The nun Tomoko appeared by the screen which led to our quarters the next morning. She was holding a small bundle tied up in a square piece of blue cloth. “I’ve brought some things for Mai-chan,” she said. “Would . . . would it be possible to see her?”
I saw no reason to object, but considering Mai’s reaction to returning to the nunnery, I wondered if her reluctance might extend to anyone who had shared the ordeal with her. As we opened the sliding door, I soon learned this was not the case.
Mai awoke, but rather than shying away, she seemed genuinely happy to see the old woman. Even so, Tomoko-ana had no more luck drawing speech from the girl than I did. The old woman kept her visit short, but just before Tomoko-ana left, she took me aside.
“Perhaps Mai would like to send Lady Rie a written message?” I asked. “I can find some ink and paper.” I had planned to do so anyway, on the assumption Mai would perhaps be able to answer some questions if she could write her answers rather than trying to find her voice.
Tomoko-ana smiled her gap-toothed smile. “I’m afraid Mai’s parents were illiterate, and she never learned to read or write. We had planned to teach her, but she hadn’t been with us for very long. I understand from Lady Rie that Mai must remain here for now, but perhaps your sister can visit Mai-chan later, when her duties permit. While—praise to Buddha—the new priests the Shibata sent are beginning to arrive, there is still much for us to do.”
“I’m sure Mai would like to see her whenever it is convenient. Until then, rest assured that I will be watching over her.”
The old woman smiled again. “Just so you know, Lady Rie said if it had been any other man on earth, she’d have gotten Mai away from him if she’d had to beat him to death with a club. As it is, she may want to have a serious talk with you.”
“I have no doubt of it. While I welcome her conversation, please assure my sister violence will not be necessary. I will gladly return Mai-chan to your care as soon as she is ready and willing to go.”
“I must admit the change of residence seems to agree with her,” Tomoko-ana said. “She seems much calmer. Perhaps you were right in that her memories of the attack on the nunnery are too vivid. Maybe it is for the best she is here with you for now.”
The old woman took her leave then. Kenji left as well, only to return shortly carrying our breakfast of rice and broiled fish. “Usually an army knows no better arrangement than to strip the surrounding countryside bare, but this is undoubtedly not an option here. The Shibata and, as I understand it, the governor of Echigo are both funneling supplies through the town of Yahiko, and Lord Yoshiie had the temple’s own kitchens pressed into service, in addition to dispersing cooking stations within the camps. I’m rather impressed by his level of organization.”
“Lord Yoshiie knows what he is about, so far as armies are concerned. I’m surprised the Abe have lasted this long, even with magical assistance.”
I was going to fetch Mai then, but there was no need. I heard the door to her room slide open and she emerged, apparently drawn by the heady scent of food. While it was not customary for noble-born men and women to eat together under most circumstances, the folk of the countryside observed no such niceties, and I had lost enough of my pretensions—Rie would perhaps say “culture” instead—over the years not to care about such things. The three of us ate together in silence, and I noted that, whatever else might have been amiss with Mai, her appetite was very healthy indeed. I took this as an encouraging sign.
We had just finished our meal when a courier arrived from Lord Yoshiie, and I was summoned to the main hall of the temple. I was more than a little concerned about leaving Mai in Kenji’s care, not because I believed he might go back on his word, but because of Mai’s reaction. But when I simply told her I had to leave for a while and she was to remain with Kenji until I returned, she took the news very calmly and merely bowed to me when I finished my instruction.
“Your best behavior, Kenji-san,” I said.
“Whatever it is you think I might do, taking advantage of the helpless is not among them,” he said stiffly.
“I know. I just felt the necessity of needling you a bit.”
I left them and went to the main temple building, where I found Yoshiie and the Shibata Clan chief pouring over a map spread across the hall floor. So intent were they upon the map it was a few moments before they noticed my presence.
“Lord Yamada, I am concerned about Abe no Yasuna. He has not been seen since last evening. Did you speak to him, by any chance?”
“No, my lord, although in truth I had planned to before . . . before I was needed elsewhere. I did see him in the compound just before dusk, however.”
“As did several people, but not since. I would like for you to search for him, if you would indulge me. I would send scouts, but as you can imagine, they are all rather occupied currently. If you cannot find him, I need to know this as well.”
“Certainly, my lord,” I said, and quickly withdrew.
I knew the possibility of another sneak attack, this time probably from Abe bushi striking across the border, had to be on Lord Yoshiie’s mind, so his scouts would be occupied indeed. The possibility Lord Yasuna might seek to slip away and return to the capital was one which had never occurred to me. The man had given his word, and I knew him to be the sort of man who did not break his oath, once given. Besides, if he did return without permission, there would be consequences, even for someone as highly placed and influential as Lord Yasuna. There would be much more severe consequences to the Emperor’s mission and Lord Yoshiie personally if anything had happened to him.
If he has come to grief, I shudder to think what Lady Kuzunoha will do.
She had been very plain about her intentions, and I knew her to be one who kept her word, as well. The situation could be far worse than I had imagined. I wondered if the best I could hope for would be Lady Kuzunoha had appeared to him and persuaded him to flee, but there were two strong arguments against such optimism. The first was she had told me she did not intend to enter the temple compound again, and I believed her. The second was she would not show herself to her former husband unless the situation was dire indeed. If Lady Kuzunoha had been a human woman instead of a fox-demon, I had no doubt she and Lord Yasuna would have gladly grown old together. This became impossible once it was clear to Lady Kuzunoha she would not be able to live as a human without the chance of her true nature being discovered, thus bringing shame on her husband’s clan. I had been of some assistance to both Lady Kuzunoha and Lord Yasuna during that difficult period, and no one understood their sad situation better than I. A meeting would do nothing but tear open old wounds.
I considered other possibilities. One was that he had decided to escape and join his distant relations in Mutsu, but the northeast countryside was crawling with Minamoto scouts. There was simply no way he could evade them. Southwest to the capital? More likely, but there were pickets on all the roadways now, and someone would have seen him. Besides, it would have been extremely foolish to attempt the roads alone, and I knew Lord Yasuna to be no fool. But just to satisfy myself, I left the temple grounds long enough to confer with the guards and anyone present who might have noticed a lone nobleman wandering about. As I expected, no one had seen him.
Strange. How could he have left without being caught or seen?
When the answer came to me, I could have cursed myself for a fool. I ran to the back wall of the temple compound, leaving several startled priests in my wake, only to find one of the rope ladders hanging down over the wall. Either someone from the outside had entered, or someone had left. I made an educated guess as to which, and made a note to ask Yoshiie to either destroy the ladders or post a guard, but that last had to wait. I climbed up and over and back down into the ravine. I moved as cautiously as I dared, but there was no sound except the occasional call of a crow. There were fewer of the birds now, but they were still a common sight around the unfortunate temple. I looked but could not see where the call had come from. I kept moving all the way to the end of the ravine, and I was back at the beach.
Lord Yasuna was there.
He had found a rock to sit on about twenty feet from the surf and was staring out over the sea. The waves were steady and calm, but there were dark clouds on the horizon. I made my way down to the beach and walked up beside him, making no effort at stealth. He kept looking out over the water.
“It seems we may have a storm coming,” I said.
“If I were a braver man,” he said, “I would be gone before it arrives.”
I took a slow breath, wondering how much honesty this conversation was capable of sustaining. There was no choice except to find out. “I don’t believe we’re speaking about the same thing, Lord Yasuna.”
“Living is one storm after another, and as long as one does live, one cannot avoid them all,” he said
“There are those,” I said, “who are concerned for your well-being.”
“Why should they be? I am not. If I were a braver man . . . ” He didn’t finish.
“You would have walked into the sea by now?” I asked.
He finally looked at me. “Have you ever done something you’ve regretted, Lord Yamada? I mean truly regretted, to the core of your being?”
I didn’t even need to pause to think. “Yes, Lord Yasuna. I have.”
“How do you live with it? How do you make it right?”
I considered all the things I could have said to him, all platitudes and hollow things I didn’t believe. When they were all dismissed, the only thing I had left to say was the risky, dangerous truth. “You cannot make it right, Lord Yasuna, because such things can never be undone.”
“Then my only choice is to die,” Lord Yasuna said. “This was my own conclusion.”
“And take your regret to the grave? How many more ages in hell would this require? No, Lord Yasuna, one has to live as deeply and as long as one can. It’s true the past cannot be changed, but the future is like blank paper and it lets you create something closer to your heart. You can work to lessen the suffering you have caused, heal the injuries you created. I do not know what your regret may be or how deeply you feel the weight of it, but I tell you this, as one with more regrets than I can count—whatever it is, you must find ways to make certain that as few people as possible pay the price for your mistake from this day forward. Only the living can do this. The dead have no part to play.”
“You are very kind, Lord Yamada,” he said, after a few moments’ silence.
I quickly dismissed the notion. “Lord Yasuna, there is no kindness in anything I have said to you, for I personally know how difficult such a path is to walk. Telling you to let the ocean tides take you would have likely been kinder.”
He kept his silence for a while, and I kept my own. He finally turned to me again. “I will think about what you have said. For now, perhaps it would be best to return to the temple.”
We walked together up the bluffs to the ravine and back toward the temple. I heard the crows calling again.
“Don’t you think it’s strange?” Lord Yasuna asked.
“What is strange?”
“The crows,” he said. “Following us the way they have. Surely you noticed?”
“I have,” I said. “Does the smell of death cling to us?”
“Likely so,” he said. “Sometimes I think I can sense it upon me. Still, it is unusual behavior, don’t you think?”
I did indeed. And with just a little more reflection, I was pretty certain I knew what Lord Abe no Yasuna’s regret was. I sincerely hoped I was wrong. When the time came, that idea would need to be tested, but now was not the time. I saw Lord Yasuna safely back into the temple compound and then climbed the rope rungs again myself, only this time I was very careful to cut each ladder loose and leave them all in a pile down in the ravine. No one else would be coming or going from that direction for the immediate future. That left only three gates to watch, which, in my current circumstances, were still far too many.
I found the proof of this when I returned to our quarters to find Kenji and Mai both missing. A courier soon directed me to the main hall, where I found Kenji placing wards on all the doors and windows.
“The guards would likely suffice, but it’s best to be safe,” he said.
“Kenji-san, what’s happened?”
“I destroyed a shikigami inside the compound not more than an hour ago. It had disguised itself as an abnormally large mamushi, but I knew what it was the moment I saw it.”
I remembered to breathe again. “Well . . . a strange choice of disguise considering where we are—I’ve never seen many snakes this far north myself—but we’ve been expecting something of the sort, and a venomous snake is a natural for a shikigami assassin. Is Lord Yoshiie all right?”
“Quite all right,” Kenji said grimly. “It seems the snake wasn’t after him in the first place.”
“Not . . . ? But who was it after?”
He looked at me. “Mai-chan.”
For a moment I felt dizzy. “But . . . that makes no sense! Is she . . . ?” I couldn’t finish.
“She is alive and lucky to be so,” Kenji said. “And you are right—it makes absolutely no sense. What would any of the onmyoji or Lord Sadato have to gain by harming Mai? I’m astonished they even know of her existence, but obviously one of them does.”
At this point I was not surprised at anything Lord Sadato and his minions knew, but what did surprise and puzzle me as much as it did Kenji was why an attempt had been made on Mai’s life in the first place. “Can you tell me what happened?”
“After you left, Mai followed me as I assisted the Shibata priests, but there was less that needed doing now, and we returned to our quarters. I don’t think Mai slept well last night, since she started yawning and withdrew to her room. Just as she did, I felt the presence of one of these creatures and started after her, but no sooner had she closed the screen than she screamed and threw it open again and ran into the hallway with this thing close behind her. It looked like a mamushi, as I said, but it was bigger than any such snake I’ve ever seen. Its fangs were as long as my thumbs! It ignored me and chased after her, but fortunately I was able to catch up and brain it with my staff before it caught the poor girl.” He pulled a battered piece of paper from a pouch on the ties of his robe. “Look at this.”
It was clearly the remains of a shikigami but relatively crude compared to most of the ones I had seen lately. I studied the calligraphy carefully. “This reminds me of Lord Tenshin’s work, but it’s far too crude. Possibly one of Abe no Sadato’s lesser minions is responsible, or an apprentice to Tenshin.”
Kenji nodded. “That was my impression as well. The snake, not even considering its abnormal size, wasn’t very convincing as a living creature, but I have no doubt, if it had managed to bite Mai, she would be dead now. She’s under guard in one of the outbuildings until I’m done; then she’ll be returned to our quarters.”
“I’ll need to report to Lord Yoshiie now, but as soon as we’re both able, we’d best check on her.”
“Agreed.”
It was only the work of a few moments to gain admittance to the temple hall and inform Lord Yoshiie that Lord Yasuna had been found and where. He accepted my explanation, which was the man had shown poor judgment in going off alone but had not intended to leave. Which, I knew, was not completely true but close enough to the truth to fit the situation. For my own part, I was relatively certain Lord Yasuna was no longer a threat to himself or others. Which did not mean the matter was entirely closed.
“I can understand his melancholy,” Lord Yoshiie said. “One such as Lord Yasuna is a creature of the capital. This must all be very strange and unsettling to him. I do regret the necessity of his presence, but perhaps it will not be for very much longer. I have reliable reports from my father that the Abe are in some disarray.”
“Forgive my asking, but do you have any indication as to what caused this disturbance among the Abe?”
“Apparently an internal matter of some sort, yet I do not believe for a moment that Lord Sadato is ready to submit to the Emperor’s will.”
Neither did I. The history of this conflict was one of pain and loss on both sides, and I fully expected it to end in the same manner, but that was mostly Lord Yoshiie’s concern. He personally, Lord Yasuna, my sister, and the surviving nuns were mine, and they were more than enough. I took my leave then and found Kenji again. “Let us go see Mai.”
I hoped she would not blame me for not being there when she had been in danger, but she seemed genuinely glad to see both of us. She had been brought her mid-day meal under Kenji’s instructions, but there were portions waiting for us as well. Mai herself served us with very passable skill. Considering what had happened, she seemed remarkably undisturbed. I did notice her face seemed to grow more animated when Kenji spoke to her. Kenji noticed my noticing.
“This started even before the snake,” he said. “I think I remind her of someone, someone who she considered a kindly and harmless old man Actually, Lord Yamada, I find her attitude a bit insulting.”
“You’d best hope she keeps it, for your sake. Otherwise my sister will be after both of us with a very large cudgel. Regardless, you do realize Mai-chan can hear you?” I asked. “I wonder if she understands your implication.”
Kenji grunted. “I know she can hear me, and I’m sure she does understand. She thinks it’s funny.”
I was astonished to see Kenji was correct—Mai was smiling, although she’d clearly learned enough decorum from the nuns to hide her mouth with her hand as she did so. I hoped this was an indication of her further recovery, but time would tell.
“I need to know more about the snake. I assume it got into her room through the shutters?”
“There’s no other way it could have. I’m a fool for not warding our rooms yesterday, but it never occurred to me someone would send an assassin after us, with Lord Yoshiie the person here who matters.”
“Not ‘us.’ Mai specifically. Besides, Lord Yoshiie has very loyal and dedicated guards both around the perimeters of his quarters and within. A shikigami so crudely made would have been spotted by any of them, especially since most of Yoshiie’s men have some experience with the creatures. I am forced to the conclusion this construction was never a serious threat to Lord Yoshiie, and therefore Lord Yoshiie was not its intended victim. Mai was. You said as much yourself.”
“It could just as easily have entered our quarters as Mai’s, but it did seem focused on her completely. But kill Mai? Why?” Kenji asked. “Can you tell me what possible reason there might be?”
Mai’s cheerful mood had naturally gone more somber as we spoke, but I didn’t feel comfortable leaving her alone again, and there were things Kenji and I needed to discuss. Since most of it concerned her, I couldn’t deny Mai had a right to know.
“The only reason Mai is here in the first place is because I planned to question her about the day of the attack, once she regains her voice, and this was only for the sake of being thorough. If someone else knew this, one could deduce this someone does not wish me to discover what Mai might know. Yet what could she possibly have seen that would make a difference now? For all that I do want to talk to her, I’m not sure what she could add we don’t already know.”
“She might not know anything,” Kenji said, and then turned to the girl. “But obviously there is someone working in the shadows who thinks—or fears—otherwise. Mai-chan, I know you cannot talk yet, but perhaps you can tell us this much somehow—did you see something during the attack? Something unusual, something that perhaps an enemy would not want known? Please think carefully.”
Simple and direct. The response was the same—Mai began to weep. Then her mouth moved. No sound came out of it, but the shape it made as Mai tried to push out a word with her breath was very familiar.
“Hai. That’s what she’s trying to say, Kenji.”
There was no doubt in my mind, now. Mai did see something, and for this, someone among our enemies wanted her dead.
Kenji was livid. “How? How did they know? Do they have eyes in every tree?”
“Remember what I had said about our enemies tracking our every move? They are still doing it, and so they know about Mai. It’s the only explanation which makes any sense to me.”
“Again, how?”
“ ‘Eyes in every tree,’ isn’t that what you said? You may be closer to the truth than you know. I think it’s time we found out. Mai? We need to go outside, and I want you to come with us.”
The girl obeyed, but she and Kenji both appeared puzzled as I led the way out into the temple courtyard. There were still a few crows about but, as I had observed earlier, far fewer of them now that the bodies had been removed. I found Akimasa with his contingent of men on guard duty near the main gate. “Master Akimasa, who is your best archer?”
Akimasa didn’t even hesitate. “Tokisuge, my lord,” he said.
“If you don’t mind, I’d like to see a demonstration.”
Akimasa seemed a little bemused but quickly agreed. “As you wish, Lord Yamada. What is the target?”
“Let’s clear this section here,” I said, indicating the right side of the courtyard. The few people there were quickly relocated. I took a bamboo pole and used my dagger to score one section until I was able to break it off, yielding a piece about five feet long. “We can use the wall itself as a berm to make certain no arrow goes astray.”
I found a soft patch of ground near the wall and pushed the pole in until it could stand upright. On top of it I place a small piece of melon rind which some careless diner had discarded in the temple garden. I then paced off a distance of eighty feet while Akimasa brought his archer forward, a lean young man I’d guess to be in his mid-twenties, with long fingers and a rather sharp nose
“You are Tokisuge-san?” I asked.
“Yes, my lord. You wanted me to see me shoot?”
“I do. Can you hit that bit of melon?”
He frowned. “At this distance, my lord? Any of us could hit it.”
“I will require you to prove this, in your own case, but a demonstration will be enough. Please take your position.”
Tokisuge took his place at the mark I had defined, but before he took his arrow to draw, I leaned forward and whispered “Forget the melon rind. Your real target is perched at the top of that maple tree behind us. You will have to shoot quickly, and I do suggest you use a line-cutter. Clear?”
“Yes, my lord.”
I stepped back. “Whenever you are ready,” I said aloud.
Tokisuge selected a different arrow than the one he had intended and drew. He held the draw for a moment or two and then pivoted smoothly in place, raised his bow and let his arrow fly.
“Craaww . . . !”
The creature’s scream was almost like a real crow as the arrow cut through it. As I had suggested, Tokisuge had used a type of arrow commonly called “the frog’s crotch,” an inverted point with two blades sharpened on the inside edges which could cut a ship’s lines or a man’s throat, depending. In the case of the false crow, it cut it nearly in half, but what fluttered to the ground was no more than a piece of paper.
“A fine shot indeed,” I said. “Thank you for the demonstration.”
“What was . . . ?” Tokisuge began, but it was clear he already knew.
“You were with Lord Yoshiie on the previous campaign, weren’t you?”
“Yes, my lord. We lost several good men to those . . . are there any more of those things about?”
“If you see any, you have my permission to treat them the same way.”
Tokisuge looked grim. “With pleasure, my lord. With pleasure.”
Word spread through the camp quickly, as I had expected, but the summons to Lord Yoshiie’s presence came almost sooner than I believed it would. Since both my and Kenji’s attendance was required and I wasn’t about to leave Mai alone, she came along, kneeling at a discreet distance. Lord Yoshiie sat on a folding chair on the dais as Kenji and I kneeled before him.
“Lord Yamada, we knew we were being spied upon, but when did you discover I was being spied upon by crows?”
“Only today, my lord, and it wasn’t a crow, as I’m sure you realize. It was a shikigami in the form of a crow. Your experience of them is in an approximation of the human form, but they can take almost any shape the onmyoji desires. I apologize for not realizing what they were sooner, but under our current circumstances, a few crows are to be expected, and since they kept their distance, as a crow normally would, it made their true natures difficult to detect.”
“Then what aroused your suspicions?”
“I owe this to Lord Yasuna. He noted a few of the crows were acting strangely, which in hindsight had also occurred to me. So I asked one of Akimasa-san’s archers to help test the idea. As you noted, we already knew our movements were being shadowed. Now we know how. Since some of the archers have scores to settle, I think it unlikely there will be a crow that dares show itself for the balance of our journey, shikigami or otherwise.”
“Which cannot begin soon enough, to my way of thinking. My father waits for us in Dewa, but he has sanctioned the delay under the circumstances.” Yoshiie looked grim. “No wonder my scouts found nothing. How much do you think the spies discovered?”
“Other than our precise movements, and numbers? More than enough to plan the initial attack. Since that failed, we can expect either Lord Sadato or those acting in his name to try again.”
“Another reason we should be on the move, Lord Yamada. How can we be sure there are no more of these things lurking within the camp itself?”
“Your pardon, my lord,” Kenji said, “but I would have detected any such if I even came near it, as would any priest worth his training. As Lord Yamada said, it was only the distance which kept either of us from detecting these crow-things from the start. A creature within the compound would be easier to conceal, true, but also much easier to detect.”
I hope you’re not forgetting about Mitsuko, I thought, but I knew he wasn’t. There was no point in going into such matters with Lord Yoshiie, but it was of great concern to me. While I was good at recognizing the normal run of shikigami and Kenji could sense them even in the dark, neither Kenji nor I could spot such a one as Mitsuko by sight or proximity, unlike the mamushi.
Yoshiie scowled. “I feel like the target on an archery range sitting here, yet circumstances will keep us at Yahiko-ji for at least another week. The governor of Echigo arrives day after tomorrow with additional men, so he in turn must pay his respects to the fallen, and there will be a feast in their honor which will take time to organize properly. After which we can in good conscience leave the balance of the funeral rites to the priests. For my father’s sake and the good of the Minamoto Clan, I need to live to fight Lord Sadato one more time, so I will continue to depend on you gentlemen in this matter.”
“We remain at your service, but may I make a request, Lord Yoshiie?”
He frowned. “What is it?”
“When the time comes to have your feast, would you order each member of your personal guard drink a cup of saké beforehand? If it is your command, no one will refuse.”
“I do not think refusal their possible refusal would be an issue,” he said, almost smiling. “But why?”
“You do remember what defeated the shikigami at the Widow Tamahara’s?” I asked.
“Ah. Indeed.”
“If it humors my lord to give a reason, say it is in honor of Tokisuge’s fine shot today.”
“One cup will impair no one—certainly not those men. Easily done. Also, I will require Master Kenji’s and your own presence.”
We bowed. “It will be an honor.”
Also, I realized, an opportunity to ferret out a soul-created shikigami, if any were present. At a feast, everyone would be expected to eat or drink, thus making it very easy to discern someone who was not doing either, other than the guards. Thus the honorary cup of saké. It was clear to me now the forces which had made more than one failed attempt on Lord Yoshiie’s life were a long way from giving up. The crow and the snake had proven it. Then there was the failed attempt at the temple—it had raised the stakes considerably. If Lord Yoshiie lived to bring his new, larger army to bear on the Abe Clan, it was hard to see how Lord Sadato could avoid his clan’s destruction. Under such circumstances, I was not about to forget the example of Mitsuko. Master Chang had handed Lord Tenshin a very powerful weapon. It defied common sense to believe for a moment he would not attempt to use it. Which left three questions I needed to answer before it was too late: “When,” “how,” and—perhaps most of all—“who.”
“The sooner we are away from this place, the better,” Kenji said after we were dismissed. We were walking back to our quarters, with Mai dutifully following. “There is something not right here, and I think Lord Yoshiie’s chances of survival improve if he’s a moving target.”
“I think he is of the same opinion. Have you sensed anything?”
“Nothing definite. Nothing clear. It’s just a feeling, but it’s getting stronger. I don’t like it.”
“That’s close to what Lady Kuzunoha said.”
“Lady Kuzunoha is a fox-demon, and you know my opinion of such creatures,” Kenji said, then sighed and continued. “That doesn’t mean she’s wrong.”
We walked in silence for a bit, but then something occurred to me. “Have you seen Taro in the last two days?”
“Not since he led your mount away after the fight with the assassins,” Kenji said. “The beast had been slightly injured, and I imagine he is tending it. The horses are being stabled in a temporary paddock outside the south wall, and there you will likely find him. After all, the horses are his primary responsibility, not you and I.”
“I understand that. He’s just a detail I’ve overlooked. I don’t want to make a habit of such things. It could cause a lot of people to die, not just Yoshiie.”
“Then visit him, if you are concerned. Personally, I’m not going near those creatures until it is time to ride again.”
I made a mental note to do that very thing, but I had other matters to see to first. I judged there to be a few hours of daylight left, and I wanted to make use of them. I stopped and beckoned Mai forward. “Mai, I’m going to need to leave for a little while. I want you to stay close to Master Kenji. Do you understand?”
“ . . . ai.”
“She spoke!” Kenji said. “Well, almost.”
It was a sound. Interpreted as a fragment of a word, it was a reasonable response to my instructions. Perhaps it would not be so much longer before Mai could reveal what shock and terror had buried within her. Until then there was much to do. I smiled. “Oh, and Kenji—not too close. Clear?”
“Do not worry. Just do not be gone any longer than you can avoid. After all, I am just a kindly old man. I may need help with the next snake.”
“Don’t pout, Kenji-san. It’s not dignified.”
I took my leave before Kenji chose to explain his opinion of “dignified,” as I was certain this was not the sort of language a young woman like Mai should hear, peasant farmer’s daughter or not. I made my way across the compound and passed through the gates to the nunnery. I found my sister and Tomoko-ana arranging bundles on the veranda of the nunnery’s lecture hall.
“Kind of you to visit again,” Rie said. “Or have you forgotten about your sister already?”
“I never did forget about you,” I said. “Even if it’s true I never expected to see you again in this life. What are you doing?”
“Gathering the personal belongings of our fallen sisters. As you might expect, none of them owned much, but perhaps their families would want such mementos as there are. Our prioress was the sister of the Shibata Clan chief, Muramasa.”
“I didn’t know.”
“It’s not something she herself made much of, but he did visit from time to time. I had met him before on one of those visits, so I presumed to bring her belongings to him. Poor man, I think there was a tear in his eye.”
“He’s lost his sister. It doesn’t follow they were close, but his visits suggest he might have been so.”
“Or he was trying to get her to renounce her vows and become a marriage asset to the Shibata.”
“Was that what he was doing?”
She smiled a little ruefully then. “I have no idea. I really do not think so. Once she had renounced the world, had Lord Muramasa not already lost his sister? The world had no more claim on her, any more than it does with me.”
“Attachments are not so easy to sunder. Even for those whose will is strong and whose oaths are sincere. I still believe I do still have a sister, and care for her welfare, is why I kept my distance, until circumstance forced our reunion.”
“That was almost sweet, but let us not speak of what is past, brother. Our first parting was painful enough. I expect our next one to be no easier,” she said softly.
“Is there anything you need?”
She laughed then, covering her mouth with the sleeve of her robe. “The supplies I had gone to Yahiko to buy were delivered this afternoon. Considering that now they are merely needed for Tomoko and myself . . . and possibly Mai, later, I expect them to last for some time. Was this why you came here? I know it wasn’t just to see me, or you’d have managed to do so before now.”
My sister’s perception was as sharp as ever. “It’s true. I wanted to look around some more, if you don’t mind.”
She shrugged. “Certainly not, but what is the point of it?”
“Perhaps none, but I think it is odd that Mai is so frightened of this place. She refuses to go near it.”
Rie frowned. “You didn’t tell me this before, you just said you needed to talk to her. Her fear is very strange. Has she said anything?”
“Not yet, but she’s beginning to recover her voice.”
“I am pleased to hear it. Perhaps she can rejoin us soon, if this is her wish.”
I frowned. “Why wouldn’t she return?”
“Brother, were you not listening to me when I first spoke of her? She is not a nun, she was designated as a novice for convenience sake. Who can say? She may decide to remain with you, however I would attempt to dissuade her, for her own sake. You can barely look after yourself.”
“I should want to dissuade her as well, but I am taking better care of myself these days than I once did. At least now I’m making the effort.”
“From all I have been able to gather of you over the past several years, this is indeed a change. May I walk with you as you poke about? Tomoko-ana, can you handle this on your own?”
“There’s little enough to do,” the old woman said. “And I gather your brother will be leaving soon. I don’t mind doing the rest.”
Rie seemed to consider. “How soon?” she asked as she fell into step beside me.
“Perhaps a week, possibly a little longer. It depends on so many things.”
“I will be glad enough to see the backside of Yoshiie’s army. I can hardly pass by the gate without drawing leers. Imagine, at my age . . . They do not seem to be discouraged by the cowl I wear.”
“I know that if one attempted more, Lord Yoshiie would spike the man’s privates on a pole as a warning to the rest. Still, one cannot fault their taste. I remember your mother, possibly as well as you do. She was a beauty, and you did inherit much from her.”
Rie sighed. “Since the time our father died, I think I have learned possibly one new thing at most, which is simply this—detaching yourself from the world is easy. Persuading the world to detach itself from you? That is the hard part. Obviously, I have failed. Still, it was good to see you again, brother.”
I’m not sure what broke the final barrier. Perhaps it was the way my sister smiled at me, but the torrent was suddenly unleashed, and I could not stop it. “I’m the one who failed,” I said. “When our father died. If only . . . ”
She looked at me. “If only what?”
“If only I had not let myself fall to pieces the way I did. All those years . . . It was my responsibility to hold the family together. I failed. I wasn’t strong enough.”
“I do know a little about what inner devils you were fighting, brother, never think otherwise, but this one is strictly your own illusion. There was nothing left to hold together—Michiko’s marriage was already formalized. My mother had already left this sad world; your own mother was not long behind. The strongest man in the world could not have done better.”
“But you—”
Rie looked confused for a moment, and then she laughed at me. She stopped where she stood and nearly doubled over. It was neither dignified nor refined behavior in one such as my sister, but she did it anyway.
“What is so humorous?” I asked.
She regained control, but it clearly took an effort. “It—it was wrong of me to laugh at your pain, brother, and I do apologize, but for all this time did you actually blame yourself for my taking holy orders, believe that circumstances forced me to this?”
“Well . . . didn’t they? When our father was executed, and I was so useless . . . ”
Rie sighed. “Dear Goji-kun, do you really think you’re so grand that you are responsible for everything? Shall I now burst your illusions for you? I consider this important for your eventual salvation, but do you want to know the real reason why I took the tonsure?”
There was a faint roaring sound in my ears, and I felt dizzy. I waited a moment for the feeling to pass. “Yes. I would like to know.”
“There had been discussion of a marriage for me. I wasn’t against the idea by any means, but do you remember what happened when our father was ordered to Mutsu to assist Lord Sentaro? Just before he left? Think.”
“We wanted a game of shogi but couldn’t find the pieces. We finally located them on the veranda outside my mother’s apartments. Our father was visiting her at the time, and we . . . overheard them talking,” I said.
“Rubbish. We eavesdropped, and what we heard was our father promising to retire from public life once he had returned from his assignment in Mutsu. Retire and never leave her alone again. She always hated his frequent absences.”
I remembered. “I wasn’t surprised. I had expected something of the sort.”
“So did your mother. The next morning and for weeks afterward she was as happy as I’d ever seen her. But then our father did not return, and we soon learned he never would. That’s when I knew what I had to do.”
“I don’t understand,” I said.
“Is it so difficult? Our father loved your mother. I know what they felt for each other was very powerful. And still it was for nothing. Do you understand now? I knew then that, whatever attachments I made—even if they found me a husband I cared for as much as they cared for each other—sooner or later we would part. Losing our father destroyed your mother. She was never the same after his death, and so far as I’m concerned, she died long before her body succumbed. Her attachment to this world, embodied in our father, was what really killed her. It seems so silly, even now—an attachment to the world so strong that it took her from it! I vowed I would never be so foolish.”
“You—you had already decided?”
She smiled then, but it was a sad smile, and she did not bother to cover it. “You were too deep in your own despair at the time to consider my decision might have nothing to do with what you did or didn’t do. Your absence helped ease me into the life I chose, and I have been very happy in it, but I did not know you blamed yourself or indeed that you thought there was anything in my decision which called for blame.”
“I guess there wasn’t,” I said.
She sighed again. “None at all. I celebrate my choice and give thanks every day of my life. Honestly, brother . . . for someone with such a reputation for cleverness, in some matters you are a bit of a dolt.”
“That much I did know,” I said, “but thank you for enlightening me.”
This smile she did hide. “Oh, you are still a long way from enlightenment, I assure you. So. I do not suppose we will see each other again, once you leave this place. And it is probably best for both of us that we do not, so think of this as a last gift to my dear fool of a brother.”
I smiled. “What will you do when we are gone?”
“There is still myself and Tomoko-ana . . . perhaps Mai as well, perhaps not, but as long as there remains one of us, our community will survive. Others will join us in time, and the Shibata priests will tolerate us for their lord’s sake until we are re-established and self-sufficient again. Those murderers will not destroy what we have built here.”
I had already been feeling like an old wound had finally been washed clean, and now I also had my sister to thank for reminding me why I had come to the nunnery in the first place. “I almost forgot why I came here—I need to walk the around the walls of your compound,” I said.
“And I am happy to walk with you, for now. But whatever for? Did you not send those men already to examine our walls?”
“I did. I was thinking that, perhaps, I might notice something they had missed.”
She frowned. “What sort of thing?”
“I couldn’t possibly know until I see it.”
“Fine, but honestly now—at this point, does it really matter how they got in?”
“Perhaps not, but I can’t know that either, until I know how it was accomplished.”
Rie had no answer. She merely followed me as I slowly walked the limits of the nunnery compound. By the time I’d reached the back wall, I had to confess myself defeated—there was simply no way an attacker could scale the wall without leaving some evidence behind: a ladder, a rope, perhaps even a climbing pole, but there was nothing. I did not question Akimasa’s thoroughness—he knew what to look for and where, but there was no sign. I had placed my wager on a scaling ladder, something discarded into the underbrush on the outside of the wall where Akimasa’s men might have overlooked it, but the height of the wall dictated one on both sides of the nunnery’s wall. Unlike many temple compounds, the wall at Yahiko-ji was not merely for show. It had been built with defense in mind and stood higher than four tall men. Scaling the top of that wall with no way down would have gained an attacker nothing but a broken ankle.
“Any conclusions?” Rie finally asked.
“None which make any sense.”
“That would be ‘no’ then,” she said.
I had to admit she had it right. “By everything I have seen, it is simply not possible one of the assassins gained entry. Yet we know this did happen.”
“Our dead sisters are proof enough of this. I don’t know how they did it, but I confess I do not care. The ‘how’ of it makes no difference to the ones we mourn now.”
Nor should it, I though, but it still does to me.
“I’m going to ask you a question, sister, and I need an honest answer.”
“Brother, do you think I am inclined to lie to you?” she asked mildly.
I sighed. “I merely meant the question is a bit . . . indelicate.”
Rie raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”
“We all know monks and priests are not always in full accord with the vows of their orders, especially in, shall we say, matters of the heart?”
“You mean priests and monks sometimes take lovers? Yes, brother, I was aware of this. Some abbots are more tolerant of this behavior than others, but it does happen, as witnessed by the sealing of the back gate to the temple compound. Are you about to suggest my sister nuns might have been guilty of the same behavior?”
“Is it possible?”
“Honestly, brother. If you’re suggesting one of my sisters opened the gate for a lover who proved to be an assassin . . . well, yes, it’s possible. But consider how improbable it is! Such relationships do not develop without time and the right set of circumstances. Yet the attack on the nunnery could not have been more than a precaution to quell possible alarms, so why go to the trouble? Besides, quarters for the prioress and the senior nuns were always set closest to our rear gate by design. So the chances of anyone using the gate in such a manner—ever—without being discovered are remote at best.”
“Was that by design?” I asked. “You’re saying your prioress did not trust either the monks or the nuns under her supervision?”
Rie laughed. “I’m saying, brother, she trusted human nature to do as human nature often does. Honestly, aren’t you being far too clever? One set of rope ladders such as you discovered on the monks’ compound would have served just as well to get the enemy inside the nunnery with far less left to chance. Yet you find nothing.”
I clearly had been grasping at straws, and my sister had ably demonstrated how flimsy this particular straw was. I was at once chagrined and frustrated, but even a flimsy possibility was better than none. Except for the undeniable fact the nuns had been slaughtered, one would be forced to conclude the assassins could not have gained entry. I was baffled, and there were few conditions I hated more.
“You could be right,” I said. “Painful as it is to admit.”
“I am right,” she said. “And it won’t be the first time, brother. You’ll survive it. You always did.”