“I suppose there are always at once greater and fewer numbers of secrets than one presumes,” Kenji said.
“Gossip at court is better than gold, to the right people. To the wrong ones, it is worse than poison. Princess Teiko knew how to use it to her advantage. Regardless, it was long ago. History.”
“The presence of Teiko’s ghost would appear to argue otherwise,” Kenji said dryly.
“Perhaps, but once Teiko’s ambitions for her son are fulfilled, that will be the end of it.”
Kenji formed his right hand into the funnu-in gesture, meant to expel demons and negative thought. “I sincerely hope you are right. Her continued presence in this plane is not good. For either of you.”
We had ridden a little ways to the right flank of the procession, far enough to speak privately but not so far as to encounter the outlying scouts. The southwestern road was open enough that there were few places for ambush, and Akimasa and his detachment had ridden ahead and thoroughly scoured those already. The patrols had turned up a few ragged bandits but no organized forces of any size, but oddly enough I was not reassured.
“Now that a magical attack has failed,” I said, “I would expect a more direct approach.”
“In the right place and time, an army is not as valuable as one well-placed archer, and this is neither the right place nor time.”
Kenji had a point. Traveling in her shuttered carriage, Princess Tagako made an extremely difficult target, even for a master archer. Yet her final ceremony would be conducted by the water of Osaka Bay, likely with clear lines of sight in most directions. There were ways to mitigate this, of course, and I would see that Morofusa and Akimasa carried them out, if indeed they had not already planned as much. There were only a few clear opportunities remaining to any potential assassin, and it was my firm intention that those particular doors be spiked shut.
“We also shouldn’t discount the potential of another magical attack,” I said.
“Not another inugami, I hope,” Kenji muttered. “We barely survived the first one.”
“Very possible. It’s not that a great deal of magical skill is required, only that one have no conscience whatsoever and no regard for the potential consequences.”
“Such people are never in short supply,” Kenji said. “More is the pity.”
We reached the village in sight of Osaka Bay by mid-afternoon. Princess Tagako was keen to finish her ceremony that day, but Morofusa and I examined the site and persuaded her to wait until the following morning, to allow us to make all reasonable preparation. We would still have time to return to Prince Kanemore’s estate in Uji before nightfall the next day, so Tagako agreed.
Morofusa and I stood on the stretch of beach where the ceremony was to be performed.
“It is as I feared, Lord Yamada. While fortunately all the houses of the village proper are out of bowshot, there are some storage buildings and covered docks that must be secured. Yet even that doesn’t concern me as much as the harbor itself.”
I frowned. “Why? No one could reach her from that direction without giving us ample warning,” I said, but Morofusa shook his head.
“You don’t understand. It is customary for the villagers to attend, to share in the high priestess’s blessing. It is also customary for the fishing boats to gather just offshore here for the same reason. They could easily conceal archers, or worse.”
“Then we must make certain this does not happen. Speak to the headman of the village. If it cannot be prevented—as I suspect will be the case—we will need to interpose a perimeter of boats with our own bushi aboard. Those remaining on shore will need to stay close, for obvious reasons.”
“I am in agreement. I will see to it,” Morofusa said.
When he was gone, I went with Kenji on a walk around the village. The mood of the villagers was festive. Of course word had long since reached them of the former emperor’s passing and thus the saiō’s imminent arrival. “If one were planning anything,” Kenji said, “they would have had ample time to prepare.”
“The thought did occur to me. If you can think of anything else we should do, I am open to suggestions,” I said.
Kenji looked thoughtful. “I do have something in mind. A rather drastic measure that one of my calling should never even consider. Yet I understand the need to adapt to the situation.”
“What is it?”
“I would rather not say. If the need never arises, then it won’t need to be said at all. If it does . . . well, you’ll see.”
I was more than curious, but I knew better than to press him. “Fair enough.”
The next morning dawned bright and sunny, with scarcely a cloud visible other than a few dark ones far out over the bay to the west. Princess Tagako was brought to the site in a closed palanquin carried by four of Akimasa’s bushi and surrounded by her attendants, who cleared her path through the crowd of villagers and helped her emerge near the appointed spot. Kenji and I met her on the shore and bowed low.
It seemed odd to see her there without a screen between us, but the necessities of the blessing ceremony required Tagako appear in full view, with no veils to hide her face as was the normal custom for any noble lady. She wore the formal jūnihitoe court dress of twelve silk layers in alternating colors of gold and green and orange and yellow. I immediately understood why she wanted the ceremony held in early morning. The last few days had been warm for early autumn, and the afternoon heat would have been stifling. As it was, the sun was warm but Tagako showed little sign of discomfort, and I had to admire the effect. She appeared little less than magnificent, as befitting the high priestess and the emperor’s representative.
She glanced at the sky. “It seems we may expect rain,” Tagako said.
I looked in the direction she had looked, and noticed more clouds where at first there had only been a few, and they were dark as well.
“With good fortune, your duties will be completed before the rain comes,” I said.
Kenji said nothing, but he kept his eyes on the western sky. I waited until Princess Tagako glided past to take her place on a prepared dais. Only two attendants followed onto the platform. They knelt just behind her on the left and right. Akimasa’s four bushi surrounded the platform on all four sides, and the rest were distributed at the edge of the thronging villagers. Out on the bay I could see the skiffs where some of Morofusa’s bushi were keeping the fishermen’s boats at a safe distance. There had been some grumbling, but no one was attempting to move closer, for which I was grateful. Morofusa’s instructions to his bushi had been succinct: “This is a joyous event, but if anyone disobeys your orders and attempts to close in, kill them.” I fervently hoped no one would be fool enough to try, because I knew he was not joking.
“Is something bothering you?” I asked Kenji once the priestess was out of earshot.
“Those clouds. They’re moving too quickly. Something feels wrong.”
I looked again. So far as I could see, the clouds still appeared to be ordinary rain clouds but moving extremely fast.
“That is strange, I agree,” I said.
“Clouds can be portents, as can rain,” Kenji muttered. “It is their nature to be drawn to the supernatural or to events of religious significance such as this. Yet the nature of this ceremony seems to preclude what we are seeing. A blessing for the gods does not call for a storm!”
Kenji was right. It was a storm, now, with flashes of lightning and a distant rumble of thunder. One could almost taste the lightning on the air, and it was coming straight for us, but as I looked closer I thought I saw something else.
“Kenji-san, what if it isn’t the ceremony pulling the clouds in? Look!”
I pointed at the darker shadow I had spotted at the leading edge of the storm, and now I finally understood what I was seeing—it was a shadow with wings.
A daitengu?
After a moment or two I realized the shape of the creature was purely that of a bird, not a tengu. But a very large, dark bird, and it was flying straight for the shore and dais. The ceremony had already begun. I looked at the throng and knew we would have a riot on our hands if we attempted to stop it now. Nor was there time to move Tagako to a place of safety. Kenji had apparently come to the same conclusion. He moved down to the water in front of the dais, and I followed. He had his prayer beads out and his staff in his left hand as he muttered a chant under his breath. I spotted Akimasa near the edge of the throng of villagers, some of whom were now whispering and pointing at the western sky. I motioned him over.
“Do you see it?” I asked.
“Yes, my lord. I’ve sent for my best archers, but we cannot allow the crowd to come forward.”
I understood. For all we knew, what we were seeing over the water was a diversion, not the real threat, which could just as easily come from the crowd. Four archers appeared through the throng, and Akimasa led them down to the shore. I knew Morofusa had archers out on the boats, but with the movement of the sea under them, they were at a disadvantage. We tried to keep our activities quiet, but that was impossible. If Princess Tagako noticed our actions, she appeared to take no heed. The blessing ceremony proceeded as if nothing at all was out of the ordinary.
Kenji interrupted his chanting and came over to me. “Nothing is having any effect. There are only so many flying youkai, and I know them all. What I did should have slowed it. This isn’t a normal monster.”
Or, perhaps, not a monster at all.
“Shikigami,” I said.
“Che . . . I should have realized.”
Kenji reached into the pouch on his belt and produced a strip of paper. I assumed for a moment it was a ward, but I didn’t know of anything of the sort that was effective against a shikigami. In a moment I realized how wrong I was. Kenji held the paper in front of him, closed his eyes and muttered something I didn’t overhear. Then he threw the paper into the air.
“Fly!”
In that instant the paper transformed into an owl and flew out to meet the dark bird.
“Another shikigami?” I asked. “This was what you were too embarrassed to tell me?”
Kenji sighed. “A priest and abbot such as myself, practicing Chinese yin-yang magic? I am so very ashamed.”
“I’d say rather you were so very idle at Kamakura, to have even considered the attempt,” I said. “But, as with the sword blessing you did earlier, let us pray this proves useful.”
The owl met the dark bird just beyond the farthest of the fishing boats clustered around the harbor. Morofusa’s archers had already loosed a few arrows at the creature, but to no visible effect. Knowing the rough size of the owl, which had the appearance of one of the giant fishing owls found in Hokkaido, I judged the size of the dark creature flying toward us as about twice its size, larger than the largest owl or eagle I had ever seen. If we were right it was also a shikigami, then its true form was nothing more than paper, and ordinary weapons could destroy it—the difficulty being getting close enough to strike it was problematic at best.
I prayed Kenji’s shikigami would have better luck than Morofusa’s archers, but we soon had the answer. No sooner had the owl matched talons with the intruder than Kenji’s shikigami was torn to pieces. The morning sun caught little flashes of white from the tumbling pieces as they fluttered down to the water.
“That was even more embarrassing,” Kenji said, going back to his prayer beads.
In another moment the creature was past the fishing boats, past Morofusa’s archers. It dived low and headed for shore, and I immediately understood why. As the dark bird skimmed no more than a man’s height over the water, Morofusa’s men could not fire on it without risking hitting the people on shore, including Princess Tagako. The creature was headed straight for her.
Akimasa ordered his archers to loose, and I started to gainsay him before I realized how foolish that would have been. Morofusa’s men were now in the line of those arrows, but both Akimasa’s and Morofusa’s first obligation was to protect the princess. I saw two arrows strike the creature, but none apparently did enough damage. The shikigami didn’t even bother to try to dodge. Kenji and I moved in front of the dais, flanked by Akimasa’s archers, still shooting, but I knew it wouldn’t be enough unless one of them hit the right spot by chance.
“It’s a large one,” I said, “but the script may exist in a small area of the paper. It’s only luck if they hit the right place.”
All the while, Princess Tagako had continued the blessing ceremony as if nothing at all was happening, but now the timbre of her voice changed. Yet it wasn’t fear I heard there—it was anger. I felt the air around us crackle as if lightning were about to strike. There wasn’t time to ponder its meaning. I had badly misjudged the dark bird’s size. It was perhaps four times the size of Kenji’s great fishing owl, with a wingspan proportionate.
“Up close!” I said, as we were rapidly running out of options.
Kenji, myself, and three bushi mounted the dais and took positions to shield the priestess. No more than a moment later the dark bird reached the shore and immediately swooped skyward and then down, claws extended, straight for Tagako, who was still chanting. Another arrow pierced the bird straight through, to no effect. Kenji had his staff, and the rest of us had our swords out, but I knew we wouldn’t be able to swing on the creature properly without risking hitting the princess.
How do we stop it?
We didn’t. Tagako did.
When the shikigami was no more than the distance of a rooftop from the priestess’s head, there was a flash of light and the creature bounced as if it had slammed into a stone wall. It landed on the sand but in a moment was back on its taloned feet and gathering itself to take to the air again. Kenji and two of the bushi leaped forward just as I did, but I was in the better position and reached it just as it took wing. My tachi sliced through the air and struck the creature just above the left wing. For a moment my blade stuck and the force of its takeoff picked me up and threw me with as if I’d been struck by a great ocean wave. I felt myself spinning, and then I struck hard and everything went black.
When I came back to myself enough to open my eyes, the world was still spinning. I groaned and closed them again. “Guard . . . guard the princess . . . ”
“Proper, but a little late,” Kenji said. “I was beginning to wonder if you were coming back.”
It took me several more moments before I dared open my eyes again. The world was still a bit unsteady, and I didn’t recognize where I was. “Princess Tagako?”
Kenji’s hand was on my shoulder, pushing me back as I tried to rise, though Kenji himself was only a blur. “She’s safe, though it’s a small miracle no one was killed. A few of Morofusa’s men were arrow-bit, but none seriously.”
My head felt as if I’d been kicked by an entire herd of horses. “What happened?”
“You must have nicked the script that provided the enchantment,” Kenji said, “After your blow, the bird couldn’t fly. Akimasa’s bushi were able to finish it off.” He held up a tattered length of washi. “There wasn’t much left to examine, I’m afraid. They were rather thorough, once they came to grips with it. But we did learn one thing.”
I rubbed my aching head. “And what was that?”
“We now know for certain Princess Tagako is the target.”
True enough. That much had been obvious even before the bird reached shore. “That light. It wasn’t you, was it?”
Kenji looked thoughtful. “I wish I could say it was. I think it was Tagako herself, though what she did? I have no idea.”
I tried to rise again, and this time Kenji helped me sit up. I looked around. “Are we in Uji again? How long was I stunned?”
“About a day and a half. You were brought here in Takago’s palanquin, once I determined it was safe to move you.”
“Where is she?”
“In her quarters, of course. In regard to your injuries, naturally our return to the Capital will be delayed.”
I wasn’t certain how I felt about this. In some ways I considered her safer here in Kanemore’s country estate than she might have been in Kyoto. On the other hand, I needed to be back in the Capital to fulfill my obligation to Fujiwara no Yorinobu. Whatever internal family squabble was currently dividing the Fujiwara, I knew it might not last, and the sooner more ministerial positions were in the hands of imperial sympathizers, the better.
“How soon before I can travel?”
“I understand your impatience, but you’re not going anywhere for a few days. Accept your fate and heal gracefully, if you don’t want the fury of the former high priestess to fall on you.”
As Kenji had just reminded me, the blessing ceremony at Osaka Bay was her final duty as high priestess. Once she returned to Kyoto, she would simply be Princess Tagako, if one could call her “simply” anything at all.
“Once her duties are discharged, the high priestess is expected back in the Capital in less than two weeks, and it is the return itself which marks the official end of her term. Won’t this delay cause problems?”
“Princess Tagako has sent messengers to the court explaining our situation. If she is required to continue without you, we’ll soon know.”
“My presence is not the issue. Would she be safe?”
Kenji shrugged. “Is she safe here? She is well guarded, true, but she’s also a stationary target. Any potential assassin knows where to find her.”
That was nothing less than truth, but there was nothing for it but to await word. I rolled over and started to rise, but there was hardly a spot on my body which didn’t feel bruised.
Kenji was at my elbow. “I’m not sure this is a good idea,” he said. “What is it you need?”
“The privy.”
I was getting a little air on the veranda the following morning when Princess Tagako’s attendants arrived to arrange her kicho in front of a nearby doorway so she could enter it without being seen. I then heard a faint rustle, and her sleeve was visible at the bottom of the screen.
“Forgive me for neglecting you, Lord Yamada, and please accept my thanks for saving my life.”
I wondered if she was going to broach the subject, which gave me an opening for the question I wanted most to ask.
“I think you may have saved your own life, and the rest of us merely assisted with this fortunate endeavor. May I ask what you did that deflected the creature’s first attack?”
“As my last act as high priestess of the Grand Shrine of Ise, I prayed to Amaterasu-ōmikami, of course, and the goddess showed favor to her humble servant.”
The flash of light.
Now I understood. If Tagako’s interpretation was accurate, the gods had been prevailed upon to intervene, and not just any god—the titular deity of the royal family herself. Or Tagako’s belief and focus had summoned the power from within herself. There was no way for me to be as certain as Princess Tagako seemed to be about which was the case, but in all honesty this did not concern me. The outcome did.
“If you’re trying to avoid frightening me, Lord Yamada, I promise I have been frightened for some time.”
I frowned. “Highness, I’m not sure I understand you.”
While I could not see her face, I had no doubt she was annoyed. “I’m not a child, Lord Yamada. It is clear now I am the goal of this assassin, whoever he or they are. Yet there is more—while almost anyone with enough motivation to do so could create an inugami, to create a shikigami as powerful as that one would require a very skilled onmyōji. Such a one is either our enemy or in service to them, which amounts to the same thing.”
I bowed low. “I must ask your forgiveness, Highness. While the thought had occurred to me, I had not presumed to burden you with it. And yet it was your own quick thinking which saved you at Osaka Bay, not those of us tasked for your safety.”
She quickly dismissed my statement. “You crippled the shikigami, and otherwise it is equally possible—nay, likely—its second attack would have succeeded. When I said I owed you my life, I was not joking. Besides, I do not wish to rejoin the wheel of death and rebirth with a burden on my soul.”
I blinked. “What burden, Highness?”
She didn’t answer right away, and when she did her voice was so low I had to lean close to hear her.
“There have been times, and more than a few, when I thought it best I left this world, that there was nothing for me here. Yet now I know someone else feels the same way, I am . . . displeased? No. Angry. How dare they come to the same conclusion as I? Who are they to decide this, to usurp my prerogative? I could almost laugh at myself, Lord Yamada. Such pride, such arrogance . . . on my part. I would surely spend extra time in hell for it.”
There was another subject I wanted to broach. Whether hell was a part of it remained to be seen. “Highness, you once mentioned your enemies at court. Is it really possible that one such is behind this?”
“ ‘Enemy’ in this context is far too strong a word, Lord Yamada. I was a biting bug too small to swat, and a superfluous one at that. I simply cannot imagine anyone at court still caring enough about me to go to all this trouble. It’s not as if I left a trail of damaged reputations or spurned lovers behind.”
I hadn’t totally rejected the possibility, but it did seem unlikely in the extreme. While I had heard of imperial consorts as young as thirteen, Princess Tagako had been no more than eleven when her year of carefully supervised purification began, and this was before she could even take her position at Ise. Even though the saiō was required to be a virgin who remained celibate during her tenure, there had been precedent for a high priestess to take a lover. That precedent had also shown it was impossible to do without, sooner or later, being discovered. Not only would such be considered a direct affront to the emperor and the royal house, it would be a severe breach of ritual purity, I had heard nothing that even hinted at such a possibility.
I considered. “If not for personal reasons, then there must be a political reason.”
I still could not see her face, but I would have wagered a new sword she was smiling. “I daresay it is the only sort remaining,” she said. “But what could it possibly be?”
The “why” of it all was a subject I had been considering ever since the first attack, but I felt no closer now to an answer than when I had begun. However, I was beginning to have a few suspicions as to “who,” and that was a start.