“You asked to see me, elder?”
The elder Ryosen turned from the window, his sallow features filled with shadows from the candle-light and making him look much older than his forty or so winters. He did his best to smile.
“Yes, Yamaguchi-san.” He slid the window covering shut and gestured toward the table that had been prepared with sake and cups in the middle of the room. “Please, join me.”
Jiro cracked a smile. “Isn’t wine one of the great enemies of holy men, elder?”
“Wine is forbidden to those who seek the way,” agreed the elder solemnly as they both sat down on the floor around the table. “However, sometimes one must leave the path of righteousness and take a break for the good of the spirit.”
Art by Brushmen
“Are you saying monks are only human?”
“All monks are men, and all men have past lives.” Said the elder, pouring out two wooden bowls of wine.
“Well then,” said Jiro cheerfully, raising his bowl in a toast. “Here’s to the past. Kampai!”
The elder echoed his sentiment and both men downed their bowls in a single swallow. Then as the elder refilled them, he finally allowed himself a smile.
“It is good to see you, Yamaguchi. I’m sorry I couldn’t greet you more warmly when you first arrived, but discussion of past lives is discouraged here and I need to set an example.”
Jiro shook his head. “No, I was wrong to bring it up. I should have remembered that and let you approach me first. Forgive me.”
Ryosen handed him a bowl. “There is nothing to forgive, my friend. How is your life in these troubled times?”
Jiro responded by telling him the state of the Inuyama clan and the events that had lead up to Jiro and Masato’s mission to the Kurokawa lands. Ryosen listened with a frown, and nodded sadly. “I may not have been a part of the clan for some time, but I still have a place in my heart for it. I am sorry to hear of these misfortunes.”
“Good and bad. Good and bad. It’s the way of the world,” said Jiro philosophically, looking at his old friend. “But if you can help us get across to the other side, you could save a lot of lives, Fukui-san.”
The elder looked away, refusing to meet his old comrade’s gaze. “We will see the state of the bridge in the morning.” He said with some anxiety. “A crossing at night is too dangerous.”
Jiro watched him for a time, then shrugged. “I didn’t say it had to be tonight. Besides, you have your responsibilities to think of- you are the elder of the temple after all.”
That brought an ironic smile to Ryosen’s face and he downed his wine. “Yes, elder of the temple.” Then he looked at Jiro- “I envy you, Yamaguchi. You have both your duty and your freedom, it seems I only have duty.”
Jiro raised an eyebrow.
“Yes,” the elder nodded. “I wanted to run this temple, and now that I do I can see what a task it is. I am responsible for keeping nearly sixty men fed and clothed in this crumbling old place. They seek peace while I seek money and donations. They seek enlightenment, while I seek survival.” He shook his head. “I feel like a firefly who cannot escape a forest of spiders.”
“What of the abbot, Kiyomizu?” Jiro asked. “Won’t he return soon and relieve you of this burden?”
That got another ironic smile. “Kiyomizu will be gone a long time, and I must sit in his cold place until he returns- if he returns.”
“You always were one to get yourself into tight spots,” Jiro said, trying to lighten the mood. “Remember when we were fighting in Taniguchi and you got into it with some of Lord Kaze’s men?”
Ryosen nodded. “They accused me of cheating at dice, and I realized the rest of you had gone to another inn. It was a miracle I got out of that one.”
Jiro smirked. “So tell me the truth- did you really fight your way out?”
“Of course not!” Ryosen finally laughed. “I started a fight with a gangster and crawled out on my hands and knees while everyone went at it around me!”
The two old soldiers talked long into the night.
* * *
The hit woke Masato up.
He’d been struck across the face before, but this really hurt, and he glared at the boy on the blanket next to him whose flying hand had done the deed. But, despite the glaring, Taro’s snoring was his only response, and Masato quickly gave up his thoughts of payback- this kid was possibly his future lord, after all.
Sitting up, he looked around in the moonlight that filtered through the oiled paper windows.
Jiro was on the far side of the room, closest to the door, and sound asleep. He’d come back sometime earlier, reeking of alcohol and humming a tune Masato didn’t know. Masato did wonder where he’d found alcohol in the temple, but decided it was better not to ask and had rolled over and gone back to sleep.
This time, he knew he wouldn’t be able to return to sleep so easily, and made his way quietly to the door while giving Jiro a large berth. The last thing he needed was to startle awake a drunk samurai who slept with his sword close at hand. Slipping on his sandals in the alcove, he slid open the door and closed it quietly behind him.
Now the question was which was to go?
It had perhaps been an oversight not to ask where the monks made water when they’d been shown to their rooms, and now Masato was faced with the prospect of wandering around in a strange and poorly lit temple in the middle of the night.
Not sure which way led out, he decided his best choice was to go left and see where it took him. Sure enough, once he’d gone a short distance he found another pair of corridors, and he decided to go left again in hopes that he’d be able to find his way back by just going right a few times.
It was a reasonable strategy, and luckily for him the third left led him outside into one of the temple courtyards. Everything outside seemed to shine in the moonlight- all the surfaces slick and wet with the mist from the waterfall.
Seeing a nearby tree at the wall’s edge, Masato wandered over to it and started to do his business. He wondered if it was bad luck to pee in a temple, but then reasoned since the monks must themselves urinate it should be okay. Unless they studied a way to keep their pee inside- he hadn’t really considered that. They were supposed to know special tricks with their bodies, and it might explain why they seemed so crotchety all the time when they talked to him…
Just as he was finishing up, Masato heard a soft but deep gonging noise from somewhere near the temple entrance. Curious, he pulled up his trousers and began to wander in that direction.
The temple had several courtyards, each one terraced at a different level than the others. Masato guessed he was in a middle one, and his suspicions were confirmed as he entered a doorway to find himself standing on a balcony looking down on the main courtyard below.
Far to the other side of the open grounds, he could see torches being carried to the main doors of the temple, and there was a long low groaning sound as the doors began to swing open.
Masato watched as what seemed like a small army of black armoured samurai poured through the gates and into the temple, and at their lead rode a man he had last seen unconscious by his master’s hand.
The Kurokawa had found them!
* * * * * * * * * Want to put a little something in my tip jar out of appreciation? Click here and donate!