Yamada Monogatari: Demon Hunter

by Richard Parks

  Hideki looked thoughtful. “At the moment he is no threat at all. I’m more concerned about what happens when my assignment ends.”

  “I don’t understand,” Kenji said.

  I thought I did, but better to hear it from Hideki himself, and after a pause he obliged.

  “Last winter a nephew of the Emperor himself was robbed and humiliated just south of the bridge as he journeyed to Nara on pilgrimage. The bandits on the southern road had been a nuisance for years, but now the situation had become intolerable.”

  I had not heard of that, but was not surprised that I had not. Such an insult would have been kept as quiet as possible. People might think the Emperor’s government was enfeebled if it could not control the roads this close to the Capital.

  “My charge was clear,” Hideki continued. “Achieving the co-operation of the townsfolk was not easy, but soon they came to see that doing so was in their best interests. I made examples as needed, and my strategy worked. We have identified and either killed or apprehended the worst offenders.”

  “Your success has been remarkable,” Kenji said. “Yet that does not explain the problem with the ghost.”

  “The problem with the ghost is the problem with Uji itself,” Hideki said. “Banditry was a way of life in this village, either actively pursued or tolerated, for centuries. While I am reasonably satisfied with my progress, I fear that the only way to settle the problem for good would be to execute every man, woman, and child in Uji and burn the place to the ground.”

  “You would not do that!” Kenji exclaimed, momentarily forgetting himself, but Hideki didn’t even blink.

  “Priest, I would do that if this village did not serve too useful a function as a traveler’s station. The next best thing I can do is make certain that the villagers behave themselves for a long time to come. So long as Tadeshi the Red’s spirit is not at rest, that is in doubt.”

  “But he . . . ” Kenji began, but now I stepped in.

  “Banditry was a way of life here, as his Excellency said. Kenji-san, how long do you think it would take for old habits to reassert themselves in this place with Tadeshi’s ghost as a constant, even poetic, reminder of defiance to the Emperor’s justice? Especially after Lord Minamoto has left?” I turned to the governor. “You are leaving, aren’t you? News of your success has no doubt brought an even grander appointment?”

  “I am to become Governor of Hisen Province,” Hideki confirmed. “Once my work here is complete. But for the sake of the Emperor’s justice and my own future stability, not until then. That is why I sought your help. Frankly, these people have no cause to love me, nor I them. I do not wish to remain here one day more than I must.”

  Frankly spoken and reassuring in its way. I knew that Hideki would keep his word if we were successful. I did not want to speculate on what he might do if we were not.

  A messenger wearing the Minamoto mon hurried out onto the veranda but kneeled at a discreet distance until Governor Hideki waved him forward with his fan. The messenger whispered in his ear and Hideki scowled. I didn’t hear what the Governor said in return, but it apparently was a command that the man wait. The messenger bowed low, then withdrew out of earshot again.

  “It seems Tadeshi’s influence is already being felt,” the governor said. “Though in a most peculiar fashion.”

  “How so?”

  “Tadeshi’s wild daughter was caught last night trying to steal from Byodoin Temple. The monks are keeping her confined until I take her into custody. The usual practice was to take from travelers, not townsfolk, and certainly not a holy temple.”

  “Do you know what she attempted to steal?”

  He scowled. “Does that matter? A handful of radishes would have been enough. While a young girl makes a far poorer example than a grown man, I may have little choice.”

  Before Kenji could step in again, I did. “Your Excellency, forgive me, but I think it would be to your advantage to forego the Emperor’s justice in Momiji’s case.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

  “You said yourself that her actions were strange, and I agree. Was Byodoin Temple not the place where the remains of Tadeshi’s spoils were donated?”

  He looked thoughtful. “It was. You think there is a connection?”

  “I am certain of it. If you will allow me to take custody of the girl, I think she may be able to help us with the problem of Tadeshi. Certainly that is worth omitting one execution?”

  “I’ll defer to your judgment in this, Lord Yamada, but I expect results. I think we understand each other?”

  I bowed low and Kenji followed. “Of course, Excellency.”

  The papers giving us custody of Momiji were prepared, and then Kenji and I were given permission to withdraw, and we did so as soon as politely possible. On the road back to Uji, Kenji looked a little unsettled.

  “That man frightens me,” he said. “I think you’ve just placed our necks under the sword in place of Momiji’s.”

  “I’m glad that you’re paying attention. Not that they were not already there. Even so, I had little choice—I doubt we can make any progress without Momiji’s help. Or did you think that such a reward as we were promised was to come without risk?”

  “You are a friend of Prince Kanemore, the Crown Prince’s own uncle!” Kenji said. “Surely . . . ?”

  “I would not count on that,” I said dryly. “The Emperor’s government understood that Hideki was a man who got things done, or he would not be here. I rather doubt the Emperor is any more concerned about the methods involved than Hideki himself is.”

  “Then we had better hope that Momiji is in a more co-operative mood today.”

  “I would not count on that, either,” I said.

  Byodoin Temple had been an elegant private residence only recently converted by a member of the Fujiwara family for use as a temple. The building was shinden-style with a gated wall surrounding a mansion, consisting of one main building, now the main sutra reading hall, and two lesser buildings to either side, which served as residences for the monks and abbot. Smaller structures served for storage and workshops and were located behind the main hall. I presented our orders to the monk watching the gate, and he summoned a junior monk to escort us to where Momiji was being kept.

  Naturally, Byodoin lacked any formal facility for prisoners. Momiji had been confined in one of the small outlying buildings. We heard her before we reached her. Kenji turned to the young monk. “Has she been like this since she was taken?”

  “Not consistently,” the boy said. “She stops to rest every now and then.”

  A board on the outside of the building suddenly thrummed as if struck with a hammer. “Let me out!” Momiji shrieked.

  “Good afternoon, Momiji-chan,” I said, not very loudly, but loud enough.

  The tumult from within the building ceased. “Why are you here?”

  “Possibly to save your life. Are you interested?”

  “Perhaps,” she said.

  Kenji scowled at the barred door. “Perhaps we’d be better off leaving you here.”

  “No doubt that is true,” Momiji said, and it was all I could do not to smile.

  “I’m not going to speak to you through a door,” I said. “I’m going to open this, but only if you promise to behave yourself. Do I have your word?”

  “I’m the daughter of a bandit. What good is my word?”

  “That’s for you to show,” I said.

  “Then I promise.”

  Kenji looked skeptical, but I unbarred the door and opened it wide.

  If anything, Momiji looked more disheveled than at our first meeting. She had bloodied one fist, apparently banging on the inside of the storeroom. A glance inside told me that the monks had been wise to empty her prison before confining her; it’s unlikely anything kept there would have survived the experience.

  “Did you honestly think all that banging was going to do any good?” Kenji asked.

  “It was all I could do,” Momiji s
aid. “So I did it.”

  While I could fault her method, there wasn’t much to question in her reasoning. “Momiji, you were caught stealing the property of Byodoin Temple. You do realize how much trouble you’re in?”

  “Sir, I have been in nothing else since the day my father was killed. If you’re here to cut off my head, I can’t stop you. Or do we need to leave the temple grounds for that?”

  “We will, if such becomes necessary. That’s another thing that’s up to you.”

  She frowned. “I don’t understand.”

  I turned to the monk. “Young man, when this girl was caught, what was she carrying?”

  “Two offerings that had been presented to the temple earlier in the week,” he said. “An ivory comb and a bolt of fabric.”

  “Those belonged to me,” Momiji said. “They had no right to take them. And that fat old monk would never have caught me if he’d been meditating like he was supposed to be!”

  I spoke to the monk again. “I’m afraid our duties will require that we assume possession of these items as well,” I said. “Do I need to speak to the abbot?”

  The young man grinned. “I will ask his will, but if it means this kitsune will be removed from our midst, I do not think he will object.” The monk hurried away to confer with the abbot while Momiji frowned.

  “I’m not a fox,” she said.

  I sighed. “No, but you certainly have given these good monks reason to be annoyed with you. If getting called a fox is the worst that happens as a result, count yourself fortunate.”

  The young man soon returned, carrying the fabric and the comb. “With the Abbot’s compliments,” he said as he handed them to me. I didn’t miss the way Momiji looked at them—like one dying of thirst who has just seen water. “Most gracious. The abbot may be assured I will put these to good use.”

  Momiji scowled at me as the monk withdrew. “May I ask what you plan to do with those, and with me?”

  “Again, that is up to you. You say these items are your property, Momiji. I am prepared to return them both to you, but on one condition.”

  “What do I have to do?” she said, looking at the ground.

  “You have to tell me why you want them. And don’t spin any stories about your rightful property, because you know everything in your father’s possession was forfeit. I want the truth.”

  “You want to send my father to the afterlife,” Momiji said.

  “Yes, we do,” Kenji said gently. “And so should you, Momiji. Or do you wish your poor father’s spirit to wander this world forever?”

  She looked up. “With his barbarian blood, no one would offer him work. Banditry was all he had; the good citizens of Uji made him a bandit, and so he resolved to be one whose name alone would bring fear. He succeeded. And now if his spirit was truly strong enough to take its revenge on all who had wronged him, I would gladly wish that he remained among the living forever!” She glanced at Kenji and then me. “You did want the truth.”

  “He’s not that strong. Terrible to look at, certainly, and frightening, but not so dangerous as he appears,” I said, for I had long known this to be true. Otherwise we would have accounts of deaths, not just terrifying encounters.

  “Unfortunately, so of course I want to see him safely out of this wretched place,” Momiji said.

  “You can’t right all the wrongs of this world, Momiji,” I said, “but you can right this one. Help us send your father to where he needs to go.”

  “Why should I trust you?”

  “Because we want the same thing.”

  “You don’t know what I want,” Momiji said. “Not really. But perhaps we can help each other.” She looked at the bolt of cloth and the comb I now held. “The comb was for my mother. She had always wanted a fine ivory comb, but she couldn’t afford it. My father promised to get her one. While he was gone, she fell ill. No one would help us, either out of fear of my father or just spite. I don’t know. All I know is that she died before he returned.”

  “What unfortunate woman did he take it from? Or do you know?” Kenji said, and Momiji turned on him as if he’d slapped her.

  “He didn’t steal it! Mother begged him not to. So he went to Kyoto where no one knew him, and he bought it. Mother died before he could give it to her.”

  “He wants the comb now, isn’t that it? To find your mother in the afterlife and give it to her?”

  “To keep his promise,” Momiji said. “In his way, he was a man of his word. You can be certain that he will not leave without it.”

  “What about the cloth?”

  “That was my promise,” Momiji said. “To my father, that he would have a fine yukata for his funeral. Something more than the rough clothes he always wore. I’m sure the cloth was stolen from someone; I do not care who.”

  “Once he reaches the other side of the River of Three Crossings, his clothing will be taken from him. You know that,” Kenji said. “Including the comb.”

  She scowled. “His clothes will be taken and weighed to judge his sins by the presumptuous demons who await him there. I do know a little about what is to come beyond the Sanzu. Yet it is not important that he keeps the clothes, Sir Priest. Only that he has them to lose. As it was, that Minamoto baka provided an executioner but no clothing and no funeral. I need the cloth to make my father’s new clothes so I can keep my promise. As for the comb or anything else that belongs to my father, I pity the demon who tries to take that from him.”

  I frowned. “That’s all he awaits? The comb and the clothes?”

  “More than enough. Those are the two chains holding my father to this life, Sir. Unless you help me break them, neither of us will get what we want. Will you help me?”

  “Yes. How long do you need?”

  “Three days. She taught me a great deal, but I’m not the seamstress my mother was.”

  “Three days,” I said. “No more.”

  I gave the deadline not to be abrupt, or impatient. I just didn’t believe that Hideki would wait much longer than three days. We escorted Momiji from the confines of Byodoin Temple back to the village. We made sure she was fed but otherwise did nothing but take her back to her simple hut and leave her there. Kenji glanced backward as we returned to our own quarters.

  “Are you sure this is wise? Perhaps you should have held onto the comb while she works on the clothing or at least ask Hideki to put a guard on her.”

  I grunted. “Unless I am badly mistaken, the comb is useless to her without the clothes. Besides, I don’t want any steel under Hideki’s command anywhere near that girl. We’ll know soon enough if she’s telling the truth.”

  “And you really think she is?”

  “Yes,” I said. “I just don’t think she’s telling all of it.”

  We got some confirmation of this when, on the evening of the second day, Momiji slipped out of her hut through an opening in the back. She did not make for the bridge, for there was a watchman there, but headed toward a shallow part of the river where she waded across, her bundle held high over her head.

  “This is what comes of trusting such a one,” Kenji said.

  I kept my voice low. “Spare us both your wounded sensibilities. If we had trusted her, we wouldn’t have kept watch. Now let’s follow—quietly—though I think we can guess where she is going.”

  Right to the clearing where we had found her in the first place. She used flint to get a small fire going and then burned incense as before. Or rather she burned some fragrant dried flower buds, as proper incense was beyond her means. It did not take long for Takeshi to arrive. The blue flame resolved itself into the fiercely grimacing bandit.

  COMB, he said.

  “The yukata first, Father.”

  COMB! he demanded.

  “No! Keep your promise to me.”

  His promise to her? That was something she had not mentioned, and I didn’t like the way this was going. I stood up and now the ghost was glaring at me. So was Momiji, but she shook her head and held up her hand, and
the meaning was clear: Wait!

  I waited, though every instinct I had told me to stop this now and find some other way. Only there was no other way.

  “They don’t matter, Father. You don’t know them. You deal with me.”

  The ghost looked back at his daughter. If it was possible for a person to kneel before another in complete defiance, I could say that I had seen such a thing as Momiji kneeled before the ghost of her father. She held out the folded yukata and belt with both hands. She trembled but she did not submit, and the ghost finally reached out and took them from her as if there was no difference between her corporeal state and his own. In an instant the ghost went from a roughly dressed bandit to a finely dressed bandit. In my opinion it was too much like dressing an ogre for court, but I had to admit that Momiji had done a very good job with what she had been given.

  COMB, repeated the ghost, more calmly this time.

  “Very well, but remember your promises. Both of them.”

  She held up the comb on her outstretched hands, palms facing upward, and he took the comb from her and appeared to tuck it away in his sash. The moments passed, and then some more, but nothing happened. We could see the anger and frustration building in the ghost. I had said that Tadeshi was no longer dangerous, but that was never entirely true of any spirit, and especially an angry one. But why was he angry? What was wrong?

  “He still cannot pass,” Kenji said.

  Momiji bowed low and then retreated to sprint over to where I and now Kenji stood in plain sight.

  “I gather you wished him to leave without witnesses?”

  She blushed, but did not look away. “I don’t know what’s wrong!”

  “I think I do,” Kenji said. “I’ll have to help him.”

  “If you try to exorcise him, he’ll just flee!” Momiji said, but Kenji had already begun his chant.

  Tadeshi did not move.

  It took me several long moments to understand why. “Kenji is not chanting a rite of exorcism,” I said. “He’s giving your father his funeral.”