelous view of the moon floating over the mountains. I was soon joined by Kenji and, somewhat to my surprise, Lord Yasuna. None of us said anything for a good long while. The night had started off clear, but now dark clouds were pushing in and the moon was temporarily shrouded.

  “What do you think of Lord Yoshiie, Yamada-sama?” Lord Yasuna asked.

  That was a little more deference than I was used to, especially from someone of Lord Yasuna’s rank, but the question was one I’d been considering for some time. “He is a skilled warrior and strategist. I cannot imagine him living at Court,” I said finally.

  Lord Yasuna grunted. “There was a time when living at Court would have been all that mattered. Now I can imagine a time when this will not be the case.”

  If Kenji understood the reference, he kept it to himself. I was pretty certain I did. “I see you’ve been speaking with Prince Kanemore.”

  Lord Yasuna smiled. “Prince Kanemore may be unique among the royal family in that he sees the storm which is clearly coming.”

  I liked and respected Lord Yasuna, but if there was a more dangerous pastime than discussing politics with a member of the Emperor’s Court, I wasn’t sure what it might be. Fighting an oni probably came closest, but the beauty of such a competition was that the worst an oni could do to you would be to kill you.

  “What storm are you referring to, Lord Yasuna?”

  He smiled then. “Honestly . . . I rather think what Kyoto thinks of any of this is the least of our problems at the moment, Lord Yamada. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  “For the moment? Certainly. But the moment will pass, bringing another behind it. Even so, yes, I am well aware of Prince Kanemore’s opinions. There was a time when emperors led their armies into battle, but those days are long past, and no one expects them to return. If the Emperor’s will is to be enforced, then it will be men like Yoshiie who will enforce it.”

  “There was a time when Lord Sadato did the same. Until he, like his father, realized where the real power lay. It is to the Minamoto Clan’s advantage to oppose the Abe. What if it had been to the Minamoto’s advantage to join with them? What would the Emperor have done then?”

  “Fortunately for all concerned, I am not the Emperor.”

  Lord Yasuna laughed then. “It is really a pity you left the Court so soon, Lord Yamada,” he said. “You would have done well there.”

  I wasn’t certain if I was being complimented or insulted. Knowing Lord Yasuna as I did, I considered it might be a little of both. Kenji, who until now had kept silent, spoke up.

  “Rewards and punishments only go so far. If the clans become more loyal to themselves than they are to the Emperor, we could see the situation in Mutsu repeated throughout the land.”

  Lord Yasuna looked thoughtful. “Shall I tell you gentlemen a secret? It has some bearing on our current situation.”

  That was the hook, and I rose to the bait, as Lord Yasuna doubtless knew I would, but there was no help for it. I didn’t know nearly enough about our situation, and any one of the things I did not know could get Lord Yoshiie and the rest of us killed.

  “I am always glad to hear what you have to say.”

  “The Minamoto have been fighting this war, off and on, for nearly twelve years,” Lord Yasuna said. “If the Minamoto and the Taira had joined forces, they would have crushed the Abe long ago. Why has this not been arranged?”

  “The Emperor’s government has promised the Abe’s place in Mutsu to the Minamoto if they succeed, with the promise of the spoils of war to reward those who have chosen to join the Minamoto cause. That is an inducement to ordinary bushi, certainly, but hardly an incentive to the great and powerful Taira. What does the Emperor’s government have to offer them?” Kenji asked.

  “The governorship of Mutsu, for a start,” Lord Yasuna said. “The previous holder of the position hasn’t demonstrated much aptitude. Remember, the Minamoto will merely be appointed military commanders of the province, just as the Abe were, so there are more rewards available if needed. This alliance could have been arranged.”

  “And your secret is why it was not?” I asked.

  Lord Yasuna shook his head. “The secret is the Emperor himself favored such an alliance. Prince Kanemore was one of those who opposed this idea, and he is primarily the reason it was not implemented.”

  “Because he knew it was not in the Court’s best interests to demonstrate to the Minamoto and Taira such an alliance was possible?”

  “Well and discreetly put, Lord Yamada. Aside from loyalty—not to be discounted—the thing which keeps the military families under Imperial control is they distrust each other far more than they distrust the Emperor’s government.”

  Lord Yasuna didn’t bother to express the potential consequences should that situation ever change. He didn’t need to do so. Instead he apparently turned his attention back to the glorious full moon. I was content to do the same. When Lord Yasuna spoke again, I assumed he would be returning to the previous subject, so I was not prepared for what came next. I don’t see how I could have been in any case.

  “We’ll be passing near the village of Yahiko,” he said. “Are you going to visit your sister?”

  For a moment I was too stunned to say anything, but Kenji was not.

  “Lord Yamada, what is he talking about?”

  Lord Yasuna shrugged. “I must apologize, for I assumed you knew. Lord Yamada has two sisters living. One older, one younger. The elder is a nun in the temple complex near Yahiko, Yahiko-ji. Yahiko-jinja, the shrine of the gods, is better known, compared to the temple. Your sister could not have chosen a more obscure place to retire from the world.”

  “Apparently not so obscure,” I observed finally. “Lord Yasuna, how did you know this?”

  “Back when I needed your assistance in the . . . domestic, matter, I made it a point to find out as m
uch about you as I could. I am a cautious man, Lord Yamada. Forgive me, but a man in my position has to be so.”

  Kenji glared at me. “Honestly, Lord Yamada, I thought we were friends.”

  “We are, not that either of us deserves one,” I said. “But look at the matter from my perspective, Kenji-san—my father was executed as a traitor to the Emperor. To this day there are those who believe the charges were true. Plus I have made quite a few enemies all on my own. For their protection, it was best that as few people knew of my siblings’ existence as possible. I must commend Lord Yasuna’s initiative in discovering them.”

  “Again, I must apologize to you,” Lord Yasuna said. “I should have realized.”

  “I understand,” I said, “yet perhaps now you will not think it strange that I intend to keep my distance from the temple . . . as much as I would like to see Lady Rie again. And Kenji, I will ask your pardon as well and hope you understand.”

  Kenji’s anger hadn’t entirely passed, but he managed a grudging, “Well, if I had a sister, I probably wouldn’t tell me either. Even if she was a nun.”

  I grunted. “Do not think this did not occur to me.”

  After that, and until the clouds rolled in for good, we concentrated on the moon and said nothing at all. It seemed the safest course for all concerned.

  CHAPTER SIX

  There were no incidents in our progress through Shinano. That is to say there were no attacks such as normal travelers might expect on a well-traveled but still isolated roadway, though such an attack certainly seemed less likely on a company as well-armed as ourselves. Any human bandits in the area clearly had the sense to avoid us entirely, but on the night before we were due to reach the Echigo barrier, several ragged thieves were caught attempting to pilfer our supply wagons. Lord Yoshiie had their heads mounted on poles by the roadside, and their bodies unceremoniously dumped over the side of the mountain road. The task was complete before he finished his evening meal. Soon after, I found our young horse groom, whose name I barely remembered to be Taro, losing his own meal by the side of the road in sight of the grim display. He stood up and wiped his chin as I approached. He couldn’t have been more than fourteen or fifteen, about the age Lord Yoshiie had been when he first went to war with the Abe. I hadn’t paid Taro much attention before, probably because I didn’t associate with the horses more than I had to. Now I saw only a frightened young man.