Yamada Monogatari: Demon Hunter

by Richard Parks

  Kenji just shook his head. “And a demon as well. I’m beginning to think I should have taken my chances with that lady’s husband.”

  We passed through the empty gate. I noticed Kenji keeping an eye on the ruins, but there was no sign of the two ghosts. Not that I believed for a moment that they had departed. If the stories I’d heard were true that wasn’t possible for them, but they did not show themselves or interfere, and for now, that was all I wanted. I had gotten a much closer look at them than Kenji had, and there’s only so much pain and sadness one can bear to see on the face of another person, living or dead.

  The compound was—or had been—a rather large one, befitting the status of its former master. The main building was once a massive structure, but now it was little more than a roof and pilings on a rotting platform; the left and right wings that had once run perpendicular from the main house and connected to it with covered walkways were little more than two long mounds of rotten wood and vegetation. One or two of the outbuildings stood as well, but little else. I knew where the garden had been, of course, as the placement of the garden was a fixed feature at such stately homes, but it was impossible now to differentiate it from all the other weeds and trees that had grown as they willed in the past century.

  “You’re not going into that, are you?” Kenji asked. “Forget the demon; the roof’s more likely to collapse and kill you, if you don’t break your leg falling through a hole in the floor first.”

  Kenji had a point, but I didn’t see much in the way of alternatives. I kept my hand near the hilt of my sword as I approached the house; Kenji followed close behind and held the lantern high, though the light did not reach very far into the gloom of the house. The moon shining through the gaps in the ceiling gave more, and I used it as I stepped on the great stone leading to the veranda that encircled the decaying mansion.

  I passed the threshold into the deeper gloom of the interior, and the air was thick with the scent of rotting wood. Even so, I quickly realized that there was one great advantage for us in the dilapidated condition of the house—there was, almost literally, no place to hide. Most of the sliding screens that had once been used to divide the interior space of the mansion had long since either collapsed or gone to tatters. Except for the shadows not covered by either our lantern or the shining moon, there was nothing hidden.

  We located and entered the nurigome, the family’s inner sanctum where treasures were likely to be kept, but found nothing. After a slow and careful round of the interior with Kenji holding the lantern, and even raising that lantern toward the rafters, we could see that there was nothing lurking in the house save for an ordinary rat or two and several moth-demons and other nightflyers too small to be a threat. The floor creaked ominously but otherwise held.

  Kenji looked unhappy. “I know I’m going to regret asking this, but what about beneath the house?”

  That had occurred to me as well, but the area beneath the floorboards was little more than a crawlspace, and it would simply be impossible to explore it properly without the risk of setting fire to the entire structure, a chance I was not yet prepared to take. “That’s something that very well might have to wait until morning, if no other signs present themselves.”

  “Are you sure that what you’re searching for is within the house?” Kenji asked.

  “I’m only sure it’s within the compound. It could be anywhere; the house simply seemed the sensible place to begin.”

  “There’s far more to this tale than you’re telling,” Kenji said.

  “Did I not say as much?”

  We stood together near the center of the old house. Due to its state and the bright moonlight, we could see the approaches to the mansion in all directions. On the far side of the mansion was an outbuilding I hadn’t been able to see clearly before, but in the gloom it was hard to tell much about it. The rats had fled, so there was nothing stirring anywhere and no sounds save our own voices, the creaking of old wood, and the chirp of crickets. Not even the ghosts were in sight.

  “You can’t tell me what we’re looking for or who your patron is. Fine. What about the story of this place and those two ghosts? That’s history, not a confidence.”

  I shrugged. “It was during the Fujiwara Regency, if you must know. A time of great unrest and uncertainty. As a member of that clan, Fujiwara no En, the governor of this province, was recalled to the Capital to support the Regent. He took his household and most of his bushi with him. The item I’m seeking was left behind.”

  “And the two ghosts?”

  “Also left behind. Two trusted female attendants of Lady Fujiwara remained with some of the older servants to maintain the house, as no one knew then that the family would not be returning. I think you can guess what happened next.”

  Kenji looked glum. “Uji.”

  For more than a hundred years the town of Uji had harbored bandits that preyed on travelers on the southern road to the old Capital at Nara. This was not to say that all members of that village were thieves, but a significant portion were and had remained so by family tradition from ancient times until the present.

  “Just so. As the local Governor, En could be depended on to make a show of force on his departure, but I’m afraid he had no more tactical sense than the average locust. His procession passed through Uji, so the entire town knew of his absence. A dozen or so of the worst lot decided to seize the chance and joined forces to attack the compound directly. They quickly overpowered whatever guards remained, if any, and ransacked the house. They found little save some rice, furnishings, and ordinary cloth and did not believe the two attendants when they told them there was no gold or any other valuables. In their anger and frustration, the bandits murdered the remaining servants, then brutalized the two unfortunate women before slaying them as well. Or so the story is told.”

  Kenji nodded. “So they died to defend their lord’s property.”

  “Actually, they died because their pitiful excuse for a master didn’t properly consider their safety, and because the bandits were foolish and greedy enough to believe that a Fujiwara would have left anything of real value behind, despite his haste.”

  “Your opinion of the Fujiwara Clan and this man in particular is duly noted. Nevertheless, he left the item you seek.”

  I smiled. “True. But remember—he did mean to return. Regardless, now this is a cursed place, and the attendants’ miserable, wretched spirits guard in death the compound they could not defend in life.”

  “There is some justice in this, that those bandits and thieves would pay the price for the past crimes of their village.”

  I almost laughed. “You think these poor fools were from Uji? Hardly. As the primary cause of the curse, they know better. Those bones we saw are the remains of outside treasure-seekers drawn by the stories of this place, and that is the common fate of all who enter here.”

  “Except for us. We survived,” Kenji pointed out.

  I smiled again. “So far.”

  I know it was wrong of me to savor the look of fear on Kenji’s face, but some temptations are not to be resisted. I didn’t have long to enjoy it, however. As I was glancing out toward the rear of the house, I saw a shadow that did not belong.

  The moon was still high, and I noted the shadow cast by the house and another by the outbuilding that still stood in the near courtyard about ten paces away from what was left of the far wall, but there was a third shadow, roughly man-sized, that had apparently been cast by nothing. It had been approaching the house, but I think my attention alone had stopped it. Now it stood, wavering, like the surface of a cold, dark stream.

  “A spell of protection, if you please,” I said. “There’s work to be done.”

  Kenji took his prayer beads from around his neck. “Spells? Do you think I am some sort of Chinese yin-yang magician? I am a monk, and I invoke the protection of holy writ. You also know I do not work for nothing, Lord Yamada.”

  “And you also know that if I die, you die,” I said. “How
does that weigh against the needs of your purse?”

  Kenji sighed and scratched his shaven head. “Heavily, as you damn well know.” He began to chant. It might have been a passage from the Diamond Sutra; I was not pious enough to know one book of Buddhist scripture from another, but Kenji, despite his flaws, knew nearly all of them and could recite the appropriate passages at will. Which he was doing now. The shadow moved away from us toward the outbuilding as we stepped out onto the rear veranda, always keeping the structure to its back, or such I judged its back to be. It was hard to be certain with something so close to formless.

  I drew my tachi. “Follow me.”

  I stepped down into the wild meadow that had once been part of the rear gardens of the compound and advanced steadily toward the shadow, which continued to retreat, wavering and reforming, until it finally began to take a more solid shape. Kenji never paused in his chanting, but if the thing decided to attack, I was far from certain that either my sword or Kenji’s sutra would be enough to dissuade it. Even so, I believed I was close to discovering what I needed to discover to complete my mission, and I wasn’t about to stop now.

  We were finally close enough to the outbuilding to see what neither Kenji nor I had been able to see before. The structure was neither a storage building nor a separate studio of the type some noblemen occasionally built after the Chinese fashion. It was a shrine, strongly built of stone with glazed tiles for the roof, which explained why it was still standing. Our shadow stood in front of the shrine, but it wasn’t a shadow anymore. A child of about twelve years of age stood before us, normal in almost all respects except that, like the two female spirits, his legs ended at the knees and were replaced by what appeared to be a trailing mist. Kenji was startled out of his chanting.

  “Lord Yamada, who is that?”

  “If I am not mistaken, it is Yamada no Kasuke. My elder brother.”

  “Your . . . ?”

  “Come, Kenji-san. We are leaving.”

  I put my sword away and turned back toward the house. I set a quick pace. It took Kenji several moments to catch up with me. “Wait, I don’t understand! Where are we going?”

  “Away from here. I must think about this.”

  “Your brother—!”

  “My brother.”

  On my way into the house I had noticed a small bronze plaque with the wisteria design of the Fujiwara Clan spiked onto one of the posts bordering the veranda. The plaque was no wider than my hand. I paused to pull it off the post, and the nail broke off as I pulled it loose. I tucked the plaque into a fold in my overjacket and kept walking, Kenji on my heels, until we had left the ruined compound far behind.

  Kenji and I reached our temporary lodgings at the small temple south of Uji just before dawn. The monk on the night watch seemed very surprised to see us. His surprise did not surprise me.

  “Our master will wish to speak to you,” he said.

  “We will be pleased to meet with him at the noon meal,” I said, “if that is agreeable to him.”

  When we returned to our room, I first checked to make sure that our belongings were as we’d left them, especially a large strong lacquered box fitted with a carrying pole. All was as it should have been. Kenji noted my attention.

  “Did you suspect the good monks here would rob us?”

  “I suspect that they’re not used to seeing someone make a foray to the Fujiwara compound and return in one piece,” I said. “No doubt property suddenly lacking an owner could be considered a temple donation. I think this has happened before now.”

  “Well . . . ” Kenji looked like he wanted to argue, but there was something else on his mind. “Lord Yamada, I didn’t know you had a brother.”

  “An older brother. It’s not something I’d normally discuss. He died of a malady when I was seven. Such things happen.”

  “Well, I can understand your reluctance to confront your own brother.”

  “When the moment is right I will do what I must, Kenji-san. But matters must unfold as they should.”

  He scowled. “Meaning what? And why would your brother’s ghost be lurking at a Fujiwara mansion that was abandoned decades before his birth?”

  “Both are good questions,” I said. “Which must remain without answer for the moment.” Kenji started to speak again, but I cut him off. “Remember, Kenji-san, your coming was your own choice, not mine.”

  Kenji just sighed. “What now?”

  “Rest. Tomorrow evening will come earlier than either you or I might wish.”

  We took our mid-day meal of fish, rice, and pickles in a place of honor with the abbot at the communal hall. He was a hale and quite jovial fellow, only slightly plump and no more than about forty. His priest-name, he said, was Rencho. There were, by my count, only seven other monks present, most younger than the abbot but cut from the same cloth, which made sense as the temple was a small one with no great reputation, and they were doubtless all native to that area. All were out of earshot. I did not think this a coincidence.

  “I am pleased to see you both safely returned,” he said toward the end of the meal. All the talk before then had been news from the Capital and pleasantries. I had wondered when he would get to the matter at hand.

  “Buddha is merciful,” said Kenji.

  “Not always,” the abbot replied. “You might recall that our brothers warned you about that place. We call it ‘the Mansion of Bones.’ Many travelers have come to grief there.”

  “Yet we have returned, as you see.” I paused to finish a bit of pickled radish.

  “That place is cursed,” Rencho said. “Everyone knows that. I have no reason to doubt you. . . . ”

  “Other than the fact that no one who enters that cursed place ever returns,” I said, trying not to smile. “Perhaps this will be more convincing than a traveler’s tale.” I reached into the fold of my overjacket where I’d stored the bronze plaque and produced it for the abbot’s inspection. “While I cannot prove that this old token is indeed from the Fujiwara governor’s compound, I think you’ll recognize the probability that it is.”

  “Indeed,” said Rencho as his eyes opened wide. “I think it must be.”

  I put the plaque away. “Our business at the compound is not yet concluded, but my friend and I must travel in a different direction after tonight, so we will take our leave. Our thanks for your hospitality.”

  “May the blessed Buddha guide your steps,” said the abbot.

  Kenji looked thoughtful but, for once, said nothing at all.

  As night fell, we once more approached the haunted compound. I carried the large lacquered box in a bundle on my back.

  The ghosts were out of sight, but they were there. If I had been blind, still I would have felt their misery. I did not know how the evening would unfold, but I found myself breathing a silent prayer for success, for their sake as much as my own.

  “We’re being followed,” Kenji said, keeping his voice a whisper. “The monks?”

  I nodded. “Led by His Holiness Rencho the Abbot. I did wonder when you’d notice. Or the fact that they were also eating fish today, as we were. Monks cannot do so without breaking the dietary strictures of their order, as you of all people should know.”

  Kenji dismissed that. “And you should know by now that some monks grow tired of rice and pickled vegetables,” he said. “I know I do. What made you suspect them?”

  “I didn’t, to the extent that I knew they would follow us tonight. I thought they were in league with the bandits, rather than being bandits themselves. It seems I was in error.”

  I couldn’t attempt to judge how the monks were armed without letting them know they had been detected. Kenji had his staff and I had my sword, but chances were we’d be overcome by sheer numbers if it came to an open fight.

  Kenji sighed. “Threadbare indeed are these times, when monks turn to lawlessness.”

  I grinned. “Rencho is no more a monk than I’m a Lady of the Court. I wager the real monks were either killed or drive
n off long ago. What better disguise for bandits than monks in a temple? As long as they are discreet in their activities, they have a secure base of operations. This ‘Rencho’ must be quite a leader, to keep that lot acting civil and at least mimicking the forms of piety.”

  Kenji was off on another stream of thought entirely, despite our situation. “Wait a moment. They know what little we have. Why are they following us at all?”

  “I showed Master Rencho the Fujiwara mon, remember? He expects us to fetch out the treasure tonight. Surely we would not leave without it?”

  “Are you’re telling me that there is a treasure here?”

  I sighed. “Whether there is an item of intrinsic value or not is irrelevant. The point is: those men following us do believe there is, and all the ones who died trying to find it before us did believe it.”

  Kenji’s knuckles were white on his staff. “What do we do now?”

  “We fetch the treasure, of course. Master Rencho expects to ambush us and take it when we try to leave. I would hate to disappoint him.”

  “As simple as that? Assuming there is a treasure, you don’t even know where it is!”

  “Of course I do. My brother told me.”

  Kenji just stared at me. “If this is how insane you get when you’re sober, the first thing I’m going to do if we get out of this mess is to buy you the biggest saké cask I can afford.”

  I grunted. “No more than enough to toast the Emperor’s health, I wager. And my mind is as clear as an autumn sky. Allow me to demonstrate.”

  Kenji followed me through the echoing old mansion, though now we entered the ruin only because it was the shortest path to our true goal. We walked carefully on the rotting floor and out onto the rear veranda. My brother was waiting for us, standing between us and the small stone shrine. I took the bundle from my shoulder and set it carefully on the grass, then drew my sword and advanced on the image of my brother’s ghost.

  “If you want to live,” I said, “leave now.”

  Kasuke stared at me and didn’t move.

  Kenji walked up beside me, his priest’s staff in front of him. “And you call yourself sane? How dare you threaten your brother? And how do you plan to kill him if he’s already dead? That’s a trick beyond even you.”