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Authors: I. J. Parker

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BOOK: The Old Men of Omi
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Akitada was not reassured. “He was just here,” he said. “What if someone snatched him?”

“He would have screamed and kicked. Why don’t I stay here with the children while you take a look around?”

Sensible Yukiko!

He found Arimitsu quickly. The boy had joined a small crowd of children and adults watching the performance of a puppeteer. In his relief, Akitada gave silent thanks to the gods of the shrine, whoever they were. He was about to seize the child and lecture him about keeping promises, when the puppeteer caught his attention. He was one of those men who walk about with a large box slung around their necks. Inside the box were puppets, and the top of the box was the stage where the puppets performed. This man was good at his craft, and the story the puppets enacted was an exciting tale of betrayal and revenge. The man had reached the point where the hero confronts the villain and they battle it out with their swords.

Arimitsu was spellbound and had not noticed Akitada slipping through the crowd to stand beside him. The tale ended with the death of the villain, speared through the chest by the hero’s sword, and the puppeteer put away the dolls and instead brought out a wooden bowl he passed around for donations.

Akitada added a few coppers and said to Arimitsu, “It was a fine performance, but should you not have told us where you were going?”

The boy was startled. “Oh. I thought you knew? I thought you were looking my way when I came here. Wasn’t it grand? Wasn’t it the best thing you ever saw? And that sword fight was almost as good as watching you and Tora the other morning.”

“You were watching?” Akitada was surprised. “We didn’t see you.”

“Oh, we were peering through the fence.”

An awful thought struck Akitada. “Who is we?”

“Arihira and me.”

Akitada breathed a little easier.

“And Yukiko came and looked also.”

So much for that young woman’s manners. Akitada was embarrassed and angry. How dare she spy on him? What next? Would she pop in when he was taking his bath?

The day was spoiled for him. He returned Arimitsu to his siblings and ended the excursion in a bad mood. The children, aware of his irritation, were subdued, and Yukiko shot questioning glances his way that he ignored. When they climbed back into their carriage for the trip home, she confronted him.

“It was very good of you to come with us,” she said. “I’m sorry that Arimitsu was disobedient.”

He looked at her coldly. “It doesn’t matter. He’s only a child.”

She hesitated for a moment, then said, “Yes,” and got in the carriage.

Chapter Twelve
Enryaku-ji

The arrival of Saburo’s formidable mother had caused considerable trouble. Cook had packed her things and planned to leave the next day. She was outraged at the newcomer’s interference in the kitchen and her criticism of her meals. The maid had similar complaints concerning housekeeping chores and objected to Mrs. Kuruda’s meddling in Lady Yasuko’s attire. The children objected to being told they could not play any noisy games. This extended with special prohibitions to Yasuko, whose participation in the boys’ activities had shocked Mrs. Kuruda. Hanae and Ohiro said little, not wanting to offend Saburo, but it was clear that they tried to stay out of his mother’s way as much as possible.

The whole household had to be pacified. Tora managed to get cook to postpone her departure until after Akitada’s return. The rest of the family promised to be patient. He urged this by suggesting that Mrs.Kuruda would eventually return to her daughter’s house. Privately he had no such convictions. Saburo’s mother had declared firmly that her daughter and that good-for-nothing animal she had married no longer existed for her. She intended to devote her remaining years to her son. It was clear that she planned to assume control of the wifeless Sugawara household. She claimed her heart went out to Lord Sugawara, left without the support of a loyal spouse, and to those darling children who would need motherly supervision.

When Tora mentioned this to Saburo, he listened with horror and told Tora that he was almost afraid that his mother intended to marry his lordship herself.

This made Tora laugh heartily. But he was preoccupied with his own dilemma. On impulse, he said, “Saburo, I may need your help.”

“Of course, Tora. What can I do?”

Tora told him about the
sohei.
He described the scene at Otsu harbor. After an initial spark of interest when Tora described the warrior monks, Saburo’s face lengthened. When Tora finished with the abduction of Kinzaburo and the rape of his wife, he said nothing.

Tora was surprised by this. He asked, “Well? You’re the expert in all things involving warrior monks and monasteries. We’ve got to do something.”

With a sigh, Saburo said, “What did you have in mind?”

“I’m going to Enryaku-ji to find Kinzaburo. It would help to know something about the place.”

“You’ve never been to Enryaku-ji?”

“No.” Tora was beginning to find Saburo’s lack of enthusiastic support puzzling. “Come on! Give! I need to know how to get him out.”

“If there were a war, would you consider creeping into an enemy camp to abduct their general?”

“You think it’s impossible? Pah. I’ve done harder things.”

Saburo looked at him for a long moment. “So have I. That’s how I got this.” He gestured at his mutilated face.

Tora gaped. “Monks did that to you?”


Sohei
. It’s not quite the same thing.”

Tora did not know what to say. Suddenly his endeavor looked not only difficult but foolhardy. To rescue Kinzaburo, he would have to get into Enryaku-ji. This was simple enough as many pilgrims came and went in the temple grounds daily. The problem was that Kinzaburo most likely would be kept by the
sohei
in an area that was not accessible to ordinary worshippers. Originally he had hoped to bluff his way in somehow, verify where Kinzaburo was kept, and then free him in the dark of the night. But if those cursed monks treated a fellow monk the way they had Saburo, he doubted he would be allowed to live if they caught him. The risk was too great for a family man.

And there was another matter. He was getting too old for this business. Lately he had been plagued by headaches, and his encounter with the
sohei
seemed to have aggravated them. He felt discouraged. Putting his head into his hands, he muttered, “What can I do?”

“If it weren’t for my mother, I could come with you. I know the place better than you. We might not be successful, but it would be worth a try.”

Tora looked up. “Would you do that? After what they did to you?”

Saburo gave him his crooked smile. “I remember some faces. They come to me at night. I’ll never forget.”

“Oh. You mean you’d look for those who did this?”

“Of course. That’s what I dream about when I’m awake.”

“But why can’t you leave your mother? She’s safe here.”

Saburo shook his head. “You don’t know her. I dare not do this to my new family.”

Tora laughed. “Come on. She’s a busybody, but at heart she’s kind and she tries to be helpful. What could she possibly do?”

Saburo said darkly, “She’s the one who sent me among the
sohei,
and you ask ‘what can she do?’”

“Then send her back to your sister.”

Saburo turned away. “I can’t,” he said dully. “They won’t have her. They know her too well. Besides, she’s my responsibility. It will be best if I leave. She can keep house for me, and I’ll find some work to feed us both.”

“No. You belong here.” Tora paused. “Well, there’s nothing to be done then. I’ll tell the master. When he hears she’s your mother, I’m sure he’ll make her welcome.”

Saburo’s head sank lower. “Yes. But it isn’t right.”

“You’ll stay?”

Saburo nodded. “For a while. But what will you do?”

“I’m having a look at Enryaku-ji. See if I get any ideas. How about some directions?”

Saburo looked at him anxiously. “What do you plan to do?”

“I’d just like to get an idea of the place.”

“You’ll go back to Otsu first?”

Tora nodded.

“There’s a road up the mountain. All roads to Enryaku-ji are good. The main temple is actually surrounded by smaller, outlying temples. But you want to know about the
sohei.
They have their own place in one of the smaller temples. Few visitors ever go there, but it has its own main hall, lecture hall, and several training halls. They call them training halls, but they are really dojos. They teach fighting skills there. The place is tucked away on a steep mountain ridge. You can get to it from the main road. There’s a path that climbs the side of the mountain before you reach Enryaku-ji’s main gate. The
sohei
are separate from the other monks and come and go this way when they need to visit Otsu. The path leads to a gate, but the gatekeepers there won’t admit you. The whole complex is walled and surrounded by watch towers.”

“I was afraid of that. Any other way in?”

“Yes. You can get there from the Enryaku-ji grounds. That path is behind the Kaidan-in, the ordination hall. It’s well hidden and is for the monks only, and the
sohei
if they’re summoned by the abbot or participate in any of the temple observances. If you encounter anyone there, you’ll be stopped. And if you’re not, you still won’t get into their compound.”

Tora grinned. “I’ll be very careful.”

Saburo gave him a hard look. “Promise that you’ll come get me before you try anything dangerous.”

“I will. Thanks, brother.”


When Tora returned to Otsu, he found his master was preoccupied with the governor’s family. He was said to be visiting a shrine fair and had left no instructions for Tora. As it was not yet midday, Tora decided he had plenty of time for a visit to the temple.

So he got back on his horse and took the wide road that led from Otsu up the side of Mount Hiei to the huge temple complex that was Enryaku-ji. This time of year and in this weather the road was busy. Most of the pilgrims in their rough white cotton robes and wide straw hats, walked leaning on staffs, their provisions slung in bags over their shoulders. Some of the upper class faithful traveled by horse or in litters. All in all, there was a steady stream going up the mountain and coming back down.

Their spirits were high. For many of them, this was a welcome release from their usual labors and the long winter months inside their houses.

It was, of course, also good for their souls.

Above them rose the green mountain to a blue sky dotted with small clouds. The holy mountain, Mount Hiei, guardian of the capital. Tora believed mountains to be inhabited by ancient gods, but it was Enryaku-ji and other mountain temples that claimed to protect the people below.

The road climbed through forest dotted here and there with cherry trees bursting into bloom. Birds darted through the branches, and small wildflowers bloomed in the grass.

Soon Tora could see the tops of pagodas and some roofs of temple halls rising from the forest. There were many of these and they were widely separated. He began to realize the enormous size of the complex and got the first inkling that his plans might be beyond him. For the time being, he persisted. Closer to his destination, he came across the first roadside vendors. They sold all sorts of foods, amulets, straw sandals, straw hats, and straw coats, umbrellas, rosaries, and other items useful to pilgrims.

As it was long was past midday, Tora stopped for a bowl of noodles at one stand. The food was vegetarian, and any hopes he might have had for a cup of wine vanished. There was water, though, at a token price.

Eventually, he reached the entrance to the main temple—there were apparently many of these, scattered over the mountainside and associated with Enryaku-ji. He turned his horse over to a young monk, made a donation, and walked through the large, roofed Monju-ro gate into the temple grounds.

There was little to distinguish this mountain temple complex from many others. True, the halls and other buildings were in excellent condition, the red lacquered columns, railings, and eaves brilliant in the sun, and the gilding even brighter and very rich. But he found the pagoda unsatisfactory because it had only three levels. On the other hand, the sheer number of buildings stunned and bewildered him. How would he ever find his way around this place?

For a while, he just wandered about like the rest of the visitors. He paused before the Amida hall, thinking it rather small and unimportant looking. The Daiko-do, or great lecture hall, was more impressive. Following the general stream of pilgrims, he passed among many other halls, the Kanjo-do, used for initiations, the Yokokawashu-do, another large building, and the Komponchu-do with its colonnaded gallery. Beyond rose mountains, forests, and craggy rocks toward more halls and pagodas.

The monks’ living quarters were tucked away behind the main buildings, and nearby were storage buildings.

Ordinary monks in gray or black or pale robes stood or wandered about, offering to direct visitors and answering their questions, but Tora saw no
sohei
. He decided not to trouble the helpful monks with his own questions.

The sun was setting and he was getting tired before he gave up on seeing all of the huge temple complex and turned back to the main compound. He located the Kaidan-in, a small ordination hall, and found it awkwardly close to the lecture hall where a great number of monks seemed to be stationed. The path Saburo had mentioned skirted the side of the building. It was unmarked, and a monk stood there to make sure none of the visitors would be tempted to explore it. In fact, the more Tora thought about it, security was very good here. The monks he had seen mingling with visitors and pilgrims, offering to direct them, seemed to have been placed there as guards. It gave him a creepy feeling. No doubt, someone had already noted him as neither a sightseer nor a pilgrim. He paused to scan the area casually and caught several monks looking his way.

He had been careless.

They had something to hide!

Tora quickly mingled with the pilgrims, seeking out the heaviest concentration of people and moving with them, joining new groups, but always staying as close as possible to the Kaidan-in. A short time later, he got his chance. Across the way, in front of the pagoda, an outcry went up. Someone had fallen or fainted. Immediately, people started to drift in that direction, and with them went the watchers.

BOOK: The Old Men of Omi
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