Fistful of Tengu
David J. West
It was midday before he reached the high pass where the path disappeared between twin mountain peaks. It was colder here but not so much that the monk concerned himself. The chief danger was the glare of the sun upon the snow and ice, blinding him. He kept a hand over his eyes as he squinted against the dazzling white backdrop.
The wind whipped about him and almost had a malevolent voice, whispering threats. The monk made a gesture of Kujo-kiri with his fingers and the spell of wind ceased.
A gentle crack high above erupted with a shower of thunder. A rockslide raced down toward the path. The monk more agile than he appeared, sidestepped and jumped behind a sheltering overhang hardly big enough for a dog. As the rolling stones settled, he came out and looked above. Something intangible stirred.
The monk continued up the pass with a spry and wary step.
He heard them before he saw them. Cackling laughter with either mischievous undertones or deep bass rumbles of stifled laughter. The monsters were more easily seen from the corners of his vision than directly. They enjoyed the terror they believed they inflicted upon men, the blood turning to ice as men let fear rule them.
But the monk continued higher up the trail, never acknowledging the demonic chuckling or malicious taunts.
When the monsters had enough of being ignored they called out, "Is this one both deaf and dumb? Does the insect not feel the doom that is upon him?" It was then that a dozen of the crow-man-like Tengu and a score of the ogreish Oni fully revealed themselves from behind fields of glamour. They cloistered around the monk as if about to attack and feed upon his flesh.
Paying them no mind, the monk said, "I would speak with your lord for I have a message for his ears alone."
This caused alarm and concern among the monsters, for what man would dare presume to have a message for their demonic lord? A towering Oni roared at the monk, sounding like the hurricane and avalanche combined. But the monk yawned. "Do not waste my time any further. Fetch your lord immediately, for I have a message for him."
The monsters looked to each other and nodded. A black-winged Tengu sprang up and flew into the mist-shrouded clouds near the frozen peak. He returned a short moment later. "Our lord comes and he will feed upon your flesh for your insolence," spoke the fiend.
The monk said nothing to this, but waited.
The beat of powerful wings, much louder than the other Tengu's, thumped closer. Where the Oni wore but loincloths and carried hammers and naginatas, the Tengu wore robes of fine silk and wielded katanas. The Tengu lord was dressed in even richer apparel. His silken robe bore many devices and patterns of gold and scarlet. His sword handle was wrought with dragon skin and gems, a gold crown perched upon his ebon brow and his beak seemed to quiver with what could only be an insidious and cruel smile. It was hard to tell with a beak.
His voice was like thunder and he said booming, "A mortal dares to demand my presence? You will be especially tortured unless you speak a truly valuable message."
"It is, oh lord of the mountain, it is. I ask for you and your servants to depart, never to return," said the monk.
The Tengu's eyes of jet bore into the monk before blinking. Laughter erupted from the Tengu lord. "You are the boldest fool I have ever met. And what if I refuse your offer? Then what?"
"It will hurt," spoke the monk placidly.
The Tengu lord raged, "Slay him!"
But remaining as still as cold stone, the monk raised his hand, "I have insulted your lordship, perhaps we could compose a challenge for us both. So that you might regain your honor."
Incredulous the Tengu lord shot back, "Me? Regain my honor? I have lost nothing. What challenge would you have for us, fool?"
"A challenge of life and death."
"You know no weapons forged by man can hurt me."
"Yes."
"And still you wish to challenge me?"
"Yes."
"Very well. Your doom is upon you."
They rounded on each other, the Tengu lord standing nearly a foot taller than the monk. Quick jabs with sharp talons rained down upon the old monk, which the monk casually blocked. Raging the Tengu lord attacked all the fiercer, but quick as he was, he could not grasp the monk in his shining talons.
The monk still only blocked the Tengu lord's attacks.
"Tell me who you are, monk. To be such a skilled opponent I would know your name," said the Tengu lord.
"Musashi, Miyamoto. I have come seeking the void and to find worthy adversaries. I have found only you."
The monsters all blinked in surprise at facing the famed sword saint, even without his katana.
Bolstering his own failing courage the Tengu lord shouted, "Perhaps you are the greatest human warrior alive, but you have no weapon that can harm me."
"I am the weapon, not forged by man," said Musashi as his hand shot out and took the Tengu lord's beak in his left hand.
The Tengu's eyes grew wide with fear, never before had anyone been able to lay their hands upon him. He pulled back but Musashi's grip tightened, even to the point of placing two fingers into the nostrils. Horror filled the monster's black soul as he watched Musashi's right hammer-like fist raise.
The fist came down at the base of the beak and smote it free. Holding the beak in his fist, Musashi said, "You had the choice between blessing and curse. I grant your wish."
Screaming and in painful shock, the Tengu lord suddenly went silent as Musashi slammed the broken beak into his feather-covered heart. The monstrous lord fell in the snow, his crimson blood staining the whiteness.
Facing the rest of them with his bloody fist, Musashi spoke softly, "Weapons need to be constantly sharpened and used. Sometimes they break." He cast the beak at their feet. "Who is next?"
The monsters turned and fled, some melting away into the fog and others taking wing and heading south.
The Tengu lord's body shifted, cracked, and fell apart in the snows as if it were thousands of years old. The beak on the snows turned to dust and blew away on the wind.
Musashi rubbed his scruffy chin and then continued on his journey.
