The Way of the Fox (39 page)

As they reached the village,
Sura took Chiri’s hand and plunged into the crowds in absolute delight. Kuno, Tonbo and the elementals hastened after the women, ducking and blinking as the party crowds danced and swirled around them. A group of travelling tanuki spirits all walked past in their fur forms – striped tails waving and muzzles sniffing eagerly at the scents of grilling fish. At the grill itself, a family of cat spirits stood eagerly watching the cook, wide eyed with eager hunger.

Idō wan
– ‘migration bay’ – was definitely a melting pot.

Whalers were the heroes of the day. They were easy to find: muscular men, armed with swords or cleavers
and dressed in a wild motley of robes. Each man wore a bright-coloured headband, and many bore quite spectacular scars from their battles with the giants of the seas. One big man hung with gold had lost a hand: the stump was now socketed into a heavy blade. Beside the one handed man another whaler towered above the crowds – a huge behemoth with an eye patch made from a black iron sword guard. Both men were hung with gold coins threaded onto chains. Both men were also surrounded by drunken harlots who hung on their every word. The one-handed man was telling tales of great battles against whale and storm, spinning astounding pictures for an admiring crowd. Children listened spellbound to his words.

Amongst all the revelry, there were other people sitting quietly to one side – fishermen in plain robes who showed none of the whalers’ tawdry finery. It was these people who clearly lived in the modest, impoverished houses further down along the shore. They kept away from the festival and its ever-busy crowds.

Swapping over to her
eboshi
cap, Sura waded forward and plunged in amongst a nest of trading booths. She spoke to a seller of good luck charms, and swapped some prayer papers for some coins – the coins were then swapped for a bag of rice cookies and skewers laden with sweet dumplings, piping hot. Sura came back wearing her whale hat once again, and carrying a painted wooden fox mask that she found highly amusing. She brought the snack food to her friends and sat happily with them on an old overturned boat as they ate and watched the crowds go by.

A storyteller stood nearby, striking a fan into his hand again and again as he vigorously chanted out the words of an heroic, epic story. He had a pet monkey
who acted out the story – a monkey fitted out with a fox mask, robes and bushy tail. He seemed to be telling a tale of the great Fox Spirit – apparently stealing the secret of fire from the Yama King… or possibly swiping a cake recipe from some sort of giant frog – the story didn’t seem quite clear on that point. The storyteller had worked himself into such a squeaking frenzy of oration that his words were almost incomprehensible. But the monkey made up for it, posturing about the place and doffing a handsome little eboshi cap. Sura was quite royally entertained.

“Are you guys seeing this? This is hilarious!
” The fox stripped the dumplings from her skewer with one swipe of her jaws. “We should totally get him to drop in on Kitsune Mountain!”

Kuno looked at the performance in
bewilderment. “Would not your people find it… well… slightly odd or offensive?”

“What? Oh hell no!
Hey – maybe we still even have that cake recipe?” Sura threw her stick away over her shoulder: it landed in a merchant’s hat. “This would go over great!”

Sura left the performer with a coin, a biscuit for himself and another for the monkey. The little animal doffed its hat to her politely. Sura spoke to the performer about the trials and tribulations of the road as they sat and crunched their sugar biscuits.
Finally she rose, tipped her hat to man and monkey, then swerved off to chatter to the musicians at another stall.

Sitting on the overturned boat, Tonbo, Kuno
, Chiri and the elementals watched the crowds with interest. Tonbo and Daitanishi both regarded the blade-handed whaler from afar. The man clearly seemed to be the whaler’s chief. He and his inner circle of men were adorned with gold. The one eyed giant carried a no-dachi that could have easily carved a whale like a sardine. Tonbo looked thoughtfully at the sword.

“Big weapons.”

Chiri flicked a wondering glance towards the ocean. “They must be very brave, to risk combat with so large a beast as a whale.”

“They clearly have a high opinion of themselves.” Tonbo leaned on his tetsubo and considered. “
Big money.”

Over to one side of the festival, order suddenly appeared. Villagers and festival goers
knelt as Buddhist priests set down a portable shrine bedecked with flowers.

Warrior monks in cowls and black-laced armour marched forward in a solemn procession, two by two, carrying heavy naginatas. They escorted an elaborately decorated palanquin carried b
y stiff-faced servants who wore the alien costumes of the imperial court. Maids and porters followed after the palanquin, all moving with an absolute frozen dignity.

The palanquin was set down upon a clean-swept space opposite the shrine. The whaler chief and his men
came forward, kneeling down to bow to the occupant. Two servants came to flank the front of the palanquin: they solemnly knelt and drew up the curtains, then bent forward in rigidly formal bows.

A court noble sat in the palanquin – a middle-aged man with an
eboshi cap and embroidered
suikan
robes. His narrow face had high cheekbones, a wisp of beard and a serpent’s icy black eyes. He coldly acknowledged the bows of the whalers, the townsfolk and the Buddhist priests.

Sura – now in her fur form – neither bowed, nor ceased leaning on a post and
munching her biscuit. She kept a calculating eye upon the court nobleman, taking great interest in the man’s cold face.

“High rank. The senior priests there are all really scraping to him.”

“He must be the sponsor of the festival.” Chiri had never before seen a true noble of the court. She looked at the man, feeling a strange shiver of aversion. “He is clearly of very high rank. The village is surely fortunate to have such a patron.”

“Hmm.” Sura looked to Kuno. “Have you heard of this guy?”

“He carries a golden phoenix billet.” Kuno nodded to the golden sign of office carried in the noble’s hand. “He must be of the first or upper second rank.”

“A
prince? Like – related to the emperor?”

“An uncle to the emperor, perhaps.” Kuno nodded, not wanting to be seen to be directly examining the nobleman. “High rank indeed.”

Sura frowned, and dusted herself of crumbs. “Indeed.”

The cold nobleman emerged from his palanquin
. The chief whaler came forward to briefly confer with the man, then the noble directed his servants to bring forth gifts to the whalers – gorgeous embroidered robes. In return, the noble was presented with lacquered boxes filled with delicacies. With the exchange complete, the whalers bowed. Gongs were struck, then the Buddhist priests solemnly began to chant.

It was one of those long, droning Buddhist ceremonies that made Sura so very glad to be a Taoist. She faded back behind a shed, and busied herself eating
more biscuits. The crunching sound was loud enough to make Kuno frown. The festival came entirely to a halt as the Buddha was invoked in his ten trillion and
umpty-tiddly-dum
forms. Bells were rung, and prayers offered at the portable shrine. Sura gave a great gap-toothed yawn and occupied herself with the entertainer’s monkey, trying to teach him how to strut exactly like her own aunt Kagone.

Finally the chants and prayers came to an end. Great clouds of incense were released, blowing off instantly in the sea breeze. The crowds bowed deeply once again.
The noble – escorted by armed monks, maids and servants – walked to a screened enclosure nearby, where a reception had been prepared. Sura stood up and stretched – a kink in her back clicking loudly back in place.

With the ceremonials done, the crowd surged back to their feet. A sweet-seller
began to call, and the festival-goers started talking once again, discussing the amazing arrival of the nobleman. The festival surged back into life, as entertainers surged in to fill the air with noise. The Spirit Hunters moved onward, wandering towards the seaside, stopping off to inspect a display of whale bones that lay beside a large, ramshackle inn.

Sura delighted in
wearing her fox mask, then whipping it off to reveal her fox face to passing children. The children delighted in the game, following after her, edging closer and closer until one dared to reach out and touch her tail. Sura would then run after the children, sending them squealing out into the streets.

An excited young whaler suddenly came racing from the beach, tasselled fan in hand, waving it fit to burst. He shouted wildly across the noise of the crowds

“A whale! They’re coming! The lookout has seen a whale!”

The crowd
surged off towards the beach, following the whaler to the shore. Sura whipped out her chopsticks and gleefully stropped them on her sleeve.

“
Research time!”

The fox was off and racing for the surf. Tonbo trundled after her, armour clanking.

“Come on. There’s no telling what she’ll eat if we don’t get there first.”

Kuno, Chiri and the elementals made haste to follow
, trotting along amongst a cheering, excited crowd.

At the shoreline, two large galleys were
casting off from a brand new wooden jetty. Long whaling boats – lean and fast, were being run down to the waterline by their crews. The fisher folk stood listlessly over to one far side of the chaos, while whalers roared and posed. The festival goers foamed out onto the beech, surrounding the whaleboats to wave and cheer. But they fell back to make an open path to the ships as the blade-handed whaler and his crowd of men came marching from the town. The whalers now held harpoons and long lances, grappling hooks and great coils of rope. They strode heroically towards the ships, waving and basking in the adulation.

Once again, the noble’s palanquin had appeared. The curtain was raised, and the noble’
s servants and escorts knelt and bowed. But this time the whaler chief did not kneel. He mounted the edge of the jetty, standing high above the crowds. Like a mighty warlord, he brandished a whaling harpoon and bellowed to his men. The whalers roared back to him in reply.

The whaling chef turned, planted his harpoon butt-first on the planks beside him, and held out his hand. The festival goers
eventually quieted their cheers, and the big man roared out to them in a huge sea-going voice.

“
My Revered Prince Horigawa, Minister of the Right, High Priest of Isē, Patron of the Great Nine-fold Shrine, we bid you welcome!

“
Honoured guests – lords, ladies and celebrants. We bid you welcome!

“
Fellow revellers – we bid you welcome!”

The
crowd cheered. The big whaler utterly gloried in it, thrusting out his chest and striking his harpoon against the boards.

“
I am Red Kenta – Grand High Procurer of Giants of the Sea – Provider to the Table of the Court and Emperor!”

The crowd were deafeningly loud in their appreciation. Tonbo heard the whaler’s titles, and raised one brow, leaning over to comment into Kuno’s ear. He had to shout in order to be heard.

“Those are actual titles?”

“They are.” Kuno
shouted back, amazed at the level of noise. “The court grants them for sending ongoing offerings of provisions.”

Sura had overheard. She
called back to Kuno, enjoying the energy of the crowd.

“
They called him that because he sent some whale meat to the court?”

“
They did.”

“
We could totally do that too! I should post the emperor something!” Sura looked happily about the beach. “What do you think I could provide?”

Kuno
managed to keep an innocent face. “Fleas?”

Sura’s answer was lost in the great upsurge of noise from the crowd – but it did include a hand gesture
and sticking out her long pink tongue.

Up on his prominence, the chief whaler was still boasting to the crowd. With the ships and boats behind him ready, he struck an heroic pose and made ready to depart.

“The first whale has been sighted in the bay! So today, the whalers row forth! When we return, the first catch is our gift to you all – a gift to please the gods with our prowess and our generosity!”
The man gestured grandly to the sea.
“We shall sail – and then all will feast!”

The whaler ran and leapt into his ship. The oarsmen began to shout in unison
as the vessels surged on into the waves. Standing at the rails of their ships, the men worked back and forth at the oars, swirling blades in the water, looking eagerly towards the open sea. At the bows, men with tasselled fans shouted out the pace to the rowers. Festival goers were cheering and banners flying – it was a brave sight. The Spirit Hunters – inland dwellers to a man – watched in fascination. Chiri had seen many vessels on the great lakes in her time, but nothing to match these lean, swift boats spearing out into the great wild sea. She stood watching, her eyes wide, with Daitanishi and Bifuuko clinging close against her.