Yamada Monogatari: Demon Hunter

by Richard Parks

  “Well then,” the abbot said, looking uncomfortable. “Umm . . . thank you?”

  “You’re welcome,” Daiki said, then he turned to me. “You think the demon messenger meant the fact that my heirloom was stolen out from under my very nose? Did the chieftain need someone to gloat to, and chose Abbot Hideo?”

  I smiled. “Yes, my lord. I’m sure that’s what the demon meant.”

  Kenji managed to hold his tongue for the several days it took us to recover and begin our journey back to the Capital along the Hokuriku Road.

  “Such a pity,” he said, “that the demons burned the storehouse before we could recover Master Daiki’s property.”

  “Such a pity,” I agreed.

  He went on. “Though I am curious as to how it was managed. You were in there for several moments. The others didn’t see, but I did. The fire,” he said pointedly, “began on the inside.”

  I nodded. “The demons didn’t set the fire, Kenji-san. I did.”

  Kenji’s mouth opened, then slowly closed again. For a moment or two he just stared at me as we walked. “You know,” he said finally, “I didn’t really expect you to admit it.”

  “I am not responsible for your expectations, Kenji-san,” I said.

  “But why? Why did you destroy Sanji’s Demon?”

  “There was no demon. It was a fake.”

  Kenji just blinked. “You are joking.”

  “I am quite serious. A first-class fake, I grant you. Very skillfully done by a master artisan. Only a close examination would reveal the deception, but Sanji’s Demon was no more than a clever arrangement of boar’s tusks, leather, and dyed horsehair.”

  “No wonder he wanted it back so badly,” Kenji said thoughtfully.

  “To the contrary—Master Daiki wanted it back because it was his family’s sacred treasure,” I said.

  Kenji frowned. “You mean he doesn’t know?”

  “Of course he doesn’t know. It’s only when the heirloom’s clothing is removed that the stitching becomes visible, and no one had touched those robes for centuries. I doubt the demon chieftain himself knew until after the theft. Before that, it was just a clever ruse to embarrass the Sago family. After he discovered the deception, well, Sanji’s Demon potentially became so much more. That’s why the demon chieftain didn’t abandon his deception once the theft was accomplished. He had to wait for the Sago family’s utter destruction, and witness his triumph firsthand. As demons go, this one had pride.”

  Kenji understood then. “If this information had become known—”

  “It would have been the end of the Sago clan as demon-quellers. That’s why Abbot Hideo had been summoned to the mountain fortress. I have no doubt the oni chieftain intended to turn the fake over to the abbot and let the monks of Hino Temple do his dirty work for him.”

  “You still haven’t answered my question. Why did you destroy the fake demon?”

  I shrugged. “To protect my patron, of course. What other reason could there be?”

  “Anyone else might believe that, Yamada-san,” Kenji said. “I know you too well.”

  “You met Master Daiki,” I said. “You saw what he was and what his family has accomplished. Perhaps his ancestor was not the demon-slayer that he was reputed to be. Perhaps the real demon fell to a god of disease or simply left for a new place to terrorize. Perhaps Sanji, like his demon, was a fake and a fraud. But the clan he founded most definitely is not. That is what I chose to protect.”

  “A lie,” Kenji said.

  “No, the truth,” I demurred.

  “That’s a contradiction, Lord Yamada.”

  I shook my head. “Facts are whatever facts may be,” I said. “But truth? That is something we humans create, Kenji-san, and it belongs to us.”

  Kenji just sighed. “Buddha be merciful.”

  I nodded in agreement. “Someone needs to be.”

  LADY OF THE GHOST WILLOW

  The remnants of my saké cask, like my sleep, had not lasted the night. Having no further resources to drown my nightmares, I rose, dressed, and went out into the streets of the Capital. The night was at its darkest, lost like me in the time evenly split between dusk and dawn, when ghosts and demons came out of hiding and walked freely about the city. I had no care for that possibility, save that I could have used the distraction.

  So when the shining figure with the appearance of a lady approached me, I was more curious than worried.

  I stood at the highest point on Shijo Bridge. It was a good spot to view the moon, if there had been a moon to view at that hour. It was a decent tactical location in case of trouble, with only two directions to defend. She came out of the darkness and stood on the eastern end of the bridge in the direction of the place where cremations were done, beyond the city walls and the clustered temples specializing in funerals.

  She was not a ghost, though someone less experienced in these matters could easily mistake her for one. The glow around her was very faint but easy to see, and there was a slight flutter in her step that gave her away. Not a ghost. A shikigami, a magical creature with little more reality than the scraps of paper used to create her and no independent will save that of her master, whoever that might be. Still, the person who created her had done a superb job.

  I had seen shikigami that seemed little more than poorly manipulated puppets, but this one could easily pass for human. From the number of layers of her kimono down to the precise cut of her hair, she appeared exactly as one would expect of a well-born attendant to a noble family. Not that such a one would ever be abroad this time of night, and certainly not on foot and alone.

  I turned my gaze back over the water, though I kept her image in the corner of my eye. “What do you want?”

  She bowed to me then. “I am sent with a message for Yamada no Goji. I serve Fujiwara no Kinmei.”

  The name was familiar. A high-ranking deputy to the Minister of the Right, if I recalled correctly. I had heard Prince Kanemore speak of him, and never disparagingly. Which was remarkable, considering His Highness’s general opinion of the Fujiwara. My curiosity was piqued.

  “I am Yamada. How did you or your master know I would be here?”

  She bowed again. “We did not. I was on my way to your lodgings when I found you here instead.”

  That was plausible, since a Fujiwara compound was located in one of the southeastern wards not far from Gion.

  “I will hear you.”

  “May I approach? I do not wish to share my Master’s business with others.”

  “Very well, but not too close.”

  The last was simple caution. While this particular shikigami might resemble a delicate young woman, I had dealt with such before and knew better. She could very well have been an assassin, and such a charming one would have very little trouble reaching her intended victim under normal circumstances, but my instincts told me that this was not the case. I trusted my instincts . . . up to a point.

  She approached to within ten feet and bowed again. I looked over her shoulder. “You have a companion.”

  The shikigami frowned. “I came alone.”

  “I don’t think this person bothered to ask permission.”

  She followed my gaze. A rough-looking samuru was approaching behind her, his hand on the hilt of his sword. I sighed. It was ever thus when more than one or two of the provincial lords and their retinues were in the Capital on business. Many of them kept well-disciplined attendants, but not all. And many of those were not above a bit of nocturnal enrichment or forced pleasure, at opportunity. The shikigami and I must have appeared to represent both potentials. My long dagger was well concealed but within easy reach. I only hoped the ruffian was no more skilled than he appeared.

  He spoke to the messenger, though his eyes were on me. “Woman, behave yourself and nothing too unpleasant will happen to you. I must deal with your friend first.”

  The shikigami smiled at me as the man pushed past her. “Please, my lord. Allow me.”

  I grunted
assent and the samuru’s eyes grew wide as he felt himself gripped from behind. In another moment he cleared the bridge railing like a drunken crane who’d forgotten how to fly. I counted to three before I heard the splash. The shikigami held the samuru’s sword in her hands.

  “What shall I do with this?”

  “A poor quality blade,” I said as I eyed it critically. “He may keep it.”

  Soon there was another, smaller splash. The messenger then turned back to me and spoke as if nothing unusual had happened at all.

  “My master wishes your assistance in a rather delicate matter. He believes a friend of his has been cursed. His own arts have proved ineffective, and even the priests have been confounded. My master does not know where else to turn. Will you speak to him?” she asked.

  “Yes,” I said, “I believe I will.”

  My surmise about the location of Fujiwara no Kinmei proved accurate. According to the shikigami, he currently held sole possession of the mansion in the southeastern ward, as his uncle Fujiwara no Shintaro was away on a diplomatic assignment to the north. She brought me to the north gate where I stated my business to the old man who kept watch there. I heard a faint rustle beside me and the messenger was gone. All I saw was a piece of folded paper that quickly blew away down the street on a freshening breeze.

  The servant escorted me into the compound. He barely spoke at all and made no comment on the disappearance of my companion. I imagined that such sights were not unknown to him.

  Lord Kinmei was waiting for me in the main wing of the house. At that hour there was no one else stirring, no doubt part of his intention in sending such a late summons. We had never met before, so we took a moment to study each other. I could only imagine how I must have appeared to him, in my threadbare robes and ungroomed state. For his part he was elegantly but simply dressed. I judged him perhaps thirty years old, handsome, but little else seemed there to read. He offered me saké, which I refused, though it pained me to do so. Considering my reputation, I expected him to be surprised, but if so he didn’t show it. He beckoned me to an empty cushion and sat down himself.

  “Forgive my late summons, but under the circumstances it seemed best. I trust my servant told you my purpose?”

  “In general terms, my lord, but not many specifics. You have a friend who is cursed?”

  The man sighed. “I call it that for want of a better word. I would say ‘haunted,’ but that is impossible.”

  “How so?”

  “As you may know, I am a man of some influence. My friend in turn is a man of good family and some wealth. He has had priests and monks alike place spirit wards at all points of access to his home, and I myself have brought in exorcists of great skill to watch over him. Yet despite both our efforts, a spirit has been seen walking his compound at night, apparently with impunity.”

  “What sort of spirit?”

  “A female, as best anyone can tell. At first glance she appears totally unremarkable, yet the witnesses who have encountered her up close swear that she has no face. They see only a blank white mask where the face should be.”

  “And there are no exorcists on duty when this happens?”

  He smiled then. “You must not think me so negligent of my friend’s health, Lord Yamada. Twice the spirit has been trapped and banished to whence it came, yet it always returns again on another night as if nothing had happened. After each visit my friend’s condition worsens. I have sutras being read at half the temples in the Capital. Nothing seems to help.”

  That was indeed puzzling. My friend Kenji, though lacking in most other attributes of a priest, was one of the finest exorcists I knew, and I had never known a spirit that he had exorcised fail to remain exorcised. I had no doubt those engaged by Lord Kinmei were of equal or greater skill. Besides, any competent priest could create a barrier that would be proof against spirits of the dead or even minor demons. Still, I found myself wishing that Kenji was not currently on a pilgrimage to Mount Hiea. His bursts of actual piety were infrequent but seldom convenient for all that.

  “Lord Kinmei, before we go any further, I must ask you a question: why did you send a shikigami to fetch me? Have you no other servants?”

  He smiled again. “Many. But none I would send into the streets of the Capital at this demon-infested hour.”

  “Also, this way, clearly yet without saying a word, you demonstrated that you are not without skill in supernatural matters. So I would understand that your need must indeed be great to seek me out.”

  Lord Kinmei bowed slightly. “It’s true that I am not without my resources, Lord Yamada. Chinese magic is a slightly disreputable pursuit for one such as I, of course, but useful. Yet you can also see that my . . . intervention, in this matter, must remain at a discreet level. You have quite a reputation, Lord Yamada.”

  “For saké?”

  A bit blunt on my part, but I preferred honesty in these sort of dealings, to the degree that was possible. It prevented many a misunderstanding later.

  “That as well,” Kinmei admitted, “but also for discretion. The saké I do not care about, save that it not interfere with your services.”

  “It will not. Now, then, is it my aid or my advice you seek?”

  “Both. For which I am quite willing to pay two casks of rice from the first harvest of my western farms, plus five bolts of blue silk and one bar of gold to the weight of twenty Chinese coins.”

  I kept my face blank with an effort. Such would pay off all my current debts plus support me comfortably for an entire year. More, if I were sensible, though of course I would not be.

  “Your terms are acceptable. I will require a written introduction to your friend, along with his co-operation. You can start by telling me his name.”

  “You’ll understand that I could not say until we had agreed, but he is Minamoto no Akio. He is a member of the Emperor’s guard, though at present he is on leave for his health. All is easily arranged. He will listen to my wishes in this. Do you have any thoughts on the problem at this point?”

  The victim was unknown to me, but I felt sure I could find out more from Prince Kanemore if need compelled. That would not be necessary, if Kinmei was being as honest with me as he seemed to be. “A couple. But first I must ask you an indelicate question: to your knowledge, is your friend prone to intemperate love affairs?”

  Kinmei smiled again, though I felt that he almost laughed. “Akio has never been prone to intemperance of any kind, Lord Yamada. He is quite likely the most serious, dutiful man I have ever met. He has only one . . . attachment, that I am aware of.”

  “Do you know her name? Where the lady might be found?”

  Kinmei sighed. “I’m sorry, but such is Lord Akio’s discretion that I barely know of her existence. Why do you ask?”

  “Because of the nature of the attacks. Now, one possibility is that the ghost enters his compound by avoiding the barriers.”

  “Certainly, but how? The priests are quite diligent, I assure you.”

  “By the simple expedient of already being within his compound. If the grave is located on the premises, even an exorcist would not send her far.”

  From the expression on Kinmei’s face it was obvious that the possibility had never occurred to him. “Far-fetched,” he said at last, “but certainly possible. That must be considered.”

  “The other possibility is that we’re not dealing with a ghost in the normal sense at all, which is why I asked about his love affairs, meaning no disrespect. Our creature could be an ikiryo.”

  He frowned. “Ikiryo? You mean the vengeful spirit of a living person?”

  I was not surprised that he had heard of such things, but again it was clear the possibility had not occurred to him before now. No wonder. Such instances were extremely rare, and the most famous one of all never actually happened, unless the lady known as Murasaki Shikibu’s account of a feckless prince’s life was more true than was commonly believed.

  “Even so,” he said, “I consider that even less
likely than finding a grave on the grounds.”

  “Jealousy and anger are powerful emotions and can arise even in the best of people. Like the Lady of the Sixth Ward herself, whoever is doing this might not even be aware of it.” I made the reference to the Genji Monogatari in the full confidence that he would understand it, nor was I disappointed.

  “The Lady of the Sixth Ward wrought great harm to the Shining Prince’s loved ones all unawares. So. We must consider all possibilities, not only for Akio’s sake but the future happiness of our two families. Suzume especially.”

  I frowned. “Your pardon, Lord Kinmei, but I don’t know who you mean.”

  “Fujiwara no Suzume. My younger sister, Lord Yamada. Once Akio has recovered his health, he and Suzume are to be married.”

  It occurred to me that, if Lady Suzume had been the “attachment” to which Lord Kinmei referred, he would know more of the matter than he was telling. Again, my instincts spoke against that. Which left the matter of Lord Akio’s lover a question that would need answering.

  It took a little while for the introductions and arrangements to be made, so by the time I arrived at Akio’s family compound on the sixth avenue south of Gion, his condition had worsened and he was unable to receive visitors. Akio had been placed in the east wing of the mansion, and I could plainly hear the drones of the priests reciting sutras. No expense had been spared, though so far to no good affect.

  As evening fell again, I toured the grounds in the company of an aged senior priest named Nobu. I told him of my suspicions, and he considered them in silence for several moments.

  “A burial in a place meant for the living would be most unusual,” he said. “One that would occur only in circumstances that were themselves . . . unusual.”

  I smiled then. I was beginning to like the old priest. “We must speak frankly to one another,” I said. “You mean either a burial from ancient times . . . or a murder.”

  “Lord Akio’s family have long been patrons of my temple. I would not accuse this great and noble house of such a thing,” Nobu said.