Then an idea came to him. He packed up his belongings and doused his fire.
“Let’s go,” he said.
Akao regarded him for a moment, and then followed him down the path toward the village.
* * *
One of Norikage’s greatest pleasures was reading the work of the Chinese classical poet Li Houzhu. Today it helped him keep his mind off Ken’ishi’s absence. Where was he? Norikage tried to focus on the graceful calligraphy and the eloquent words for the dozenth time when he heard a step outside the constabulary office. He looked out expectantly and was rewarded with a sight he had been hoping for since the previous afternoon.
“Ken’ishi!” Norikage exclaimed. “How good to see you! When you did not return last night I feared the worst.” The young warrior was a bit dirty and tired-looking, but seemed otherwise well.
Ken’ishi sat down across the desk from him, his face taciturn. “I think I found something.”
“Truly? Splendid! Splendid! What happened?”
“We searched the woods all day, but found nothing, so we went back to the pond where I thought Tetta might have gone fishing. When we searched the area, we found Gorobei’s corpse, half in the water, hidden in the some rushes. It looked as if something had been . . . feeding on it.”
“How revolting! A wolf? A demon? Did you see what it was?”
Ken’ishi shook his head. “Something that lives in the water. It was watching me. I fell asleep, and it was coming for me, but I awoke before it could reach me.”
“Did you see it?”
“No. It was too fast.”
“Terrible!” Norikage said, studying Ken’ishi intently. The normally stolid, dependable Ken’ishi looked as if he had seen a hungry ghost. Perhaps acting as live bait frightened him more than he expected.
“We waited there all night, but it only happened once.”
“You look tired. Go home and sleep where you are safe.”
Ken’ishi nodded. “I have a plan.”
“We can discuss what to do after you are rested.”
“Very well.” With that, Ken’ishi departed.
Norikage was left stroking his chin. If only he had access to a library or a learned scholar who might be able to make sense of Ken’ishi’s tale. Dealing with this problem was bound to be dangerous. Something had almost attacked him. But what was it?
His wandering gaze drifted out the window of his office, and he spied Kiosé carrying a large bucket full of water. She saw Ken’ishi walking back to his house, but he had not seen her. She stopped, and Norikage saw the look of forlorn adoration on her face as she watched him go. She took half a step toward him, then stopped and cast her gaze down onto the dirt. Norikage felt fresh pity for her. She knew she could never have Ken’ishi all for herself. He felt pity for the child as well, who would be born as both a bastard and a burden. Gonta had not been pleased about Kiosé’s condition. He made her work harder now, to make up for the work she would not be able to do after the baby was born. As a result, she spent much less time at Ken’ishi’s house lately.
Ken’ishi entered his house without noticing her presence, and when he had gone, she sighed and continued on with her bucket.
“Poor thing,” Norikage said, shaking his head.
* * *
A few hours later, Norikage sat in his house and fanned himself against the afternoon’s thick, wet heat. Ken’ishi came in, looking rested and hearty, as if he had put his fear behind him. “You look much better!” Norikage said.
“We need to discuss what to do. I have a plan, but I need your help.”
Norikage sat up straight, with a sudden tingle of uneasiness. “What is it?”
“The thing, the creature, whatever it is we seek, is crafty. It recognized that I could fight against it, unlike poor Gorobei and Tetta. It waited until I was asleep to approach me. Therefore, to lure it into the open, we must offer it defenseless prey. But it is fast. Fast enough to move back into the reeds after I woke up. Anything that moves that fast could be upon me before I could get my weapons out of hiding. I cannot be the bait in my own trap.” Ken’ishi’s gaze fixed on Norikage.
Norikage swallowed hard. “But I cannot do it! I would be helpless!”
“That’s the point. But I would be hidden nearby to protect you.”
“But I would be in danger!” The strength drained out of his arms. If he had been standing up, his knees might have wobbled. “I am no warrior!”
“That’s why you’re perfect. You’re a defenseless weakling. A perfect target.”
“Defenseless weakling indeed! I have little strength in physical stature, but. . . .” He tapped his forehead sharply. “. . . I am intelligent enough to avoid danger!”
Ken’ishi stayed calm in the face of Norikage’s outburst. He even had a faint smirk on his lips! “You have a good head. So you should be able to see the value of my plan.”
“Perhaps it is a good plan. But pick someone else to use as bait! There has to be someone else.”
“Who would you suggest? Kiosé?” Ken’ishi’s voice was even, dispassionate.
“Of course not!”
Ken’ishi relaxed a bit. “Then who in the village would help us?”
Norikage shifted uncomfortably. “If it’s an evil spirit in the pond, could we commission a priest to purify the pond, to drive it out?”
“Is it not proper for the village administrator to be present when this threat is dealt with? It would look better on you if you were there, not cowering at home.”
“Are you certain your sword can kill whatever it is? What if it is a spirit?”
“It’s not a spirit. It left tracks in the mud and parted the reeds by its passing. I have slain an oni with this weapon. If it can be killed, I can kill it.”
“Somehow, that does not help me feel better about this. Could I not hide with you, lay in ambush?”
Ken’ishi shook his head. “You can’t sit still for long enough. Sometimes you fidget like a child. You would betray our presence. Have some courage! That’s all you need! I will protect you.”
Norikage began to rub his chin. “Let me think about it.”
“There’s no time to think about it! I have already wasted half the day sleeping. By the time we reach the pond, the day will be gone. And I must approach the pond in hiding, which takes more time. It must not know of my presence.”
Norikage sighed. The young man’s words had weight and sense. He had thought his plan through. “Very well. ‘Have courage,’ you say. Very well. I will have courage. But if you allow me to be killed, I will forever haunt you!” He said the last with a smile on his face, but it was only a mask to hide his fear. He still quailed from the thought of putting himself in harm’s way. He only hoped that Ken’ishi’s strength and prowess were enough when whatever was in the pond came for him.
* * *
By nightfall, their ambush was ready. Nestled in a large bush overlooking the bank of the pond, hidden from view by leaves and shadows, Ken’ishi held his bow with an arrow nocked. From his vantage point about thirty paces away, he watched Norikage sitting beside the small fire, near the spot where Ken’ishi camped the night before. Akao was not to be left out. He waited beside Ken’ishi, silent and unmoving as the statue of a guardian fox. His bright eyes scanned the darkness and his sensitive nose tasted the air.
Norikage looked toward the pond every few heartbeats, and Ken’ishi saw the tightness of controlled fear on his face, in his shoulders. As Ken’ishi predicted, Norikage could not sit still. He fidgeted with his hands, his clothes, his mustache, and Ken’ishi watched him with amusement. He hummed a tuneless melody, dug small trenches in the soft earth with a dry stick, looked nervously toward the dark water. Ken’ishi was pleased, however, that Norikage did not betray his position by looking toward his hiding place.
For hours, Ken’ishi watched him fret and fuss about the campfire, and he also watched the reeds at the water’s edge. His ears were cocked for any sound of movement in the water. Fro
m time to time, the wet plop of a fish or a frog would spin Norikage about, his eyes wide, almost glowing as they searched the darkness. Ken’ishi sighed and shook his head. This was not going to work. Norikage was too worried about attack to make himself a good piece of bait. But then, finally, after a few long hours, he seemed to calm himself, and lay down beside the fire.
Akao rested his head on his paws, his pointed ears still twitching and turning at every sound.
The shadowy wall of rushes flickered with orange firelight and pitch-black shadows. The play of shadow and light tricked his eyes, always appearing to be moving, shifting.
Norikage rolled onto his side, with his back to the water, snoring softly.
But Ken’ishi’s eyes were not playing tricks when a strange face parted the reeds. Two reptilian yellow eyes glowed in the firelight. He had never seen anything like this creature. Its face resembled a strange mix of both a monkey and a tortoise, smaller than a human’s, with a broad, flat head. No, not a flat head, an indented head, like a bowl in its pate, with a bit of water pooled in the indentation. A crown of glistening black hair ringed the indentation. It had a wide mouth in a snout like a monkey’s, two narrow slits for nostrils, and thick, muscular lips parted to reveal a mouthful of thin, needle-like teeth. Was it grinning?
It dashed into view, moving on two short legs with a quick, scuttling walk. Its body was rounded like that of a tortoise walking upright, covered in a mottled, green shell, but despite all the features of a tortoise, the creature still left the impression of a monkey as well, with its incredible quickness and its cautious, furtive movements.
Scuttling up the bank, it snatched Norikage’s foot with a scaly, monkey-like paw. Norikage awoke with a startled yelp. Before Ken’ishi could even draw his bow, the creature had dragged the constable halfway to the water. Norikage squealed. Ken’ishi drew his bow and released just as the creature disappeared into the reeds with its prey. The arrow flew into the foliage and disappeared, but Ken’ishi heard it strike home, with a sound like hitting a tree. Then Norikage was jerked out of sight into the reeds, shrieking in terror. Dark, murky water splashed and sprayed. Norikage’s cry silenced with a gurgle.
Ken’ishi lunged from his hiding place, leaving his weapons behind. A sword and bow would be useless in the water. He tore through the reeds into pitch-blackness. The vegetation shielded the water from the light of the fire, and the moon had not yet risen. He followed the thrashing noises and dived in, churning toward the sound. He dived under the surface, groping in the murky blackness. Suddenly a warm hand clamped onto his forearm. He grasped the wrist and hauled toward the surface, kicking feverishly. A powerful tug jerked both of them back toward the bottom. He pulled hard, feeling Norikage struggling as well, but the other man’s movements were weakening. Then suddenly the pull on Norikage disappeared, and Ken’ishi dragged him up. They both gasped and choked as they broke the surface, sucking in the sweet night air.
A painful, steel-hard claw gripped Ken’ishi’s foot and dragged him under, toward the bottom of the pond where it could drown him and feed upon him at its leisure. He groped for the paw holding his foot, his hand clamping around the creature’s small, rock-hard arm, squeezing its thick, scaly flesh. He wrenched its grip from his foot, but the other paw clenched around his wrist. For an eternity, the two combatants blindly struggled in the blackness, tearing away grips and finding new holds, grasping, striking. Ken’ishi’s chest began to burn. More than once, the feathered wooden shaft of his arrow embedded in the creature’s shell brushed against him. His strength was fading, but his enemy’s seemed inexhaustible. He pummeled his fist uselessly against the creature’s iron-hard skull, his fingers gouging for a soft place to cause pain. Then his clawing fingers dug into the indentation on the creature’s pate, gripping, squeezing. Through his fingers, he felt the creature stiffen and convulse, and suddenly he was free. For an instant, he considered pressing his advantage, but his breath was gone. After a last clenching squeeze to the ridge of the creature’s indentation, he kicked back toward the surface. It seemed he would never reach blessed air again before his lungs burst. But then he exploded upon the surface, gasping for breath, thrashing for the shore. He glimpsed Norikage’s silhouette standing in the shallows, dripping, wringing his hands, his wide eyes gleaming in the near darkness. Norikage’s hand on his wrist dragged him toward the shore. Akao dashed back and forth behind him, barking and snarling and whining.
In moments, they were back on solid land, streaming water. Ken’ishi bent over, hands on his knees gasping for breath.
Akao jumped upon him, barking and laughing, tail thrashing like a miller’s flail. “Alive!”
Ken’ishi choked out a quick reply, “Yes, I’m alive.”
The dog spun once in a circle, tail wagging with such frenzy that the dog’s hindquarters shook.
Norikage said, “Are you injured?”
Ken’ishi shook his head.
“It is good that you’re a strong swimmer!”
Ken’ishi nodded. “I’ve always been a good swimmer. Do you know what that was?”
“I think it was a kappa!” Norikage said.
“Yes, a kappa! My teacher sometimes spoke of them. He said they were—”
“Excuse me, sirs,” said a strange, sibilant voice.
Ken’ishi, Akao, and Norikage whirled toward the voice and stared at the creature standing just outside the reeds about ten paces away. Akao snarled and bared his teeth, but a whine tinged his voice.
It stood with its small, clawed hands clasped humbly before it, standing as high as Norikage’s chest. Ken’ishi’s arrow still protruded from its back. “You have defeated me.” Its voice was high-pitched, like a child’s, with a disquieting hiss. “I apologize for my attack. If you would be so kind as to remove your arrow from my back, I swear I will leave this place and never trouble you again. My arms are too short, you see. . . .”
Norikage and Ken’ishi looked at each other, then at the creature. Its mottled, reptilian eyes were impossible to read.
Finally, Ken’ishi managed to speak. “Are you a kappa?” He stood and faced the creature.
“I am a kappa.”
“Very well, I will pull out the arrow.” He bowed low, politely.
The kappa bowed as well, spilling the water from the indentation on top of its head. When it straightened, its eyes widened, its shoulders slumped, and the corners of its mouth turned pitifully downward. “Drat,” it said. It seemed deflated somehow.
Ken’ishi circled warily behind it, braced his foot against the smooth shell, grasped the arrow with both hands, and pulled. The kappa hissed in pain as the arrow came out, the tip smeared with dark red blood.
Ken’ishi backed away. “Now, keep your promise. You swore an oath to leave this place and never trouble us again. Go.”
The kappa nodded forlornly, sighed, then trudged off into the darkness of the forest. They watched it until it was out of sight, lost in the shadows of the trees and undergrowth.
When it was gone, Norikage said, “What happened? I missed something.”
“It was planning to attack me when I attempted to pull the arrow out. A kappa’s bite is venomous.”
“But it swore—”
“When I was a child, my teacher told me that kappa are polite but treacherous creatures. Its offer was a ruse meant to draw me near enough that it could bite me.”
“So then why did it not bite you?”
“Because when a kappa loses the water from the indentation in its head, it loses its power. Only then was it truly defeated.”
“You tricked it!”
Ken’ishi said nothing, walking toward his former hiding place to retrieve his weapons.
“Ken’ishi, I underestimated you, I think.”
Ken’ishi shrugged. “Now I think the village is truly safe.”
Akao’s tail wagged again. He had not taken his eyes from the spot where the kappa disappeared. The dog padded toward the spot, sniffed the ground once, then looked int
o the forest and gave one last triumphant bark, as if to say, “And don’t come back!”
Fifteen
Gazing at falling
Petals, a baby almost
Looks like a Buddha
—Kubutsu
Ken’ishi sat on a fallen log with his back against a tree, listening to the cold wind rustling the blood-red maple leaves and whispering through the forest, hearing the cries of anguish and grunts of exertion coming from the small hut a few paces away.
There had been no more disappearances in the months since he had driven the kappa away. The villagers’ respect for him was renewed, if grudgingly. Strange effigies of straw and old linen that looked like strange octopi, or oni, or samurai, designed to frighten away kappa, had been hung around all the houses. The effigies must have been effective; after all, there had been no more kappa attacks since then.
This hut was old and ill kept. No one lived there. It had only one purpose, a place for women of the village to bear their children. Women gave birth in it to prevent the blood of the birth from polluting their homes. Most of the families contributed to its upkeep, but since they were poor, the hut was little more than a drafty, thatched shed on the village outskirts.
The voice of Tetta’s wife, Naoko—how she had changed since Tetta’s disappearance, asserting control over both Gonta and the inn with an iron will—encouraged and coaxed and praised Kiosé for her efforts, Kiosé who now gasped and strained in the throes of childbirth. Many of the village women resented allowing Kiosé to use the birthing hut because she was a whore, not even a true human being. But Ken’ishi and Norikage, and now Naoko, had been unanimous in silencing them.
They made a strange foursome, Ken’ishi thought. Akao and Norikage and Kiosé and himself. All of them were outcasts in their own ways, and at the same time, all of them had been accepted here in their own ways. Even the hatred fomented by Chiba and his brothers had subsided, sinking back into the trials and tasks of daily life. Perhaps they simply could not bring themselves to abuse a woman who was with child.
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