The Mammoth Book of Angels & Demons (33 page)

Master Daiki’s smile was all teeth. “Indeed?”

I thought it prudent to interrupt. “Sir, before Lady Takara undertook her pilgrimage, she was reported to have received a visitor from your temple. With your permission, we would like to speak to this person.”

“I am afraid that is not possible,” he said.

Daiki would not keep silent. “Abbot Hideo, I
will
discover the people who attacked my lady and killed several treasured members of our household. I will do it with or without your cooperation.”

The old man looked grim. “I have no intention of interfering. I, too, would like this matter resolved. Members of my temple travel the Hokuriku Road often, as well as pilgrims to and from here. It is in both our interests to ensure their safety.”

“Then why may we not speak to your priest?” I asked.

“You misunderstand me,” the abbot said. “I didn’t mean that I wouldn’t allow it. I meant that it was impossible that Lady Takara received a visitor from this temple. Hino-ji was in a period of ritual seclusion that only ended yesterday. No one has been allowed to enter or leave this temple for the past two weeks.”

Daiki was obviously skeptical, so the abbot grudgingly allowed us to fully search the temple and grounds. There were many offerings in their storehouse, as one would expect, but no sign of the cloth that Lady Takara had taken from the Sago Clan storeroom nor, of course, Sanji’s demon. Daiki equally as grudgingly admitted that he didn’t have enough proof to raze the temple. I wouldn’t have called it a reconciliation, but at least matters between the Sago Clan and Hino Temple were no worse than they had been.

Master Daiki scowled. “I was so certain we’d find proof of Hino Temple’s guilt in this. Yet I still find it hard to believe that the bandits acted alone. Why court their own destruction?”

“Court? Ask rather why they guaranteed their destruction by leaving a witness. I am pleased beyond measure that Lady Takara lived, yet also puzzled.”

Master Daiki scowled. “Lord Yamada, surely you’re not suggesting that Lady Takara is complicit in this? Other than removing the trophy from our shrine, I mean.”

“Hardly. But as I said, I am puzzled.”

Just then a young man arrived, a mounted messenger bearing the
mon
of the provincial governor. The messenger presented Master Daiki with a letter and then rode with us to await any reply.

“Ah! A detachment of
bushi
from the governor’s own forces will join us tomorrow. Fifty in number, and that’s more than enough. Perhaps tomorrow all our questions will be answered.”

“Perhaps,” I said, though my thoughts were elsewhere. “Supposedly the person, whoever it was who spoke to Lady Takara, came by in the afternoon? Who would have been on guard then?”

He frowned. “That would have been . . . Tarou and Ichigo.”

“The same Tarou riding with us now?”

“Yes. Why?”

“Probably nothing. But there is some small matter he might be able to assist me with. Excuse me.”

I dropped back until I was riding beside Tarou. He was perhaps thirty years old and of a blunt but cheerful disposition. “My lord?”

“You and Ichigo were on duty the afternoon that Lady Takara received her visitor, yes?”

“So I am told,” he said.

I frowned. “So you were told? Can you explain that, please? Any visitors would have to pass by the gate, yes? One of you would have seen him.”

Tarou looked extremely uncomfortable. “If Lady Takara said she had a visitor, then of course she did.”

I smiled a grim smile. “You’re avoiding the question, Tarousan, and I have to say you’re not very good at that. No one is blaming you for what happened, but I do need to know about that visitor.”

Tarou admitted defeat. “I am at a loss, Lord Yamada. I spoke to Aniko that very evening, and she told me that Lady Takara received a visitor, a young monk. I don’t understand how that can be. No one came to the compound that day. I remember clearly – the gate was never opened.”

“You’re certain?”

He looked miserable. “I am. Which means that someone must have slipped over the wall unseen. We failed our duties and placed Lady Takara in danger. This is our fault.”

“That may or may not be the case, but I would not repeat that story to anyone else. Let it be our secret for now.’

I rode back to the front of the column. “Master Daiki, will you have need of this messenger today?”

“Today? No. I won’t report to His Excellency until after we’ve cleaned out that bandit viper’s nest.”

“Then, with your indulgence, I will borrow him.”

I was doubtful that Daiki would be able to find the bandit’s hideout in any reasonable time, but I had underestimated the esteem in which the Sago Clan was held. He merely had to let it be known that Yamaguchi no Mikio’s bandits were the ones who attacked Lady Takara, and information from the countryside suddenly became available in abundance. There were a few false leads, as one would expect, but the others all pointed to an isolated farming compound west of Takefu. Now Kenji and I watched with Daiki opposite the dilapidated south gate as his men took up positions around that compound. Once they were in place, Daiki would give the word to attack.

He never got the chance.

Almost immediately there were shouts and the sound of steel meeting steel from the hillside on the north side of the compound. Daiki swore and picked up his club.

“They’ve been warned!”

He set out across the meadow in a dead run with Kenji, myself, and five or six of the governor’s
bushi
not far behind. He barely hesitated at the gate, taking his massive demon-queller’s club in both hands and smashing it into the gate as soon as he reached it. Whatever strength the timbers had once contained had clearly fled years ago. The gate shattered into splinters hardly big enough for kindling, and Daiki was through.

I wasn’t sure what we’d find in the compound, but the answer proved to be hardly anything at all. Two women in peasant clothes hugged each other in terror as they tried to hide behind a well, but there was no sign of anyone else.

“Take everyone alive!” Daiki shouted to the warriors behind us. “I want prisoners, not bodies!”

The only sounds of fighting were from the hillside beyond the north gate. Two
bushi
remained behind to search for anyone else hiding and to guard the women, but the rest of us sped out the north gate. By the time we reached the fighting, it was over.

The captain of the hillside detachment bowed to Daiki. “I’m sorry, my lord, but they didn’t give us much choice. They were determined to escape.”

Daiki ignored that. “Where is he?”

I didn’t have to ask whom he meant, but it seemed that Daiki, in this one regard, was not going to get his wish. The
bushi
produced two flea-bitten, scruffy men. Both were bruised and bloody but alive. Two more were not. One of them was Yamaguchi no Mikio. Daiki kicked the body so that it rolled face up and studied the dead man’s features.

“
Che
. . . It would seem the bandit has escaped me after all.”

Whatever Daiki had thought to do with Mikio, killing him would perhaps have been the least of it. But that was a moot point now. By the time the prisoners were bound and the rest of the soldiers recalled, the
bushi
left behind had completed their search of the compound.

“We found this in the storeroom and more besides,” the man said, showing us several bolts of cloth. “Do you recognize any of them?”

Daiki barely glanced at them. “Lady Takara wove that cloth herself. I’d know it anywhere. What about Sanji’s demon?”

The
bushi
was a hard-bitten man who looked as if he also had faced down a demon or two in his time, but he was almost pale now. “My lord, it’s not here.”

“It has to be here! I’ll find it if we have to take every building apart plank by plank!”

In the end, that was exactly what Daiki and his men did. But when the dilapidated compound was reduced to piles of rotting wood, Sanji’s demon was still nowhere to be found.

*   *   *

We didn’t get much from the prisoners. Yes, they were thieves. No, they had not attacked Lady Takara. Yes, there were the spoils of thievery in their storeroom; no sense denying the obvious. No, they had no idea how the cloth from Lady Takara’s temple offering had come into their hands. Daiki finally grew frustrated and ordered them all bound on a line. As we rode back to the Sago compound with the prisoners led on a rope and surrounded by guards, I pondered what little we had learned. It seemed to me that it might be far more than a first glance might reveal.

“Why lie about the temple offering and the demon and then tell the truth about all else?” I mused. “The penalty for banditry is death, as is the penalty for murder. They can’t be beheaded twice.”

“Because they knew that I would not be so merciful as the governor,” Daiki growled. “I know they’ve hidden Sanji’s trophy somewhere, and they will tell me where. I will find the truth.”

“That is my intention as well. I just do not believe that the truth you’re looking for is to be had from these wretches.”

“Why not?” Daiki asked.

“Because, my lord, I think they’ve already told us the truth.”

Now even Kenji was staring at me. “Yamada-san, what do you mean?”

“Simple: Yamaguchi no Mikio and his followers did not attack Lady Takara. They couldn’t have.”

“Lord Yamada, are you saying the Lady Takara, my wife, lied to me?”

Now Daiki was glaring, and I knew his anger was more than ready to erupt in any direction, including my own. I proceeded carefully.

“On the contrary – it is the truth of her words that speaks on behalf of Yamaguchi and his followers. She stated that Mikio himself prevented his man from killing her during the raid. Why would he do that? What bandit is foolish enough to slaughter so many and let a witness to that slaughter live? More, make a
special effort
to let that witness live? Does that make any sense to you?”

“No,” he said reluctantly. “It does not. Unless . . .”

I finished. “Unless the entire point was to leave a witness. Whoever attacked your wife wanted it known that Yamaguchi no Mikio was to blame.”

“Whoever?” Kenji asked.

“Which brings me back to my first point,” I said. “You saw that ‘bandit stronghold’, Master Daiki, just as I did. Yamaguchi had four men, at most, and they were a sorry lot. Nor was there bedding or supplies at the compound to indicate any more. Lady Takara’s party was attacked by at least a dozen, probably more. I saw the results of their work and would swear to that on my life. It is simply impossible that Yamaguchi is the culprit.”

I could see the doubt creeping into Daiki’s face, but he shook it away. “Nonsense! How else could they have obtained that cloth?”

“That question is more than fair, and at the moment I cannot answer it. But, with your indulgence, I may yet do so.”

“Very well,” Daiki said, “but I will warn you ahead of time that I am short on temper at the moment and not terribly fond of riddles in the best circumstances.”

Kenji leaned over. “I think Master Daiki is just about ready to turn his club on you. I hope you know what you’re doing.”

I smiled. “So do I. But I will need your help as well. I require a talisman of truth. Surely there is something of the sort in that bag of yours.”

Kenji frowned. “As in to compel the truth? I have something that will serve the purpose.”

“Later. Before the truth can be compelled, first it must be revealed.”

As I hoped, the governor’s messenger was waiting for me when we reached the Sago Clan compound, and I took him aside to hear his report. Afterwards I nodded and turned to Daiki. “I need to speak to Yuichi again. Will you and Kenji accompany me?”

He frowned. “If you wish.”

I turned to the messenger. “Your name?”

“Nobu, my lord.”

“Nobu-san, follow us, please.”

I had two weapons, a sword and a short dagger. I chose the dagger and kept its hilt close to hand. We went behind the compound and approached the Sago family shrine. “Yuichisan? I need a word with you.”

The old man poked his head around the door to shrine. “Ah! Master Daiki. I am so pleased to see you returned safely. What news?”

“The bandits have been caught, though their leader was slain. I’m afraid we did not recover our heirloom.”

“A pity,” he said as he emerged from the shrine, wiping the dust from his hands with a small cloth and awaiting our approach. “No doubt you will find it yet.”

“No doubt,” I said. I took one long step and trapped the old man’s arms with my left arm while I pressed the dagger blade against his throat. His body was as taut as a bowstring in my grip.

Daiki raised his club. “Lord Yamada, what is the meaning of this outrage?”

“If I am wrong,” I said through clenched teeth. “I will apologize with all sincerity. Nobu-san, will you tell Master Daiki what you just told me?”

Daiki scowled at the man. “Well?”

“L-Lord Yamada charged me to enquire of Ishiyama no Yuichi’s family when they had last seen him.”

“And their answer?”

“He has not returned home in over a month, my lord. They are becoming concerned.”

Daiki’s gaze narrowed. “Yuichi, what does this mean?”

The old man just glared, and continued to struggle. I nodded at the priest. “Now, Kenji-san.”

Kenji produced a slip of mulberry paper with exquisite calligraphy flowing down its length. He raised a single hand in a blessing gesture and slapped the paper onto Yuichi’s forehead. “Diamond Sutra. Let illusion be dispelled.”

The old man’s form
shimmered
in my grasp, like a mountain peak glimpsed through summer haze. Another instant and I did not hold an old man at all, but rather an
oni.
He was perhaps a head taller than myself, with red skin, gleaming tusks and horns, and black hair as coarse and thick as a horse’s mane. He continued to struggle, and it was all I could do to hold him.

“When we think of shape-shifters, we think of foxes and
tanuki
, but demons have the knack as well, when they care to use it,” I said.