Free Lord Oda's Revenge by Nick Lake Page B

was not a big man either, and so he was careful to draw the cart slowly, so as not to reveal his unnatural strength. Oshi was a Taoist priest, a man who dedicated himself to the exorcism of evil spirits. Taro wasn’t about to let on that he himself was a
kyuuketsuki
.
    They walked on in this way for several incense sticks, notspeaking much. Hana seemed deep in thought, and Taro saw her glance many times at Hayao, concern written clearly on her features. He knew it was ludicrous to be envious of such a man – a man being slowly killed by his dead lover. But he was – he was envious of those looks; wished Hana would look at him that way. She didn’t, though. In fact, it seemed she’d barely looked at him since they left the ninja mountain. He found that a small part of him hoped Hayao would not recover, so that nothing would change. He hated that part of him.
    And then they turned a corner on the broad flank of a hill and saw Mount Hiei before them. Taro had never seen the sacred mountain before, but he knew instantly what it was – it was so huge and so perfectly shaped that it couldn’t be anything else.
    â€˜Nearly there,’ said Oshi.
    Hana grinned. ‘It is just as I remembered it,’ she said.
    The conical mountain rose above the very clouds, so that its peak was beyond the rain, as if too elevated and rarefied to be sullied by such earthly things. Before them, the path ran straight, until it climbed into the foothills in looping swathes and steps.
    Just in front of them, though, was a small wood in a natural dip – perhaps a holy wood dedicated to a local
kami
. Indeed it seemed that the peasants of this region had cultivated their paddy fields around it, leaving the grove of trees untouched. It gave Taro a slightly queasy feeling, as they crossed from the light into the dappled place under the leaves. He was just thinking that this would be a perfect place to lie in wait for pilgrims, to ambush them just as they neared the mountain and lowered their guard – when a man dropped from a branch ahead of him, a sword in his hand.

CHAPTER 8
    Â 
    S HUSAKU WISHED HE could see Lord Tokugawa’s eyes, to perceive if his employer was serious.
    â€˜You want me to smuggle the gun into Hongan-ji? Alone?’
    â€˜Yes.’
    â€˜The fortified lair of the Ikko-ikki rebel monks? The most fiercely guarded castle in all of Japan?’
    â€˜Yes.’
    Shusaku’s head spun. The Ikko-ikki were based only a few
ri
from Mount Hiei, on a hill above Osaka, and their reputation was if anything even more ferocious than that of the Tendai monks from Hiei. Geographically, then, they were close, but philosophically, the Ikko-ikki were as far from the Tendai sect as could be. Where the monks of Mount Hiei participated in the great readings from the Lotus Sutra, believing that the path to enlightenment was gained through careful study of its every word, the Ikko-ikki rejected the idea that enlightenment was something to be learned – claiming that anyone, even a humble peasant, could accede to karmic liberation. They did not use written texts of any kind. They called themselves the Pure Land Sect, after the heaven of Amida Buddha, which they said even an illiterate peasant could reach.
    The samurai, of course, hated them. All the lords and nobles followed the Tendai sect. It appealed to them, for it said that holiness was to be found through dedication, money for ceremonies, and the ability to read. To them,
dharma
was contained in a book of ancient scriptures that it cost money to reproduce, and that they could therefore control.
    For the Pure Land believers of the Ikko-ikki,
dharma
, and the potential for total perspective, was contained in every leaf of every tree, and in every droplet of rain. Any man could access it – he had only to look. The karma accumulated through a person’s past lives – or through the generations of their family’s dominion – was