Mother. Now I understood. I had heard of Abe no Akiko by reputation, as had nearly everyone in Kyoto. She had been a famous beauty in her day and, judging from what I could see of her now, that day was not long past. She also had a reputation for being a fierce advocate of her family’s position at court and was rumored to have put more than one rival out of the game permanently. Still, that wasn’t an unusual rumor for any courtier who’d lasted more than a few seasons. More to the point, she wasn’t the one who had summoned me
Lord Abe was silent for a few moments, either collecting his thoughts or making sure his mother was out of earshot; I couldn’t tell which.
“Have you ever been married, Yamada-san?” he said finally.
“I have not, lord.”
“I was, for a while, to a lovely woman named Kuzunoha. I rather enjoyed it, but love and happiness are illusions, as the scriptures say.”
I was beginning to get the drift. “Pardon my impertinence, but when did she leave?”
Lord Abe looked grim. “Two days ago.”
“And you wish for me to find her?”
Lord Abe hesitated. “The matter is a bit more complicated than that, as I’m sure you’ve already guessed. Please follow me.”
Despite Lord Abe’s confidence I hadn’t guessed much about the situation at all, beyond the obvious. Wives left husbands for numerous reasons, and vice versa, and this wouldn’t be the first time I’d been sent after one or the other. Lord Abe’s position was such that he had apparently been able to keep the matter quiet; I’d certainly heard nothing of it. Still, the situation was unfortunate but not a real scandal. I followed as Lord Abe led through a small partition leading to a tiny room behind the dais where Lord Abe had received me. We came to another screen that opened onto another courtyard, and beyond that was the roofed wall that surrounded the entire residence complex. There was another gate visible.
Lord Abe stopped at the screen. It took me a few seconds to realize that he wasn’t looking beyond it but at it. Someone had written a message on the shoji screen in flowing script. It was a poem of farewell, but, despite its obvious beauty, that was not what got my attention. It was Lady Kuzunoha’s confession, clearly stated, that she was not a woman at all but a fox spirit he had once rescued on the grounds of the Inari Shrine and that she could no longer remain with Lord Abe as his wife. The poem ended: “If you would love me again, find me in Shinoda Forest.” The poem was signed “Reluctant Kuzunoha.”
“My lord, are you certain this is your wife’s script?”
“Without question. She always had the most beautiful calligraphy. She could copy any text of the sutras exactly, but when writing as herself her own style is distinctive.”
That his wife had left him was one thing. That his wife was a fox was quite another. Pretending to be a human woman was a fox spirit’s favorite trick, and Lord Abe wouldn’t be the first man to be fooled by one. At the least, that could be somewhat embarrassing, and, in the rarified circles of court where favor and banishment were never separated by more than a sword’s edge, “somewhat” could be enough to tip the scale.
“She knew I didn’t allow servants in here, so none have seen this but my mother and myself. I will destroy the door,” Lord Abe said, “for obvious reasons, but I did want you to see it first. I have already sealed the document granting you authority to act on my behalf in this matter.” He pulled the scroll out of a fold of his robe and handed it to me.
I took the scroll but couldn’t resist the question. “What matter, Lord Abe? Pardon my saying so, but if this confession is true, then you are well rid of her. Fox spirits are dangerous creatures.”
That was an understatement if there ever was. One Chinese emperor had barely avoided being murdered by a fox masquerading as a concubine, and one poor farmer spent a hundred years watching a pair of fox-women playing Go for what he thought was an afternoon. They were tricksters at the best of times and often far worse.
“It wasn’t like that,” Lord Abe said quietly. “Kuzunoha loved me. I do not know what drove her to leave or to make this confession, but I was never in danger from her.”
“You want me to find her, then?” I had to ask. There were at least as many fools among the nobility as elsewhere, and there was always someone who thought the rules didn’t apply to him. I was more than a little relieved to discover that Lord Abe was not that stupid.
He shook his head. His expression had not changed, but his eyes were moist and glistening. “Lady Kuzunoha is correct that we cannot be together now, but she should not have asked me to give up Doshi as well.”
“Doshi?”
“My son, Yamada-san. She took my . . . our son.”
I was beginning to see what he meant by “complicated.”
“I take it you’ve already searched Shinoda Forest?” That was an easy supposition to make. I already knew what he’d found, otherwise I wouldn’t be there.
He sighed. “I should have gone personally, but I did not trust myself to let Kuzunoha go if I ever held her again. My mother suggested we send my personal retainers and in my weakness I agreed. They searched thoroughly, and I lost two good men to an ogre in the process. There was no sign of either Kuzunoha or Doshi.” He looked at me. “That is your task, Yamada-san. I want you to find my son and return him to me.”
“Again I must ask your pardon, Lord, but is this wise? The boy will be half-fox himself. Isn’t there a danger?”
His smile was so faint one might have missed it, but I did not. “There’s always a danger, Yamada-san. If we are fortunate we get to decide which ones we choose to face. I want my son back.”
“By any means required?”
“Do not harm Lady Kuzunoha. With that one exception, do what you must.”
At least my goal was clear enough. I didn’t for one moment think it was going to be easy.
Another advantage of being of the noble class was that it entitled you to carry weapons openly, and Shinoda Forest was not a place you wanted to go empty-handed. The place had a deserved reputation for being the haunt of fox spirits and worse; most bandits even avoided the place, and any bandit who didn’t was not the sort you wanted to meet. Yet here I was, for the princely sum of five imported Chinese bronze coins and one kin of uncooked rice a day, plus reasonable expenses. You can be sure I counted that payment to the red lantern ghost as “reasonable.”
There was a path. Not much of one, but I stuck to it. There was a danger in keeping to the only known path in a wood full of monsters, not to mention it might make finding Lady Kuzunoha even more difficult, but I kept to the path anyway. Getting lost in Shinoda Forest would have done neither me nor my patron much good.
Even so, once you got past the fact that the woods were full of things that wanted to kill you, it was a very beautiful place. There was a hint of fall in the air; the maple leaves were beginning to shade into red, contrasting with the deep green of the rest of the wood. The scent was earthy but not unpleasant. It had been some time since I’d been out of the city and I was enjoying the scent and sounds of a true forest. Too much so, perhaps, otherwise I would never have been caught so easily.
I hadn’t walked three paces past a large stone when the world went black. When I woke up, I almost wished I hadn’t: my head felt like two shou of plum wine crammed into a one shou cask. For a moment I honestly thought it would explode. After a little while, the pain eased enough for me to open my eyes. It was early evening, though of which day I had no idea. I was lying on my side, trussed like a deer on a carrying pole, and about ten feet from a campfire. Sitting beside that campfire were two of the biggest, most unpleasant-looking men it had ever been my misfortune to get ambushed by. They were both built like stone temple guardians, and their arms were as thick as my legs. Otherwise there wasn’t much to separate them, save one was missing an ear and the other’s nose had been split near the tip. One look at them and my aching brain only had room for one question: