“Well done, sir.”
A burly young man stood just above us on the hillside. He wore the plain brown clothing of a yamabushi, but unlike a mountain monk, he wore his black hair long and confined it with a red headband. He carried a short sword and leaned on a gnarled club bound with iron. He was breathing heavily as if after a run, but he was not completely winded. He bowed. “Forgive me for putting you in harm’s way. The creature was faster than I judged. I am Sago no Daiki.”
Kenji and I bowed in turn. “I was fairly certain of your identity before you spoke, Master Daiki. I am Yamada no Goji. This gentleman is the priest, Kenji. Kenji, Sago no Daiki is our client.”
The young man smiled. “Ah! I was expecting you. I’m also happy to see that your reputation is well deserved, Lord Goji. Again, I must say ‘well done.’ ”
I pulled a tegami from my pouch and began to wipe the demon’s blood from my sword. “My thanks, but I think the credit for this particular demon-slaying incident belongs more to you than to me, Daiki-san.”
Kenji eyed the creature’s body. “With all due respect to Master Daiki, why do you say so? This was a very powerful devil, and I don’t think even my strongest ward could have blocked its attack completely, off-guard as I was. Yet you took it down with one blow!”
I put my sword away. “The creature wasn’t attacking, Kenji-san. I doubt it even realized we were here until it was too late.”
Kenji almost sputtered. “Not attacking? Then, pray, what was the beast doing?”
I nodded toward Master Daiki. “Fleeing in terror.”
The letter I had received the previous week from Master Daiki had, frankly, astonished me. The Sago Clan had been demon-quellers of great renown for four hundred years, starting with the clan’s founder, Sanji the Demon Slayer. The clan’s fame had reached far beyond Echizen, their ancestral province. Yet here was the heir of that noble tradition, Sago no Daiki, asking me for help with, of all things, a demon. The promised reward had been only part of my inducement for agreeing to see him; the remainder was simple fascination. While I was confident enough in my skills, I had no idea what I could possibly do that Master Daiki could not, and I was curious to find out.
Daiki paused in the road only long enough to retrieve the devil’s head, then escorted us to his clan’s compound north of Takefu. He made no more than polite conversation on the way. I took my cue from him and reluctantly asked none of the questions I was impatient to ask.
While the Sago Clan compound was certainly nothing like the grand mansions and gardens one could find in the Imperial Compound, it compared favorably with many other dwellings in the Capital. The gate and green tile-roofed wall were in good repair, and the main living and servants’ quarters were spacious and connected by fine covered walkways in proper shinden-style. Master Daiki was clearly studying me as I in turn studied my surroundings.
“What you see here is not a home, but the gratitude of generations of people who were protected by my family,” he said, sounding almost embarrassed. “I am but the caretaker until the next heirs of the Sago Clan are ready to take on my burden. Speaking of which . . . ”
“Chi-chi-san!”
Daiki laid his club and his trophy aside just in time. The words jumbled together almost like the children themselves. Two little boys and a girl, none more than five years old, came scampering down the steps and into their father’s—or so I surmised—arms. They were followed closely by a distressed young woman dressed as a servant.
She bowed low. “Forgive me, Master Daiki, but when they heard you were home, it was impossible to contain them.”
Daiki looked stern, or perhaps as stern as one could look with an armful of laughing progeny. I felt a pang of envy just then, which was not an emotion I experienced often, but I did not bother denying it to myself. A proper home of my own, a wife and family . . . these were things I once thought that I, too, would one day possess. Knowing that such a thing could not be so, and knowing the reasons, did not quite remove the desire.
“You’re not at fault, Aniko. No one can contain a son or daughter of the Sago Clan if they do not wish to be contained. Still . . . ” He set the children down again and lined them up in proper order. “It was wrong of you to run away from Aniko and wrong also to ignore our guests. Where are your manners?”
The children managed to restrain their giggles long enough to bow formally in my and Kenji’s general direction. Now that they were standing somewhat still, it was easier to sort one from another. The two boys were the oldest, perhaps five and four, with the girl no more than three or so. If this had been the Capital, Daiki’s wife and any children would either have resided in a separate household or remained in the care of the wife’s family, but here in the provinces such arrangements were less common. Daiki kept his family close to him and obviously preferred it that way.
“Lady Takara is away on a pilgrimage, fortunately,” he said. “So she does not yet know of our misfortune.”
It was the first time Master Daiki had touched on the matter that had brought us here, however obliquely. He sent the children off under Aniko’s care, after first instructing her to see that refreshment was prepared and our lodgings made ready. When we were alone again, he merely said, “Gentlemen, if you would follow me?”
Daiki led us through the front garden and around to the rear of the main house. There the compound continued for about a bowshot until the walls ended at the base of a stone outcrop, where sat what appeared to be a large shrine. Kenji was not the most proper of monks, to put it mildly, but to his credit he sensed the demon spoor before I did.
“The place fairly reeks, Yamada-san,” he whispered.
Another few moments and I had it, too—an acrid, musty scent which I can only describe as equal parts animal, decay, sweat, and fear. Though what I thought of as a scent was probably the product of a higher sense, rendered, perhaps, in terms more easily amenable to human interpretation. The “scent” was as much sensation as smell, much like I had felt in a different way the demon’s rage and fear earlier that day on the road.
“Yuichi should be here,” Master Daiki said, looking around. He sounded puzzled.
“Who is Yuichi?” I asked.
“He’s been in the service of the Sago Clan since before I was born. He oversees our gardens and the grounds and especially the family shrine. He was away visiting relatives, but I was told he had returned.”
“And he’s usually found near the shrine?”
Daiki smiled. “As well one could say that the shore is found near the ocean. The man is scrupulously attentive to his duties.”
Still, there was no sign of anyone near the shrine. The grounds were deserted except for two guards, bowmen wearing the Sago mon, who could be seen patrolling along the outer walls.
“The compound is under guard at all times?” I asked.
“Yes, Lord Yamada. One doesn’t answer my clan’s calling without making enemies, demonic and otherwise. Besides, there are always one or two bandit clans active in the area, despite Governor Ishikawa’s and my own best efforts. It’s wise to be cautious.”
“Indeed.”
We proceeded to the shrine building and went inside, and we immediately understood where the demon-aura was coming from. One look and I revised my perception of the building from “shrine” to “trophy hall.” The building was long and relatively narrow, ending against the rock face at the north end of the compound. The walls were lined with the skulls of demons: some very old by the look of them, others gleaming white as if they had just returned from the rendering vat. There were greater and lesser demons, monsters, and a few creatures I could not identify and frankly had no wish to.
Master Daiki paused. “Yuichi?”
An old man with thinning white hair and stooped shoulders was adjusting a skull that hung crooked on the wall. When he heard Daiki’s voice, he immediately turned and bowed low.
“Greetings, Master Daiki,” he said. “I am pleased to see that you have returned safely.
”
“And I am astonished, Yuichi-san, to see that you have entered the shrine. I know how you feel about this place.”
The old man bowed lower. “With so little life left to me, I did not wish to spend what remained as a coward. Besides, my assistant is ill and there was work to do.”
Daiki practically beamed. “Well said. These are my guests, Lord Yamada no Goji and the priest Kenji.”
“I am honored.”
I frowned. “Yuichi-san, am I to understand that you don’t normally enter the shrine itself?”
“Demons frighten me,” the old man said, and he bowed again. “Even dead ones. I have always been ashamed of this failing.”
“More like common sense,” Master Daiki said. “Come with us. Lord Yamada may have more questions for you.”
We continued down the length of the building, Yuichi following a few paces behind, while Master Daiki spoke.
“You have heard something of my ancestor, Sago no Sanji?” he asked.
Kenji grunted. “There are few who deal with spirits and monsters who have not. The founder of your clan, he was a minor provincial official who slew a particularly troublesome monster and was awarded the title ‘Demon Queller’ by the Emperor Temmu himself. Since that time his descendants have carried on this proud tradition.”
Daiki bowed slightly. “I have done my best, as did my father and those who came before him. But it all started with Sago no Sanji, who kept the preserved body of the demon he slew as a trophy. It was to house this precious heirloom that this shrine was constructed. As you see, our clan has added to the collection over the centuries.”
“It is not a pleasant place,” I said frankly, “but I imagine the very knowledge of its existence gives pause to all but the most vicious and determined monsters.”
“That is my hope as well,” Master Daiki said, “though the presence of the first demon, as I said, was the reason the shrine was established. Which brings us to the crux of my problem.”
There was little light near the north end of the shrine, and the poor illumination didn’t add to the cheeriness of the place. We were fairly close before we saw what was there. Or rather, what wasn’t there.
A square hollow had been carved into the face of the rock, twice as tall as a man and about half that in width. In that alcove sat a sort of raised dais, and on that was what appeared to be a stool with a low back. It was empty.
Now I understood. Master Daiki’s problem wasn’t a demon, but rather the lack of one.
“The demon’s corpse . . . ?” Kenji began, and Master Daiki finished.
“ . . . has been stolen.”
Despite the day’s events, sleep did not come easily nor did it last especially long. Dawn was barely evident before I used Kenji’s snoring as my excuse to stop lying where I was and rise. From our guest quarters I could hear very faint voices as if the servants were already up and about preparing the morning meal and getting the household ready for the day. I visited the privy and then took the opportunity to walk around the compound.
There were guards about as before, though a different shift from the previous night. I could not fault their attention; it was quite evident that they took their duties seriously. Yet somehow a thief—or more likely several—had managed to slip into the compound unseen and make off with the corpse of a seven-foot tall demon. Granted, the dessicated trophy could not have weighed as much as the demon did in life, but it would have still been too large and clumsy for even a strong man to handle alone, never mind the problem of getting it over the wall or through one of the gates without being detected. And who would wish to steal a dead demon in the first place?
Again I went over everything I knew of the matter: Yuichi had been visiting family, so he had been away when the theft apparently occurred. His assistant was ill and under the priests’ care at Mt. Hino Shrine, so as best I could tell no one had been in the trophy building for a few days. It was quite possible the demon corpse was missing for some time before anyone noticed. I idly wondered if the Lady Takara had seen anything unusual, since the theft may have happened at about the time she was preparing to leave for her pilgrimage to Hino Temple. I made a mental note to speak to her as soon as she had returned from her pilgrimage and then went in search of breakfast.
After some rice and fish, I was feeling a little more restored. Master Daiki had just sent the children off with their nurse Aniko when one of the bushi on watch entered the room and presented Master Daiki with a letter. He had not read more than a moment or two when he went pale, then bolted upright. “Tell Tarou and Ichigo to meet me at the front gate, armed and ready to travel.”
“My lord, they are asleep—”
“Then wake them! Now!”
The guard was gone in an instant. Master Daiki turned to us. “This letter is from the Chief Priest at Mt. Hino Shrine. My lady’s party was attacked by bandits before she reached the temple. Her escort was slain . . . every one.”
“Buddha be merciful,” Kenji said, rising only a heartbeat slower than I did. “Is there word of your lady?”
“She’s alive, but her condition . . . I don’t know.”
“We will go with you, of course,” I said. “The matter of the theft can wait.”
“Thank you. I normally travel on foot, but we’re in a hurry. I must go to the stables first.”
Kenji and I paused only long enough to gather up my sword and Kenji’s supplies before we joined Master Daiki at the main gate. The two bushi arrived only a few moments after us. They were looking a bit disheveled, but they were armed, one with a spear and the other a sword and bow, and both men were clearly ready to go. Servants brought out five horses from the clan stables and Master Daiki vaulted into the saddle of the lead mount.
“If you fall behind, find me there,” was all he said, and he was gone. All the way to Mt. Hino we saw little of the man save the rear of his horse.
The shrine to the gods of Mt. Hino was one of the oldest in the province. The mountain itself was impressive, but we had no time to appreciate it properly. Attendants saw to our horses, and a young priest led the two guards and myself to where Lady Takara was being tended. Kenji stayed behind.
“Forgive me, Lord Yamada, but I’m not always welcome in such places. Perhaps I had best wait here.”
As a Buddhist, Kenji might be seen as competition by the servants of the gods. While many shrine priests would not object to his presence, as many more just might. Since we had no leisure to test his reception at the shrine, I agreed.
A junior priest led us to one of the outbuildings of the shrine set aside for travelers. The two guards took up positions outside, and I went in to find Lady Takara propped up by cushions, attended by an old priest and a relieved-looking Daiki. Custom demanded that the lady be veiled, and so a translucent curtain had been arranged in front of her bedding, but it was a mere formality and barely obstructed our view. It was my first look at Master Daiki’s wife. She had a sweet face and long, black hair, but her eyes were red and puffy. She had clearly been weeping uncontrollably for some time and every now and then would break out sobbing anew.
The old priest whispered something in Master Daiki’s ear, and he frowned, nodded, and then turned to me. “May I ask you to wait outside for a moment, Lord Yamada? My lady wishes to speak to me in private.”
“Of course.”
I bowed and withdrew, and the old priest followed me out as well. “Lord Yamada? My name is Jurou. I’m the senior priest at Mt. Hino Shrine.”
I bowed. “I value the meeting, if not the circumstances. You were here when Lady Takara was found?”
He nodded. “One of our junior priests came to the scene after the bandits were gone. Her guards and attendants were all slain, I’m afraid, and Lady Takara was hysterical. She told the boy that Yamaguchi no Mikio’s bandit clan had attacked them in great force, but she didn’t say much else. She was close to collapse, as one might imagine. She is better today but still in a very delicate state, as you saw.”
“Indeed. Do you think that your priest’s sudden presence might have startled her assailants into fleeing? If so, she is extremely fortunate.”
The old man looked uneasy. “It’s possible, I suppose.”
“But you don’t think so?”
“My chief concern now is Lady Takara’s well-being.”
“I share that. Even so, you must admit that these circumstances are a bit strange. Men who would slaughter both a lady’s guards and her female servants would not hesitate to kill their mistress as well.”
“I don’t know how to answer you, Lord Yamada. She told me that a bandit was coming for her, waving his sword, when Mikio himself called the man back. I admit that is strange and I don’t pretend to understand it. I know only that the bandits took everything except for Lady Takara’s life, for which we must be grateful, even as we grieve for those who did not survive.”
“Forgive me. I also count Lady Takara fortunate; it is just my nature to try to understand why. Do you know where the bodies have been taken?”
“To Hino Temple, which is further east along the mountain road.”
That made sense. A dead body was a serious ritual impurity for a shrine, but the Buddhist temples often specialized in funerals.
“I know that Master Daiki appreciates all that you have done.”
“The gods are merciful,” the old priest said, and then he bowed and withdrew. I went outside to the shrine’s torii gate to find Kenji.
“Are you familiar with Hino Temple?” I asked.
“Only that it exists. I’ve never been there,” Kenji said.
“Then this will be your first visit. If you gentlemen care to accompany me, we’ll be going there now.” So quiet was Master Daiki’s approach that even I had not heard him. He had a strange look in his eye. I had questions, but one look at the man’s face and I knew they had best wait.
Yamada Monogatari: Demon Hunter Page 20
