"Humph... So that's why."
Having heard her report, he put a hand on his chin and sunk into thought. His stubble made a scraping sound each time his finger brushed it.
"Why what?" She couldn't help asking back, failing to grasp his meaning.
"Hmm. How should I put it? According to the higher ups, a whole host of monsters attacked this place, but..."
His brows furrowed.
"Doesn't it seem too quiet?"
His words took Koyoi aback.
It's true. This is a battlefield, and yet...
All that reached her ears was here own ragged breathing, the sound of Doon rubbing his stubble, and the noises of men and women making love.
"Nothing. No sounds of swords or gunpowder. No shouts or screams."
"This is starting to look pretty bad."
His voice, more serious than she had ever heard it before, lodged itself deep in her brain.
The castle is the enemy's main base, and there are hardly any monsters in the town.
That pointed to one conclusion.
"That castle must be pretty dangerous..."
Doon's quiet words remained in her heart forever.
◊ ♦ ◊ ♦ ◊
Amanomiya Tōtetsu passed away when Koyoi was eighteen.
It was a peaceful death — he had been more than one hundred years old, and had raised the three sisters who were to succeed him to almost full maturity — so his funeral was practically a party. Tōtetsu's body reposed on the altar, while, in a large room separated from it by sliding screens, his relatives feasted.
Zipangu's funerary customs had existed since ancient times. The deceased was placed in a room separated by screens or doors, and their relatives kept watch through the night in an adjacent chamber. It was said that if this was not done, evil spirits would carry off the body. Among the common people the old customs were gradually becoming mere formalities, but the Amanomiya clan, who made their livelihood exorcising monsters, still obstinately observed the tradition.
Koyoi had undergone her coming of age ceremony three years previously, but she still could not understand the appeal of alcohol. She gingerly sipped the clear rice wine that had been poured into her cup with a sour expression. In contrast, Shinonome, sitting next to her, had just drained her fifth cup.
"I suppose Lady Shinonome will be the next head, then...?"
"No, as far as I can see from their training, Lady Koyoi has greater potential..."
And grandfather's not even in his grave.
The sour look on her face was not only due to the wine. Arguments about who should be the successor, and who was on whose side, were unfolding, mingled with the cheerful noises of the banquet. They were exchanged in whispers, but she was nearly sober, and could not help overhearing them. She felt an urge to cover her ears, but a candidate for the next head of the clan could not engage in such undignified behavior.
I'm jealous of Shinonome. She quaffed her wine so quickly that I doubt she's picking up these conversations, Koyoi thought, and turned to look at her elder sister.
She had never seen that look on her sister's face before, and she never saw it there again. Shinonome was scowling, and her brow was wrinkled. Her eyes seemed to be blazing with the light of the candle flames. Her bared teeth were making a grinding sound. Koyoi's usually stoic sister wore a look of rage. And her gaze was fixed on the relatives squabbling over the succession.
◊ ♦ ◊ ♦ ◊
Koyoi and Doon had gotten clear of the slums.
On their way, the pair had discovered a small church. Doon had shot Koyoi a look, signaling her to wait. As they had worked together many times before, he had no difficulty making his meaning understood.
The front door stood slightly ajar. The light that seeped through the crack cast a long, thin beam on the church's wooden floor. Doon craned his neck to peer inside, and gasped. Then he quickly clapped a hand over his nose and mouth.
The first thing he had sensed had been the odor of dense mana. An odor so thick and strong that the one wafting from the castle could not compare. Mana that was clearly emanating from within the church itself.
His ears picked up faint sounds. He concentrated on his sense of hearing.
"Aahn, ah, aaah.
"Father, please, inside; in my womb.
"Ngh. I love you, I love you, I love you!"
A woman's voice. And, in the gaps between her cries, the sound of creaking wood, and a man's low moans.
Doon withdrew his head so as not to make a sound, then turned to look at Koyoi, who questioned him worriedly. He shook his head without a word. She sighed. He had already started walking again, and she hurried to catch up to him.
The bumps in the paving stones had grown fewer, and the clacking of the geta lighter. The houses had also gotten gradually newer and more beautiful, and eye-catching hues more plentiful. In the midst of them, Doon, running a few steps ahead of Koyoi, came to a sudden halt at a corner.
"Everything's changed, but this place looks the same as ever," she heard him mutter.
"What do you..." She started to ask, but then she followed his gaze and held her tongue. There hung a dingy signboard which read: "Doon & Finé, Armorers."
The building had almost certainly once been a shop, but it was now deserted, and as rundown as its sign. Rot had made holes in the door, exposure to wind and rain had caused mold to grow on the window frames, and the walls were smeared with dust and mud.
"The 'Doon' on the signboard would not happen to be..."
"It is. I lived here, a long time ago. With my wife."
So saying, her drew a small paper from his pocket. It was folded in two, and, when opened, was about the size of his palm.
"She is a beautiful woman."