Akuma no Ran: Chapter III: Death in the Mountains

Yay finally out

South he went, swift as the wind. Such was his speed that one could have been mistaken for thinking he flew. The steed he had stolen gasped and hissed hardly able to maintain its pace yet still Satomine pushed it forward. So preoccupied with what lay behind him and upon it so that he remained utterly distracted from the path before him. He felt more than a little dread when the raven appeared up over the tree tops. Seeing it also made his heart stop so that he once again turned to his mount that he might push it still faster. The fear he felt at the sight of it was first felt days prior when he first escaped from Oyasippuri, at first he had thought nothing of the bird darting towards him with a squawk.

It was as his patience came to an end that pushed him to just as the day pulled itself to its end that the bushi seizing an arrow from the quiver tied to the horse he had stolen from an emishi warrior he had slain shortly after his escape from Oyasippuri. Notching his arrow he was to with no small amount of satisfaction that he heard the thud as the missile found its mark and the raven hit the ground.

It was a bare three hours later that the same bird was to appear once more on the horizon. In the midst of laying down a fur cloak upon the forest ground that he might at last sleep after two sleepless days of endless travel when he heard its wings flapping. Startled by the raven’s sudden appearance, it happened that at first Satomine knew not what to make of it. He at first did not suspect it might be the same winged beast as that which had given chase after him all those hours ago.

Turning away thinking he might at last rest for the first time in what seemed days he was soon once more fully awake and on his feet. Chasing away the bird as best he could whilst ignoring the throbbing that stemmed from his bleeding shoulder where the beast had pierced him.

Cursing and screaming Satomine ducked under the continuous barrage of stabbing pecks that the single-minded crow rained down upon. Desperate for it to cease its attacks the young warrior very nearly drew Kazokiri. It was only with the utmost effort he stopped himself.

“Kuso!” He shrieked ere he drew his Tantō from its scabbard.

Striking at the raven even as he ignored the pang of frustration in his heart and the one which burnt his back from where he had been stabbed by the bird. Furious and eager for revenge he missed thrice more before he swift as a panther caught it by the talon and skewered it.

To his alarm, just as he began to calm his racing heart, the dark feathered beast rope once more its wound forgotten. Backing away Tantō held still in his shaking hand, “How- but why- how-”

“Blathering fool,” Crowed the bird.

Mouth agape Satomine could not believe his ears, “How could a crow speak in Motonaga’s voice?”

The bird did not answer. Squawking it took flight once more just before the young bushi sought to swat at it once more to no avail. It was with a great deal of horror that he realized his Tantō like his arrow had had little effect upon the animal.

*****

This was how he now found himself pushing his horse as hard as he could in the hopes that he might reach Midorinoki soon. Fuelled by desperation he was to throw himself forward ignoring the great Kamuysekitsui Mountains that were to be found to the east of him. Those mountains were large, green and covered by tall [trees] trees with long grasping branches that seemed to interlace together as though the long gnarled fingers of old men and wizened matriarchs. If their leaves were green and young their trunks were certainly emerald however youthful they were not. Thick and long they were with a regal majesty to match any of the line of Kamuyamato-Tennō.

These trees that ran from the base of the highland mountains were known to all those north of the Aogawa River as the Spine of the northern lands. It was to these mountains that the bushi looked to in the hopes of finding safety from the murderous crow.

The mountains for their part were the home of a number of brigands with the mountains in question crossing from east to west in a southerly fashion that served to almost cut the Emishi lands in half.

When he had first crossed through the Kamuysekitsui forests, Satomine had not paid any mind to his surroundings so that he now paid considerably more interest in his surroundings. It was the highlands he hoped might provide him with the perfect hiding place that he might see to binding his shoulder wound and resting even if only for a few hours.

It seemed then to him, to be the perfect place to hide himself away from the monstrous bird. It was when he made for one of the forested pathways that he was to throw himself behind a nearby tree whose base was hidden by foliage. It was not long before the bird appeared once more, on the horizon searching for him and cawing in exasperation when it did not do so at once. Full of frustration it was to begin a closer inspection of the forest, refusing to relent much to the chagrin of Satomine who had hoped that it might carry on towards the next mountain and this gave him a few hours respite.

The arrow as before found its mark with ease, with Satomine hurrying out from his temporary hiding place, to carry on with his journey further along the mountain road, in the hopes that he might once more put several hours distance between the murderous crow and himself. In this he was destined to fail, not due to any particular failing of his own, but more due to the suddenness of the attack that came seemingly from the ether.

Such was his surprise when he felt the stone flung from up above him glance against the back of his skull, he could do little to nothing. His last act before he collapsed against the ground was to attempt to cling all the tighter to his liege-lord’s katana.

*****

When next Satomine opened his eyes it was to find himself facing a rocky wall, whilst behind him there was the sound of a scuffle. The cries of a pain and frustration from his captors that echoed throughout the cave, so that the youth was given over to wondering just who it was that had captured him.

His next realization was that his hands and feet were bound much to his consternation thus he realized that he had been taken hostage.

His head throbbing he attempted to roll onto his other side to no avail. Searching about all around he soon found a rock sharp enough to suit his purposes. It was this stone he was to rely upon to begin cutting at the ropes that bound him into place.

Once more he heard the bellows and cruses of those who had captured him so that he was to realize who or better yet what they were: Emishi. Stricken with panic he was to feel a flash of relief when he felt the ropes begin to give way almost at once. Working swiftly with the rock he was to hold his breath even as he prayed to Hachiman the war-Kami for aid in this hour even as he reminded himself to go to the Kami’s shrine at a later date on his return to Ashimoto to offer thanks should he live.

It also happened that as he worked and toiled with the stone he heard a new voice speak up, one that made him jolt a little and become all the more anxious over his dire situation.

“I say to you both that while you have done well to capture the interloper at present we must determine who will have the first bite!” The new voice uttered with such eagerness that it froze Satomine’s blood more than the sounds of the first two captors had with their strange squabbling and arguing had.

It was with the greatest sense of dread that he continued to pay heed to the Emishi with it being the voice of the first beast that awoke him to the reality that they were aware he was awake. “You there, the false one who would you prefer take the first bite from you? Harukor, Kakulo or myself?”

Stunned to hear himself addressed, the bushi turned his head to glance at them for the first time. Each of them were monstrously dishevelled so that the only word the warrior could think that suited them properly was that of ‘filthy’.

That however was not the thing that caught his eye about them. Their eyes were aglow with a sort of dark glimmer similar to that of Motonaga.

Satomine froze at the sight of such a sinister display, it was with a jerking movement of his right arm that he drew another snigger from them, “Try as you might, you shan’t escape thy bonds!”

Glaring at them with all the ferocity of a newly bound lion, the young bushi bared his teeth in the manner that a tiger might well have done. Disarmed as he was he was prepared to if need be perish in the midst of biting their hands if need be.

The sneering chortle that escaped their lips might well have shamed him under other circumstances but not then, not when in the midst of battle him under other circumstances but not then, not when in the midst of battle.

“What could you do with those blunt fangs? Really now servant of the Takimoto I do think that a worthier weapon, for one such as yourself would have to be a katana.” The first of the three taunted him amused, as their leader waved Kazokiri about though it was still in its scabbard.

Relieved the bushi nonetheless glared daggers through the three, angry to have been caught and angrier still that they should hold Kazokiri.

“You are fortunate I am bound, else I would already have hewed your heads from your shoulders!” Satomine bellowed furiously.

His threats great as they were had little of the desired or otherwise hoped for responses from his captors. It happened that his mother’s pendant that he had carried about his neck since he was a young boy fell out from where it lay hidden behind the folds of his clothing. It was the sight of the small artefact which bore the emblem of a sakura flower that drove the three of them back, hissing and spitting in fear.

Amazed at their reactions, Satomine stared.

The warrior followed their gazes to the necklace he was to with a start realize what it was that had paralyzed his erstwhile tormentors. A plan began to form itself with the same rapidity with which his Master had fallen so that Satomine was to hew apart the last of the ropes that bound him at their feet, and once he had freed his limbs he stood up to his full height.

In a flash his mother’s pendant was in his hand and thrust before him towards his enemies, who shrunk back from him. None of them keen to behold the pendant, or to be anywhere near what was a symbol of Konohanasakuya-hime, the Kami of cherry-blossoms. Her emblem had since as long as he could remember, been one that his mother of distant memory had always clung to. She had passed it onto him as she lay dying, saying to him that the good goddess had always guarded her, and she would do the same for him.

Though he had never prayed to her, being a bushi and having no need for a goddess wholly unrelated to battle and glory, he had clung nevertheless to her symbol. It was a reminder of his mother, something that the good-natured and benevolent Yoshitada had always encouraged him to cling to.

‘One’s mother is something to hold dear, my boy hold tightly to this pendant,’ he had said to him when Satomine was little more than a youth, first brought into the man’s home. He had said it after one of his sons’, Nobuyoshi had tried to take the pendant from the boy, which had resulted in one of the most savage beatings he ever saw a man inflict upon a youth. He had claimed this was done more for Nobuyoshi’s benefit as it would teach him, to respect the possessions of others.

Afterwards, Nobuyoshi had never dared to infringe upon what belonged to the younger boy, even as he had developed a liking for sarcastic remarks and otherwise throwing barbed words at the son of the watch-tower guard. Satomine though fond of most members of the Takimoto, had never felt particularly welcomed by the other youth, who was also a favourite of Yoshitada. The competition for his affections had never left the young warrior all that at ease, so that he had often been excluded in favour of others. And yet, still Yoshitada had persisted in his fondness for him and for privately seeking his counsel or to otherwise assure him of his friendship.

“Now you see, you filthy monsters the might of Konohanasakuya-hime!” Satomine growled at them, thrusting the pendant even closer to them.

The fire they had lit near the entrance of the cave offered some measure of light, for them to see with and it was this light that caught on the necklace. It scintillated all the more than before, with the three who had backed away, fallen and begun to crawl away from him in their great hurry to get away from him.

“Stay back!” The three shrieked and pleaded.

Tears welled up in their glowing eyes, eyes that burnt with darkness and wickedness and were wide as the night-sky. It happened that though they were seized by fright and hardly capable of fighting back, all pity and sympathy was torn from the heart of Satomine.

He hated them such that he felt only the desire to destroy them, in their entirety so that almost leant over them as he pressed forward with the necklace.

“Hold it,” He said to them menacingly, “Hold the necklace my mother carried all the days of her girlhood and passed on to me. Touch it, and be purified of the unholy taint that has overcome you!”

This last pronouncement came from the man’s innermost depths as he thrust the pendant at his enemies, who shrieked as ones’ burnt. It was with more than a little alarm that he was to bear witness to one of the most remarkable sights he was to ever behold as they writhed and swore and when the pendant neared their flesh it burnt them.

It was with more than a little alarm that the youth was to observe this demonstration of impurity on their parts.

Unfortunately for Satomine he drew too near to them, and forgetting himself as he picked up his Tantō he did not foresee that the first of their number might kick out with his leg. Thrown across the small cavern he struck the ground far less hard than he had feared he might. The ground he landed upon was softer than the ground, with Satomine grateful he had not struck a stone with his head.

There was however a great ‘oof’ sound, from beneath him to his alarm, with the youth scrambling to his feet only to stare with a little alarm at the man who stared back up at him. Recognizing the man as one of the monks from Midorinoki, he was surprised to see the bald man beneath him who he knew at once to belong to the monastery from which the monks who had poured out against Yoshinobu.

“Who are you?” the man asked him, stunned to see him standing above him.

“Never you mind that, we must now see to driving these beasts back!” Satomine snapped at him as he thrust forward the emblem as he had before.

The other man studied him only to glance back towards the villains that sought their end, ere he cried out sharply. “Wait! Wait! Do not harm them!”

“Why not?”

“Because we must now exorcise them, it is why I came hither from the monastery,” The monk replied sharply his long nose wrinkling with disgust at the bushi. “Cut me free, and I shall complete the ritual, which you inadvertently began!”

Hesitant, the youth glanced from the cowering trio before him, to the monk behind wherefore he unsheathed his Tantō and leapt over to cut the man free. He did not much like the other fellow, suspicious as he was of him, having seen him in the region of Midorinoki or to be more apt the monastery near it before.

The other man for his part was to regain his feet, throwing himself forward he seized the pendant and called out to the three demonic youths who cowered before him. “Away with thee! Away! You were not brought into this world to be possessed, but rather to take hold of yourselves and to rule the world within and all about you and to make peace with those around you! Away with thee spirits of old!”

He spoke more, in a tongue that the bushi did not understand as he sheathed his Tantō, amazed by the forceful way the other man held himself.

More than twice the age of the youth, he stood tall if a little shorter than the bushi. The older man could not have reached higher than Satomine’s chin. Fierce looking there was a hardened edge to his face, with its high cheekbones and short beard. There was a pride that reflected in his eyes, one that Satomine had observed in those of a great many of his elders, notably those of noble-birth.

The man was humbly dressed though, in simple brown robes and with a single white sash that knotted together his robes, and with his head shaved so that he was bald as was customary. Dark eyed with a narrow gaze that seemed to cut through all those before him, better than any katana possibly could have, he was an impressive figure.

One who determined to press forward against the trio, crying out and shouting his decrees to them in the name of the heavens that they might be liberated, “Away with thou demons! Away with thou, creatures of old rejected by the most ancient of Kami and the most ancient of our ancestors!”

It was at that moment that Satomine beheld, the most remarkable vision he had ever set eyes upon; the deliverance of those who had sought to devour him, from that which had taken hold of them. Alarmed at this sight, he was to stare with open amazement and awe, as what seemed to be a great blackened haze or fog was drawn from the three who shrieked and shouted. Their pain, their horror and their suffering at that moment was unlike anything that he had ever seen in all his years of life.

It was a shock to observe the drawing out of the black haze that seemed to him, to continue to go on to shout and shriek even as they were drawn out from the youths they had possessed. Quite what they were was not quite evident to Satomine.

Later he was to learn that they were no less than the Wights who had given to this particular mountain Kiraiyama, so that the three were not simply man-eaters but among the most vicious of supernatural creatures. It was after he had made certain that the three were resting, the wearied monk turned to his rescuer.

“They rest now, good! Now we must turn towards the last of our duties to banish the shadows from this mountain forevermore.” He declared to the bushi who confused, studied him with wide eyes.

“What? I do not understand, how could we do that? And who are you?” He demanded of the other man, aware of the rudeness of his query.

“Ah how rude of me to forget to introduce myself; I am Brother Shinkei, a monk of the monastery near the village of Midorinoki,” Shinkei replied almost sternly as he turned briskly to lead the way further into the darkness of the caves. “And you are, young Emishi?”

It was with a start that Satomine realized that the other man had not recognized him, disguised as he was and dressed as he was as an Emishi warrior. Reluctantly he introduced himself, doing so without thought, “I am Satomine.”

“Wait, that accent and- were you not the servant and messenger of Yoshinobu the Hero?” Shinkei asked of the youth who bowed his head ever so slightly, his eyes downcast with grief for the loss of his mentor.

The monk studied him for one long moment, before he nodded to himself sorrowfully, “I am sorry for your loss boy, yet relieved that you yet live for you have done much by this time to prove your life a boon to us all. Doing so without have made use of your katana, an impressive feat for a bushi.”

“And who are they to you?” Satomine asked of him, preferring to speak of something other than his grief at the loss of his lord.

Studying him for several seconds, the clergyman gave a slight nod, one that seemed more a concession than an acknowledgement, “That is my sister’s granddaughter and her two nearest friends.”

Studying them, Satomine now found himself amazed to discover the three no longer shadowed and bestial in appearance. To the contrary, they now seemed harmless with one of the men sporting a short-cropped beard, short hair and the simple garments of a farmer; he was long-limbed and even seemed to have a friendly face. The second man was shorter, stouter and yet no less young, though he was without all that much facial hair, and had his hair tied together atop his head in a make-shift wild topknot and bore the marks of a difficult life.

The woman was long-haired, with thick eyebrows like her two compatriots and full lips and the softer figure where the other two were more muscular. She was dressed in the manner of a lady in a blue tattered dress that went down to her heels.

“Do come along!” Shinkei urged him motioning him to follow him.

“Where to?”

“Down into the caverns, I must complete the rite I came hither to this cavern to complete.” Shinkei replied cheerfully if with a hint of apprehension, before he turned to go down into the caves.

“What of them?”

“They ought to be perfectly safe where they are, no beast will come here so long as the shadows rule. Or at least, no ordinary beast will.”

The path that they descended down snaked its way through the mountain, curving first to the left then to the right, and then again to the left. It was dark and full of stony walls that Satomine suspected had not welcomed a man into their midst in several centuries. It was as he moved through the cave, his boots bearing down upon the rocks beneath him and as he followed the monk, he felt grateful for the two of them having their torches. The shadows cast by the torchlight made him shudder.

“The torch reveals their true faces, upon the stone-walls do not pay them any mind, lest they find you easy prey.” Shinkei informed him sharply, with an eye cast thereupon the walls which had so riveted and kept the attention of the frightened youth.

The faces that he saw upon the walls were those of monsters, and ghosts with long-hair, sharp fangs and furious eyes. Their grasping fingers reached out for them, with Satomine turning his gaze away, terrified of them and eager to stay as close as possible to the monk in the hopes that he might protect him.

It was with some measure of fury that he realized just how afraid he had been, and sought to stamp down what terror he did feel. Courage was needed; he reminded himself not childish fear of the dark. “Are you afraid, young bushi?”

“I am not,” Satomine replied proud of how his voice did not so much as tremble.

“Impressive.” There was respect in the old man’s voice, as he guided them along the cavern pathway.

Up and down they went, torches in hand while the bushi’s other hand held tight, to the Takimoto family katana, while the monk carried a piece of white linen, gathered together and tied together in a thick knot. Carrying along, with great care he was to travel with a great many glances all around them, the deeper they went into the mountain.

The deeper inner sanctums of that place, were wide, and large enough to contain several castles with the path running straight through the hundred meter wide and large caverns that they crossed through at various times. It was with more than a little amazement that the bushi was to study these wide areas with keen interest.

“There is a pond somewhere down below,” Shinkei informed him as they crossed along one area, which was bathed in a great deal more darkness than the previous ones. It appeared as though the path they walked loomed over a cliff on either side, though Satomine was hardly certain, and could hardly see past the immediate area around the two of them.

“This darkness, is hardly natural.” He remarked to the other man, nervous and glancing about once more.

“In this you are quite correct, since the Kami was removed from her box shadows have come to occupy this place leaving this place a shadow of what it once was.” Shinkei remarked to him, only to add somewhat melancholically, “I once played here as a boy, though that was when the beast-folk occupied many of these caverns.”

“Beast-folk?”

“Yes-oh yes I had forgotten how they are but myths or legends to those of you in the south, up in the north there was once a great many in caverns such as these. Most of them were more reptilian than those on Kemoshima,” Shinkei explained to him a little sorrowfully.

“It is not that they are myths, but rather that their habitation here is, many of us think them to be bound to their homeland that is to say the isle of Kemoshima,” Satomine explained nervously whereupon the monk cast once more, a sidelong glance in his direction.

“That is interesting, I did not know that,” Shinkei replied to him quietly, “I have never been south and am Emishi, just as you are.”

“You must be mistaken,” Satomine replied hurriedly, discomfited by the direction their conversation had taken. “I am no Emishi but one of the Yamatai people to the south, I am a bushi as you noted earlier sworn to the service of House Takimoto.”

Shinkei studied him quietly, a hint of comprehension glittered in his eyes as he at last nodded his head. Content to leave the matter alone, he turned to leave with the youth eager to leave the cavern, he said to him, “We must hurry if we wish to put all to rest, and ensure that these demonic spirits do not continue to haunt this place and my great-niece.”

“How is it that the kami came to be torn from this shrine?” Satomine asked curiously, motioning to the path ahead of them.

“I am not certain, I think one of the three came to search for gold or something, only for the other two to trail after him, I suspect it was Katsumi. My great-niece, Megumi has always been rather too fond of him in my view.”

The disapproval in the monk’s voice made the youth cease with his questions. He felt little in the way of comfort regarding the topic he had inadvertently stumbled upon. It was thus with a great deal of discomfort that he was with a great deal of relief notice the end of the road they were upon.

“There ahead of us, lies what you seek, if I am not mistaken monk,” Satomine said to him, with more than a little joy in his voice.

“Yes indeed, I do believe you are correct.” Shinkei agreed as they advanced nearer to what lay at the end of the road after an hour’s walk.

It was after he had unravelled the small bit of cloth wrapped together, stolen from it a small statuette carved in the likeness of a figure Satomine knew all too well, and placed it within the box. It was only after he had done so with a great deal of care that Shinkei was to light a stick of incense he drew from the same container he had kept the Kami within. Once he had done this, and placed the incense stick inside also, he was to close the box.

“Let us pray now,” Shinkei told him at which time Satomine did as bidden.

The statue he had noticed looked remarkably like his mother’s favourite Kami. It was thus with this in mind that he pressed his hands together, bowed his head and waited whilst Shinkei recited his strange chant.

This chant was one that he had heard but a number of times and had not expected to hear, on the northern campaign. Yoshinobu could be kind and even valorous but religious piety was not always his greatest of virtues.

When he had first reciting the ancient words that seemed to filter past Satomine’s consciousness, and disappear into the night, he found the monk studying him. There was an air of curiosity and approval in his eyes, one that made the youth flush scarlet with pleasure and embarrassment.

“There now, the Kami has been returned to his resting place, the shades banished and peace restored to this mountain.” Shinkei declared with no small amount of satisfaction as he sighed happily, a smile gracing his bearded lips.

It was then that they heard the cries, of the youths that they had rescued a short time ago. The screams echoed down through the caverns, so that the two men jumped some fifty feet in the air. Both of them had they leapt higher might well have split their skulls upon the low cavern ceiling, if this were not a proverbial leap.

Both were filled with such horror and fear that they knew then that the monstrous spirits they had locked away within the box of the small statue of the Kami, Konohanasakuya-hime, was the least of their concerns.