There were no incidents in our progress through Shinano. That is to say there were no attacks such as normal travelers might expect on a well-traveled but still isolated roadway, though such an attack certainly seemed less likely on a company as well-armed as ourselves. Any human bandits in the area clearly had the sense to avoid us entirely, but on the night before we were due to reach the Echigo barrier, several ragged thieves were caught attempting to pilfer our supply wagons. Lord Yoshiie had their heads mounted on poles by the roadside, and their bodies unceremoniously dumped over the side of the mountain road. The task was complete before he finished his evening meal. Soon after, I found our young horse groom, whose name I barely remembered to be Taro, losing his own meal by the side of the road in sight of the grim display. He stood up and wiped his chin as I approached. He couldn’t have been more than fourteen or fifteen, about the age Lord Yoshiie had been when he first went to war with the Abe. I hadn’t paid Taro much attention before, probably because I didn’t associate with the horses more than I had to. Now I saw only a frightened young man.
“I gather you’ve never seen a dead man before,” I said.
“My grandfather,” he said, “but not . . . ”
“Not like this?”
He barely had time to mouth the word “no” before he was bent over again, retching. Apparently the boy had already lost what little was in his stomach, since nothing came out, but I waited until he was finished. “There’s no shame in being sickened. It’s an appropriate response, but best to get it out now. Since we’re going to war, you’re likely to see death again, and probably not as tidily as Lord Yoshiie’s justice.”
He finally straightened again. He still looked a bit greenish in the waning moonlight, but his voice was steady. “Forgive my weakness. I will go see to the horses.”
“Yes, since you can be certain I will not. Besides, I’ve found if there’s something I don’t want to think about, doing something entirely different tends to help. Or drinking . . . but I don’t advise the latter.”
Kenji arrived just as Taro was leaving. He went up to the poles where the heads were mounted and took out his prayer beads. I would have joked about his poor choice of clients, unable to pay for his services as they were, but I didn’t have the energy to goad him. I felt tired, suddenly, and more inclined to silence. When Kenji’s prayers were finished, he walked over to where I was standing.
“I suppose we will see many more like them before this journey is done,” he said.
“It was kind of you to pray for them,” I said.
“Even though they cannot pay me?” Kenji asked mildly.
“I was thinking that. You have known me too long to doubt it,” I said. “And yet here you are, undoing all the good of my restraint.”
“Fate has decreed in this life I am to be a priest,” Kenji said. “As for what sort of priest I may be, well, fate is silent on the subject. It may be I do not always remember what the point of being a priest is. Yet I can assure you, Lord Yamada, there are those in some of the richest temples in Kyoto who never do remember. That’s assuming they ever knew.”
“I need not be persuaded on the point, since I daresay I’ve met more than a few of them myself,” I said dryly. “So why did you pray for those men, Kenji-san? I admit I am curious.”
“Because, judging from their ragged and half-starved appearance in life, it was a safe wager no one else would. I make that reason enough.”
Now and then Kenji did surprise me. It was part of the reason we’d been able to remain friends. Whenever I was feeling judgmental toward him, I usually managed to remember those times and turn my attention back to my own faults, which, it must be said, were abundant. For example, the reason I’d given for not visiting my sister was it was for her own protection, which was true as far as it went. That did not mean I wasn’t afraid to face her.
“I’m not suited for this,” he said after a long pause.
“Surely you don’t mean travel. You’ve visited more famous places in the country than I have, including the sea shore at Echigo.”
“No. I mean this,” he said and waved an arm back to where the army was camped. Their fires were like stars scattered across the mountainside. “So many souls about to be released back to the wheel of rebirth and death, thus to begin all over. And what can I do for them? I suspect the answer is—nothing.”
“They’re not why you’re here,” I pointed out. “Lord Yoshiie is our primary concern, and we must assure Lord Yasuna’s well-being so Lady Kuzunoha doesn’t feel compelled to destroy the Minamoto . . . and trying not to get young Taro killed so we can return him to his rightful master. I would think they are more than enough to worry about.”
Kenji grunted. “Far more than enough to worry about, considering our Lord Yoshiie has to defeat an entire army which can call on supernatural allies, but all the Abe Clan has to do is kill Lord Yoshiie. But none of this alters my other obligations as a priest.”
I had no argument worth posing. While Kenji’s piety was a sporadic thing at best and usually quite selective as to which tenets it observed, I knew it to be genuine, if often ill-timed and inconvenient. Kenji was what he was, and you might as well argue with a mountain.
During the night I dreamed I was keeping watch on the mountain road. The heads of the executed thieves kept me company.
“You don’t suppose you could fetch my body from the ravine?” the leftmost asked. “I was rather fond of it.”
“I can’t leave my post, and it wouldn’t do you any good even if I found the missing parts. Your body is broken beyond repair,” I said. “The crows will be along soon, and that will be the end of it.”
“Is this what death feels like?” asked the one in the middle.
“Having never died—at least that I can recall—I’m ill-equipped to advise you,” I said.
“You two should quit complaining,” said the one on the right. “We all knew this could happen.”
“It’s not a subject on which I’m prepared to be dispassionate,” said the first.
“Prepared or not, dispassionate or not, you’re all still dead,” I pointed out.
The middle thief begged to differ. “The dead don’t speak.”
“Ghosts often do, but you are not ghosts. You are three severed heads on poles. I would think in your place being dead would be an advantage. I would not want to be in your situation and still live.”
“Probably not possible,” admitted the third.
“Probably for the best,” agreed the second.
“You should go see Lady Kuzunoha,” said the first. “She’s waiting right up there.”
The three heads then fell as silent as the graves they had been denied. I glanced up toward the mountainside and saw the white fox-demon sitting demurely on a boulder not too far from the road. I made my way up to greet her.
“It seems the talking heads were correct,” I said.
“As a fox-demon I move between the worlds at need,” Lady Kuzunoha said, showing her sharp teeth in something resembling a smile. “Since I grew my third tail, it’s even gotten easy to do. The dead thieves could see me clearly. I am curious to know how you could hear them.”
“They were speaking to me,” I said.
“Yes, Lord Yamada, but how? What breath did they have for speech?”
“I hadn’t considered the matter,” I said. “It just seemed a natural thing.”
“It shouldn’t seem so. When great powers are invoked, the veils between the living and the spirit world can become easily torn. Even in your present situation, you should realize this.”
“My present situation?”
She sighed. “Dreaming. Only now you won’t be able to hold on to the dream. This is the way of things.”
She was right. Already she, the severed heads, the road, and even the mountains were growing less distinct.
“Before you go . . . ” Lady Kuzunoha dipped her muzzle to the stone and picked up a small object in her teeth. This she tossed at my feet. It was the remains of a shikigami.
“Lord Yoshiie’s scouts might miss one or two, as I expected, but you really should be more careful,” she said, and then the dream dissolved. I woke up, lying on my sleeping mat. Next to me was a battered slip of paper covered in teeth marks.
When I related the story to Kenji over the morning meal, he just shook his head.
“Such creatures were put into this world to trick and mislead the righteous,” he said piously. “However . . . if she must be here, I’m glad she’s working for us and not against.”
“She’s working ‘for’ us, as you say, only because our interests and her own are in harmony. This will likely not always be the case.”
“A problem, I hope, for much farther down the road,” Kenji said. “Or were you merely reminding yourself of this?”
“It is something best not forgotten,” I admitted. “I’ll feel somewhat better when both Lord Yoshiie and Lord Yasuna are safely inside Dewa, although ‘safely’ is probably not the right term to use. Say rather that neither is dead at the time.”
“By the way . . . you did say you have no intention of visiting your sister near Yahiko, correct?”
“I did.”
“You may not get your wish. I am reliably informed that, once we cross into Echigo, Lord Yoshiie intends to make a pilgrimage to both the shrine Yahiko-jinja and Yahiko-ji, the temple complex devoted to the goddess Kannon. This is where your elder sister is cloistered, is it not?”
I felt a little chill. “It is.”
“Well, you might be able to avoid her,” Kenji said, grinning. “But since I am also informed Lord Yoshiie plans to stay at the temple overnight, and our writ requires we remain near him, at the moment avoiding your sister does not appear likely . . . unless she is also avoiding you?”
I didn’t answer him. I briefly considered attempting to persuade Lord Yoshiie against the pilgrimage, but my own arguments sounded hollow to me. Making a show of piety and respect for the kami and the goddess alike before battle and receiving the blessings of both abbots and priests, on the other hand, made perfect sense as reassurance to his troops of the rightness of their cause. Even those who served strictly for the chance of spoils and rewards would expect no less. Plus, the temple compound itself, to my understanding, was walled and far more defensible than a campsite on open ground. Lord Yoshiie knew his business, but that wasn’t making mine any easier.
Fortunately, Lord Yoshiie’s forces were well on their way to breaking camp, and young Taro came leading our mounts, already saddled and bridled, through the chaos. He gathered up our sleeping mats and cooking utensils and the like and began expertly packing them up.
“Feeling better?” I asked.
He paused in his work long enough to bow. “I am well, Lord Yamada. Please do not concern yourself. I’ll see that your bowls are washed before the noon meal.”
I held the reins of my horse, a beautiful white mare—yes, I could dismiss them as stupid, obstinate beasts, but I could not ignore their finer qualities on an esthetic level, try as I might—as I watched Taro hurry off. “I’m not used to being waited upon,” I said.
Kenji smiled. “I could get used to it very quickly, but I’m trying not to do so. All things are impermanent, and the services of Prince Kanemore’s attendant? Doubly so.”
The column was soon ready to move, and Kenji and I mounted our horses and took our respective places. We crossed the barrier into Echigo early that same afternoon. Lord Yoshiie met briefly with a courier from the provincial governor, and by dusk in two day’s time we were approaching the temple complex at Yahiko. It was my understanding the governor himself would bring another detachment of bushi to add to our ranks before we crossed into Dewa.
“Mutsu borders on Dewa to the east, but at Echigo on its southwest corner. The Mutsu barrier is just a few leagues to the northeast,” Kenji said when he joined me again near the head of the column.
“Lord Yoshiie knows this. He’s sent a dozen or more scouts.” As I was riding closer to the head of the column, it was easy enough to observe at least the outward signs of discretion.
“Have there been any reports?” he asked.
“Three by my count, and so far nothing appears to concern our young leader. Besides, would Sadato risk drawing Echigo into the war directly by an attack across its border? The entire province mobilized to join the Minamoto and Kiyohara is not quite the same concern as the governor volunteering a few dozen bushi as a nominal demonstration of loyalty to the Emperor.”
“I keep forgetting war is more political than merely strategic or tactical. All I can seem to remember is that it gets people killed. I’m enough of a priest to disagree with this aspect of it all.”
I had no real disagreement with him. Personally, I wouldn’t give a rat’s tail for all of Mutsu province and three more besides. It had already led to the death of my father and the destruction of our family’s fortunes. I had long since reconciled myself to this, but that didn’t mean I was eager to re-open an old wound. None of which changed the reality that Prince Kanemore was my friend, and loyalties aside, I understood what was potentially at stake should the Minamoto fail. I was no great friend of the Minamoto and neither was Prince Kanemore, but allowing the country to fall into chaos would mean a great many more deaths and great misery besides, and I said as much to Kenji.
“We trade a few lives to save many more. Perhaps it is the right thing to do,” Kenji said. “That doesn’t mean no one will answer for those lives.”
“Then let it start and end with Lord Sadato and his murderous lackey, Tenshin.”
Kenji gave me a quizzical look. “I do believe you’re taking Lord Tenshin’s actions personally.”
“Probably much more than he himself is,” I admitted. “Maybe it’s the treachery against his brother that does not sit well with me. One who has lost most of his family might tend to overvalue them.”
Kenji laughed. “Lord Yamada, if you are in need of perspective, please consider I had three brothers, and hardly a day went by I didn’t want to kill at least one of them. I only meant you should not let your anger interfere with your judgment,” he said. “I know you can use the sword you carry and likely will have to do so before this business is over, but your sword is not why you’re here, any more than my staff is why I’m here. Your talent is your discernment. If that is compromised, you’re useless to everyone, including yourself.”
I took a long breath, and let it out. “I will keep what you said in mind.”
I couldn’t help but be annoyed, even though Kenji’s words were no more than sense. Neither of us spoke again until the northern barrier was in sight. We had skirted the village of Shirakawa deliberately, as we were well supplied and Lord Yoshiie wished to avoid any potential problems with the townsfolk of the sort that inevitably happened when large bodies of armed men passed through. I’m not sure if his motives were entirely altruistic or whether he simply wished to avoid calling attention to us. I suspected the latter, but regardless of the reason, we had made good time and had crossed Echigo province without incident. There was another messenger from the governor. I had made it a point to remain as close to Yoshiie as protocol and common sense allowed, and so I was able to hear when Yoshiie related the contents. The governor of Echigo would bring his contingent to join us in three days’ time. Until then, Yoshiie would be hosted at the temple near the village of Yahiko as he made his promised pilgrimages to the temple itself and the nearby shrine, Yahiko-jinja.
“Yoshiie-sama, pardon me, but how many people know about your plans to visit the temple?” I asked.
“Everyone in our army,” he said drily. “That was rather the point.”
“Yes, certainly,” I said. “But otherwise . . . ?”
“I had to reveal my plans to the governor of Echigo as a courtesy, and to the Shibata Clan chief. I imagine more than a few know by now, but I do know what your concern is. My scouts have reported already—the temple goes about its business as usual, and there is no one in the area who shouldn’t be there,” Yoshiie said. “The temple walls are strong and easy to defend if needed. I will be quite safe there.”
I bowed. “At such times I almost feel as if Prince Kanemore suffers from an excess of caution, to have sent me along. Yet these are the sorts of questions I must ask.”
He grunted. “Fail to do so, and I would question the good prince’s judgment. You will accompany my party within the walls . . . and your priest as well. Let it not be said I was uncooperative in regard to Prince Kanemore’s wishes.”
“I am grateful,” I said, and bowed again. Yoshiie rode some distance away to confer with the members of his bodyguard. I kept my distance until he returned to the head of the column. I did not want it said that I was overstepping my bounds. Yoshiie was barely tolerating our presence as it was. I didn’t entirely blame him—he had his own mission to worry about, just as I had mine.
Kenji rode close. “What are your concerns about the temple?”
“I should have none. It is secure and will be surrounded by loyal bushi. It’s clearly a much safer encampment than any we’ve had so far. I don’t like that our leader’s plans to stay there are so well known, but how could it be otherwise without defeating a large part of the reason for doing it?”
“Obviously, it cannot,” Kenji confirmed.
“We will accompany Lord Yoshiie’s party within the walls. Be on your guard.”
“Why?”
“Because there is absolutely no reason why being on our guard should be necessary.”
Kenji smiled. “To someone who knows you, Lord Yamada, that makes perfect sense.”
We saw very little on the balance of the journey to Yahiko, neither people nor animals. There were one or two carrion crows shadowing our path. Apparently they had been following us since the incident with the thieves, hoping for another meal, in which case they were disappointed.
We reached the temple compound in good order. I hadn’t been certain how much weight to give to the initial reports about the compound’s suitability for defense, but I was pleasantly surprised. The temple enclosure was on high ground, using the largest of several wooded hills to best advantage. The walls were of stone with red-tiled pitched roofs to divert the rain, and we could see the tops of the temple structures themselves tiled in the same manner, rather than with the more common cedar shingles. Raised wooden platforms had been spaced at intervals just inside the walls to serve as watchtowers, but as far as I could tell, only the one nearest the gate was currently occupied. While the hillside and even the interior of the temple walls had trees, the approaches had been cleared to give clear lines of site along the road leading to the temple complex.
Kenji and I were riding at the front of the column at Lord Yoshiie’s request.
“For a small temple they appear to be well provided for,” Kenji said.
“This is the family temple of the Shibata Clan,” Yoshiie said, “who are unrelenting in their support. If they were as supportive of the Emperor’s will, this war would have ended years ago.”
No doubt another reason Yoshiie chose this particular temple to make his pilgrimage. Honoring the Shibata in this manner cannot hurt his cause. My estimation of Lord Yoshiie as a politician as well as a military commander increased.
“It seems strange a nunnery would be included in the temple complex itself,” Kenji said.
There were as many reasons for a woman to take holy orders as for a man, but in general the mainline sects were either unconcerned or openly hostile to the idea of a woman achieving Enlightenment. There were exceptions but not many. As often as not, nuns formed their own communities or, when possible, continued to live as they had before, with their families, and continued their spiritual practices in, if not solitude, at least separation from others on the same path. That had not been an option for my sister Rie, who had come here instead.
“The nunnery adjoins but is separate from the main complex and has its own gate, for obvious reasons,” Lord Yoshiie said. “The nunnery itself was established many years ago by a member of the Shibata Clan who had taken the tonsure herself, and wanted a safe place for her spiritual practice. Apparently she was afraid, if she remained at home, her father would eventually arrange a political marriage for her, holy orders be sodded. As she was a generous patron, the abbot at the time agreed. Eventually other nuns joined her there and carried on after her death.”
“Your pardon, Yoshiie-sama, but I’m surprised you’re so well versed in the history of this temple,” Kenji said.
Yoshiie just grunted. “I appreciate good strategy, Master Kenji, wherever I find it, and by removing herself from her father’s direct control, the Shibata nun achieved her objective. The story speaks to me of someone who understood the value of a strategic retreat. Frankly, gentlemen, I did not wish to return to the capital at all after our last setback—my anger and shame at being defeated pressed me to return to the field, but the example of the Shibata nun allowed me to be persuaded that this was not the wisest course, so I chose to withdraw and regroup. Time will tell if I made the right choice.”
While I was listening to Lord Yoshiie tell his story, I could not help but fix my attention, briefly, on the fact there was a wall between the nunnery and the temple proper. I still believed it best that I called no attention to Rie’s presence or our relationship. Considering the forces at work against both Lord Yoshiie and me, I did not think this course overly cautious, and the promise of the wall and gate made me believe avoiding contact might be possible.
“More crows,” Kenji said.
I had noticed our followers from the execution of the thieves, but there were more of them, as Kenji had just noted. Perched in the trees on the grounds of the temple, a few on the walls and roof peaks. Normally a flock of crows would be a rather noisy thing, but these were almost silent. Lost in my own concerns, I had barely noticed them until Kenji pointed them out.
“There must have been a funeral recently,” Yoshiie said.
Death attracted them, and since it was the purview of temples to arrange and conduct funeral rites, a few crows loitering about would not be considered unusual. This was more than a few.
“Lord Yoshiie, would you be so good as to send your guard in first?” I asked.
He frowned. “Might I ask why? This is a pilgrimage, not the investment of a castle.”
I smiled. “A humble suggestion, nothing more. For such an important event, perhaps a small display and some pageantry might underscore its significance?”
“I hadn’t considered the matter in that way,” he admitted. “Very well.”
Lord Yoshiie gave the order, and two lines of bushi comprising about thirty men rode ahead of the column. Resplendent in yoroi hitatare bearing the Minamoto Clan crest, they did make for an impressive sight. As they approached, the gates to the temple swung open, and they rode inside, half to the left and half to the right, to maintain two separate lines in the inner courtyard. We followed as Lord Yoshiie rode between them to where the abbot of the temple waited to greet him. The monks of the temple lined up behind and in front of Lord Yoshiie’s party. We had ridden halfway to where the abbot waited for us when Kenji reined his mount toward me.
“Lord Yamada—” His voice was a harsh whisper. I raised my hand for silence.
“I see them,” I said.
The monks clustered close to the rack of spears near the wall was one more piece of the puzzle; if the situation wasn’t clear enough already we both heard the creak of the thick temple gates closing behind us and the consternation of the bushi behind us who had found the gates shut in their faces.
“I suppose I should have asked what the appropriate greeting to give an abbot might be,” Lord Yoshiie said.
“In this particular case? Simplicity itself,” I said.
“What is it?” he asked, but I was already drawing my tachi.
“Kill him!” I shouted.
To his credit, Lord Yoshiie barely hesitated, but that small delay nearly cost him his life. The “abbot” pulled a long dagger from his robes and sprang forward while Lord Yoshiie was still drawing his sword. I crashed my mount into the false cleric and sent him flying. I hadn’t meant to. My intention was to shield Yoshiie and turn my sword on his attacker, but my control of the skittish beast was not as precise as I had imagined. Still, it served the purpose, and while the man struggled to his feet, one of Lord Yoshiie’s archers put an arrow through the man’s throat. He fell back down and stayed there. Before I could turn back toward Yoshiie, one of the monks rushed me with a long spear, which I barely managed to deflect. The man knew his business, and it was only by reining to the side and spurring my mount so hard it jumped that I dodged the second strike. Another arrow sprouted in the man’s leg like a bloody weed, and I cut him down before he’d finished screaming.
By now the remaining archers had dropped their bows and drawn swords for close-quarters fighting. By my quick count, five of them had waited too long and were down, either wounded or dead. As many of the monks were in the same condition, and the fighting was fierce.
Sohei?
It was a reasonable guess, since bandits and rogue bushi were not uncommon, and most monasteries kept contingents of armed lay-brothers for self-defense. Then again, they didn’t normally disguise themselves as ordinary monks and acolytes—and certainly not as abbots. As much as I wanted to turn my mind to the puzzle, there was no time. We were outnumbered by at least half-again, and the outcome was far from certain. I was relieved to see Lord Yoshiie still in his saddle and fighting with the skill and intensity of a professional warrior. After seeing Yoshiie fight at the Widow Tamahara’s, I did not judge him to be quite at Prince Kanemore’s level, but then I didn’t know anyone who was. He was undeniably more skilled than I was, plus he used his mount to good advantage, keeping it moving, charging and retreating as the situation dictated. I urged my horse forward and managed to cut down another spearman attempting to attack Yoshiie from the rear.
“We have to keep moving,” he said, breathing hard.
I understood. We lacked numbers, but our one advantage was we were mounted and our opponents were not. Yoshiie shouted a command I didn’t understand, but apparently his guard did. The survivors quickly broke away from whomever they were fighting and rode to his side. There wasn’t a great deal of room to maneuver in the courtyard, but they used what space there was to regroup. I was about to join them when I noticed that Kenji wasn’t with them.
Has he . . . ?
The thought barely formed before I heard the shouting. While our attackers were concentrated on Lord Yoshiie and his bushi, Kenji had made a run for the gate. I could hear the shouts of our soldiers outside the wall, and the door shuddered as they attempted to force it down. Kenji was dismounted now, trying to raise the beam that held the gates closed with one hand while fending off two attackers with his staff held in the other, but the beam was too heavy for one man to lift, and the men pressing against the doors from the other side were not helping. I rode past one spearman and rode over another before my horse stumbled on something I couldn’t see and I went flying over its neck. I landed hard, and for a moment could see nothing except an explosion of stars, even as I struggled back to my feet. There was a slim blur on the ground that I prayed was my tachi and was rewarded with the familiar feel of its hilt as I reached down. My vision cleared enough for me to realize the only reason I was still alive was the closest monks were intent on stopping Kenji from opening the gate—they hadn’t even noticed me. I cut one down just as Kenji released the beam, took his staff in both hands, and cracked the skull of another. Shouts and furious threats came from our attackers as they realized the danger, but it was too late. Together Kenji and I managed to shift the beam, and the remaining troops burst through the gates and thundered into the courtyard just as Lord Yoshiie led his surviving guard in a charge from the opposite direction. I wish I’d had the presence of mind to call for prisoners, because in less time than it would have taken me in my younger days to drain a cup of saké, the fight was over.
Not a single one of the false monks was left alive.
“You’re bleeding,” Kenji said.
“So are you.”
We examined each other’s wounds, but neither of our hurts appeared to be serious. Apparently one of the spearmen had nicked my shoulder, and in the heat of the moment I hadn’t noticed. Kenji had a shallow cut on his leg but was otherwise unharmed. We were bandaging each other when Lord Yoshiie and several of his retainers rode up. He immediately dismounted.
“How did you know?” he demanded.
I winced as Kenji pulled the bandage tight. “I believe Master Kenji noticed them even before I did. What I saw was the outline of the abbot’s dagger in his sleeve. I would often do the same thing, in situations where a sword was too bulky and noticeable, so it was no trick for me to discern. What leader of a temple greets an honored guest armed? Not to mention the rack of spears, which wouldn’t be unusual in a training field for sohei, but in the temple courtyard? By the time they shut the gate behind us, their intentions were clear.”
“As for me,” Kenji said, “I’ve seen careless dress before, even in abbots. But no one had any idea how to wear a surplice correctly. It stood to reason these people were not who they appeared to be.”
Lord Yoshiie grunted, which was apparently as close to an acceptance of our reasoning as we were going to get. He turned to his men. “Search the grounds,” he shouted and then turned back to us. “Gentlemen, please come with me.”
Lord Yoshiie phrased his words politely, but it was not a request. We and two of his guards fell in behind as he entered the main worship hall adjoining the courtyard. We saw the first bodies immediately. They had been stripped of their priestly robes before being killed.
Rie . . .
It was all I could do to concentrate on what we were seeing, but there was no reason to believe the nunnery had been spared and even less when the first reports reached us: more bodies, stripped, apparently the real monks and priests of Yahiko-ji. Besides my concern for my sister, there was something else about the attack which nagged at my mind, but catching it was like trying to grasp a morning mist. For his part, now that the situation was resolved, Lord Yoshiie considered it from the perspective of tactics.
“The Mutsu border is not very far from here. My scouts reported no movement, but that was apparently because these assassins were already in place. It would have been easy enough to slip across the barrier disguised as merchants or refugees from the fighting. But to slaughter priests, to defile this sacred structure . . . Lord Sadato is my enemy, but I have always known him to be an honorable man. I would not have believed him capable of this.”
I spoke up. “Your pardon, my lord, but it’s possible he didn’t even know of it. If someone in his employ was tasked with your destruction, someone with a demonstrated lack of restraint, the precise method of your . . . removal could be a detail such a person might not share with his patron.”
Yoshiie scowled. “I assume you refer to Lord Tenshin. Perhaps so, but if it was done in Sadato’s name, then he is responsible. Besides, these were not shikigami who attacked us.”
“True, but shikigami would not have been a good choice for this sort of operation. The timing alone . . . ” I stopped.
“What is it, Lord Yamada?” Kenji asked.
“There was something about this whole matter that bothered me, I mean aside from the obvious point we could have very easily been killed. Now I know what it is.”
“I have you two to thank that we did not,” Lord Yoshiie said. “But what are you referring to?”
I took a slow breath, let it out. “The timing of the attack wasn’t merely adequate, it was nearly perfect. Consider—a temple is a busy place. There was no way such men as we fought could have kept up this pretense for any length of time. This temple receives pilgrims and visits from local people on an almost daily basis, any of whom would have realized something was amiss. No, in order for the attack to succeed, they would have to move their men into a position from where they could overpower the real monks and take their places with only a few hours’ notice at most. I am guessing we’ll find their encampment nearby if we search the woods surrounding the temple. This body,” I said, pointing to the corpse who appeared to be the late abbot, “has bled profusely, and yet the blood has barely had time to turn black. I’ll wager he was killed no more than an hour or two ago.”
“Impossible,” Lord Yoshiie said, “my scouts—”
“For all their diligence, are only human. Our every movement has been shadowed and reported hour by hour. I do not as yet know how, but it is the only explanation.”
From the look on his face, I knew Lord Yoshiie had reluctantly come to the same conclusion. “The sooner we know the answer to that question, the better. In the meantime . . . ” he turned to one of his guard. “Tell Toshiro I need him.”
I recognized the name as one of Lord Yoshiie’s couriers. The guard soon returned with the man in question, a short and wiry fellow wearing the Minamoto Clan colors, now spattered with blood. He immediately kneeled, but Lord Yoshiie pulled him to his feet. “Go to the Shibata Clan chief,” he said. “He’ll want to know what happened here.”
After the courier withdrew, Yoshiie added, “More to the point, I want him to know what happened here.”
“Your pardon, my lord,” Kenji said, “but unless we get luckier than I expect we’re going to, proving that the Abe Clan was behind this outrage will be very difficult. So far we’ve found nothing to tie this to Lord Sadato.”
“You’re thinking of the Emperor’s justice and courts of law,” Lord Yoshiie said, “but I’m thinking I don’t have to prove who the culprit is—I know. And so will the Shibata Clan.”
I could see his point. If whoever planned this attack hadn’t understood or ignored the consequences of failure, they were either far less intelligent or far more desperate than I had believed. I wasn’t relieved to know the second possibility was the more likely. A cornered animal was always the most dangerous.
“Lord Yamada, I will need a word in private,” Lord Yoshiie said.
Kenji bowed to him. “I have the feeling I am needed elsewhere,” he said. “Don’t you agree, Lord Yamada?”
“Yes . . . and thank you.”
Either I was getting easier to read in my dotage, or Kenji, who had known me longer than almost anyone, was simply developing his skills, but he knew what I wanted him to do, and he immediately left to do it. The guard withdrew to a discreet distance as I bowed.
“I am at your service, Lord Yoshiie.”
“Frankly, Lord Yamada, I had my doubts. You are here under Prince Kanemore’s auspices, and it is common knowledge Prince Kanemore is no friend of the Minamoto. Yet you have saved my life now on two occasions. My resentment of your presence appears to have been misplaced.”
I bowed lower. “As you are carrying out the Imperial will—and that is where Prince Kanemore’s loyalties are—I can assure you his offer of my assistance, worthless as it might be, was genuine. As is my determination to help you see the Abe Clan is brought to heel. Prince Kanemore understands the danger they present if Lord Sadato is allowed to consolidate and expand his influence.”
“So our interests coincide. For now. Fair enough and properly stated. But I still owe you a debt. What do you wish of me?”
“Only that you accept Kenji-san’s and my services, for whatever they might be worth, and place no unnecessary impediments before them. I will consider this gratitude enough.”
He almost smiled. “And will your friend settle for so little as well?”
If I had assumed Lord Yoshiie hadn’t paid much attention to either of us, the question shattered that assumption. “It is a great deal, in my opinion, but as for Kenji, well . . . if you could spare a token reward of rice and cloth, it would probably help convince him of the sincerity of your gratitude.”
Lord Yoshiie did smile then. “Done.”
Soon after, Lord Yoshiie recalled his guard and sent him to finish searching the remainder of the building, but he found no other bodies. As the guard finished his report, Kenji returned. Clearly, and unlike Yoshiie’s guard, he had seen more bodies. Many more, from the expression on his face.
“The nunnery?” Lord Yoshiie asked, impassive.
“Yes. Those poor women . . . ” Kenji looked as if he wanted nothing more than to be sick, but he took a breath and kept his voice steady. “Lord Yamada, I came to tell you . . . your sister . . . ”
I felt my brain and body go numb, and there seemed to be a mist rising around me, so thick and deep that I almost didn’t hear what Kenji said next.
“We’ve found her. She’s alive.”