Tales of the Slayer, Volume II

by Various

  “Your service at the palace,” said her father, “will enhance your noble reputation. Matsuo will consider himself most fortunate for this rise in your status, even though it means the wedding must be postponed.”

  “And if he does not,” her mother added, “what better place to find another suitor, possibly of even higher rank?”

  But I don’t want another suitor of even higher rank! thought Kishi. She’d seen glimpses of high noblemen from the capital on trips to the shrine. They were plump and pasty-faced and weak and simpering and the Minomoto made fun of them, just as the noblemen sometimes called the Minomoto “barbarians.” “But—,” she started to protest.

  “Kishi,” her father said, a roughness to his voice. “Surely you cannot be thinking of bringing dishonor to this family by refusing this summons?”

  “Your father is correct,” said Bennin. “A great destiny lies before you, Kishi-san. And if you are half the brave spirit you are said to be, you will embrace this destiny with the renowned strength of those with Minomoto blood.”

  Kishi felt her cheeks flush with shame. She bowed low again. “Of course I will go, Father,” she heard herself say, for she knew she had no choice.

  On the Tokkaido

  Two hours later, as the thunderstorm eased into a constant, dismal rain, a lone ox-carriage bearing the Minomoto crest began its journey down the great eastern road, the Tokkaido.

  Kishi sat within, feeling distinctly cheated. When a girl was called to the Imperial Palace, there would usually be many long good-bye parties. There would be lavish gifts to help the girl start her new life in style. Other girls from the area would be clamoring to be picked as her ladies-maids. There would be a grand procession of family and well-wishers to accompany her to the capital. But Kishi shared the ox-carriage with only one person, the priest Bennin. The only “procession” with the carriage were four outriders, consisting of the best available warriors in her clan, all cousins. At least I am given that, Kishi thought, sourly.

  The last words her father had said at her departure had disturbed her. “May your courage and sacrifice bring honor to our blood.” These were words spoken to a warrior going off to battle, not a girl who would serve as a handmaid in the Imperial Palace.

  Already she was missing her parents, her servants, her brothers. Kishi tugged aside the curtain of the ox-carriage’s window for a last glimpse of the Kanto Plain.

  A gnarled hand stopped hers. Bennin gently pushed the curtain closed again. “There is no point in dwelling on what you have lost, Kishi-san. You will lose so much more—your old way of life, your innocence, even your name.” He had not removed his hat and veil inside the carriage, and his wrinkled face was obscured, unreadable.

  “Forgive my disrespect, holy one, but why is this happening?” Kishi demanded. “Why now? Why this way? This is all improper and wrong, I know it!”

  Bennin inclined his head. “It is so, Kishi-san, because you are different. Did you never wonder why you, a girl, were consecrated at the Shrine of Hachiman, a god of war?”

  Kishi paused. “I am a Minomoto. He . . . is our clan god. And I was told I might serve as a shrine maiden for a year.”

  “You might have, but it was decided that would not be the best training for you.”

  “Training? Decided by whom?”

  “The Council of Watchers could not be open about it. The danger was too great. Fortunately your competitive brothers have accomplished it even better.”

  “Who is the Council of Watchers? What are you talking about?”

  “You are no ordinary girl, Kishi-san. You were born to be a oni-goroshi, a slayer of demons. In every generation, there can be only one—a girl. The council provides one watcher to guide each slayer. It is Bennin’s honor to have been called to be your watcher. And you, the new slayer, are now called to your duty.”

  “My . . . duty? Demons?” Kishi had not given much thought to the existence of supernatural spirits in the world. The Shinto shrines taught of gods being present in stone and water, and Buddhist priests spoke of demons that lured the unwary to bad behavior. Many in her land took it for granted that such creatures as ghosts and demons were ever-present, a part of life. A rarer few gave such beliefs public lip service and privately called it superstition.

  Kishi wondered for a moment if Bennin were mad. But this was the trusted priest of their clan shrine. Her parents must have known of his beliefs. And surely a high priest would know of mysteries she did not. Kishi looked down at her hands. “Is this like those girls who are possessed by spirits, the mediums? Something I do for the shrine?”

  Bennin’s eyes glittered behind the veil. “It is something slayers do for the world, Kishi-san.”

  “The world,” Kishi said, trying to understand. “Why am I summoned to this duty now, so suddenly?”

  “Because your predecessor is dead, murdered by the foes you are to fight.”

  Kishi looked up at him in shock. “Dead? There was another slayer and she is dead?” Her heart nearly stopped in her chest. Warriors were taught to accept early death as their natural fate, even to consider themselves dead at the moment they take up the sword. In Kishi’s dreams, she imagined herself invincible in battle, free from any fear of death. But real life was a different matter. Her hands began to shake and her mouth went dry.

  “There is little time to prepare you,” Bennin went on, “especially given that the task before you is so dangerous and dire. But you are a slayer-born, and of Minomoto blood, and there is no doubt of your courage and strength. All are counting on you to bring honor to your warrior heritage.”

  “I am expected to . . . kill things. Demons.” Now her father’s final words to her made sense. Kishi felt a cold prickle steal over her as if her skin were putting on invisible armor.

  “Just so.”

  Kishi sat up straighter, feeling her bones take on the burden that she recognized and accepted as her destiny. “What must I do?”

  “You will serve as a handmaid to the Great Lady Ankimon-in and learn all the proper arts of a lady of the Imperial Court.”

  “But—”

  Bennin held up his hand. “This is just a cover. Someone has opened up a rift to the spirit realm in the Imperial Compound itself, threatening the very life of the Emperor and his court. Your secret appointed task is to kill any demons or evil spirits that come through the rift, find the rift, and close it.”

  “But—”

  “Yes, others have tried,” Bennin continued, “monks and priests and guardsmen. They have failed. Only a demon slayer can accomplish this task. And that slayer is you.”

  “Will I have warriors from the Imperial Guard to help me?”

  “No, you will receive no official help. Not even the emperor knows your true identity. Your duty must be kept clean of any political taint. There are many noblemen, even within your own clan, who would like to gain power over the emperor or supplant him. If they learned who you were, they might try to use you and your powers to serve their ambitions. You can trust no one. Remember, whoever killed your predecessor, once he or she discovers you are the new slayer, will try to destroy you as well.”

  Kishi swallowed hard. “Why wasn’t I told to bring my bow and arrows, then? Or my tachi? Will I be given weapons at the palace?”

  Bennin’s eyes opened wide. “Dear me, no! Your weapons will have to be improvised, or extremely well hidden. To carry a weapon in the presence of the emperor is highest treason, punishable by instant execution. You must not be caught with a weapon near the imperial residence. The Council would try to intervene on your behalf, of course, should there be trouble. But many zealous men serve the emperor, and they might exact their justice before the Council could assist.”

  “Forgive me, holy one,” said Kishi, with a sigh. “But this task sounds impossible.”

  “Nonetheless, you must strive to do your utmost, Kishi-san,” said Bennin. “Bring honor to your blood and your family. For that is the duty of any warrior. Particularly a slayer.”r />
  Those Who Dwell Above The Clouds

  The journey to the capital, Heian Kyo, took two days with only brief stops at inns for rest. Bennin graciously gave Kishi his servings of rice and fish, saying she had to gather her strength. They stayed secluded in either the carriage or an inn room, hidden even from the moon and sun. Bennin never removed his hat and veil, and even Kishi only got the occasional glimpse of his wrinkled face.

  As they traveled Bennin instructed her in the types of creatures she might face; oni warriors with horselike heads, kappa with the body of a monkey and a turtle’s shell, tengu in the shape of large black birds, dragons that can emerge from any body of water, and the omnipresent ghosts, who seem like the living, but who have no feet, who suck blood or life force from those they prey upon.

  By the time they reached Heian Kyo, on a misty, muggy evening, Kishi was weary from travel and jittery from the knowledge of horrors she had been given. She glanced out through the ox-carriage curtain and saw the shops they passed were shuttered and the grand streets lined with willow trees were largely empty. “Where is everyone?”

  “Home for safety, I expect. The Buddhist temples have been rioting again,” Bennin said wryly. “For such a quiet, contemplative faith, they behave like tigers defending their patch of forest. I do not understand why this new faith has caught on with the nobility. The old ways of the gods of nature, of rock and water and air, the kami, are better.”

  “Might it be monks from one of these Buddhist temples who are bringing the demons into the palace?”

  Bennin shrugged one shoulder. “Holy men who have turned to evil are not unknown. You must consider it a possibility. If that is the case, however, you must take special care. Such a foe would be formidable indeed. Ah, we are near the entrance. Look there.”

  Kishi peered out and saw a tree with large round fruit. No, the “fruit” was severed heads hanging by their topknots in various stages of decay. Some were mere skulls hanging by hunks of skin and hair. Kishi wanted to tear her gaze away but could not. “Is this the demons’ work?”

  “Oh, no, Kishi-san. This is the Imperial Guard’s work. This is the Traitors’ Tree, where those accused of plotting against the emperor are displayed to shame their families. Note that some of the skulls are misshapen; traitors are tortured by bands being tightened around their head until they confess their crimes. Pray you do not run afoul of those close to the emperor, or your head may end up here.”

  Kishi swallowed hard. “My predecessor, did she . . . ?”

  “No. She died honorably and in secret. But even if she had not, after the foes she faced were through with her, there would have been nothing left to display.”

  Kishi looked down at her fingers making knots in her lap. “If you are trying to frighten me, you are succeeding, Bennin-san.”

  “Frighten you, Kishi-san? You have not even begun to know fear.”

  The ox-carriage bumped over a threshold beam and rolled into a graveled courtyard.

  “Ah, we are here,” said Bennin. “Remember to cover your face until you are inside. Let Lady Ankimon-in instruct you. I will inquire about your progress from time to time.”

  Kishi was halfway out the carriage door when she stopped. “You aren’t coming with me, Bennin-san?”

  “This is a woman’s wing. I may not enter unless one of the ladies specifically requests my presence.”

  “I see.” Kishi stepped out of the carriage, one of her warrior cousins helping her down. Lifting her wide sleeves to hide the lower part of her face, she turned to say thank you. But the door to the carriage was already closed and the carriage pulling away.

  Fighting her feelings of being abandoned and alone, Kishi went up the nearest flight of wood steps onto the broad verandah. Night birds trilled nearby, and the air was heavy with the scent of wisteria blossoms. The paper sliding door before her clacked open. “Ah. There you are,” said the girl standing there. Her face was painted pure white, like a porcelain doll. Her teeth had been fashionably blackened with berry stain, and her voluminous kimonos flowed to the floor.

  How would I know if she were a ghost? wondered Kishi. I can’t even see her feet.

  The girl gave Kishi a disapproving glance. “This way. The Great Lady awaits you.”

  Kishi followed down a long cedar-floored hallway lined with gold-leaf paper sliding doors, the girl ahead of her gliding almost as if she were floating. The girl stopped and slid open a door. “In here, if you please.”

  Kishi entered and stopped at the doorway. It was an enormous room, as big as the largest hall in her family home. Ladies lay sprawled about on cushions on the floor, their colorful kimonos splayed about them like the fins of giant fish. Some were playing go, some were writing with brush and ink, some were playing musical instruments such as koto and biwa and flute.

  All looked up at Kishi with the same white-painted, expressionless faces . . . until one giggled behind her sleeves. “Look how brown she is,” that one whispered.

  A large woman at the back of the room turned around. She was wearing a brocade outer-kimono embroidered with gold thread. Her face was noticeably lined, despite the white makeup, and her obsidian-eyed gaze bored hard into Kishi’s face. “Come here,” the woman commanded.

  Kishi walked forward as gracefully as she could. At what she deemed to be a proper distance she knelt and bowed low. “I bring you greetings from my family, Great Lady, and they hope you will accept this unworthy one into your service.”

  “Hm,” the Great Lady said, and then nothing more for long moments. Then, “Do you play koto?”

  This was not what Kishi expected as a first question. “Um, no, but I will learn, Great Lady.”

  “Do you write poetry?”

  “Poetry?”

  There were more giggles behind her.

  “Have you memorized any of the important Buddhist sutras?”

  “Um, a line or two. But my family—”

  The Great Lady interrupted with a loud sigh. “Do you know the art of the fan? Can you dance?”

  Kishi swallowed hard. This wasn’t fair. She was a warrior. Her family sneered at the noble arts.

  “I suppose all they taught you in Sagami was how to ride horses and shoot arrows, then.”

  More, louder giggling. Kishi did not know how to answer or whether this was a ritual humiliation she would have to bear as young warriors sometimes did.

  “Listen to me,” the Great Lady intoned. “You must learn these arts swiftly and well. The behavior of a lady-in-waiting reflects upon the one she serves. If you irritate or disobey me, you will be sent back to your family. If you embarrass me, you will be sent to a Buddhist temple to take vows. If you shame me or my clan’s honor, you will be imprisoned in far exile, never to see Heian Kyo or your family again. I trust this is clear.”

  Kishi bowed lower. “Yes, Great Lady.” And my mission would be over and the world ended, returned to the rule of the demons. What did I do in a previous life to deserve this fate?

  “Now what shall we call you? Ah. You have arrived near the Iris Festival, so you will be called Lady Shobu.”

  “Does that mean,” giggled one of the other ladies-in-waiting, “that she will keep away demons, as the Shobu Iris Festival talismans do?”

  Kishi held her breath and said nothing.

  Lady Ankimon-in narrowed her eyes at Kishi a moment. “Given her present appearance, perhaps so.”

  Tales in the Dark

  Kishi was shown her sleeping chamber, which she would be sharing with another lady-in-waiting. Could my situation be any more impossible? Kishi wondered as she lay down on the reed mat. Light spilled in from the many lanterns hanging on the eaves, making sleep difficult.

  Her roommate came in through the sliding door, and fortunately she was not one of the girls who had laughed at her. “Hello. I am called Lady Usagi, but you can call me Aikiko.”

  “Usagi? Rabbit?”

  “I was even more frightened than you when I arrived a year ago, always hiding my f
ace. So the Great Lady gave me that name. She’s really not so horrible as she seems, you know. She is stern, but she will look after you. If you behave well, she will see to it that you prosper here at the palace.”

  Kishi felt like a complete fraud. How could she behave well with such a heavy duty?

  “She has even been known to arrange advantageous marriages,” Aikiko went on.

  “I have a betrothed.”

  “Ah. Someone of good family, I trust?”

  “Yes.” But Kishi did not wish to think about the boy she might never see again. “Aikiko, are there places in the palace where . . . where people do not go?”

  “What a curious question. Why do you ask?”

  “So that I will not go there,” Kishi lied.

  “Ah. Well, do not worry. If you stay in the woman’s wing, leaving only on errands for the Great Lady, you will avoid trouble completely.”

  “No, truly, please tell me about the Imperial Compound. I have never been here before and it is so big, and I am so afraid of . . . doing the wrong thing. Please tell me what you know. I am too anxious to sleep tonight anyway.”

  Aikiko laughed gently. “Good, because there is a lot to tell.” And for the next hour or so, Kishi heard of a bewildering array of Ministries-of-this and Ministries-of-that, the Bureau of Medicine and the Bureau of Divination (“Both very important,” said Aikiko), the Office of Female Dancers and Musicians and the Office of Imperial Wine, the Court of Abundant Pleasures, and so forth. “But do not go near the northern gate, the Ikanmon. That is the direction of ill fortune. But all that is there are storehouses anyway, so you will have no need to.”

  This is sounding promising, Kishi thought. “What is in the storehouses?”

  “You are a curious one, aren’t you? Well, I don’t know. Costumes for festivals. Old books. The guards keep some of their weapons and armor there.”

  Even better, thought Kishi. “Do you ever hear stories about . . . oh, ghosts and demons and things in the palace?”

  “You do ask the oddest questions. It is bad luck to speak of those things. Besides, great care is taken by the Office of Divinations and the Imperial Guards to make sure the imperial family is protected from evil.”