Yamada Monogatari: To Break the Demon Gate (22 page)

There are artists at the town of Otsu on the eastern road who sell small, humorous pictures to travelers and other pilgrims. Some showed ogres dressed as mendicant monks in the company of courtesans. Some showed ogres sitting in proper meditation, seeking Enlightenment. So far as I was concerned, any of those painted ogres had far more chance of reaching Enlightenment than Fujiwara no Sentaro had of abandoning either politics or ambition for the peace of Enryaku-ji, or for that matter anywhere or anything else. It was as if one expected a snake to forego slithering and walk upright; the concept was simply nonsense.

To break the Demon Gate, one must first open it.

I wondered at the origins of that saying, as the Demon Gate had never been breached in a military sense but was a constant avenue for ghosts, demons,
tengu,
and worse. Still, I found myself thinking about the proverb as I followed Prince Kanemore through the inner compound gates and into a large meditation hall.

The hall was empty, save for Lord Sentaro kneeling at the foot of the dais, apparently waiting for us. His head was shaven now, and he wore the proper robes of a temple
hojo
with a string of large wooden prayer beads around his neck, but the face was the one I remembered. That is, until we got close enough to bow formally and kneel before him on the cushions provided. When I gazed into the man’s face from a distance of no more than the height of a man, my first thought made me forget to breathe.

That is not Fujiwara no Sentaro.

Certainly, Master Dai-wu bore a remarkable similarity to the former Lord Sentaro. If I pictured the man now kneeling in front of me with hair and formal Court robes, he could certainly pass for Lord Sentaro by feature, but the resemblance was merely at the surface. No matter how my eyes reassured me that this man was, indeed, the former Minister of Justice and Deputy Minister of the Right, my mind refused to believe it. I looked into the kind, gentle eyes of Master Dai-wu of Enryaku-ji and I simply could not see Lord Fujiwara no Sentaro in there anywhere.

I finally took a slow breath. Fortunately, Prince Kanemore took care of the formal greetings; I merely had to bow slightly as Prince Kanemore introduced me. Of course, I needed no introduction to Lord Sentaro, but Master Dai-wu was another matter completely.

In my time I had known many men and women who were adept at keeping their emotions under control and their faces blank. Others were masters at writing lies upon that blank paper for all to see and believe. I had been fooled before, but never twice by the same person and always because, for whatever reason, I had let my guard down. Yet as guarded and watchful as I was now, I was seldom fooled, because the one thing no one can do face to face is hide their eyes, for the truth is always there if you know how to look. Perhaps intent is hard to see; subtle, but it is always present. I looked into the eyes of the man I had known for years as Fujiwara no Sentaro, and I could find no trace of him. None. The man looking at me now, calling himself Master Dai-wu,
hojo
of Enryaku Temple, had eyes as open and guileless as those of a child. I did see a shadow there, something I could not quite identify, but its nature was not clear, and the hint of whatever it might be did nothing to change my initial impressions. Despite my great respect for Prince Kanemore, my presumption all along was that he had simply been fooled.

If that was the case, then I had just been fooled, too.

Dai-wu was speaking again. I forced myself to listen.

“On behalf of Enryaku-ji, I accept the Emperor’s gracious gift. I, too, have a gift for His Majesty. May I entrust this to your protection?”

Prince Kanemore bowed low. “As Your Immanence wishes. Are there any special preparations that must be made?”

Master Dai-wu smiled. “Nothing so delicate as that, Highness. My humble gift is merely a fine new copy of the Lotus Sutra that His Majesty requested for his study and benefit. The two nuns who accompanied you here will see to its conveyance. All you need do is give them safe escort on your return to the Imperial Court.”

It was a perfectly reasonable request. While the roads were relatively safe on this side of the capital, there was always the chance of misadventure for women traveling alone, nuns or otherwise.

“It will be done,” Prince Kanemore said, bowing again.

The master of Senryaku Temple now turned to me, though he still spoke to Kanemore. “Highness, I think your companion and I have something we need to discuss in private. Would you please indulge me for a few moments?”

Prince Kanemore frowned and glanced at me, but of course I had no basis to object. As Kanemore withdrew I waited and wondered what I would hear from the man I had once known as Lord Sentaro, and now did not think I knew at all. One thing I did know, as now Master Dai-wu and I kneeled facing each other, was the man opposite me now was afraid. Very afraid.

Of me?

No. The fear was there plain to see as Master Dai-wu, so far as all my senses and skills told me, concealed nothing. But I did not think I had triggered it. Now I recognized his fear for what it was, I think it had been there all along; it was a shadow on the man’s face I had seen but did not understand.

When Master Dai-wu spoke, it was very carefully and softly, as if he were afraid we would be overheard. I did not see how this could be so since we were the only two people present, and if some other presence should appear, such as a ghost or demon, I was certain that I would know it. At the moment there was nothing.

“Lord Yamada, you were educated at the Imperial University, were you not? I mean, yes, I understand I should know this, but is it so?”

“It is,” I said, wondering why it mattered. Most men of noble blood were sent to University at some point, even one as lowly as myself. Since there weren’t enough Fujiwara to fill each and every niche in the Imperial administration, such training was considered necessary for the upper classes, though some did manage to avoid it.

“Then I trust you know what the term
inazuma
means, in a poetical context?”

“The flash of lightning, separate from the lightning itself. Since the kanji for the name can also symbolize rice, it’s often used as a poetic allusion for harvest time.” I was a little satisfied that I still remembered, after so long. I was more puzzled, however, as to why he was asking the question in the first place. Apparently my puzzlement was as obvious as Master Dai-wu’s fear.

“Please bear with me, Lord Yamada. I would say it plainly, but then it could not be said.”

I frowned. “What could not be said?”

“And there’s the problem. I will do my best. It’s not my doing. None of it.”

“I don’t understand.”

He sighed. “No. Neither did I for a long time. I think I do now.
Inazuma.
Sometimes people say it means lightning, but you know better. It is the flash, the illumination, not the thing itself. One does not fear the flash. One fears the lightning. Rightly so. Remember that.”

I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to remember. I was slowly coming to the conclusion that the man was stark raving mad. Then, when I had stopped looking for it, clarity came. Master Dai-wu looked at me.

“What is faster than lightning? The flash of light that precedes it. What the lightning would destroy, it first illuminates, that is its nature. There is almost no time between one and the other, but there is some time. Very little. Yet the wise man, the prepared man, may have time to act.”

He was gone. Almost between one breath and the next, Master Dai-wu was gone. In his place sat a man who looked like Master Dai-wu and was dressed as Dai-wu, but no one, and especially not me, would ever confuse the two.

I was now looking into the hatefully familiar face of Lord Fujiwara no Sentaro.

“Lord Yamada,” he said, in a voice of pure poison, “We meet again.”

In prayer, you clap

to get the god’s attention.

Gods are too flighty.

As is my heart’s true desire.

How shall I gain your notice?

The effect was instantaneous; I sensed no transition. If the room seemed a little colder, it was only because of the man before me now. Lord Sentaro, no question, no doubt. The tonsure and the robes meant absolutely nothing.

“I’ve been expecting you for some time,” he said. “Frankly I’m disappointed it took you so long to seek me out.”

“It is you now, isn’t it? How are you doing that?” I asked.

He smiled. “Do? My dear Lord Yamada, I have done nothing. Yet. Wheels are turning, just like the Wheel of Life and Death and Rebirth that I must harp about when I am Master Dai-wu. But action? That is to come. Yet I am pleased you remember me. The one whose noble purposes you previously thwarted? Yes, I think you should remember.”

“Noble?”

He sighed. “One such as yourself would never understand what planning and preparation is required, the time spent nurturing one’s vision so that matters will turn out as they should. I cheerfully concede that Princess Teiko bested me once, but she is no longer a consideration. And, while I also concede that I underestimated you once, it is a mistake I will not be repeating. If you believe nothing else I tell you now, please believe that.”

I felt the presence of the dagger in my sleeve, hard and reassuring. “What are you going to tell me?”

“Why, I am going to tell you what I am going to do, Lord Yamada. That’s what you want to know, is it not? You see, I had some time to think about this while I was at Suma. I have given the matter very careful consideration indeed.”

“So this really was about avoiding your banishment, and revenge on me. Nothing more.”

Lord Sentaro made a face. “Lord Yamada, this may be a shock to you, but neither my world nor anyone else’s is centered on such a wretched creature as you. Oh, I’m going to have my revenge, make no mistake. It’s a pettiness on my part, certainly, yet that revenge is merely repayment for what I suffered and a side matter at best. My true purpose has not wavered. Shall I tell you what that is?”

“No need. You want to see Prince Norihira on the throne.”

“Want? No, Lord Yamada. I
will
see Prince Norihira on the throne. How? I should think that is obvious: I’m going to kill Prince Takahito.”

I almost forgot to breathe again. “You won’t.”

He smiled then, a smile that was a horrible parody of the serene, benevolent smile of Master Dai-wu. “I will. And there is nothing, I repeat,
nothing
you can do to stop me.”

“Prince Kanemore will stop you.
I
will stop you.”

He laughed at me, then sighed. “Fools. Kanemore only sees Master Dai-wu, and that is the way I want it. But you are fortunate, Lord Yamada. You have seen the truth. Shall I tell you why? Have you guessed? No? Then I will tell you. See, I seriously considered killing you. That would bring me a moment or two of satisfaction, I admit, but deep down in that pit you call a soul I think you really want to die, and should I serve you as you wish? No. So then I thought of a much better idea.”

While I had little doubt he was going to tell me whether I wished to hear it or not, I had to ask the question. “And what is that?”

His expression was pure mad joy. “Princess Teiko’s bastard son will never sit on the throne, but to that I add this: you’re going to know that Prince Kanemore has failed her, that
you
have failed her. That Princess Teiko’s death, which I concede was very well-played, was ultimately for nothing. You are going to live, Lord Yamada, knowing that Teiko has lost and I have won. Bear this knowledge for just as long as you wish. That is my gift to you.”

I thought of the dagger in my sleeve. What would follow would only be the work of a moment. I thought.

“Please leave your silly knife where it is, Lord Yamada. I am not unprotected, even like this. Do not make me prove it to you.”

I believed him, and tempting as his throat was, I could not take the risk. “I had not thought even you were so great at deception, Lord Sentaro. Your ‘Master Dai-wu’ guise had me fooled.”

“As usual, you think you understand,” Lord Sentaro said, “but of course you do not. Good. You do not disappoint me. You may withdraw now. Prince Kanemore is waiting. He will not, of course, believe you.”

I did not bow. It was all I could do to rise and walk toward the entrance without staggering or being sick. When I glanced back, I saw nothing but Master Dai-wu, serene before the buddhas on the dais, with eyes concealing nothing, expression kind and gentle. I knew that if I had not seen what I had just seen and heard what I had just heard, I would have left the temple compound of Enryaku-ji as completely fooled as Prince Kanemore still clearly was. I wasn’t sure what I could do about that, but at least there was no longer any doubt about Lord Sentaro’s intentions. I found myself feeling grateful for that bit of clarity.

An area where some clarity would have been greatly appreciated was the matter of how Lord Sentaro’s deception had been accomplished. The transformation was so complete and sudden, it was if Master Dai-wu had been possessed.

Possessed by what? Himself?

Lord Sentaro was wrong about one thing, at least—I did not think I understood, at all. I was no closer to an answer but much closer, I knew, to the point where the answer would no longer matter.

Once out of the immediate presence of Lord Sentaro, the air and my head both began to feel clearer. Prince Kanemore was waiting for me at the door.

“Well?” he asked.

“I have seen what you have seen, in Master Dai-wu,” I said carefully. “But you have not seen everything.”

Prince Kanemore let out a gusty sigh. “Are you going to start this argument again?”

I wanted to, but I knew a losing battle when I saw one. “No. I know why you feel the way you do. I cannot blame you. I must think about this matter some more, for I am very puzzled. Will you settle for this?”

“I had hoped the matter of Lord Sentaro was at least one concern we could put behind us.” Prince Kanemore did look a little disappointed, but he finally spread his hands. “So be it. You are a stubborn man, Lord Yamada.”