Yamada Monogatari: Demon Hunter

by Richard Parks

  I sighed. “Kenji, you asked last night why my brother’s ghost could be in this place. After some reflection, the answer is obvious—there is no reason he would be. He had no attachment to it, or even knowledge of it. Therefore, this is not my brother.”

  I addressed Kasuke’s image. “You are skilled. You’ve stolen my memory of Kasuke and fooled my eyes into seeing my brother so that I would not attack you. It was sound strategy. It has failed.”

  I took another step and the image retreated. “Leave,” I said. “I will not warn you a third time.”

  My brother’s image was gone in an instant. There was a nearly overpowering stench, and then in its place stood an eight-foot ogre with red skin, black hair, and an iron cudgel. The monster roared and raised his club to strike. To his credit, Kenji did not flee. He did, however, take one step back and started chanting a sutra. I assumed it was one of protection, but I didn’t even blink.

  “So be it.”

  My blade was in motion before the cudgel even began its descent; I took two steps forward, made my best judgment of my foe, and chose my target. Fortunately, I chose well. One stroke and the fight was over. I did not congratulate myself on either my bravery or skill, as I knew I owed the victory to neither. All that had been required was to keep a clear head, and so I succeeded because I had not been drinking. The idea depressed me. I wanted very much to be drinking.

  The ogre in its turn was gone. What lay on the ground dead from my sword cut was a little wizened creature not much larger than a monkey, with a human-looking face but the teeth and horns of a devil. A very small, weak devil. I started to clean my sword before Kenji stopped chanting. Apparently his eyes had been closed the entire time.

  “Lord Yamada, what . . . ?”

  “A youkai. Just some little shape-shifting monster with more skill than sense. I suspected as much as soon as I saw what appeared to be my brother’s ghost. As I said, my brother has no business either here or with me. Yet what I saw wanted me to believe it was my brother. So I took some time yesterday to ask myself why that was.”

  Kenji stared at the pitiful little creature. “I retract my remark about your sanity . . . for the moment. What was your answer?”

  “The answer was that I would never attack my own brother, alive or dead. What do you think you might have seen if you had been closer to this creature when we first encountered the thing yesterday?”

  “I don’t know,” Kenji said, though of course he was lying.

  I smiled. “I do. It would have been the image of something you couldn’t—or wouldn’t—fight. Quite clever, really. A skill that could potentially drive off even the most powerful attacker, if it was fooled. I wasn’t. The image of the ogre was simply a last resort.”

  “But why the ogre at all? Why did it not flee, knowing its ruse had failed?”

  I walked up to the small shrine building. “I think the poor creature had become attached to this, rather like a miser with its hoard. As those pitiful ghosts guard the compound, this creature guarded this shrine. That’s how I knew what I sought was here.”

  I opened the door to the shrine. The moonlight caught the glimmer of gold. “Please fetch my box, Kenji.” He did as I directed, and I reached within the shrine and removed what lay within, placing it in the lacquer box. Kenji watched with more than usual interest.

  “Kannon? A golden statue of the Goddess of Mercy?”

  “That was what I was sent to find.”

  Kenji let out a low whistle. “No wonder people have been getting themselves killed to search for this.”

  I laughed. “Rubbish. No one had any idea what was here. They just knew that something was, and the guardian ghosts by their presence appeared to confirm this. Let’s be on our way.”

  Kenji scowled. “Lord Yamada, aren’t you forgetting something? ‘Master Rencho’ and his murderous monks are out there waiting for us.”

  “I have not forgotten. Let us greet them, shall we?”

  Kenji sighed. “I retract my retracting. You are definitely insane.”

  I didn’t feel inclined to argue the point. Yet, despite his misgivings, Kenji went with me when I approached the open gate where the door of the compound had once stood. I judged the distance as best I could and stopped about twenty paces from the dark opening. In the weak lamplight I saw a faint glow from the top of each ruined gatepost.

  Loyal servants of the Fujiwara, I ask of you one last duty. For what I am about to force you to do, forgive me. It wasn’t a prayer, exactly, but just then it was the best I could do.

  “Master Rencho. So good of you to come to meet us, but as I said, we will not be returning to the temple tonight.”

  There was silence for a moment, but after a while a familiar figure appeared out of the gloom and stood just outside the gate opening. “Clever man, but you will not be returning anywhere unless you hand over what you’ve found. My men have the compound surrounded!”

  I smiled. “Master Rencho, you and I both know that you have less than a dozen men. This compound is too large for you to cover all the gaps in sufficient force. My companion and I could slip out at any one of a score of places, and you couldn’t stop us.”

  He laughed. I heard cruelty and murder reflected there. “No, but we would see where you emerged. We know this area. We would track you down before you got very far and make you regret our exertions.”

  That part was doubtless true enough, if he had in fact dispersed his men. I was gambling our lives that he had not yet done so.

  “No need for threats, Master Rencho. Kenji, your lantern please.”

  I set the box on the ground on its side with the lid facing Rencho, and placed the lantern in front of that just off to one side so that the glow illuminated the box without blocking their view of it. “Behold your prize.”

  I opened the lid, and the lantern threw back the shine of gold. “Kenji, run!”

  I was already away, and Kenji followed me, nearly blind in the dark. “Lord Yamada, what are you—”

  He didn’t get to finish. A roar had gone up from the front of the compound as several men rushed through the gap between the gateposts. So much for my insanity. Real monks would never have fallen for my trick. Bandits, on the other hand, were as predictable as the change of seasons. The gleam of gold drew them through the empty gateway, forgetting the curse, forgetting everything save their greed.

  Also forgetting, as I knew they would, the two wretched but very deadly ghosts.

  We heard the first scream before we could even turn around. I instantly regretted the backward glance I took then. The two formerly winsome ghosts were in the full power of their wrath. Their black hair struck blue sparks against the night; their white limbs had grown long and ended, not with delicate hands, but enlarged talons. Their teeth were as long and pointed as icicles, and they were, quite literally, tearing the bandits apart. They took down those few who had the sense to try to flee first, and then they turned on the rest.

  “Kenji, hurry!”

  Before we could get back, it was almost over. As one, the two vengeful ghosts turned on the only survivor, who happened to be Master Rencho, lying whimpering on the ground not five paces from the golden statue. Kenji started muttering a sutra as best he could, but he was winded from running, and I knew it would be too late. I had no choice. I reached into my robe again and drew out, not the plaque, but my original safe passage.

  “In the name of the Emperor!”

  Loyalty had kept us safe so far. I prayed it would again. There was a moment when I feared that it wouldn’t be enough, that all was lost, but the two ghosts stopped a mere pace or two from their victim.

  I approached them, holding the symbol in front of me. “You know my authority. This man is my prisoner,” I said as I advanced. “Do not harm him.”

  The ghosts resumed their usual appearances, along with the sadness that had come with it­­—the sadness I had felt at our first meeting with them. It was more overwhelming than even their fury, and I was not certa
in how long I could bear it. If I was right about what I was about to do, then none of us would have to bear it, ever again.

  “It’s over,” I said to them. “The last item your master left behind has been recovered and will be returned to its rightful place. This I promise as a faithful servant of the Emperor. Your duty is discharged.” I kept my own doubts out of my mind and spoke with the certainty of command, of right, and then I held my breath.

  “Onegai . . . Please . . . ”

  It was the first time either of them had spoken. Both women reached out toward me, not in threat but in entreaty. At first I didn’t understand what they were asking, but then I realized what they wanted and I remembered to breathe again. I took the Fujiwara mon from my robe and held it out. “Go in peace and take this token with you, as proof of your devotion.”

  They both put their hands on the bronze, and it floated away from me. In another moment they and the plaque had vanished.

  “I guess we won’t need your services after all, Kenji-san.” I walked over to Master Rencho and kicked him, hard. “Stop your gibbering, man.”

  The pain seemed to bring the man’s mind back into focus. Now his mind appeared to be focused on the tip of my tachi, which I was currently pressing into the hollow of his neck. “If I spare your life, will you promise to return to your temple and become the monk you’ve pretended to be? The temple will need new residents.”

  He licked his lips. “I swear.”

  “Then go.”

  Master Rencho didn’t need a second invitation. He scrambled past the bloody rags that were all that remained of his followers and disappeared into the night.

  “Now you’re trading insanity for foolishness,” Kenji said. “Do you honestly believe that creature will mend his ways? Most likely he’s running back to Uji to find more men!”

  “Likely? I’m counting on it. He will return in force, but not nearly soon enough to catch us. We will travel east through the woods until we reach the Iga Barrier, then north. We can pick up the east-west road in a day or two without difficulty.”

  Now Kenji blinked like some night creature that had been thrust too suddenly into the light. “Counting . . . ?”

  “Master Rencho knows we’ve found the ‘treasure’ because he saw it with his own eyes. Unless I misjudge the man, within hours the entire village of Uji will know. Within days, the entire province and beyond will know.”

  “And?”

  “And they will return to this place looking for us. We won’t be here, of course. Neither will the ghosts.”

  Kenji looked around, frowning. “Are you sure they’re gone?”

  I was. There was no trace of their heavy melancholy about the place now. What sadness remained, as always, was my own.

  “Quite sure. So the good people of Uji will be free to tear the remnants of this place apart, for all anyone cares. They won’t find anything. And no one else will come here to die. Or for any other reason.” I closed the lid of the box and picked it up.

  “The Emperor sent you, alone, to destroy those bandits—?”

  I smiled. “Hardly. I was sent to retrieve this item just as I told you. Nor did the Emperor send me here. I was, however, acting in his name. Not the same thing. You weren’t supposed to know that, by the way. If you tell anyone, I will kill you. I mean that.”

  Kenji looked serious. “I know you do, so if it’s my death to speak, then I will know the full story of what I am not speaking about,” Kenji said. “Who sent you?”

  “Princess Fujiwara no Ai.”

  For a moment Kenji just stared at me. “The Empress—!”

  I shrugged. “Yes, but more to the point: a direct descendent of Governor Fujiwara no En.”

  “Lord Yamada, everyone knows that Princess Ai is proud, vain, and of most disagreeable temper. Are you telling me that she sent you out of the charity of her soul to lift the curse on this place?”

  “Of course not. She knew of the statue’s existence, doubtless from a family tradition, and she engaged me to try and fetch it. I fear it was my idea that the statue’s removal could be the means to break the curse. Princess Ai could not have cared less. For my part, the plight of those two wretched spirits perhaps clouded my better judgment.”

  “Then what you showed the two ghosts . . . ?”

  “ . . . was the Imperial mon, the symbol of the Emperor. Against such authority, even their original master would bow. As attendants still in faithful service, they did the same.”

  I removed the golden image from the box and casually tossed it to Kenji, who let go of his staff as he struggled to catch it.

  “Lord Yamada, are you really insane—” He stopped. He held up the statue, feeling its weight, or rather lack of, in disbelief. “This isn’t gold!”

  I smiled. “No, it’s gilded wood. A fine carving well-protected by the stone shrine, but a simple devotional image and no more.”

  “And the rumors of treasure?”

  “Rumors only, probably fed by the presence of the ghosts, who were obviously guarding something. No one knew of the statue, save a few members of the Fujiwara family, the two unfortunate ghosts, and that pitiful youkai. But, thanks to Master Rencho, soon everyone will know of it. They will tell stories of the marvelous golden statue plucked from the ruins of this place. They’ll know it’s no longer here and thus not seek it. And even if rumors of treasure persist those who come here will find nothing, suffer nothing save wasted time. I have completed my mission. And the curse on the Mansion of Bones is lifted. In all respects.”

  “And the bandits?”

  ”At first I felt guilty for tricking the ghosts into dealing with them for us, but that was foolish of me. I was forgetting that the bandits of Uji were the physical and spiritual descendants of the people responsible for the ghosts’ suffering in the first place. What I did was no trick.”

  Kenji scowled at the carnage around us. “No? What would you call this then?”

  “A reward for devotion beyond the grave?” I smiled a grim smile. “No, Kenji-san. I call it justice.”

  SANJI’S DEMON

  Kenji the reprobate priest was in a strange mood, even by Kenji’s standards. “I’ve traveled a great deal, Yamada-san, but I think Echizen may be one of the most charming places I’ve ever seen.”

  It was the middle of the afternoon. Kenji and I traveled on foot along the Hokuriku Road on our way to find a demon-queller near the village of Takefu. I happily conceded that Echizen had its charm. It was early fall and the leaves were starting to turn; the breeze was pleasantly warm still but with a hint of chill. Even so, Echizen’s leaves and mountains and wooded hillsides were not much different than those to the west or north and, like them, after sunset would be stirring with creatures both unpleasant and dangerous. I shrugged. “It’s nice enough.”

  Kenji sighed. “Nice? Lady Shikibu herself lived here for a year. The poets Nakatomi no Yakamori and Otomo no Yakamochi were exiled here. They were two of the greatest poets of our grandfathers’ time! I can see how this place could inspire them.”

  I scratched my chin. “Kenji, a great many courtiers get exiled at one time or another, and every single one of them is a poet, by necessity. It stands to reason that some of them would be good at it. As for inspiration, Nakatomi’s love was still in Kyoto while he was trapped here, so of course he wrote brilliant poetry full of regret and longing. Honestly, what’s gotten into you?”

  Kenji just sighed. “I could ask the same of you, Yamada-san. You’re in an exceptionally sour mood, and for you that is saying a great deal.”

  I started to answer harshly, but that impulse just proved to me that Kenji was right. At first I thought it was simply because I’d given up saké for the duration of my assignment, and that sacrifice always darkened my outlook, but there had to be more to the matter. My hand kept creeping to my sword hilt as if I wanted to strike someone, and I didn’t particularly care who that someone might be. The idea of losing control, even for an instant, and what I might do in that in
stant, both terrified and infuriated me.

  “You know me, Kenji-san. I’m not the easiest person to be near, but I’m neither impulsive nor arbitrary,” I said finally. “There must be a reason. Why am I so angry?”

  Kenji rubbed the graying stubble on top of what should have been a properly shaven head, except that, in his case, it almost never was. “How can I know, if you do not? Have I done something to offend you?”

  “No more than usual,” I said, because it was so. “Though I will say that you’re a bit more insufferably cheerful than usual . . . ” A new thought stopped me. “Kenji-san, you’re carrying demon-wards and sutras with you, are you not?”

  He patted his travel bundle, which he wore looped around his neck. “Of course. You were a little vague as to the nature of your client’s need, so I brought everything I could think of.”

  “Say rather that my client was discreet. Do me a favor—put your bundle down.”

  Kenji frowned but did as I asked. He took one step away from his priestly supplies and his frown deepened. “Oh. I feel it now.”

  My hand went back to the hilt of my tachi, but not out of anger this time. “Demon aura?”

  “I think so. With my wards and the holy writs so close, I was oblivious. You’ve been sensing it for a while, no doubt. Which perhaps explains your mood.”

  “Perhaps. How close?”

  Kenji closed his eyes for a few moments, then scowled and went riffling through his bundle. “Very close.”

  My sword was clear of its scabbard before we both heard something crashing through the undergrowth uphill of the road, something very large and in a hurry. Kenji scrabbled to find a ward, but it was too late. The oni broke through the undergrowth beside the road and charged straight at us. It was just taller than a man, with pointed talons and long yellow teeth, but I barely had time to note its appearance before it was upon us and my blade was in motion.

  I took one quick step to the side and brought my sword across and up as the thing, unable to check its momentum, hurtled past me. I got one clear look at its face before its head separated from its shoulders and went rolling off down the ravine on the other side of the road. It was a foolish thought, but for that moment, I wished I had stayed my hand. In an instant it was all over. The creature’s body took two steps without its head and then slammed onto the road, skidding to a stop at the verge, its hot, dark blood pooling in the dust.