by Ben Stevens
With these reassuring words reverberating in my ears, I was escorted back up the stairs and out of this rather dilapidated ‘castle’.
4
I went quickly to the barn, where the group I was travelling with had obtained lodging. Still I had not the slightest idea as to how I should proceed with this investigation, or exactly why I had made the rather rash promise to that daimyo that I should present to him the real killer of all the ‘disappeared’ guests of that inn within a scant twenty-four hours.
But the innkeeper was not the murderer. And that lonely path which ran between the sloping cliff-face with its many cave entrances and the sea… And the fact that no guest at the inn in possession of a horse appeared to have gone missing, over however many years…
Somehow, I had to connect these different strands – and thus find the real killer.
Or killers…
I entered the barn, only to find that several villagers were sat alongside the group I’d been travelling with. Evidently these villagers had been awaiting my return, for they now arose and bowed awkwardly in my direction.
‘Ennin… san,’ said one elderly man, trying hard to focus his rheumy eyes upon me. ‘They say you are investigating this case against the innkeeper… The man whom the daimyo claims has been secretly murdering various guests of his over all these years, for their money…’
‘You have reason to believe that he is innocent?’ I demanded. Time was of the essence; I could not afford to waste even a second in idle chatter.
‘We have heard your name; even us humble farmers and village folk have heard of you,’ continued the old man, with dogged patience. ‘That story of how you… apprehended… the umbrella-killer… That has almost become a folk-tale, you know…’
(That story of the umbrella-killer is one I must also tell you someday, Kukai. Remind me sometime…)
‘You must excuse my insistence, but are you aware of anything I should know concerning this extremely serious charge against the innkeeper?’ I pressed. ‘Otherwise, I really must start to make my own enquiries…’
The old man slowly smiled at the other villagers, as though gently mocking my impetuousness.
‘These guests were killed by evil spirits,’ he said then, as the other villagers nodded their accord.
I barely restrained a sigh; I had not the time for nonsense like this.
‘You do not believe me?’ said the old man then, as though he was able to read my mind. He had only a few teeth left in the front of his mouth.
‘They live in the cliffs on the outskirts of this village,’ he continued.
Those cliffs, with the caves set in them here and there…! Already I’d suspected that these cliffs had something to do with all this. So lonely were they, overlooking that long, narrow coastal path – the perfect place for a sudden ambush to be made…
‘Evil spirits?’ I repeated, my tone of voice perhaps just a little dubious.
The old man exchanged another sad, resigned smile with the other villagers.
‘I believe you reside mainly in Japan’s towns; in Japan’s cities, Ennin-san,’ he declared. ‘So you can hardly be expected to be aware of just what exists out in the ‘wilds’, as it were… Away from the densely-populated areas, in such remote places as this, with its mountains, forests and… darkness…
‘Believe me, spend any length of time here and soon you will realize that… other things exist, aside from humans and animals…’
‘And it was these… things… which killed the guests at the inn?’ I pressed.
‘Yes,’ said the old man simply. ‘The guests left that inn and this village, and were then just… spirited away…’
‘You understand,’ I returned, trying to keep my tone patient, ‘that talk of ‘things’ magically ‘spiriting’ people away, outside of this village, will not assist the innkeeper who has, until recently, been subjected to the cruelest of tortures in a bid to make him confess to the murder of x number of people, for whom there are no bodies, nor possessions, nor anything left except for their names, signed there upon the hotel’s books of staying guests, to show that they even existed…’
‘And you understand, Ennin-san,’ replied the elderly man, his tone still patient, ‘that you must seek… beyond… the human world, if there is to be a chance of saving the innkeeper.
‘Who, it must be said, is hardly a shining specimen of humanity, but who we in the village would still not like to see executed for a crime – or rather, crimes – he did not commit.
‘So go to what lies beyond this village, Ennin-san. There by the sea. There where a group of people may suddenly find themselves so terribly… alone…’
‘You knew… You were aware that there was something waiting for those… people… who were the most defenseless,’ I breathed, staring into the old man’s bleary eyes. ‘They left the inn, having seen this shrine here in this remote village, and you watched them go, already knowing if they would successfully pass along that path between the cliffs and the sea, or whether they would just… disappear…’
I was almost startled, when tears suddenly sprang from the old man’s eyes. A couple of the other villagers, also, began to weep.
‘But that is… is how it must be, Ennin-san,’ declared the old man, his voice hoarse. ‘Once every so often… they took who… they needed, those guests from the inn, and so they stayed out of this village – they did not take any of us…’
‘But who are they?’ I demanded, attempting to keep a clear head although my mind was reeling with all that I was hearing.
‘We don’t know,’ croaked the old man, who was by now weeping freely. ‘Do you not understand this simple fact yet? We – those of us here in this village – are certain that the innkeeper did not kill any of his guests; yet we also cannot say exactly who is responsible… Just that it is those… things… which exist just outside of this village, and which could enter it at any time, if there was not this unwritten… rule… between us…’
The other villagers copied the old man, as he bowed his head at these terrible words.
‘You have allowed murder to take place for… I don’t know how many years,’ I declared, my voice sounding hollow and toneless even to my own ears, so disturbed was I by all that I was hearing. ‘Doubtless the innkeeper also knew of these… things… of which you speak – and still he also did absolutely nothing to prevent a certain number of his guests every year from leaving his inn, and this village, and walking out to their deaths…
‘Which begs the question, of course – exactly why am I even interfering in this matter?’
The almost-whispered reply to this question came from a middle-aged woman; one of those villagers stood by the old man –
‘Because maybe you, Ennin-san, can put a stop to all of this… Finally…’
It was then that I made my decision. I would place myself in the gravest danger, just to see for myself exactly what these things were.
I would be the bait, as it were.
Tomorrow, at dawn.
‘It is dark now,’ I said, as the gathered villagers and the group I’d travelled with stared back at me, there in the meager light of a couple of oil lamps. ‘While it is still dark, in the early hours of tomorrow morning, you will return here with a horse – saddled – and a sword…’
‘A sword?’ repeated one of the villagers, incredulously. ‘What do you think we are, exactly – samurai? A horse, maybe, but a sword…’
‘You have no need to pretend with me,’ I said tightly. ‘Many a farmer and a common working man has a sword secretly in their possession, as we all know. So find one – together with the best horse you have. Then, maybe, I can try to rid you of this curse which appears to have lain upon your village for some years now. And, perhaps, also save an innocent man from being executed by the daimyo of this region…’
‘We will find you what you need, Ennin-san,’ returned the old man, raising his hand as the other man made as though to protest again. ‘We will be here early t
omorrow morning, while it is still dark, as you say.’
‘Good,’ I said firmly, while walking towards an inviting-looking pile of straw. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d better get some sleep…’
5
My reasoning so far was this: every guest who’d ‘disappeared’ appeared to have been part of a group that would have been largely unable to defend itself, in the event of a sudden attack. Perhaps there had been few men, or a large number of children.
Also the lack of horses. Even for the solitary traveler, a horse can make all the difference between life and death. It can allow him to make a fast escape from a surprise attack by bandits, of course; and yet even if the traveler finds himself trapped, on horseback he is still at an advantage. He has the height to chop down at his attackers (assuming he is armed with a sword or staff); but the most effective weapons are the horse’s hoofs, which can strike out with devastating – and often lethal – effect.
So against even multiple attackers, a traveler on horseback may still survive. Contrast this with a small, unarmed group – perhaps just a family, walking along that lonely coastal path when suddenly…
What?
I arose in the darkness, and stepped outside of the barn to see the villagers approaching. They led a horse by its reigns, one villager also carrying a rather short sword.
‘I’m afraid that neither the horse nor the sword are of the finest quality, Ennin-san,’ declared the old man. ‘But they are the best that we, simple village folk, can provide…’
I nodded. The sword went into the largish, straw-lined bag I used to carry my few possessions, there to remain hidden from sight until the very moment I needed it. I did not want to ‘discourage’ any attack upon me, just because that weapon was visible…
But there remained the matter of the horse. As the villagers had said, it was hardly the finest of animals, clearly old and tired. But still it would run faster than any human, even if only for a short distance; so I would be able to make my escape on it…
And yet, would the simple fact that I would be riding this horse along that lonely coastal path serve to discourage any attack upon me – by these so-called ‘evil spirits’, or whatever it was I was certain would be observing me from within the darkness of the cliff caves. Upon a horse, as I have said already, not even a child can be considered as being defenseless…
I decided then what I must do. At the ‘loneliest’, or most isolated stretch of the path, I would pull my horse up short, dismount and make an ‘examination’ of one of its legs, all the while shaking my head and pulling a pained expression. The obvious inference to anyone watching being that my horse had ‘gone lame’ – and as such could no longer be ridden.
And then…
Well, if my ruse was successful, I would find out exactly what would happen ‘then’…
The sun was just beginning to rise, as I left that village sat upon my horse. The noise of its hoofs muffled, as we proceeded along a track of trampled earth and grass. I was retracing the route I’d taken just the previous day, as part of that large group with whom I’d recently been travelling. There were six men (including myself), three of whom were large and carrying heavy staffs. As such, we considered that we had little to fear from the usual bandits and desperados who sometimes seek to waylay travelers in lonely forests and such…
Yes, it was becoming a little light now, the village being left ever further behind. The wind was blowing quite strong, coming in from the foaming sea. A few birds circled in the sky above me. The sea crashed against the thin, rocky shore to the left of me, while to my right there towered the craggy cliffs, the entrances to the many caves within them dark and menacing.
I knew I was being observed; I could somehow sense the evil eyes peering out at me, attracted by the fact that I was one man alone – yet still a man who was sat astride a horse.
I’d gone far enough, I decided. Suddenly I stopped, there by a stunted, prickly bush, and reached down and rubbed the top of my horse’s left foreleg. Then I shook my head, and gave a loud curse before dismounting. My bag I was carrying upon my shoulder, the sword lying within it…
As I knelt down and began to make a pretence of examining my horse’s ‘lame’ leg, there came a noise which at once caused my flesh to crawl.
It was a screech – a noise I had never previously heard anything, either animal or human, utter. It came from one of the cave entrances; and it was at once ‘replied’ to by another screech. Then came another screech, and another… And then the sound of scrabbling, like bodies moving quickly down that sloping rock face, heading towards me…
I stood up to see over the top of my horse, and could not restrain an instant shout of horror. Hideous creatures – nude, bony, their hair down almost to their waists – were scrambling down that rock face at an almost inhuman speed. Drool was slathered around their filthy, soil-blackened mouths, their eyes red and gleaming… They saw that I had seen them, and that hellish screeching began again…
Quickly, I got back upon my horse, at the same time pulling the sword from out of my bag. Not for a moment did those creatures hesitate. They all but threw themselves towards me, so that the horse reared up in panic, almost bucking me off…
I struck out with my weapon – and you know already, Kukai, that I have received some training in the use of a sword. Enough to be the equal of most samurai, anyway… The blade bit into the shoulder of one of the creatures – though I saw now that they were ‘human’, if undoubtedly feral – and it staggered back. Another creature (a woman, I deduced, if only from the naked breasts on display) leapt up at me; I kicked out with my right foot and struck her hard in the belly. She fell back onto the ground, spitting and snarling. The other creatures continued to circle around me, gibbering in that unintelligible tongue of theirs… All was fear and confusion, so that I could not even make note of exactly how many of them there were… Plus they moved so quickly; in one place one second, in the next, somehow, in another spot several feet away…
My sword continued to strike out, but then two of the creatures lashed out with their long, jagged nails at the horse’s eyes. It screamed and bucked again, this time throwing me from the saddle. I fell hard upon the ground, the wind knocked out of me. Still, I forced myself up in an instant, the sword still somehow – miraculously – in my grasp.
From the corner of my eye, I saw several of the creatures pull that horse down onto the ground. It gave another high, whinnying scream as (using those talon-like nails) the creatures quickly ripped open its belly. Its guts spilled out, red and steaming. These the creatures began to scoop into their mouths, cutting through the tubes with their blackened teeth.
Still, several other creatures continued to make determined attempts to get at me. I was being forced back towards the village, walking backwards with my sword flashing all the while. With unbelievable speed, one of the creatures lashed out with its nails, seeking to take out my eyes. My sword cut down and the thing gave a shriek as its right hand was separated from the wrist. The hand fell onto the ground as the injured creature staggered backwards, clutching its spurting stump.
This seemed to discourage any further attempts at attacking me. Instead the creatures concentrated their fiendish energies upon the horse which was by now – mercifully – dead. They commenced dragging its bloody carcass towards the nearest cave entrance in that long cliff face, glaring back at me with those reddened, hate-filled eyes.
Exhausted and sickened by all that had just taken place, I still forced myself to walk quickly back towards the village, looking about me all the while and with my hand tightly gripping the sword which had undoubtedly saved my life.
6
Nishidake listened, horrified, to my story. I was again at his castle; I’d talked with some of the villagers already, panting out what had happened at the same time as I walked to see the daimyo.
‘These things are… human?’ asked Nishidake quietly, once I’d finished. ‘I mean, even with their nails and their… their st
range way of moving…?’
‘They are feral, my lord,’ I returned. ‘They have existed so long in those darkened caves that they do not even speak any known tongue; they have their own language – that strange system of ‘shrieking’.
‘An unspoken understanding has long been in place between them and the villagers – that is, some of the people whom you govern. The village and those who live in it would not be troubled by these creatures, in any way; and, in return, they would be free to ‘pick off’ the weaker-looking guests of the inn here, as they made their way back along that lonely coastal path.
‘But first the guests had to be allowed to actually enter into the village, and stay at the inn, so that the people here could make some money – from donations to the shrine, meals, a few souvenirs and so on, as well as from what they spent at the solitary inn itself – before they were perhaps attacked on their way back out, depending on how defenseless they appeared…’
The daimyo’s face was by now quite pale.
‘And you really mean to tell me that these… these things eat human flesh?’
‘I believe so. But, if something else was presented to them – for example that horse I was riding upon – then this would also suffice. Regardless, I believe that all their meat is consumed raw. Perhaps they do not cook it for fear that smoke might give away their position, there within that cliff. Or possibly they just prefer the taste as…
‘Well, about this we need say no more…’
The daimyo wiped his brow, and gazed at me with sickened eyes.
‘You have certainly saved an innocent man from being executed, Ennin; although if what you say is true, he and the others knew of these creatures, and what they were doing, for a long time…’
The daimyo’s sudden expression of anger was terrifying to see. I had no wish to defend the villagers – who had, after all, allowed who knew how many men, women and children to go oblivious to a truly terrible death – yet still what the daimyo was saying was not entirely accurate.
