“I can’t hold it for long!”
Fortunately, I did not have to do so. Kenji reached us, and as the creature strained toward my throat, Kenji slapped a ward on the top of its head. The paper clung there as if nailed, and I felt the monster weaken. I took the hilt of Morofusa’s
kodachi
in both hands and twisted it hard. I was relieved to see the light slowly fade from the creature’s eyes; the battle was over. The
inugami
’s body turned into mist and drifted away into the night.
Yoshitsune helped Morofusa back to his feet, but had to hold him there as Morofusa’s breaths were coming in great gasps, and I realized he’d had the wind knocked out of him. I had a scratch or two and that appeared to be the extent of our injuries.
We were very lucky.
“What . . . what was that thing? Did it get away?” Morofusa asked when he could talk again.
“An
inugami
,” Kenji said. “Similar to a
shikigami
, but much more dangerous . . . to all concerned. It didn’t get away. It was essentially a spirit, not a living creature, and when we destroyed it, there was nothing left.”
“What do you mean, ‘dangerous to all concerned’? I think those of us here in the temple were the only ones in danger.”
“The ritual that creates a
inugami
is a simple one,” I said, “but also vile and despicable. The very nature of that ritual often means the
inugami
would turn on its creator at the first opportunity. The only exceptions I know are some criminal clans that are known for their expertise in making and using them. Anyone else would have to be either very desperate or very foolish to even consider it.”
Some people had left the main hall to gather on the south veranda, staring our direction. I heard the murmur of voices. “We’re attracting too much attention. Gentlemen, thank you, but please return to your stations. We’ll see to Morofusa-shōshō.”
“Yes, Lord Yamada,” they said in unison and left.
Kenji and I leant our support to Morofusa as we went back through the pavilion. We found him a seat while we examined the clothing the
inugami
had left behind, but it contained nothing of any interest.
“From what you’ve told me,” Morofusa said, “it seems likely that the
inugami
was the tool of an assassin.”
I grunted. “The thought did occur to me, but who was it after?”
Kenji looked at me. “We know it wasn’t after either of us, or it would have attacked us in this pavilion. Instead it tried to get away.”
“Through the courtyard,” Morofusa said. “In the general direction of the audience hall. I’ll wager the intended victim was Princess Tagako. We interrupted it before its chosen moment.”
“Also likely, as she is of the royal family and thus certainly the most important person in our company. Yet that alone is not a reason for such an extraordinary step,” I said.
Morofusa looked thoughtful. “Banditry I understand, but this would be simple murder. Why would anyone wish to harm the princess?”
Morofusa had just cut to the heart of the matter. “Indeed, that is almost certainly the key question. Assuming she was the target, why? What possible reason could anyone have?”
None of us had an answer to that. Me, least of all.
“Lord Yamada, do you take me for an idiot?”
I had been wondering how to broach the subject of the assassination attempt, but apparently I was taking too long on it, because Princess Tagako ended my hesitation by summoning me to a private audience. We were never really alone, of course, but her attendants again kept just out of earshot, and Tagako spoke from behind a
kicho
so that I only saw her in silhouette.
“I gather you heard the . . . disturbance?”
“Everyone heard it. Especially that howling, which clearly wasn’t human, so please don’t insult me by pretending nothing happened. If there’s a danger to those around me, I need to know of it.”
“Master Kenji, Morofusa-san, and I discovered an
inugami
lurking in the pavilion.”
Princess Tagako didn’t speak for several long moments. “An
inugami
? Are you certain?”
“There’s no question of it. If you understand what an
inugami
is, then you must realize they are often created as instruments of revenge, or assassination.”
“Of course, but Lord Yamada, look around you. This is an old temple, decrepit and barely used. Did it not occur to you that what you found was simply some leftover product of some ancient dark summoning, remaining here long after the one who called it perished?”
I bowed. “I admit the possibility. However, I do not believe this to be the case. An abandoned
inugami
would not have lived in peaceful contemplation in its old haunts for any length of time. They are vicious creatures by design, and someone would have died long before now. Probably several someones. I think it more likely the creature hadn’t been here any longer than we have.”
“I am very grateful to all of you for dealing with the creature,” she said. “Nor do I mean to sound harsh, but if what you say is correct, we need to know why the thing was here in the first place.”
Princess Tagako’s grasp of the situation, as I expected, was excellent.
“Your Highness, I am in agreement—we need to know who the intended target was. We might presume it would be you.”
“Me?” I didn’t need to see her face to register her surprise. It was clear in her voice. “Who would wish to harm me? I am nothing.”
“You are far from nothing, Highness,” I said softly.
I heard her sigh. “That is kind of you, Lord Yamada, but in an important respect I am
worse
than nothing—an excess princess. I am not needed for any important dynastic marriages or key alliances. Why else would I have spent eighteen years in Saiku? I have harmed no one I am aware of, save some at court who seemed to believe my very existence was a personal annoyance, but even that was a long time ago.”
“Perhaps there was an indirect target. For example, if someone wished to embarrass the governor of this province,” I said, though I didn’t sound or feel very convincing. “The loss of an imperial princess who was technically under his protection would be very serious.”
“True enough,” she said but then immediately countered. “But not necessarily fatal to his career, as there are few in the Capital who would notice my absence, and the imperial household would have one less expense. Besides, not only do I know what an
inugami
is, I know what is required to create one, Lord Yamada. The result achieved simply would not justify the effort, never mind the damage to one’s soul.”
I had no heart to argue, since I had already come to the same opinion. I could not see why anyone would want Tagako killed, either for political or personal reasons. By everything I knew and understood, the
inugami
should not have been there. Yet the
inugami
was
there, and by its very nature was there for a purpose. The obvious conclusion was that there was something I didn’t know, something I definitely needed to know, if there was any chance of preventing bloodshed.
I regretfully took my leave of the princess and sought out Kenji and Morofusa in the hope that they had fared better than I had.
“You were right, Lord Yamada,” was the first thing Kenji said to me.
“You found it?”
Morofusa nodded. “We did, and not very far from here.”
“I want to see it.”
“I do not,” Kenji said. “I did not want to see it the first time. It turned my stomach, but we needed to know. Morofusa, will you show him?”
“Certainly.”
Morofusa led me from the temple to the northeast corner of the compound where one of the moldering outbuildings remained. The door was barely on its hinges, and it took a little effort for Morofusa to open it. There was enough light from the doorway and the holes in the ceiling to tell that it was empty, save for a small upright box to which two pieces of wood had been attached to make a crossed peak.
“An improvised shrine,” I said.
“So we assumed,” Morofusa confirmed. “I had the privilege of opening it the first time.”
I smiled. “Only because Master Kenji knew what was likely to be inside.”
I went into the darkness and opened the door. Inside sat the severed head of a large dog.
The process of making an
inugami
has two variations. In the first, the dog would be buried in the dirt with only its head uncovered, while bowls of food and water were left just out of reach. When the poor creature was close to dying of thirst and starvation, the creator would offer prayers to the dog’s spirit and then saw its head off. In the second method, rather than being mostly buried, the dog would be tied, again with food and water placed just out of reach. When the animal was completely focused on trying to reach its sustenance, its head would be struck off, thus putting the animal’s predatory focus at the service of the conjurer if the ritual was conducted correctly. The latter method was quicker, so in that respect one might be tempted to call it the kinder of two horrible methods. I was not so tempted. In either case the dog would be dead and its spirit bound, though sooner or later the
inugami
could be expected to turn on its master. Those assassins who were experienced in the creation and use of the creatures would be prepared for that eventuality. Those who simply sought revenge without considering the consequences—or those who became careless—would die in the jaws of their own creation.
What I did next rendered me ritually impure for the next month, but that was of no concern to me. I reached out and pulled the head over so I could examine its cut. It only took a moment to find what I was looking for.
“A very clean cut. Whoever created this monster was an expert swordsman.”
Now I knew what method had been used. This was no slow, agonizing death, but a very quick one. Since the head was located nearby this also told me something I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. “This wasn’t the work of a criminal clan hired for assassination. This creature was created by someone close by for the sole purpose of killing one of us.”
“I hate to say this, but what about Princess Tagako?” Morofusa asked.
“It’s true Princess Tagako knows the technique,” I said. “But she hasn’t a moment to herself and I’m fairly certain she has neither the strength nor skill with a sword that this would require.”
Morofusa simply grinned. “I meant as the intended victim.”
“One would think so, and yet I know of no reason for it— Wait. Who else was present when Tagako-hime held her audience in the great hall? Did you see?”
“I was at the gate when most of them arrived,” he said. “Let me think . . . there was a delegation from all the temples in Nara, of course, the headmen of several villages, Governor Yorinobu—”
I interrupted. “Fujiwara no Yorinobu?”
“No, my lord. Minamoto no Yorinobu. He’s a member of the Montoku Genji and thus has ties of loyalty to the Fujiwara, but he is not one of them. My understanding is that he was a friend and confident of the former Fujiwara chancellor, Lord Michinaga. It was how he got this appointment.”
I knew the name, of course. Lord Michinaga had been chancellor for so long and governed with such authority that many people saw little difference between him and whatever emperor happened to be on the throne at the time. Even now, years after his death, his shadow loomed large. Lord Fujiwara no Yorinobu and his two half-brothers were all sons of Michinaga. Now I understood why Morofusa had placed the governor’s escort in the vanguard.
“Montoku Genji. So that is why you put them in the front, to keep an eye on them. You don’t trust them, do you?”
Morofusa demurred. “Say rather that I am wary of them, as their loyalties are not my own,” he said. “I thought the vanguard most appropriate.”
“That aside, I know they have more than a few enemies. What if someone desired this governor’s death?”
Morofusa shook his head. “Then they missed their opportunity. He had departed before the
inugami
was even discovered. He took the rest of our honor guard escort with him, as was previously arranged.”
That was an interesting coincidence, but I understood, so far as I knew, it really was just that. Even if I assumed that the Montoku Genji were somehow involved as agents of the Fujiwara, I still wouldn’t know why or who the true target was.
“Was there anyone else besides the governor?”
Morofusa frowned. “Representatives of some of the more prominent local families, but none, to my knowledge, have dealings with court politics other than the usual currying of favor. If that were cause for assassination, there would hardly be anyone left.”
“In essence, we are fighting blind,” I said.
“Deaf as well, I think,” Morofusa said cheerfully. “Yet we will do the best we can.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Once Morofusa had finished his report, he left to oversee the preparations for our departure the next morning. I was left alone for a while with my thoughts, but they could find no way out of my ignorance. That the
inugami
had been prepared nearby and was therefore likely not from one of the assassin clans meant someone close to us was taking foolish chances, whatever their intent. Such a one could do great harm to many people and still not achieve their goal, whatever it might be. As for that goal, I felt no closer to answering its riddle than I had in the beginning. For now, as Morofusa as said, we would do our best. I would continue to protect Princess Tagako to the best of my ability, but to do so in a state of ignorance was galling.
I went to look for Kenji, and found him studying a ragged old scroll in the dilapidated lecture hall of the temple.
“Remarkable,” he muttered as I walked up. “Nearly complete copies of the Infinite Meanings Sutra and Great Wisdom Sutra, from the period when Heijo-kyo was the capital. Nearly four hundred years old and likely much older. I could spend years studying these.”
“We don’t have that much time, I’m afraid.”