The Old Men of Omi

Chapter Fifteen

The next day broke dark and wet. A strong wind from the lake drove sheets of rain across Otsu, and it was impossible to see the temple on Hiei. The mountain range crouched like a black monster above Otsu.

Akitada ate his rice gruel and then dressed in his second best robe. No point in ruining his best one in this rain. Then he and Saburo climbed into the saddle, covered with straw rain coats, shoe covers, and wide hats. Kosehira had ordered a contingent of the provincial guard for their retinue. They wore their ordinary armor and tried to put on stern faces.

While the straw raincoat protected Akitada from the worst of the wind, it was a nuisance keeping his floppy hat on. Eventually he removed it and rode bareheaded.

Anger and worry made him keep up a good pace, and they reached the main gate of the temple by midmorning. The rain had changed into a fine, watery spray that obscured details as if veils had been drawn across the entire mountain. All around them, this wet fog shrouded trees, roofs, and galleries. Except for one solitary monk they had passed on the road, they were the only visitors. This, too, made the temple grounds feel like another world, some place not altogether human and somehow threatening to trespassers.

Akitada bit his lip. Nonsense, he thought. It was threatening enough without becoming supernatural. The monks had snatched Tora who, more than likely, had trespassed where he was not wanted.

Two young monks detached themselves from the shelter of the great gate and ran toward them.

“Welcome to Enryaku-ji!” they chorused. One carried an oiled paper umbrella which he now opened. Smiling up at Akitada, he said, “Allow me to guide you, sir. Soncho here will take your horse and show your people the way.”

Akitada looked down at him. “I’m Sugawara Akitada and have come to speak to the Grand Abbot later. At the moment, I wish to inspect your stables.”

They looked at each other in consternation. “The stables?” asked the first monk after a moment. “Your lordship wishes to see the stables?”

“You heard me,” Akitada snapped. “Lead the way.”

They both came with them to a lesser gate and another, smaller, compound. There were service buildings here: kitchens, stables, and overnight accommodations for pilgrims. At the stables, Akitada and Saburo dismounted and went inside. The stables were large but in this weather, there were few horses stabled. Tora’s mount was not among them. The monks had followed and were now in conversation with some stable hands.

Looking nervous, Saburo said in a low voice, “They moved it. I must have attracted their notice when I asked questions about it.”

“You’re safe with me,” Akitada said. “They can’t do anything to you. But stay with the others and wait.”

He was very angry, and next spoke brusquely to the monk who had greeted him. “I’ve seen what I came to see. Now take me to Gyomei.”

The monk was apologetic “I regret, but the Seal of the Law is not available. Will the Master of the Law do?”

With an effort, Akitada recalled his visitor at the tribunal. “Prior Kanshin? Yes. I’ll speak to him. My men will wait here.”

He was taken into the temple grounds. The place was eerie in its emptiness. The fog hung over the entire compound, obscuring the world and muffling sounds except for their steps in the gravel and the dripping of rainwater from the eaves. Akitada shuddered. He doubted he would be able to find his way out of this strange place. Suddenly he wished he had taken his retinue along. Or at least Saburo.

They reached a small hall that seemed to back against the forest behind it. The monk walked up the steps to a veranda and opened a door, standing aside for Akitada to enter. Akitada stepped into a plain room with a dais along one wall and a few cushions placed along its length. Behind him the door closed.

He swung around and saw that he was alone. The irrational thought that they had taken him prisoner also crossed his mind. He went back and tried the door. It opened onto the foggy world outside. He closed it again, feeling foolish.

“Master of the Law, Seal of the Law,” he muttered under his breath. “Silly titles. We’d all be better off if Buddha had never come to our islands.”

But that, too, was silly. He started pacing. Where was Tora? How dare they take him and steal his horse? He’d see about that.

The skirt of his silk robe slapped against his legs and he became aware that it was soaked. In fact, his collar was wet also, as was his hair. So much for straw raincoats and hats. He dabbed at his head and remembered the court hat in his sleeve. Tying it back on without a mirror irritated him further.

Why this long wait? His rank and current position demanded a good deal more respect than this. How long should he wait before sending for the men of the provincial guard and making a search of the monastery for the elusive Gyomei?

Eventually, he went to the dais and perched on its edge. His thought went to Kosehira who must have had a most frustrating administration, given Enryaku-ji and Onjo-ji encroached on his territory. From Kosehira, his thoughts went to his daughter. He found he could not be angry at Yukiko. Perhaps his anger had been mostly with himself for desiring her. He had simply transferred it, blaming her bad manners for his own discomfiture. Why could he not treat her like the charming child she was, a lovable child, to be sure, but not beddable.

But again he felt the warmth of desire rise to his face and was ashamed.

Into this mood walked an extraordinary character. A door behind him had opened noiselessly, and Akitada became aware of the presence only from a slight wheezing sound. He started up and turned.

A short and slender old monk in a plain, somewhat ratty, black robe had shuffled in and stopped a few feet away. He was bent with age, but bright black eyes peered up at Akitada.

Having been caught in dubious and worldly fantasies, Akitada was not at his best. “Umm,” he said,” who are you?”

The old monk smiled. “Lord Sugawara? I’m Gyomei. Forgive the long wait. I was in my hermitage up the mountain a ways, and at my age the journey down was slow. Terrible weather we’re having.”

Akitada now saw that the hem of Gyomei’s robe was wetter and muddier than his own and that his bare feet in sandals were mud-caked. Something about this man made him bow quite deeply.

“Your Reverence? Forgive me. I did not intend to put you to so much hardship.”

Gyomei came closer. He smiled and pointed to the dais. “It was nothing. Please be seated.”

They sat side by side, and Akitada searched for a way to say what he was there for. Gyomei waited, still smiling at him.

Akitada cleared his throat and plunged. “Your Reverence must be aware of our work trying to clear up the misunderstandings between Enryaku-ji and Onjo-ji?”

Gyomei smiled and nodded.

“Umm, we are making progress, but that is not why I came today.”

Again the abbot nodded.

“I plan to give myself the pleasure to visit your beautiful temple another time when the weather is better.” He added a small chuckle and knew he was making a terrible job of this. What was it about this man that put him so ill at ease?

Gyomei finally took pity on his floundering. “One of the monks said it is about a missing horse, but I must have misunderstood.”

“A horse? No. Or rather the horse does seem to have disappeared also. No, Tora, my senior retainer, came here two days ago and hasn’t returned.”

Gyomei raised bushy white eyebrows. “You must be fond of him to have come looking for him in person.”

Akitada was becoming angry again. He said coldly, “I look after all of my people, but Tora has been with me longest. In any case, his horse was seen in your stables, and this means Tora never left. I’d like him turned over to me.”

Gyomei looked at him for a long time. Then he nodded. “If he is here or in any of our branch temples, he will be returned to you. I know nothing of this. Allow me!” The abbot rose and padded to the door he had come through. Putting his head out, he said something in a low voice. There was an answer, and he said something else.

Then he returned to Akitada and sat back down. “There will be some refreshments. I apologize for your reception.”

Akitada, irritated and worried again, said, “No matter. I didn’t come to eat.”

Silence fell.

Gyomei produced a rosary and started to pray silently.

When the door opened again, two young monks entered, one bearing a stack of towels, and the other a tray with flasks, cups, and bowls.

Gyomei handed Akitada a towel and took one himself. He carefully dried his shaven head and face and dabbed at his robe. “Dreadful weather,” he said again, then smiled. “I must make an effort to meditate on accepting things the way they are.”

Akitada made a perfunctory job of drying his head. There was not much he could do, even after removing his hat again. His hair was carefully tied into a neat top knot. The advantages of shaving it off became apparent, and the thought brought back his irritation. “Have you told your people to get Tora?”

Gyomei carefully folded his towel and returned it to the waiting monk. “I have. They don’t seem to know anything. May I ask what brought him here?”

“He was looking for a peasant arrested by your sohei. From what he told me, the peasant was a free man. They also raped the man’s wife.”

Gyomei stared at him. “Our sohei did this? There must be some mistake.”

“No mistake. Tora is a very careful observer and doesn’t make such accusations lightly.”

“But perhaps the soldiers belonged to another temple?”

“No. And your Reverence forgets that Tora’s horse was here until recently, proving that he came to Enryaku-ji and never left. I must insist that you release him immediately. After that we can discuss the situation of the peasant.”

Another silence fell while Gyomei seemed to ponder this. After a while he said, “This is a very large mountain and we have many monks.”

Akitada said nothing. He waited stonily and without touching the food and drink.

With a sigh, Gyomei rose again. Before he could give new orders, the door opened and Kanshin, the prior, hurried in accompanied by the same two senior monks who had called upon Akitada. They spoke briefly and softly with the abbot, then all of them came to Akitada.

Kanshin and his companions put their hands together and inclined their heads. Akitada did not return the greeting or get to his feet.

“We regret deeply,” said Kanshin, “that your retainer seems to have become lost on our mountain. “We will immediately send out searchers and pray that nothing has happened to him.”

An icy fear gripped Akitada at those words. So this was the way they meant to play their game? Whatever they had done to Tora would be explained by a fall off a cliff. And that meant that their victim would not be able to deny it. Akitada would sit here, waiting, until they thought the time right to produce the mangled body.

He jumped to his feet. “I insist on joining the search party. And we’d better start wherever your sohei are quartered.”

Kanshin recoiled a foot or so and turned a panic-stricken face to the abbot. Gyomei said, “The weather is really dreadful, Sugawara. Why not let my monks do the job? They are young and have given up the pleasures of life.”

This angered Akitada further. How dare this monk suggest he was nothing but a pampered nobleman who did not like to get his head wet. He said harshly, “You can have little notion to what length I’ll go to get my retainer back alive.” He hoped his tone carried the threat that was implied. To his satisfaction, Gyomei blinked. He suddenly looked uneasy.

Rising to his feet, he said, “We shall do as you ask. Please be careful. The path up the mountain is steep and treacherous in places, especially in the rain. I still think you must be wrong. None of our people would dare capture a retainer of one of the noble guests of our esteemed governor. Prior Kanshin will organize the search. If you will forgive me, I must return to my solitude now.”

Kanshin was nothing if not efficient. Very quickly, a group of capable-looking monks had gathered. Two other senior monks joined Kanshin, and they started their journey up the mountain. Akitada had been supplied with another straw coat and hat but refused the straw boots as too unreliable for mountain climbing. He had rarely undertaken a more unpleasant journey.

The wet mists still hung over the mountain and obscured the path ahead where trees and rock outcroppings appeared as if seen through layers of gray gauze, producing a sensation of traveling into a huge spider web.

Or into nothingness, a more appropriate concept for a Buddhist institution-which did little to reassure Akitada of a successful outcome to this journey into the unknown.

When they finally reached the secluded valley and the small compound which had been assigned to Enryaku-ji’s sohei, Akitada was struck by two things. Clearly the temple and monastery proper liked to keep their distance from the warrior monks, and their existence was treated in an ominously secretive fashion.

He strode ahead to join Kanshin, noting with satisfaction that the prior looked as sodden as Akitada felt. “I take it this place is reserved for sohei? How many do you keep?”

Kanshin hesitated. Then he said, “The precise number escapes me. We also offer temporary residence to traveling warriors here. And a few young people come for training.”

Akitada compressed his lips. This answer covered any number of possibilities. The temple might well be gathering an army, bringing in outsiders to augment the ranks of its people. Given the fact that the mountain temple could be defended far more easily than Onjo-ji in the city below, this was troubling.

One of the monks had gone ahead to announce them, and the gates opened. They filed in, a long line of wet monks with a bedraggled court noble in their midst.

The courtyard and the buildings were not very different from other temple complexes, but the occupants here wore armor or ordinary clothes. Several wore the white cowls draped over their heads and lower part of their faces. A few were bare-headed, and of these some had shaved their heads, while others had long hair and beards. Clearly, these so-called monks had adopted the spiritual path only in so far as it suited them.

More disturbing was the fact that quite a few looked like thugs and hired killers.

However, since their party was led by senior monks of Enriyaku-ji, they were received readily enough, and the senior monks and Akitada were led to one of the halls where an older warrior received them. Akitada took him for the commandant. He had shaved his head and wore better armor than the ones Akitada had seen outside.

Prior Kanshin made the introductions and explained their errand.

The commandant-his name was Seison- eyed Akitada with interest. He seemed to weigh his options, but then said readily enough, “It is true that we found a trespasser two nights ago. Since he refused to identify himself or his purpose, we have kept him locked up until such a time when we can ascertain those things.” He gave Akitada a small smile. “We are by way of being the guardians of the temple. It seemed safest to make certain the man had no ill intentions before freeing him. Of course, he may not be the man you are seeking.”

“That’s easily ascertained,” Akitada said, feeling somewhat relieved. “Bring him here.”

The commandant gave an order, and after a short wait, two heavily-armed men brought in a chained Tora. He had added a bloodied lip to the black eye which had turned an ugly yellowish purple.

The expression on his face when he saw the wet and mud-stained Akitada was relief mixed with embarrassment. His mouth opened and closed, and he hung his head, muttering, “Sorry, sir.” His guards grinned.

“He’s a tough one, General,” one of them said. “Tried everything to escape.”

Tora glared at him, then lowered his eyes to the man’s arm. It was bare, and Akitada saw the tattoo of a circle inside a triangle. He looked at Tora and saw him nod. “Is that the man you saw, Tora?”

“Yes, sir.”

With an angry frown, Akitada turned to the prior. “Yes, this is Lieutenant Sashima. Release him immediately.”

Kanshin gestured, and Tora’s guards reluctantly began to undo the chains. Tora rubbed his wrists and said, “Thank you, sir. These men fell upon me two days ago as I was enjoying a walk near the temple. I had no way of getting a message to you.”

The prior raised a hand. “You did not identify yourself. If you had, this would not have happened. Your behavior, we were told, was suspicious, and you were found in a restricted area after dark.”

“I got lost. And it wasn’t quite dark yet.” Tora glowered. “As for why I didn’t identify myself, your people jumped me. I took them for a gang of highway robbers.”

There was some muttering from the sohei at this. Akitada ignored it and said, “Indeed, it seems very strange that peaceful monks should arrest harmless visitors to their temple and then rough them up. And why have restricted areas? I think the lieutenant had good reason to suspect criminal intent.”

Kanshin fidgeted. “Well,” he said, “it appears to have been a misunderstanding. Your lordship must be aware that Enryaku-ji faces constant threats from our enemies. We are forced to protect ourselves.”

Akitada ignored this. Stepping to Tora, he asked, “Are you all right?”

Tora moved his shoulders as if checking for damage, then nodded. “I seem to be in one piece, sir. No thanks to these thugs.”

Akitada turned back to Kanshin. “You will return Lieutenant Sashima’s armor and sword, as well as his horse. Then I want the chains on that man.” He pointed at the sohei with the tattoo. “He’s being sought by the Otsu police in connection with crimes against citizens. There are others, but this man has been recognized.”

Kanshin blanched. “Impossible. I cannot permit it.”

“You cannot refuse an order from an imperial investigator, Prior. Such an action would have an impact on the present investigation into the charges brought against Enryaku-ji.”

“But the charges were brought by us against Onjo-ji.”

Akitada smiled coldly. “It works both ways, Prior.”

Kanshin cringed, then nodded. “Very well. If the man is indeed found guilty, we will not stand in your way.”

“Then let’s go home!”