Master Kagyo scowled. “I knew it! The wretch is bowing to that creature!”
“In respect,” I said, knowing it was so. “Which is no less than she deserves. Not in worship.”
“I still say she’s going to boil him,” Kenji said. “Yamada-san, I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“Hardly, since I’m not doing anything. Hoshi is.”
The trembling ceased. There was still great activity above, with steam boiling out of the mountainside, sometimes so thick that we could see neither Hoshi nor the goddess, but only the glow. Moments passed, then several more.
“What is that fool up to?” Master Kagyo demanded, but now Kenji was grinning broadly.
“I think I know.” He turned to his assistants, who by now were simply milling about in confusion. “Out with your prayer beads, all of you. Your friend needs your help.”
Their confusion didn’t go away, but the directive was simple and they obeyed. Soon the great chant had been replaced with the muted sound of simple prayers.
“He’s teaching,” I said finally. “That’s what he’s doing, isn’t it?”
Kenji looked up at the small figure kneeling in front of the goddess, and there was open admiration in his voice. “The young fool.”
“Well, I did suggest that he explain himself to the goddess, but taking that explanation to this level was his idea. Doomed, probably, but you have to admire the attempt.”
“You’re insane, the pair of you,” Master Kagyo said. “Kenji-san, please find a monk to replace that fool Hoshi and start again.”
Kenji feigned shock. “Master Kagyo, all living beings are on the same path. Even the gods. Would you have me attack such a one while she was hearing the Word of the Buddha?”
Master Kagyo scowled but clearly knew better than to press the matter. “What if this doesn’t work?”
I sighed. “If she doesn’t boil him alive today, she’ll probably do it tomorrow. Or the next day, or the next. Until then, the spring is perfectly safe. It’s in your interest not to interfere.”
“And after she kills him?”
“Assuming she does so, her betrayal is avenged. I’m guessing that the goddess of the mountain will no longer be so angry. She’s fading, you know. In my opinion it was only her anger that made her as strong as she was. A little time will solve your problem if Hoshi does not. On the other hand, if he should succeed . . . ”
“Impossible,” Master Kagyo said.
“Perhaps. Yet how many temples can number a goddess among their devotees?”
Master Kagyo’s anger faded as he apparently considered the possibilities. I was content to let him. We left Master Kagyo and his monks there. Kenji wanted to remain, but followed me when I asked. “We’re leaving tomorrow,” I said, once we were out of earshot. “The one week Prince Kanemore required of us will be concluded.”
“Leave now? With those lovely hot springs available again? May I ask why?”
“Why? I was brought here against my will, fed nothing but millet and pickles, and then I was almost boiled to death! Not to mention letting myself be put in the rather spiritually dubious position of agreeing to kill a goddess. You need to ask why?”
“Yes I do. Why? And this time tell the truth.”
“Because,” I said, “I need a drink.”
Kenji sighed. “Very well.”
I blinked. “No arguments? Now I have to ask why.”
“Except for the ‘against my will’ part, my story is the same as yours,” Kenji said. “I could use a drink myself.”
THE RIVER OF THREE CROSSINGS
It is the custom in many families to give the recently deceased a new name, in the belief that the dead person’s spirit will be less likely to return to plague the living if not called back by the name it remembers in life.
I’ve never known this to work, and least of all with the one who in life was known as the bandit “Tadeshi the Red.” When he chose to haunt the river crossing south of the Capital where his worst crimes were committed, he could often be heard bellowing his name for all to hear. Just as Kenji and I were hearing it now. Tadeshi did not seem in the least bit of doubt as to his proper name.
“Lord Yamada, do you see him?” Kenji asked.
“I see a blue flame moving rapidly through the bamboo grove on the other bank,” I said. “Unless I am greatly mistaken, that is Tadeshi.”
“He’s mobile. That will make exorcism difficult,” said the priest. “I can try to summon him, but for that we’d need some personal item of his. I don’t know of any such.”
An obvious but fair assessment. How could a thief own anything if all that he acquired really belonged to someone else? Nearly everything in Tadeshi’s possession when his hideout had been discovered by the district governor’s bushi had been either returned to the original owners or, if circumstances prevented, their families. What few items remained unaccounted for had been donated to a local temple, according to the headman of the village at the Uji River bridge.
I thought of those items. “What about the loot that was given to the temple?”
“A lady’s ivory comb and a bolt of blue fabric? I rather doubt either of them belonged to Tadeshi,” Kenji said.
In truth, that did not seem likely. The comb aside, the fabric seemed destined for a lady’s kimono, not the rough garb of a bandit. I sighed. “No one promised us an easy time of this. Let’s go.” I made for the bridge and Kenji followed.
The moon was full and high in the sky that night. I paused to admire it briefly and Kenji sighed. “We didn’t come to Uji to do our moon-viewing. We could have done that back in Kyoto.”
“Yes, but we didn’t. So I’ll do it here, thank you. It’s not as if this will make much difference.”
I knew that Kenji shared my bleak assessment of our chances, but at least he kept his attention on business. I tried to do the same and now followed as he took the lead across the bridge to the other side of the river.
The sutras that Kenji had prepared for us would keep the ghost from detecting us as long as we moved quietly, but there was no way the ghost would not realize that an exorcism was being performed once Kenji had begun the rite. A chant done in a whisper is no chant at all. Either Tadeshi would have to co-operate with his own exorcism, or we would have to figure out some way to confine him until Kenji could complete the rite, and there are few things more difficult than confining a ghost who does not wish to be confined.
Once in the bamboo grove, moving quietly was not really an option. The canes grew both tall and thick, and sometimes there was no way through except to force our way. All the time the blue flame that marked Tadeshi’s presence kept just ahead of us. I was beginning to think the ghost was simply toying with us when we finally reached a clearing near the water.
“I smell scented smoke,” Kenji whispered.
So did I. The blue flame had now resolved itself into the outline of a large, fierce man with red hair. The rumor was that Tadeshi had the blood of the northern barbarians in him; that much appeared to have been true. My attention just then was on another flame in the clearing. A smaller flame, with a small figure kneeling in front of it. In another moment the ghost of Tadeshi the Red disappeared.
“Che . . . ”
I heard Kenji’s frustration; it was an echo of my own. Apparently the person who had been burning incense to draw in the spirit of Tadeshi had heard it too. I slipped through the last of the bamboo canes and ran full speed after the girl, now that I could see her clearly enough to ascertain her sex. Fortunately for us, her kimono was not made for running. I caught her wrist before she had taken half a dozen steps.
“Let me go!”
“I think not. Certainly not before you’ve explained what you’re doing here.”
I examined my squirming catch as Kenji caught up. She couldn’t have been more than nine or ten years of age. Her face was dirty, and her kimono was faded but of good quality. It was her hair that caught my attention most of all. It wasn’t entirely
black. Even in the weak light, I could see highlights of deep red.
“Master Kenji,” I said, “I do believe something that belonged to the late Tadeshi has just fallen into our hands.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Unless I miss my guess . . . ”
“My name is Momiji,” the girl said. She was defiant, even as she stopped struggling. “I am the bandit Tadeshi’s daughter.”
The messenger had come from Uji while Kenji and I were discussing an obscure point of Buddhist philosophy. That is, the old reprobate of a priest was explaining why his drinking and womanizing did not endanger his future Enlightenment, while my own drinking and comparative celibacy would surely be my downfall. I was about to show him how “downfall” was a relative term to one who was about to be tossed over a railing when I noticed the man kneeling out on the veranda of the Widow Tamahara’s establishment.
“Lord Yamada? I have been sent by his Excellency the District Governor of Uji to seek your help.”
I let go of Kenji’s robe, and we both listened while the messenger explained the situation. It was well known that the river crossing at Uji south of the Capital had long been a haunt for bandits waylaying travelers on the road to Nara. It was well suspected that the villagers, if not actually complicit, had turned a blind eye to the banditry for years. Yet the appointment of a new district governor from the Minamoto Clan with a large contingent of Minamoto bushi to back him up had altered traditional views among the villagers. Especially, I understood, after a few summary executions. After that the governor had been quite successful in suppressing the bandit activity. The capture and public execution of Tadeshi the Red had been of particular moment, and the governor had made certain to report his triumph to the Imperial Government.
He had been less eager to report, it seemed, that the ghost of Tadeshi the Red now refused to leave.
“What of the priests of the local temples?” Kenji asked.
“Useless,” said the messenger. “All their chants and prayers have had no effect. His Excellency knows your reputation and requests both your aid . . . and your discretion.”
“If he truly knows my reputation, he understands that such help comes at a price.”
The man smiled. “My master is prepared to offer three full casks of uncooked rice, plus gold to the weight of ten Chinese coins.”
I saw Kenji’s eyes widen slightly. I hope my own countenance was more reserved, but I could not be certain. “You may tell His Excellency that I accept.”
After the messenger departed, I turned to Kenji. “Uji beckons. When can you be ready?”
“I don’t recall being asked,” Kenji said primly.
“Consider that done. We can discuss your share later,” I said. “But when dealing with ghosts, I’ve found that a priest totally without scruple is often a useful thing.”
Which explained why we both stood, two days later in the chilly night air trying to summon a troublesome ghost using a ten year old girl as bait. This was not a situation I had considered beforehand. Kenji’s low drone of a chant was starting to fade into the background, like the sound of running water to one who lived by the river. Momiji kneeled in front of the rekindled fire, looking bored.
“He’s not coming, you know,” Momiji said. “If you think you can compel him because of me, sir, you are mistaken.”
“Oh? Then why did he appear when you burned incense to his spirit?”
“Because I am his daughter and showed him respect. He had little of that in his life, I think. Fear, certainly. Not respect. He didn’t even have a proper funeral.”
“Then maybe we can arrange one.”
She looked away. “That would be good.”
“But it wouldn’t send him away, would it? Why won’t he leave, Momiji? You know it’s not right that he remain in the mortal world,” I said.
“My father was a thief and a murderer, they tell me. I understand little of what is right and wrong. I only understand that he loved my mother, and in his way, he loved me. That is what I know.”
I glanced at Kenji, who finally stopped his chant. “No sign of him,” Kenji said.
“Perhaps it is time we returned Momiji to her mother,” I said.
“She died last year,” Momiji said. “So, unless you plan to kill me . . . ?”
I frowned. “Certainly not.”
“Do not concern yourselves about my father, gentlemen. He will cross the Sanzu in his own good time. He’s not ready.”
“Why not? What are you not telling us, Momiji?”
Momiji didn’t answer, and I sighed. “Child, we are not your enemies. Your father is dead. It is past time he joined the dead. That is what we want as well, and it is all we want.”
“Not yet,” she said, and that is all she would say.
I glanced at Kenji, who said, “We will escort the young lady to her home.”
“I can find my own way,” she said.
“No doubt,” I said, “but it’s no time of night for a child to be roaming alone. And I’m not ruling out the fact that we may still need your aid in this matter. I want to know where to find you.”
The girl shrugged but made no other objection. We followed her back across the main bridge to the village. Her house was on the outskirts near the river. The house was little more than a hut; the best one could say for it was that it seemed in a decent state of repair.
“How do you live, Momiji?” I asked.
“My mother was a laundress, and I’ve taken over at least some of her work. I wash clothes in the river. Fish a bit, too—my father taught me that. I can take care of myself.”
“No doubt,” I said. “Though it must have been hard to lose both of your parents.”
“Everyone dies,” Momiji said. “There’s no help for it.”
Kenji grunted. “Remember what I said, girl. We may wish to speak to you again.”
She waved at the poor hut. “Then you know where to find me. Now, if you will excuse me?” Momiji went into her hovel and shut the door. We could plainly hear a wooden bar being slid into place.
“She’s rather pretty,” Kenji said, “in a wild and unrefined sort of way.”
I scowled. “Kenji . . . ”
Kenji let out a gusting sigh. “Oh, honestly, Lord Yamada—even I have standards. But consider how complicated her life is liable to become in the next few years. Especially with no family and no one to protect her.”
“That sounded almost like concern.”
“As a priest, I am concerned with the physical and spiritual well-being of all people.”
“You’re more concerned about collecting our fee, and at the moment this child seems to have us at an impasse. She said that Tadeshi would cross the Sanzu when he was ready. I think she knows why he is not.”
“That’s easy—fear,” Kenji said.
“Fear? What do you mean?”
Kenji looked disgusted. “Lord Yamada, if you’d spent even a reasonable amount of time on the religious studies suitable to your station, you’d understand very well what that means. Do you even know what the Sanzu River is?”
“It’s the river that separates the land of the living from the land of the dead,” I said, because I did know that much. “In order to be judged by the King of Hell and pass into the afterlife, a soul must cross it. That is what Momiji was referring to.”
“Yes, but the river is called ‘san zu’ because it is the river of three crossings: a bridge, a shallow ford, and a deep, serpent-infested passage. Where you cross depends on the weight of your sins.”
“So I’m guessing Tadeshi will have to wade through the snakes?”
“Almost certainly. It’s no mystery that a man with as many crimes on his soul as Tadeshi would hesitate to make the crossing.”
I thought of Tadeshi’s daughter and the look in her eyes when she spoke of him. “Somehow I doubt that. I think there’s another reason. I still believe Momiji knows what that reason is.”
“Assuming you are correct,
Lord Yamada, how do you propose to make her tell us?”
“I have no idea,” I said. But if we were going to fulfill our charge to banish the ghost of Tadeshi the Red, I knew I’d better find an idea, and soon.
Early the next morning Kenji and I were summoned to a private meeting with Minamoto no Hideki, the district governor. I knew better than to believe that this was purely a social invitation.
Hideki received us warmly on the veranda of his house. He was perhaps thirty, intense and vigorous as befit his reputation. His walled compound was just outside the village of Uji. The sun had not yet risen over the treetops, and he invited us to join him in awaiting its arrival. Our timing was good, and we did not wait long.
“A lovely sunrise, gentlemen, don’t you think?” he said.
“Exquisite, Your Excellency,” I said, as Kenji made similar noises of appreciation and we both waited as patiently as we could for the real reason we were there. Not that it wasn’t a fine sunrise, but sunsets and moonrise had always appealed to me more. Mostly because they did not require one to arise at such an early hour. It was all I could do to keep from yawning, and I noted with some amusement that Kenji had to stifle more than one such yawn himself. If this wasn’t perfectly obvious to Minamoto-sama, I would have been amazed.
“My sources tell me you had an encounter with the bandit’s ghost on your first night here,” he said. “Last evening?”
I didn’t know who his sources were, but I couldn’t dispute their accuracy. “A very brief one, Excellency. Master Kenji and I were trying to assess the situation.”
“And have you made your assessment?”
“It will be difficult, Excellency. I don’t think this comes as a surprise to you.”
He almost smiled then. “Hardly. I’ve had teams of priests falling over themselves in the darkness for the past month. All they have to show for it so far are muddy feet and a few cases of fleas.”
Kenji spoke up. “If you don’t mind my asking, Excellency, why is the removal of this one ghost so important? Now that the bandits have been mostly driven out, one pitiful wraith does not seem like such a threat.”
Yamada Monogatari: Demon Hunter Page 13
