by Paul Kidd
The Spirit Hunters gathered up their sandals and equipment. Sura hastily ushered the others towards the rear half of the house. She stopped to tip a suave salute to the old man.
“We’ll go out the back way. Thank you!”
The old man frowned. “Eh?”
The Spirit Hunters flitted out through a screen door and off into an alleyway behind the house. Sura paused, checked that the coast was clear, then led her friends off into the woods.
The old tsuba maker watched Sura go. He gave a great, fond, longing sigh.
“Ah, to have a fox in my bed again.” The old man smiled. “Yes indeed!”
He clapped his hands and bustled off to another door, calling out towards his gardens. A gaggle of attractive young women all eagerly appeared. The young concubines all raced to the old man’s side and brought him a brimming cup of sakē.
“My dears! Fetch my medicine! We shall party as though I were sixty again!”
The Eta village was a place of quiet industry throughout the long, hot afternoon. Women worked at looms, or cut millet in the fields. Others patiently cut leather thonging from sections of hide. Up in the trees, cicadas dozed. A few dragonflies skimmed back and forth above the grass, wings whirring softly in the breeze.
Sura, Chiri and Kuno sat beneath a pine tree in the shade. Sura had set aside her straw hat, donning her folded eboshi with white and grass-green cords. With her long-sleeved suikan robe, spear trailing prayer papers and tall fox ears, she was a being of cool, clear mystery.
Tonbo walked from the village, accompanying a fine, upright old woman and a slender young maiden. Sura and her friends rose. The newcomers bowed, and the Spirit Hunters bowed in return. Tonbo turned and performed the introductions.
“Sura san? This is Grandma Pine, the Eta headwoman. And this is Little Sparrow.” Tonbo’s armour rattled slightly as he moved to indicate Sura, Kuno and Chiri. “This is the reibai, Priestess Kitsune Sura. Asodo Kuno, imperial deputy – and Nezumi Chiri, our gentle shugenja.”
Grandma Pine had long hair of purest white, and the most wonderfully creased and weathered skin. She looked at her visitors in all their strangeness. She bowed again with quiet dignity.
“Priestess. We are deeply blessed by your presence. Samurai. Shugenja. You honour us too deeply.”
Kuno bowed to the old woman once again.
“Thank you, honoured grandmother. You are too kind.”
They all walked together through the trees, off towards a forest path. Sura fell in beside Little Sparrow, taking in the young girl’s dark golden skin and fine, high cheek bones. The fox nodded to herself in thought.
“Little Sparrow, please forgive us for prying – but we hope to help you and your family.” The fox gave a long, expressive sweep of her tail. “Tonbo tells me that your mother was murdered?”
Little Sparrow blushed – embarrassed to be talking on such utterly even terms with august company. But she had a fine voice – well-spoken and intelligent. The young woman bobbed her head.
“Yes, honoured priestess!”
“Ha! Just call me Sura.” They had reached a fallen tree. Sura sat herself down, setting herself at ease. “So tell me about your mother. You were there when she died?
“Yes… Sura san.”
“Do you remember anything of your mother and your father, Little Sparrow san?”
The Eta girl looked down. Her fingers tightened in the hem of her robe.
“Very little. Only… feelings.” She bowed her head and closed her eyes, trying to remember. “My father… He was tall and kind. He loved my mother very much. I was happy…”
Her voice fell.
“My mother was very beautiful.”
The fox listened carefully. “And now you live here. You work as a tanner?”
Grandma Pine immediately spoke out. Great pride shone in her voice.
“No, priestess. We keep Little Sparrow away from unclean work. She is special to us. She can read and write. She teaches our children.”
Kuno looked at the girl, impressed by her demeanour.
“Was your father a samurai, Little Sparrow san?”
The girl was calm and clear.
“Yes. I believe so, honoured samurai.”
Tonbo helped Grandma Pine to sit down. The old woman nodded to him in thanks. She leaned on her walking stick and regarded the Spirit Hunters.
“Priestess – shugenja – honoured samurai. Little Sparrow came to us eighteen years ago. Her mother left her with us in hiding. She was one of us – an Eta from the far Tajo valley. We knew her family.”
The old woman heaved a sigh and closed her eyes as she spoke – picturing a scene that had long haunted her nightmares.
“She came to us in the rain and hid the child. She was trying to reach Lord Raiden, racing through the storm. She knew no fear.
“There was lightning – a terrible wind. We followed after her. My husband and I – the elders. We wished to implore her to shelter with us until the storm had passed. But when we heard hooves upon the road, we hid. To our everlasting shame, we hid.”
The old woman rubbed at her eyes.
“A masked samurai was hunting her – waiting for her! A mounted man with armour laced like flame. They spoke for a moment, and she tried to walk past.” Grandma Pine tuned her face away.
“He treacherously slew her – cutting her down from behind. And then for some reason, he branded her body with a criminal’s brand.” The old woman stared at the pine needles on the ground. “We saw it all as we hid nearby. We heard it as she cursed him as she died…”
Chiri gently stroked Daitanishi in her lap. She listened to the tale with sadness in her eyes.
“He just… killed her? Branded her?” The rat nodded softly. “And of course – you did not dare to report the crime. The samurai would have slain you all.”
The old woman clenched her hands. “We were Eta, Nezumi san. We dared not speak. When Lord Raiden’s men found her body, they cast it away, thinking her a criminal. But we buried her here, in honour.” The old woman straightened her shoulders. Her voice was proud.
“We care for Little Sparrow carefully. She is the daughter to the wife of a samurai. That means she is samurai. She is destined for better things than an Eta village.”
Sura perked up her ears.
“You say Little Sparrow’s mother was the wife of a samurai?
“Yes, priestess. I buried the woman with my own hands. Her obi belt was knotted as a wedded woman. A wedded samurai.”
“And the lady’s name?”
Little Sparrow looked up at the fox.
“Sparrow, Sura san. My mother’s name was Sparrow.”
Sura stroked at her chin, pondering the story. She sat back, frowning, folding her arms about her spear.
“What was the curse you mother placed upon the man that slew her?”
Little Sparrow was ashen.
“It was… That he should die by the hand of one who knows true love.”
Sura nodded. She closed her eyes and bowed her head in fierce concentration. Tonbo motioned the others to give Sura her space. They all stood and moved away beneath the trees.
Lord Tado and his people might now be watching the roads and ford, so Tonbo kept the group in cover. Grandma Pine and Little Sparrow looked questioningly over towards Sura, but Tonbo motioned them to be at peace.
Sura finally drew in a deep breath and emerged from her thoughts. She rose to her feet, and walked over to her companions.
“Little Sparrow, my friend. Do you have any keepsakes of your mother?”
The girl put a hand to her breast. “Only the beads I wear. A rosary.”
Tonbo immediately turned. He looked at Sura in alarm.
“No.”
“I am a reibai. I care for all that is living – all that is dead. And I will have my answers.” Sura bowed to Little Sparrow. “My friend – please would you do the honour of showing me to the grave of your mother.”
The two Eta bowed. They beckoned S
ura onward down a path into the forest. As they walked, the fox asked further gentle questions about Little Sparrow’s life. She stopped at a well, filled a bucket with water, and continued to follow the two Eta along the path.
Chiri hung back with Kuno and Tonbo. She put a hand upon Tonbo’s arm.
“Tonbo san – what is Sura doing?”
“Being obstinate!” The man surged forward after Sura, full of concern. “Come. If she needs our help, she will need it swiftly.”
They hastened onwards, as Grandma Pine and Little Sparrow led their visitors into the trees. After a time, the path emerged out into a wide, quiet clearing filled with wandering butterflies.
The Eta graveyard stood over at the far side of the open field. Little Sparrow took the others past the scattered cairns and grave posts, finally stopping beside a post made from oiled red oak.
Several small offerings sat at the base of the post: cooked millet, flowers, and Tonbo’s folded origami sparrow. Little Sparrow ushered Sura quietly over to the grave, and sank down to kneel nearby.
Tonbo turned, carefully scanning the far tree line. His senses prickled, as though he were being watched. The man walked a few paces towards the far tree line, tetsubo in hand. He glowered at the distant underbrush. But nothing moved – the butterflies drifted about quite undisturbed. He drew slowly away, and returned to the graves.
Sura had taken her water bucket and ladle, and began to ritually pour water over the grave post. She walked about the grave post, pouring water to carefully delineate a circle about herself, the grave and Little Sparrow.
Sura knelt down before the grave, whipping her hakama out of the way with a firm crack of one hand, and settled her short sword firmly in her belt. Taking one of the empty offering cups, she cleaned it, then filled it with sakē from her own flask. Placing the cup before the grave post, Sura then drew forth six heavy tubular sticks of incense. A flame appeared in Sura’s open palm, and she lit the incense sticks, whipping her hand past them to extinguish the flames and leave them at a smoulder. She placed the incense beside the grave post, then moved elegantly back.
Sura made a long, slow bow towards the grave. She drew erect, carefully controlled her breathing, and held out one of her hands to Little Sparrow.
“Please do not be afraid.” The fox kept her eyes upon the grave post. “My friend – may I kindly borrow the rosary left to you by your mother?”
The Eta girl bowed. She quietly removed the necklace of beads, and placed them reverently into Sura’s hands.
“Here, Sura san.”
“I thank you, Little Sparrow san.”
Sura carefully placed the beads before the grave.
The fox gracefully arose. She unsheathed her spear and set herself in place, slowly drawing in a breath. Sura walked about the grave post, tracing a circle just above the ground. The path scribed by the spear shimmered with a stark, ghostly light.
Sura enclosed herself and Little Sparrow within the circle. The fox touched the grave post with her spear. Grave post, beads and the magic circle instantly blazed with light.
“I bow to the celestial heavens. I command the guardians of the gate to turn aside! I beg forgiveness for opening the way.”
Sura swirled, long spear flashing, then swept Leaf Cutter’s orange blade straight down. A rift was sliced into the fabric between worlds – a hole that gaped through into the Realm of the Honoured Dead. A soft light drifted from the rift, bringing with it the scent of flowers. The air inside the circle slowly stirred. Sura set herself before the rift and opened her arms. She called through the rift, shouting into the other world.
“I call to Sparrow! Mother of Little Sparrow!
Spirit of the honoured realm.
Soul of our beloved dead.
This one calls you forth in honour.
This one calls you to her heart.
Cross the veil, behold your loved ones.
Cross into the mortal light.
Lady Sparrow, hear us calling!
Come now into mortal sight!”
A swirl of strange, ghostly shapes appeared at the far side of the rift. Spirits crowded curiously into the opening between the worlds. Sura held up a painted paper fu, blocking the spirits from exiting. She searched through the rift, then saw one spirit shining brighter than the rest.
The spirit came swirling and shimmering forth out of the rift, spreading out great coils of brilliant light. Outside the circle, Grandmother Pine, Kuno and Chiri all stared in wonder. Tonbo watched carefully, his armour glinting in the spirit light.
Little Sparrow watched in awe as the spirit hovered in the air. Sura set down her spear, then walked forward to the spirit, opening her arms in welcome.
“Lady Sparrow…”
The drifting spirit suddenly gathered itself and plunged straight into Sura. The fox jerked and fell to the ground, arching and thrashing. The spirit flashed glowing tendrils out to flood through Sura’s limbs.
“Sura!”
Chiri lunged forwards. Kuno leapt to try and rescue the fox, but Tonbo held them back. He pulled Chiri back from the shimmering wall of magic, and signalled Little Sparrow to keep in her place.
“Don’t cross the circle! You’ll open the barrier!”
Tonbo kept close to the magical circle, horribly afraid for Sura. They all watched in shock as the fox clawed wildly at the ground.
Sura felt the alien spirit coursing through her. Memories from another life flashed past her eyes. They came in a wild rush, burning as they seared through her mind.
- She felt herself as a young woman, meeting a starving, ailing ronin in the woods. She took the young man under her arm, lifting him – helping him onwards, on towards shelter.
- There was a wrench as time flew past. She lay in bed in a humble hut, feeling battered – exhausted – elated. The young ronin was there beside her, holding her. Between them, they cradled their newborn baby boy…
- Time whipped past in a sickening swoop. Horrible sadness and despair wrenched through her. Suddenly it was night-time. The young ronin lay in Sura’s arms, running with sweat – fading and dying from fever. Suddenly a tall samurai bust in through the door – wet, travel stained and wild. He looked at the young ronin, appalled by his state. The newcomer raced over to hold the dying man’s hand. They spoke together, both of them clearly friends. The dying ronin put Sura’s hand into the other man’s grasp…
- They buried the young ronin together. Sparrow – Sura – prayed at the young man’s grave. Weeping, she held her three year old son as the tall, handsome samurai bowed to his friend’s grave. He came and raised Sparrow to her feet…
Time wrenched sickeningly past once more. Sura was wearing fine robes and sitting in a comfortable rustic house. There was calligraphy on the walls, and a suit of armour stored upon a stand. The tall samurai entered – his face warm and comforting. He sank down beside Sura, and caressed her face. She kissed him – wonderfully in love…
- Sparrow was pregnant once again. Her wonderful samurai was there beside her. Together, they wrote their names upon a slip of paper – the names of Sparrow’s child, and her child to be. They placed locks of their own hair inside the strip of paper, and folded it tight. Sparrow’s husband had a disassembled short sword on a table before them – a weapon with a gorgeously watered blade. The folded paper was handed to an artisan, who laid it against the wooden handle, then wrapped it carefully with the belly skin of a stingray. The handle was taken off to be wrapped with cord and then fitted onto the short sword, to nestle against its fine new tsuba.
- Their sword! Their family sword!
The spirit blazed bright. Sura sat up and looked about herself in astonishment. She looked at Little Sparrow, and her eyes filled with absolute love.
“Daughter!”
Little Sparrow looked up at Sura in timid hope.
“Mother?”
Sura folded Little Sparrow in her arms. They embraced, weeping. Sura finally pulled away and caressed Little Sparrow’s face, look
ing at her in wonder.
“So beautiful. You grew up to be so beautiful.” Sura suddenly seemed sad. “I waited by the gate, but he never came. My Phoenix never came…”
She looked down at Little Sparrow, caressing her tearful face. “I have watched over you, daughter. But I never knew you were so beautiful…” She wiped away Little Sparrow’s tears. “Do not cry, daughter. I loved – I loved twice, and was loved in return. I bought you life, and so my own was well spent.”
She frowned once again.
“My Yukio was there. But my Phoenix was not. We waited for him, but he never came…”
Little Sparrow clung to Sura and wept. Sura turned to Grandma Pine, who watched in amazement from outside of the circle. The spirit shimmered within Sura, making her voice echo as if heard from afar.
“Grandma Pine. I thank you. For all your care, I thank you.”
Grandma Pine bowed, crying loving tears.
“Sparrow san. We have been honoured by your trust in us.”
“A true heart is a jewel indeed.”
Sura looked up as though hearing a voice inside her. She wilted, and then nodded a reluctant agreement. She spoke to something inside herself.
