Akuma no Ran Chapter IV: Flight from the Northern Shadow

Ch 5 to come out next month

“What in the name of the Sun-Goddess?” Shinkei asked confused, his hands still upon the box of the Kami that the trio had opened unwisely some months ago.

“It sounds like the three you rescued,” Satomine shouted wherefore he turned and began to lead the way back up the darkened path that led thither to the entrance of the cave.

It was a long road back, one that they had undertaken over the course of nigh on an hour and that they now sought to undertake in almost a tenth of that time. It was to be with a great deal of satisfaction that the youth noticed that the monk who raced along just behind him, was to cross the distance from where the Kami’s box was to be found, to the mouth almost as quickly as he did.

Both were however surprised to find a raven pecking and slashing and stabbing at the trio with its beak, which may as well have been made of iron, given the amount of pain and grief it was doling out. The trio sought to back away, their arms bleeding and their shrieks terrible to behold as they sought to repel it, to no avail.

“No! No! Please stop!” One of the children shouted, frightened by the raven that swept down upon them, from outside, pecking and tearing at them.

Shinkei the monk was to throw himself at the bird, in an attempt to rescue them yet was fought off, by it with his arms torn and slashed at by the ferocious animal.

Springing into action himself, tantō held high fury consuming his heart without fear for himself the bushi was to stab and slash at the raven with all the rage of one who has lost all. Before he had feared the beast, and now he quite forgot himself at the sight of the wickedness it had wrought, wounding and tearing at the children ere it set eyes upon Satomine.

Tearing at its wings, it was only with its cries of pain and anger that he felt some measure of satisfaction, with it being Akemi who cried out to him. “The fire! The fire! Throw him into the fire!”

It took a great deal of effort, yet with one of the wooden spears sharpened to a point that the youths had fashioned for the killing of their victims or in defence of themselves that he succeeded. Stabbing the bird with the aforementioned spear, Satomine was to cast the bird into the flames where it squawked and shrieked a terrible vengeance upon him.

“Burn me away if you like, however my vengeance shall follow you as a cloud of locusts will a hearty harvest, you filthy descendant of Pimiko!” the raven that was a mouth-piece of Motonaga shouted from deep within the flames, chilling the blood of Satomine’s new friends.

Each of them stared into the flames, as the bird struggled to burst free, to no avail. When it revived, it was once more burnt away, just as it was the third time after it was to pass away. At last Motonaga gave up on his servant and it at last with a great squawk passed on to Yomi.

It was with no small amount of relief that the youths that surrounded him sighed, and sagged against the side of the cavern wall. Satomine for his part, remained as grim and stoic as ever, his eyes staying upon the flames that to him seemed darkened as though the light of the flames had been doused.

*****

It was then that they set out, all five of them for the southern road. The three local youths, whom had by now had the pleasure of a proper bath, could not very well return to their home-village. Each of them having committed terrible crimes when under possession, so that many in the locality regarded them with thinly veiled suspicious at best, and hatred at worst. It happened though that Shinkei would not leave them alone, since one of them was his great-niece so that he would not return to the monastery himself.

The fact that the Abbot had chosen to engage in violence, and had forsaken Yoshinobu was something of a shock to him. As he had been absent at the time of the battle, and was thus ignorant of what had transpired. “Such folly, however I had heard something of this before, and therefore will not return to the monastery. Once one has chosen the path of evil, one cannot easily deviate from it, and I suspect that this monster, this akuma, Motonaga will be the end of the only home I have had since I was given into its care by my parents.”

It was a statement that resonated a great deal with the young man, who pondered them. It was with a great deal of thought that he remarked to his companion, “It might therefore be said that the finest cure for evil then, is the blade.”

“I would not go so far as that, as blood begets blood and tragedies are wrought on the shedding of the blood of a great many.” The old monk answered quietly, a hint of sorrow in his voice, “After all, we need only look to the ancient past for proof of this fact.”

“Mayhap, though I would warn you that to do nothing whilst evil rules over the land there is only one recourse,” Satomine replied sharply of the opinion that on this point there could be no compromise.

It looked as though Shinkei had a different view. He however preferred not to speak out then, sceptical as he was to the efficacy of violence to solve the world’s ills, he could not bring himself to agree with the youth.

Satomine while mindful of his perspective, knew Motonaga to be different from any other menace that had ever been spawned before. It was why he was to stop his horse and ask of him, “If I had done nothing to rescue you and yours from the raven, would they still live? Certainly, the blade should be the last resort as my tonou once said, but it is at times the only resort if one wishes to protect one’s child, one’s family, one’s dog, or one’s people.”

Shinkei gave his words some thought, it was evident that he still disagreed if his expression was anything to go by. It happened though that it was one of the trio, Akito (for by this time the bushi had been introduced to all three of them) who spoke up remarking to the monk, “He is right, Brother Shinkei, we in the north know better than anyone else what it means to fight to survive. Life hereon the Marches has always been a battle to survive, so that we cannot say that life would be the same, peace possible if it were not for the bushi.”

Shinkei was even more troubled, as he trailed along with the bushi wishing earnestly to conjure forth an argument against the young man’s argument. He might well have done so were it not for the thought that perhaps it might be best to let the matter lie.

This proved the better recourse as Satomine was not to press the matter. He quite liked Shinkei despite himself, and though not keen to lower his guard around the monk, he was not in any great hurry to make an enemy of him.

“I suppose everything has its place, I really will have to pray for wisdom regarding your views Satomine, as you do not strike me as an unwise or impious fellow.” Shinkei said heavily, so much so that Satomine at once felt guilty for having been so disagreeable.

It was because of this incident that he put in a greater effort towards being more pleasant, and a good deal more solicitous towards the monk. He felt he owed him not only this sort of respect, but also compassion.

*****

Their journey southwards was one that they made at a hurried pace, so that Harukor and Akito complained continuously. It was to be Shinkei though who was to seek to remind them of the dangers that lurked about everywhere, most especially behind them. Once he heard the name of Motonaga, after Satomine recounted his tale to him, he was to press the small group of travellers all the harder south.

“Motonaga is a monster spawned from Orochi! The youngest of his terrible sons’, I daresay that there has never been a more urgent time in our lives than this,” Shinkei cried out worriedly as he pressed his horse forward. The old man had taken his horse along with three others from the monastery stables, having hoped to ride slightly south to the abbey of Midorinoki, yet now he refused to go there, though his rescuer had shown himself supportive of this notion. “We shan’t stay there, it will not be safe when the armies of evil advance south. Though I do not fear for myself, I have these three youngsters and my niece to think of.”

Moved by his courage and goodness, the bushi was to bow his head as they travelled through the fields that stretched ever southwards past the mountains to the south of Midorinoki.

The plains were sun-kissed and appeared to redden ever so slightly, and as the season was late there were a great many trees and branches here and there that had begun to yellow and become orange or red naturally. Autumn had seeped into the land, beginning its short-lived rule over the north of Zipangu.

What was more was that the suns’ had begun to rise, with each of the wanderers grateful to have put the northern highlands behind them along with the forested area near Midorinoki.

There was truly a sense, as they studied the vast kilometres that stretched out ahead of them that they had put the worst behind them. This was a natural feeling for his companions to feel, with Satomine simply grateful to soon put the corpse, head and katana of his liege to rest.

Each of them was filled with such admiration for those vast plains, bathed in the orange light of the morning suns’. Such was their awe towards it that none spoke for several long minutes, with Brother Shinkei in particular was moved to tears. Akito and Harukor said nothing, and were to encourage their horses forward even as Akemi who rode with Satomine, if at her own insistence and his previously indifferent acquiescence.

“Is it like this where you were born?” Akemi asked of Satomine, her voice warm and full of curiosity.

He hesitated with his answer. He had no great desire to answer as the question left him feeling awkward. How could he tell her that he was born on a military campaign north, just to the south of these very fields, in the midlands of Mittsu province?

What was worse in his view, was how the query made him think of his father, made him miss him. It was a sentiment he had long ago attempted to suppress, on account of how the man had been disgraced having left the battle-field by ship. The man had saved Yoshinobu-dono the year before and in those battles, much to the gratitude of the warlord however, these valorous acts had been followed by one great and cowardly one. To have taken to the seas’ whilst his liege fought for his life was disgraceful.

He simply shrugged his shoulders with it being Shinkei who was to mutter, “These fields are important in our history, for it was here where Motonaga’s army was put to flight and defeated by Pimiko-dono’s great army. Her forces were led by her brother the legendary Wakakiniirihiko who was said to be the finest warrior of the age.”

Akito became excited at the mention of the battle in question, “Ah yes, the great hero Wakakiniirihiko! We always pretended to be him when children, the finest of the heroes of that age, do you remember his song, Shinkei?”

“Never you mind music, now is hardly the time to be caught singing,” Satomine growled just as the other youth prepared himself to sing the song of the ancient hero.

“It is only a song, there can be no harm in singing a few verses,” Akemi retorted irritably.

“She is right, it is a popular song in these parts,” Harukor agreed at once.

“That may well be, however we do not know how close the enemy is, and the village of Midorinoki is not far to the north-west, therefore keep quiet!” Satomine hissed at his companions, to their irritation.

“Surely, if we are cautious all will be well,” Harukor insisted in an argumentative voice.

“It might be best to keep silent,” Akito advised having taken notice of the consternation in the bushi’s voice.

“Bah, do not be so fretful,” the other youth sneered.

“Akito, you would do well to learn from Satomine, he has a great deal more wisdom in such matters than any of us,” Akemi advised a hint of disapproval.

As it was the girl who had spoken, Akito could hardly argue. He looked on the bushi then with displeasure, even as the servant of the house of Takimoto along with Shinkei strained their ears.

Hardly paying any of them any mind Satomine for his part, was to listen for quite some time. All that the trio they had rescued was the rustling of the wind, the cawing of some bird in the distance and the sound of the gulls in the distance.

It was strange, however Satomine told himself, he had the sense that there was some sound buried all the others. Yet quite what it was, he was not certain.

It was then that Akito began to sing, if ever so softly. The song, the cadence of his voice proved irresistible to the likes of Harukor and Akemi, so that they sang together and for a moment there was a moment of perfect stillness. Their voices melded perfectly with the local hills, wind and rolling green plains.

Any other man might well have enjoyed that moment, might well have allowed himself a temporary respite from his duties. Yet it did not reassure Satomine. The song and their combined voices did not offer him reassurance but quite the opposite; it only worsened his apprehension regarding the local area.

“Blossoms flower and fall,

Men ride and dally,

Women dance, short and tall,

They weep thrice daily

For those who in north-plains beyond the pall,

Didst behind Wakakiniirihiko rally,

Six thousand times he struck in the green hall

Men call the north-plains, and six thousand he fatally

Struck dead, thereupon the bloodied fields,

Just the moon arose in the east,

Hope gave little in the way of yields,

When the demon didst feast

And gorge as his forebear Orochi didst, and as leeches

Might, such was his wicked wroth, the whole east

Of the world he plunges

Into shadow, shadows only he who rallied beast

And men could press back, and didst hunt,

Such was the glory of Wakakiniirihiko, Prince of the East,

Such his glory, his light that he didst blunt,

The Dark King’s spread, this though he was the least

Of five sons, Wakakiniirihiko the prince of the blossom,

Suns-kissed and glorious, who in after-days

Beloved by the blossom-kami, didst feast under the blossom

Tree, and raise his cup in distant halls, and host feasts

There, for away whither to the sun-lady’s bosom

He went, blade glimmering armour rent by the fiends,

Lo! How men and beasts still weep, as does she of the blossom,

Lo! How blossoms flower and fall,

Blossoms flower and fall,

Just as they always shall!”