The Mammoth Book of Angels & Demons (32 page)

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 desiccated 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.

We recovered our horses and mounted, save for the
bushi
named Ichigo, who was left behind to keep watch over Lady Takara. We set off down the road again, though at a more reasonable pace this time, which was fortunate, as I did not think Master Daiki’s horse was fit for another gallop.

The other guard fell behind slightly to protect our flank. As we rode, I kept a close eye on Master Daiki. After a mile or so, the quiet fury I had read in him before gave way to a deep sadness. It was only then that I dared to speak again.

“Was your lady able to describe the persons who attacked her party?”

“Vividly. Their leader is someone known to me, and with my lady’s description of him, there can be no doubt. I did not think him fool enough to commit such an outrage upon my family, but no matter. The shrine has sent messengers on my behalf to Governor Ishikawa, and we will deal with him in due course. For now I have more pressing business at Hino Temple.”

“It was to Hino Temple that your lady intended to go on pilgrimage, wasn’t it?”

“Yes.” Master Daiki fairly spit out the word.

“There is more to this matter of the ambush. You know there is.”

His expression went as cold as ice but did not last. He finally sighed. “Lord Yamada, I am ashamed to tell you.”

“You have suffered grievous losses, but your lady has survived. Some men might not count that so heavily in the balance, but you are different. Tell me what your lady said to you, if you can. I would not ask if I did not think it important.”

“I do not know what you suspect, Lord Yamada. It’s certainly nothing that would have occurred to me . . .” His voice trailed off. “Lady Takara herself is the one who took Sanji’s demon.”

We could hear the chants from the funeral rites as we approached the building in the temple compound set aside for the purpose. Master Daiki and Kenji accompanied me. I was reluctant to let Master Daiki out of my sight since, unless I completely misread the man, he wanted nothing more than to burn the entire temple to the ground. Considering the story his lady wife had related it to him, I couldn’t say that I blamed him.

According to her account, Lady Takara had received a visitor, a monk from Hino Temple on his way home from the Capital. He had warned her of the imminent return of the spirit of the demon slain long ago by Sago no Sanji, that the signs and portents pointed to the destruction of her family unless she headed the spirit off by bringing the demon’s corpse to Hino Temple, where – for a suitable donation – the priests could properly ward it against the vengeful spirit’s return.

Master Daiki had been away hunting the demon that brought him to Kenji and myself on the Hokuriku Road, so the next morning she had taken it upon herself to have the two guards on duty bundle the corpse and place it in an oxcart along with several bolts of fine cloth as an offering to the temple. No one knew save herself, her personal attendants and the two guards. All were dead now except the lady herself.

“Do you really think the temple was in league with the bandits?” Kenji asked.

“I do,” Master Daiki said.

I had to admit that this wouldn’t be the first time such a thing had occurred, but there was a flaw in the reasoning. “They must share the blame in any case, if they are the reason Lady Takara was on the road. Yet, even assuming the monk was from Hino-ji, why attack the procession? The offering was theirs to begin with.”

Daiki looked grim. “Sanji’s demon was what they really wanted. And this way no one could prove that they were involved . . . until I get my hands on that worthless Mikio. I’ll wring it out of him!”

“Why would the temple want the corpse in the first place?” I asked.

“To shame my family and weaken our position. It’s no secret that relations between the Sago Clan and Hino Temple have not always been the best. They see our activities as an incursion into matters best handled by the Temple. Meaning that the rewards and prestige should come to them, not us. If it were not for my family’s honor, I would let them have the risk of it as well. See how well the abbot sings that song after a demon pulls his head off!”

Kenji might have been a disreputable Buddhist at best, but he was a loyal one. “Your pardon, my lord,” he said dryly, “but some followers of the Eightfold Way do know a thing or two about demons.”

I held up a hand. “That may be true, but it’s not relevant to the matter at hand. And, Master Daiki, I’d consider it a personal favor if you’d let me speak to the abbot before you ‘accidentally’ drop a club on him.”

“As you wish.” The man practically growled the words.

We received word that the abbot was detained but would greet us shortly. I wanted to use that time to attend to an unpleasant but necessary duty. We entered the hall where the monks were chanting sutras. The bodies had been laid out on four biers in the center of the hall. They had already been washed as was the custom. Kenji spoke a word to the monks on duty, and they ceased their chants and withdrew, though not without a few scowls in my direction.

“Master Daiki, you knew these people. What follows may be a bit indelicate. You may not wish to see it.”

“There is little I have not seen, Lord Yamada,” he said, but the anguish on his face was plain. I resolved to do what I needed to do as quickly as possible.

One by one I went to each bier and pulled aside the white funeral robes covering the body, and one by one the story they told was the same. Both the men and women had been killed in the same fashion – several powerful sword blows. One poor girl, probably no more than fifteen, had been cut nearly in half. Brute force was evident but no art. Any competent swordsman would have done the job with one stroke each and no wasted effort. What had happened to Lady Takara’s attendants was sheer butchery by comparison. I covered the last body.

“Curious,” I said. “Even if taken by surprise, the two
bushi
should have given a better account of themselves. It’s clear that whoever attacked them did not really understand swordsmanship.”

“Bandits are noted for viciousness, not for skill,” Master Daiki pointed out. “It’s possible the guards were simply overwhelmed.”

“Judging from the number of sword-cuts and the lack of consistency in angle of attack, I’d say you were right.”

“Something’s bothering you, though,” Kenji said.

“Many things are bothering me at the moment,” I said. I did not mention that the least of them was the sheer
enthusiasm
of the attack. Bandits were often deemed vicious by the simple necessities of their chosen profession, and there was no denying that some even took pleasure in that viciousness. Yet I couldn’t get past the feeling that whoever had done this had enjoyed it to a degree beyond anything I had ever seen before or ever hoped to see again.

We had just emerged from the funeral hall when the abbot approached. He was an old man, frail, discreetly supported by two young monks on either side.

“Forgive my tardiness, Master Daiki. At my age one cannot move very quickly.”

Daiki gave a perfunctory bow. “Abbot Hideo, this is Lord Yamada and his associate Kenji-san. They are acting on my behalf.”

Hideo raised an eyebrow. “Indeed? We only just learned of your wife’s unfortunate encounter.”