The Samurai and the Long-Nosed Devils (11 page)

“I know!” cried Matsuzo. “We can call together some of Nobunaga's men here and ask them to come with me.”

“Nobunaga is hated on Mt. Hiei,” said Chiyo. “His men will not be allowed to get close to the monastery.” She thought for a moment. “The shogun is considered a neutral. Why don't we go to Kagemasa? He might help us.” “Do you really think he can help?” asked Matsuzo, feeling dubious. He didn't like Kagemasa's foppish manners, nor did he think much of the man's abilities. If all of the shogun's supporters were like this, it was small wonder that he had become a figurehead. On just one point Matsuzo had found himself in agreement with Kagemasa. They had both believed that Kotaro was the murderer of Lord Fujikawa. And now it seemed that they were both wrong.

“Kagemasa is our best hope,” said Chiyo. “He was favorably impressed with Zenta, I could tell. He would want to help.”

Chiyo was insistent and Matsuzo, who could think of nothing else to do, agreed to her plan. Kagemasa's residence was in the western part of Miyako, on the opposite side of the city from the Yasaka Shrine. As Matsuzo fought his way desperately through the dense crowd, he felt that the laughing, carefree faces of the people were mocking at him.

 

Zenta found the climb itself not difficult. In traveling from the northern part of the country to the capital city, he had climbed mountains much steeper than Mt. Hiei. What he had not foreseen was the exhausting effect of the heat. After the thunderstorm, the air had cleared and lost its suffocating humidity, but the sun now blazed down with a searing intensity.

Even the large basket hat which Zenta wore did not prevent the heat from beating down on his head. There was a constant high whine in his ears, and he didn't know whether it was actually the buzz of insects or whether it was induced in his head by the heat.

Viewed from below in Miyako, Mt. Hiei looked deceptively close. It loomed over the capital city both physically and spiritually. As the afternoon shadows lengthened, Zenta drove himself to walk faster. His kimono stuck wet on his shoulders and he had to pause more and more often to wipe the perspiration from his eyes. He also wiped his palms repeatedly so that they would not slip in case he had to reach for his sword. A constant state of preparedness was second nature to him.

He met a number of woodcutters. They deferentially made way for him on the narrow mountain trail, and seemed to be neither alarmed nor curious. Zenta concluded that samurai visitors to Mt. Hiei were common enough. There was probably considerable traffic between the militant monks and warlords who opposed the rising power of Nobunaga. Zenta knew that as long as the Mt. Hiei monks took him for a messenger from one of these warlords, he was perfectly safe.

The Hour of the Dog was just being struck on a huge bronze bell when Zenta finally arrived at the monastery. The deep booming reverberated among the trees and majestic temple buildings, whose interiors already looked cavernous in the evening light. Magnificent as some of the buildings were, they were dwarfed by the centuries-old cedar trees whose trunks rose up like pillars, taller and thicker than the man-made pillars of the temple buildings.

The monastery was immense. With nearly three thousand temples on its grounds, it crowned the top of Mt. Hiei like a major city. A stranger could easily be lost for days in the grounds. Fortunately Maria had supplied the name of the temple and the abbot whom Zenta wished to see.

When he asked a young monk for directions, the man looked intently at him, but consented to show the way. The monk was as muscular as any samurai that Zenta had ever seen, and he had the springy walk of a trained fighter. If it had not been for his cropped head, he could easily have been taken for a ronin.

A group of monks were polishing their spears near the entrance of the temple sought by Zenta. Removing his hat, he announced his name to the doorkeeper and asked for the favor of an interview with the abbot. After the doorkeeper had left, Zenta bent down to untie his sandals. He did not see one of the monks glance up sharply at him.

The abbot's appearance was a surprise. After the husky monks he had seen so far, Zenta had expected to meet someone who looked like a warlord. Instead, the thin ascetic face of the abbot suggested a contemplative spirit far removed from thoughts of war. Zenta suspected that the abbot came from a noble rather than a samurai family.

Bowing deeply, Zenta was just about to raise his head and state his business when the sliding door of the abbot's study opened with a violence which sent it rattling on its runners. “There he is!” shouted a deep voice. “Kill the spy before he harms our abbot!”

Zenta looked up into the furious eyes of the monk whom he had last seen among the wreckage of the eel vendor's stand. Even as he wondered how he had been identified, the monk, accompanied by three companions, rushed forward with spears in hand.

“Stop, Ungen!” The voice of the abbot checked the monks instantly. “What is the meaning of this? Why are you accusing the visitor of being a spy?”

“He is a henchman of the long-nosed devils!” cried the monk Ungen. “I saw him yesterday morning when I was pretending to work in Lord Fujikawa's garden. He must have been sent to spy on us. Perhaps he is here to attempt an assassination. We must kill him at once!”

Zenta was cursing himself for his oversight. He had so many things occupying his thoughts recently that the false gardener had simply slipped his mind. It was a pity that his visit to Mt. Hiei had begun on this note of distrust. He had to remove this distrust.

Upon entering the room he had already taken out his long sword and placed it behind him, as demanded by propriety. Now, moving very slowly so that there was no misunderstanding of his intention, he took out his short sword from his sash and placed it beside the long one. Then he pushed both swords towards the monk Ungen. “Before you attack, please hear me first,” he said quietly.

Intelligence did not appear to be one of Ungen's strong points, but even he could not mistake this gesture of total surrender. A puzzled frown gathered over his thick brows. But at a sign from the abbot, he sat down heavily like a sulky child. His three companions did the same.

The abbot turned to Zenta, and his eyes were not unkind. “You have obviously climbed our mountain in some urgency and you look tired. I shall give orders for tea to be prepared. In the meantime tell us your business.”

Hearing the abbot's words, Zenta bowed and closed his eyes for a second with relief. “I do admit to being a bodyguard of the Portuguese,” he began. When the monks behind him growled angrily, he said, “According to the teachings of the Lord Buddha, all life is sacred. It is my job to preserve the lives of the foreigners.”

The abbot nodded. “Go on,” he said.

“This morning, Lord Fujikawa, whose house is next to that of the Portuguese, was discovered murdered,” continued Zenta.

“This we have heard,” said the abbot. Zenta was surprised, until he remembered that the Mt. Hiei monks had partisans among the townspeople and warlords in Miyako. News of importance such as Lord Fujikawa's murder would not be slow in reaching the monastery. He said, “You may have also heard that the Portuguese were accused of being the murderers.”

“But I have heard that they were later shown to be innocent,” said the abbot. He smiled. “There was some evidence involving footprints, and my guess is that you are the man who pointed out the clue to the shogun's investigator.”

The abbot was certainly well informed. Zenta nodded. “What you do not know is that there is a new clue. An orange-colored tuft was found in Lord Fujikawa's garden and identified as belonging to one of the monks here.”

Hearing a sudden intake of breath behind him, Zenta turned around and saw the dismay on Ungen's face. He knew who the owner of the tuft was.

Nor did the abbot miss the look of dismay. “Did the tuft belong to you, Ungen?” he asked.

Ungen's face was gray. “Yes, but I lost it earlier when I went to pose as the gardener. I swear it!”

“But Chiyo said that she saw you running through Lord Fujikawa's garden at the time of the murder,” said Zenta. “And she identified you by the orange tuft on your chest.”

There was a roar of anger and Ungen's spear flashed down. But Zenta had already rolled aside. He caught at a second spear that was thrust at him by one of Ungen's companions. But his reflexes were slowed by exhaustion, and he felt a sting on his right forearm.

“Stop this at once!” ordered the abbot. His voice was not loud, but its note of command was equal to any warlord's. “Ungen: You and your friends will place your spears in the hall. If you cannot control yourselves, then go and join your weapons outside.”

Ungen began to weep loudly. “It's not true!” he sobbed. “I didn't go back that night.” He turned and glared at Zenta with red and streaming eyes. “You're lying! Chiyo would never say that about me!”

Acutely embarrassed by the sight of this hulking monk weeping like a child, Zenta bent his head and dabbed at the shallow cut on his arm. One of his suspicions had been confirmed: Ungen was in love with Chiyo. The other monks placed their spears outside and tried to calm Ungen.

“Is that cut serious?” asked the abbot.

“No, it's only a small graze,” replied Zenta, wrapping his sleeve tightly about his arm. He had decided that it was time to tell the abbot the whole truth.

“Ungen was right,” he said gravely. “What I said was a lie, but it was Chiyo who had lied in saying that she saw the tuft on Ungen's chest at the time of the murder. I asked her how she could see in the dark. She replied that she saw the orange tuft during one of the flashes of lightning.”

“It is possible to see quite well in a lightning flash,” said the abbot. “It can be almost as bright as daylight.”

“But there is one property of lightning which I've noticed before,” said Zenta. “During a flash of lightning certain colors are changed. In that particular blue radiance, orange appears gray.”

“Yes, I see now,” said the abbot slowly. “Chiyo could not have seen the orange tuft.”

“Chiyo was lying,” said Zenta. “And the purpose of my visit is to find out why she lied. What sort of person is she? Only you can tell me. I believe that you've known her since she was a child. Did she act from a deep hatred of Mt. Hiei? Or was she part of a political plot? It's desperately urgent for me to find out.”

The abbot was silent for a long time. His face had appeared ageless at first, but now Zenta could see faint lines on it. Finally he sighed. “You are right about Chiyo's hatred. How much of her background do you know?” “I heard that Chiyo and her mother were among the villagers of Sakamoto who served the monastery. When her mother died, Chiyo became afraid that she might be molested by some of the monks here. Eventually she fled down the mountain to Miyako.”

“All good lies contain elements of truth,” said the abbot. “What Chiyo did not tell you was that her mother was a village girl who had been seduced by one of the monks on Mt. Hiei, and that Chiyo was his child.”

Zenta felt his face stiffen with shock. The abbot smiled sadly at him. “It has been said, and truly, that many of the monks here are fugitives from justice and from worldly failures. The younger ones, especially, are often most unsuited to a religious life. Our monastery is too old and too powerful. We have grown arrogant and corrupt. Sometimes I think that Nobunaga is right when he claims that it is time to destroy us and start afresh.” Zenta began to understand Chiyo's hatred of Mt. Hiei. The degradation of the life that she and her mother had led must have left deep scars. “Was there an attempt to seduce her like her mother?” he asked.

“This is where Chiyo's lies begin,” said the abbot. “From a very early age, she showed signs of unusual cleverness. I took charge of her education, hoping to put that cleverness to good use. But in the end she chose to use her charm and intelligence to enslave some of the young monks here.”

Zenta's eyes went to Ungen. The monk was staring straight ahead in a daze of bewilderment and grief. Had Chiyo tried to take revenge for her mother's seduction by corrupting the young monk? Zenta wondered if Chiyo found the revenge inadequate. Was that why she had attempted to put the blame for Lord Fujikawa's murder on the Mt. Hiei monks? “The girl grew beautiful, as beautiful as her mother,” said the abbot softly. He seemed to be talking to himself and no longer conscious of his audience. “But something happened to her after her mother died. It was as if a demon had possessed her. She became wild and began to use her beauty destructively. Finally I had to punish her. She screamed at me and threatened revenge. The next day I discovered that she had left the monastery.”

Something in the abbot's soft voice caused a suspicion to form in Zenta's mind. Was it possible that the abbot was Chiyo's father? It would explain many things. The girl probably loved and respected the abbot. Then came the shock and disillusionment of learning the truth about her birth, and finally punishment by her father. Her love must have turned into hatred.

Ungen suddenly spoke. “Chiyo didn't intend to stay away forever. She sent me messages, and I went to see her several times. But she always teased me so much that I never knew what she really wanted.”

Zenta looked pityingly at the monk, for he knew what Chiyo wanted. She wanted Ungen to look ridiculous to the townspeople, and she wanted witnesses to see him in the neighborhood of Lord Fujikawa's house. In fact she must have made the arrangements for Ungen to enter the residence as a gardener. And she used the opportunity to cut the orange-colored tuft from Ungen's yuigesa. The only question was, did Chiyo have the imagination and ruthlessness to steal Pedro's gun and commit the murder? To answer that, Zenta had to learn more about Chiyo's character from the abbot.

 

It was very late when Matsuzo and Chiyo finally reached Kagemasa's residence. Unlike a castle town with its few narrow streets of armorers, fletchers, and other artisans of war equipment, Miyako was an immense city with straight avenues that stretched on and on. Crossing the city from east to west took a long time. Matsuzo found the going very difficult. Because of the festivities at the Yasaka Shrine, the streets were filled with people all pushing in the direction opposite to the way he was trying to go. He had to rely on Chiyo to show him the way, but the crowd continually separated them. When they finally arrived, it was to discover that Kagemasa was away attending the shogun. He and the girl were invited to enter and wait.