“Was that all?”
I groaned. “Wasn’t that enough?”
It was a pleasantly warm day for early fall. We rode together with a smaller group of bushi escorting Princess Tagako on her excursion the next morning. We had made arrangements to meet with the remainder of the procession at a small shrine west of Asuka later that morning to resume our real journey, but for now we were on our way to a tomb. Considering the lingering effects of the night’s dream, I was not in the best humor for sightseeing, and Kenji’s skepticism was not helping.
“I’m not saying it wasn’t a visitation, Lord Yamada, as it very well might have been. But it would be wise, I feel, to consider a few things.”
“Such as?”
“Well, primarily—this image of Princess Teiko didn’t tell you anything you didn’t already know. Her desires? Her reasons for attachment to this world? What part of this was a revelation to you?”
“I once thought my obligation to both Princess Teiko and her son would end when he ascended the throne,” I said. “Clearly not.”
“Did you really?” Kenji asked. “Knowing the Fujiwara’s only real loyalty is to themselves? Was that what you believed, even before Princess Teiko’s manifestation at the bridge? Honestly?” I think my face reddened then, because Kenji didn’t wait for an answer. “That’s what I thought,” he said.
“She said she might be trapped on this earth forever, if I don’t help her.”
“And did you not already believe as much yourself? Honestly, Lord Yamada. As a priest, I know dreams are sometimes prophetic, and sometimes dreams are a portal to allow the visitation of spirits. But sometimes, dreams are no more than a way of talking to ourselves in a manner where we will finally listen. I do not pretend to know which is the case here, and neither should you.”
“I believe Teiko appeared to me,” I said because it was the truth. Or perhaps my truth.
Kenji grunted. “Then I will say no more on the subject. Whether she did or not, the situation we are in has not changed.”
I had no argument. “How far is this kofun?” I asked, changing the subject.
“If I remember right, we are nearly there.”
Kenji had hardly finished speaking when the tumulus came into view. It sat on a broad flat hillock, a smaller mound on a greater one. The earth around the stones had eroded so some of them were visible; the ones in sight were gigantic. Three grown men with arms outstretched wouldn’t have been able to measure the least of them.
“The Ishibutai Kofun,” Kenji said.
There was an approach of flat stones leading toward an entrance that appeared like a gaping maw in the earth. Princess Tagako’s carriage was arranged so she had a good view of it, though of course we came no closer to avoid the risk of ritual impurity, which was something Princess Tagako especially could not afford. A tomb of ancient distinction was still a tomb, and not a place for the living. While we waited, a servant brought word that Princess Tagako wished to speak to me. I dismounted and approached her carriage. Through the shutter I could see a few flashes of color but not her face.
“What do you think of it? The kofun, I mean.”
“It is . . . impressive.”
“It is also a reminder, is it not?”
“Life is fleeting.”
She laughed and after a few moments she spoke again. “Yes, that. But there’s more. Do you not know the history of this place?” I admitted my lack of knowledge, and she continued, “Where we are now, in this flat area before the kofun, is rumored to have once been the mansion of a very powerful man named Soga no Umako, back when Asuka was the home to the emperors. Have you heard the name?”
I frowned. “Once again, I must confess that I have not.”
“I am not surprised. It was a long time ago, but those of the royal line, even as distantly as myself, know the story. Hundreds of years ago, the Soga were to the emperors what the Fujiwara are now. What remains of them today, save for this big pile of stones? Nothing, Lord Yamada. Nothing at all.”
“That is the real reason you wanted to come here,” I said.
“I have heard of this place since I was a child, and it is the reminder I spoke of: What seems impossible to overcome will be overcome. What seems unchangeable, will change. That is the nature of all things. One day the Fujiwara will follow the path of the Soga clan, and their sum and total will be the stones of a forgotten tomb. Still, I am of Fujiwara blood—if distantly—as are most of the royal line. Even Princess Teiko had a Fujiwara mother. Yet the Fujiwara only care about empresses in the paternal line. They make us all family and then forget we are so. In time, I believe this will be their downfall.”
I smiled. “Have you seen what you came to see?”
“I have, and I know that time is short. I am ready to depart.”
We left Soga no Umako’s tomb and met with the rest of our procession at the appointed place. When we crossed the barrier into Kawachi province, we were met with an additional escort of thirty mounted archers sent by the provincial governor. Morofusa and Akimasa met with the Kawachi bushi’s shōshō and then reported to me.
“Their orders are to accompany us to Heijo-kyo. Since this is their territory, I propose we put them in the vanguard, well ahead of us. We will cover the center, flanks and rear, if that meets your approval?”
This was Morofusa’s domain, not mine, so naturally I agreed, but before he left, I took him aside. “Is there something else?”
“Only that their commander strikes me as somewhat nervous, and it worries me. Perhaps they expect trouble, but these are Montoku Genji bushi and well respected. I would see for myself how well they deal with trouble.”
I wasn’t entirely satisfied with Morofusa’s explanation, as I had the feeling there was something he wasn’t telling me, but I had no reason to object. Fortunately, there was no trouble. The Montoku Genji accompanied us on to our first overnight stop in Kawachi and then on to what had been Heijo-kyo, the old capital at Nara. There they departed to secure the area of the temple where we would be quartered that evening. I wasn’t sorry to see them go. By my standards, our numbers were bloated enough, and I was afraid they might slow us down. The closest we would come to Kyoto on this leg of the journey was Uji, north of Nara, before we turned southeast to Osaka Bay for Princess Tagako’s final ceremony as high priestess. Only then would we be able to return to the Capital.
We were shown the site of the old palace upon our arrival at Heijo-kyo. There was nothing left of its vermillion pillars and green tiled roofs, as the old accounts described it. The grounds where once emperors had made decrees and the court carried out its intrigues had found far more practical use as farmland, for what is a palace without an emperor? What hadn’t been moved for the creation of Heian-kyo was long since scavenged, rotted and fallen away, or burned down.
What remained of Nara’s time as capital city were nine great temples, still in use, but all had seen better days. Our quarters were, in my estimation, located in the worst of them. The lodgings had been cleaned and prepared as well as possible for our arrival, but were clearly on their way to following the example of the ancient palace. Still, it was large enough to house all of us, since even the remaining priests had homes in the town rather than living within their own walls. Morofusa and Akimasa arranged their men around the walls, adding more guards to those areas where time and neglect had breached them. Even with the addition of the governor’s men, they were stretched thin to cover everything.
While Princess Tagako received official visitors in the temple’s lecture hall, Kenji began his own patrol, and I went with him.
“I’m grateful for the company,” Kenji said. “This place has me concerned.”
I shared Kenji’s worry. In most cases his inspections were simply out of habit and prudent precaution, but this place was different. The temple had been all but abandoned; spirits and monsters and creatures of all sorts were drawn to such places.
“Have you sensed anything yet?”
“Nothing definite, but the feeling in this direction makes me uneasy.”
We were traveling along the west wing of the temple. On the outside were several moldering outbuildings, but Kenji felt drawn along one corridor. Daylight was failing, and Kenji lit his lantern. I had my tachi with me; indeed, I had seldom been without it since our journey began. Yet here in the temple it was close quarters, and the length of the blade made its use impractical. I also carried a kodachi in my sash, but I didn’t believe the shorter blade could be as effective if we really ran into trouble, and I said as much to Kenji.
“Let me see your dagger,” he said.
Calling a kodachi a dagger was rather like calling a spear a splinter, but I held it out to him hilt first. He put his lantern down and drew a slip of paper from within his robe. He closed his eyes and muttered a few words I didn’t understand, then touched the paper to my blade. The paper disappeared in a wisp of smoke, and for a moment, the blade of my kodachi glowed red.
“Here,” Kenji said as he handed the weapon back to me and recovered his lantern. “Anything more solid than an actual ghost, that blade will cut, and I’ll wager even a ghost wouldn’t enjoy it.”
“I’ve never seen you use that technique before,” I said. “There were times when we could have used it.”
“I only discovered it in an idle moment after I moved into my temple at Kamakura. I believe it will work, but it is untried, for the obvious reason that I’ve had no chance to test it these last three years. Indeed, I didn’t think I’d ever need to try it at all. I’m sorry to say I might be wrong. Listen!”
I did. There was a very faint and intermittent sound coming from further down the corridor. “It sounds like an animal whine.”
“I hope it is indeed an animal,” Kenji said. “Let’s go.”
We had only taken a few steps when Kenji stopped again. “Do you feel that?”
I did. The atmosphere in the corridor suddenly seemed thick and the light dimmer, even though I knew the sun was still above the horizon. “There’s something ahead. Something powerful.”
“I think you should draw your dagger,” he said. “I’m counting on you to use it if need be.”
“Fine, but don’t tell Morofusa.”
“No need.”
I almost jumped out of my sandals. Morofusa stood behind us looking grim, and I swear I had heard nothing.
“By all the gods, Morofusa—I’ve known ghosts that didn’t move as quietly as you.”
He sighed. “You promised, Lord Yamada.”
“I did. To not wander off, and I have not done so—we are still within the scope of your guards. To not risk myself unnecessarily, but I believe, for the safety of Princess Tagako and all of us, this is necessary.”
“A distinction possibly without a difference,” he said. “What are we hunting?”
“As of yet we don’t know. Possibly nothing, but I would not depend on that. Let us go on,” Kenji said.
Morofusa followed us, and I had to admit that, once I had gotten over my initial shock, I was glad he had found me. Two blades would definitely be better than one, if something as dangerous as I feared really was waiting for us.
“Speaking of hunting, Morofusa-san, may I see your dagger?” Kenji asked.
After a brief hesitation, Morofusa turned his own kodachi over to Kenji, who gave it the same blessing he had given mine. “Just in case,” he said, returning the blade. Morofusa handled it as if he were afraid it would burst into flame at any moment. I barely hid a smile, but only just. We resumed our progress down the corridor. Ahead we saw a patch of light, and then immediately heard a low growl.
“That sounded a bit like a dog,” Kenji said. “Wouldn’t you agree, Lord Yamada?”
I sighed. “Exactly like a dog. So far, fortune has not smiled upon us. Morofusa-san, please draw your kodachi . . . and don’t worry. It won’t bite you. I can’t say the same for what lies ahead.”
“Gentlemen, I personally checked the outside of this walkway not very long ago. This opens into a small pavilion, and there was nothing there.”
“There is now,” Kenji said. “I hope I’m wrong about what it is.”
“I don’t think you are,” I said. “Pity.”
Morofusa stopped us. “As I said, that is an open pavilion ahead. If a creature of malice is there now, we won’t be able to cover its retreat, confined here as we are. It could easily elude us.”
“What do you suggest?” I asked.
“Yoshitsune and Hideki are posted to a gate near here. Let me fetch them to block the creature’s path to the hall before we try to confront it.”
Morofusa’s plan showed good sense. “Do so, but hurry, else it will be on the move without waiting for us.”
Instead of running back to the chamber where the corridor began, he simply found a sprung piece of framing on the wall itself and pushed his way through. In a very short time he had returned, hardly winded.
“They will be ready,” he said. “And you are correct—I saw a shadow seated in the pavilion. I couldn’t tell what it was.”
“Then let us hope I’ve selected the correct ward. Be on guard, both of you,” Kenji said, and we pushed forward into the pavilion.
The creature sat there like a courtier taking in a breeze. It was wearing full court dress, including a very stylish boushi. The only thing out of place was that it had the head of a very large dog. Kenji held his staff in front of himself like a shield.
“Inugami!”
I had hoped we were wrong, but that was a foolish hope. In an instant the creature abandoned all pretense of humanity. It lifted its muzzle skyward and howled. Its clothing fell away as if it had been shredded, leaving only a pile of torn cloth. Now it stood on four thickly muscled legs, its eyes glowing like coals, and the rumble of its growl made my knees shake.
Two more men won’t be enough—
The creature bolted toward the courtyard. Yoshitsune was there and swung a hard blow at the creature’s head, but the blade didn’t bite, and in an instant the beast was on top of him, slavering for his throat. Morofusa and I had both gone after the creature, but we were too slow. The only thing that saved the man from having his throat torn out was Hideki, who struck the creature in the side with his spear. Again the weapon did not cut, but the blow did throw the inugami off balance for a second, and Morofusa, who was a shade faster than I was, leaped on its back and drove his kodachi into the beast’s throat. For a moment I thought his blade had done its work, but then the creature shook itself like a dog shedding water, and Morofusa went flying off to land heavily several feet away.
“Lord Yamada! Hurry!” Kenji shouted. I managed to reach the creature, and drove my blessed kodachi deep into its side near the shoulder. Howling in pain, the inugami turned its attention to me, knocking me down like a cloth doll and lunging for my throat. I reached out blindly and my left hand closed on the hilt of Morofusa’s blade. I heard Hideki’s spear twice strike the creature without any effect. Holding onto Morofusa’s kodachi with all my strength was the only thing keeping me alive—for the moment.
“I can’t hold it for long!”
Fortunately, I did not have to do so. Kenji reached us, and as the creature strained toward my throat, Kenji slapped a ward on the top of its head. The paper clung there as if nailed, and I felt the monster weaken. I took the hilt of Morofusa’s kodachi in both hands and twisted it hard. I was relieved to see the light slowly fade from the creature’s eyes; the battle was over. The inugami’s body turned into mist and drifted away into the night.
Yoshitsune helped Morofusa back to his feet, but had to hold him there as Morofusa’s breaths were coming in great gasps, and I realized he’d had the wind knocked out of him. I had a scratch or two and that appeared to be the extent of our injuries.
We were very lucky.
“What . . . what was that thing? Did it get away?” Morofusa asked when he could talk again.
“An inugami,” Kenji said. “Similar to a shikigami, but much more dangerous . . . to all concerned. It didn’t get away. It was essentially a spirit, not a living creature, and when we destroyed it, there was nothing left.”
“What do you mean, ‘dangerous to all concerned’? I think those of us here in the temple were the only ones in danger.”
“The ritual that creates a inugami is a simple one,” I said, “but also vile and despicable. The very nature of that ritual often means the inugami would turn on its creator at the first opportunity. The only exceptions I know are some criminal clans that are known for their expertise in making and using them. Anyone else would have to be either very desperate or very foolish to even consider it.”
Some people had left the main hall to gather on the south veranda, staring our direction. I heard the murmur of voices. “We’re attracting too much attention. Gentlemen, thank you, but please return to your stations. We’ll see to Morofusa-shōshō.”
“Yes, Lord Yamada,” they said in unison and left.
Kenji and I leant our support to Morofusa as we went back through the pavilion. We found him a seat while we examined the clothing the inugami had left behind, but it contained nothing of any interest.
“From what you’ve told me,” Morofusa said, “it seems likely that the inugami was the tool of an assassin.”
I grunted. “The thought did occur to me, but who was it after?”
Kenji looked at me. “We know it wasn’t after either of us, or it would have attacked us in this pavilion. Instead it tried to get away.”
“Through the courtyard,” Morofusa said. “In the general direction of the audience hall. I’ll wager the intended victim was Princess Tagako. We interrupted it before its chosen moment.”
“Also likely, as she is of the royal family and thus certainly the most important person in our company. Yet that alone is not a reason for such an extraordinary step,” I said.
Morofusa looked thoughtful. “Banditry I understand, but this would be simple murder. Why would anyone wish to harm the princess?”
Morofusa had just cut to the heart of the matter. “Indeed, that is almost certainly the key question. Assuming she was the target, why? What possible reason could anyone have?”
None of us had an answer to that. Me, least of all.
“Lord Yamada, do you take me for an idiot?”
I had been wondering how to broach the subject of the assassination attempt, but apparently I was taking too long on it, because Princess Tagako ended my hesitation by summoning me to a private audience. We were never really alone, of course, but her attendants again kept just out of earshot, and Tagako spoke from behind a kicho so that I only saw her in silhouette.
“I gather you heard the . . . disturbance?”
“Everyone heard it. Especially that howling, which clearly wasn’t human, so please don’t insult me by pretending nothing happened. If there’s a danger to those around me, I need to know of it.”
“Master Kenji, Morofusa-san, and I discovered an inugami lurking in the pavilion.”
Princess Tagako didn’t speak for several long moments. “An inugami? Are you certain?”
“There’s no question of it. If you understand what an inugami is, then you must realize they are often created as instruments of revenge, or assassination.”
“Of course, but Lord Yamada, look around you. This is an old temple, decrepit and barely used. Did it not occur to you that what you found was simply some leftover product of some ancient dark summoning, remaining here long after the one who called it perished?”
I bowed. “I admit the possibility. However, I do not believe this to be the case. An abandoned inugami would not have lived in peaceful contemplation in its old haunts for any length of time. They are vicious creatures by design, and someone would have died long before now. Probably several someones. I think it more likely the creature hadn’t been here any longer than we have.”
“I am very grateful to all of you for dealing with the creature,” she said. “Nor do I mean to sound harsh, but if what you say is correct, we need to know why the thing was here in the first place.”
Princess Tagako’s grasp of the situation, as I expected, was excellent.
“Your Highness, I am in agreement—we need to know who the intended target was. We might presume it would be you.”
“Me?” I didn’t need to see her face to register her surprise. It was clear in her voice. “Who would wish to harm me? I am nothing.”
“You are far from nothing, Highness,” I said softly.
I heard her sigh. “That is kind of you, Lord Yamada, but in an important respect I am worse than nothing—an excess princess. I am not needed for any important dynastic marriages or key alliances. Why else would I have spent eighteen years in Saiku? I have harmed no one I am aware of, save some at court who seemed to believe my very existence was a personal annoyance, but even that was a long time ago.”
“Perhaps there was an indirect target. For example, if someone wished to embarrass the governor of this province,” I said, though I didn’t sound or feel very convincing. “The loss of an imperial princess who was technically under his protection would be very serious.”
“True enough,” she said but then immediately countered. “But not necessarily fatal to his career, as there are few in the Capital who would notice my absence, and the imperial household would have one less expense. Besides, not only do I know what an inugami is, I know what is required to create one, Lord Yamada. The result achieved simply would not justify the effort, never mind the damage to one’s soul.”
I had no heart to argue, since I had already come to the same opinion. I could not see why anyone would want Tagako killed, either for political or personal reasons. By everything I knew and understood, the inugami should not have been there. Yet the inugami was there, and by its very nature was there for a purpose. The obvious conclusion was that there was something I didn’t know, something I definitely needed to know, if there was any chance of preventing bloodshed.
I regretfully took my leave of the princess and sought out Kenji and Morofusa in the hope that they had fared better than I had.
“You were right, Lord Yamada,” was the first thing Kenji said to me.
“You found it?”
Morofusa nodded. “We did, and not very far from here.”
“I want to see it.”
“I do not,” Kenji said. “I did not want to see it the first time. It turned my stomach, but we needed to know. Morofusa, will you show him?”
“Certainly.”
Morofusa led me from the temple to the northeast corner of the compound where one of the moldering outbuildings remained. The door was barely on its hinges, and it took a little effort for Morofusa to open it. There was enough light from the doorway and the holes in the ceiling to tell that it was empty, save for a small upright box to which two pieces of wood had been attached to make a crossed peak.
“An improvised shrine,” I said.
“So we assumed,” Morofusa confirmed. “I had the privilege of opening it the first time.”
I smiled. “Only because Master Kenji knew what was likely to be inside.”
I went into the darkness and opened the door. Inside sat the severed head of a large dog.
The process of making an inugami has two variations. In the first, the dog would be buried in the dirt with only its head uncovered, while bowls of food and water were left just out of reach. When the poor creature was close to dying of thirst and starvation, the creator would offer prayers to the dog’s spirit and then saw its head off. In the second method, rather than being mostly buried, the dog would be tied, again with food and water placed just out of reach. When the animal was completely focused on trying to reach its sustenance, its head would be struck off, thus putting the animal’s predatory focus at the service of the conjurer if the ritual was conducted correctly. The latter method was quicker, so in that respect one might be tempted to call it the kinder of two horrible methods. I was not so tempted. In either case the dog would be dead and its spirit bound, though sooner or later the inugami could be expected to turn on its master. Those assassins who were experienced in the creation and use of the creatures would be prepared for that eventuality. Those who simply sought revenge without considering the consequences—or those who became careless—would die in the jaws of their own creation.
What I did next rendered me ritually impure for the next month, but that was of no concern to me. I reached out and pulled the head over so I could examine its cut. It only took a moment to find what I was looking for.
“A very clean cut. Whoever created this monster was an expert swordsman.”
Now I knew what method had been used. This was no slow, agonizing death, but a very quick one. Since the head was located nearby this also told me something I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. “This wasn’t the work of a criminal clan hired for assassination. This creature was created by someone close by for the sole purpose of killing one of us.”
“I hate to say this, but what about Princess Tagako?” Morofusa asked.
“It’s true Princess Tagako knows the technique,” I said. “But she hasn’t a moment to herself and I’m fairly certain she has neither the strength nor skill with a sword that this would require.”
Morofusa simply grinned. “I meant as the intended victim.”
“One would think so, and yet I know of no reason for it— Wait. Who else was present when Tagako-hime held her audience in the great hall? Did you see?”
“I was at the gate when most of them arrived,” he said. “Let me think . . . there was a delegation from all the temples in Nara, of course, the headmen of several villages, Governor Yorinobu—”
I interrupted. “Fujiwara no Yorinobu?”
“No, my lord. Minamoto no Yorinobu. He’s a member of the Montoku Genji and thus has ties of loyalty to the Fujiwara, but he is not one of them. My understanding is that he was a friend and confident of the former Fujiwara chancellor, Lord Michinaga. It was how he got this appointment.”
I knew the name, of course. Lord Michinaga had been chancellor for so long and governed with such authority that many people saw little difference between him and whatever emperor happened to be on the throne at the time. Even now, years after his death, his shadow loomed large. Lord Fujiwara no Yorinobu and his two half-brothers were all sons of Michinaga. Now I understood why Morofusa had placed the governor’s escort in the vanguard.
“Montoku Genji. So that is why you put them in the front, to keep an eye on them. You don’t trust them, do you?”
Morofusa demurred. “Say rather that I am wary of them, as their loyalties are not my own,” he said. “I thought the vanguard most appropriate.”
“That aside, I know they have more than a few enemies. What if someone desired this governor’s death?”
Morofusa shook his head. “Then they missed their opportunity. He had departed before the inugami was even discovered. He took the rest of our honor guard escort with him, as was previously arranged.”
That was an interesting coincidence, but I understood, so far as I knew, it really was just that. Even if I assumed that the Montoku Genji were somehow involved as agents of the Fujiwara, I still wouldn’t know why or who the true target was.
“Was there anyone else besides the governor?”
Morofusa frowned. “Representatives of some of the more prominent local families, but none, to my knowledge, have dealings with court politics other than the usual currying of favor. If that were cause for assassination, there would hardly be anyone left.”
“In essence, we are fighting blind,” I said.
“Deaf as well, I think,” Morofusa said cheerfully. “Yet we will do the best we can.”