Tarama's Temper: Part 1 – Kitsune

It was a humid summer night when a feint glow of light was seen by all peoples on the isle of Tarama, no matter how far they stood from it. The light emanated from the pinnacle of a magnificent castle, which was as grand as any Shogun’s in Japan. The people of the island had seen that same glow in the darkness many times before, and knew that it always came from a raucous party being held inside the ornate fortress, and always hosted by the man who called the citadel his home; Lord Katsuro Ogawa, the Daimyo of Miyako. It was a painful reminder of what sacrifice they unwillingly made to raise the castle up from the island floor.

****

Katsuro and his subjects were gathered inside a large room near the top of the castle, seated on the floor around a long table, where they consumed excessive amounts of food and liquor. What Katsuro called an official meeting of plans and preparations for Tarama, appeared to be nothing more than a regular party for the aristocrats, with himself becoming especially distracted by the merrymaking more often than not.

“As you can see, we’ve removed much of the forests to the south of the castle, almost leading up to the shores,” Katsuro said as he pointed to the indicated area on a map laid across the table, “I originally considered cutting down everything up to the beaches, but with the terrain being so hilly, I see no reason why, with a little hard work, we couldn’t make it all into rice terraces at some point.”

“And with a small section of the forest in between that and the shores, there’s little chance of any of the sea water washing in,” one of the other men at the party chimed in, understanding Katsuro’s intent.

“Precisely the idea, and I don’t think I need to tell any of you how rice doesn’t grow in salt water…” Katsuro said with a wily grin as he held up a clay urn of sake for everyone to see. The gesture amused every vassal in the room, and the men were clearly pleased by what the Daimyo planned to grow the rice for.

“There’s no better use out of a farm than for sake, my Lord!” one of them chuckled, and the others cheered in agreement.

“It’s an even better plan than your mining excavations in those mountains, Lord Ogawa!” another cried out as he raised his glass. Katsuro laughed heartily at the statement.

“Well, as much as I love a good drink, I still hold hope that there are gems of unthinkable value sitting in those mines, and should we find them, they’ll make us richer than any Daimyo back in Japan!” he declared confidently as some of his advisors hollered in approval of his bravado. “But that is an operation we can discuss more about on another night,” Katsuro added, and began to roll up his map, “For now, I think a few more drinks and some hot beef are in order!”

Just like that, whatever brief businesslike aura that had been established during the presentation was shattered by Katsuro’s announcement. The vassals once again struck up conversation with one another as they poured more glasses of sake and passed around platters of food.

Perhaps the only man in attendance who grew impatient of it all was Hitoshi Nakane, Katsuro’s closest advisor. He was a few years older than the Daimyo, as well as far more sensible and humbled. As Katsuro resumed bantering with the vassals and draining cups of sake, Hitoshi leaned over to grab his master’s attention.

“Lord Katsuro, don’t you think that you are wasting an ample opportunity to explain more of your plans for the islands this night?” he whispered. Katsuro, partially inebriated by his many drinks, turned towards the man and bellowed another laugh.

“What’s the matter, Nakane- is this not your kind of party?” the Daimyo joked, “If you’ve been unable to get a drink passed to you, all you need is to ask.” Some of the other men seated near Katsuro and Hitoshi burst into laughter of their own. Hitoshi, on the other hand, suppressed a sneer at Katsuro’s teasing, as well as being referred to by his surname.

“No, my Lord, I merely think we should explain our procedures as we anticipated to this night,” Hitoshi explained, and reached across the table to take hold of the map of Tarama. After unrolling the parchment, he indicated a number of different diagrams drawn on the paper. “You still have many different projects that you have not even mentioned to the others yet; what you plan to do with the fishing village in the north, the fields beyond the mountains, the quarries outside of the mines…” Before Hitoshi could finish, Katsuro gently pushed the map away.

“I admire your enthusiasm, Hitoshi, but there is no need to be so hasty!” Katsuro said with an amused smile, “We have already accomplished many great things in our short stay here on this island and we have numerous things to look forward to; we must enjoy our work and savor it! Why, I couldn’t even count how many Daimyos from Japan would be utterly envious of the opportunities we have here!”

Hitoshi rolled his eyes at the mentioning of other Daimyos. He wanted to add that they would also be jealous of how Katsuro was handed his position of power. No other man in Japan had an uncle who led an entire army southward across the oceans to conquer the long-isolated Ryukyu Islands, and no other man was given complete control of a group of eight isles to rule over however he pleased.

But Katsuro, who now called the Miyako cluster of islands his sovereign territory, just happened to have that good fortune.

“Other Daimyos also do not have seven other islands to watch over, and the people who live on them, as you do,” Hitoshi continued, forcing himself not to raise his tone, “We’ve done much here on Tarama, yes, but there is much more left for us to finish, and you have not even so much as visited any of the other islands here in the Miyako cluster.”

“And why do you consider that to be such a problem, my friend?”

“Well, I cannot say for certain what the other islanders think, but the Ryukyuans here on Tarama have despised you ever since we all arrived. If word ever spreads fast to the other islands, I would imagine that all of the other Ryukyuans here in Miyako, or perhaps across all of the Ryukyus would grow to despise you. That would certainly present an issue as we tried to initiate other operations on the islands.”

Katsuro belched perhaps his loudest laugh of the entire night.

“Baaahaha! You are fearful over absolutely nothing, Hitoshi!” Katsuro retorted, “I am fully aware that these lowly islanders have hated me ever since I set foot on Tarama, and that they must hate me even more after I made them tear down their forests and spend months erecting this castle. But my uncle proved that the Ryukyus and their people are a pitiful force compared to those of us from Japan, and so long as I have my own personal army with us here, the Ryukyus pose no danger. My uncle would not have granted me rule over Tarama and the other nearby islands if he did not trust all of us, now would he?”

Hitoshi readied a response to the Daimyo’s question, but before he could even utter a word, Katsuro was handed a small dish of hot beef.

“Eat up, drink up, and rest your mind, Hitoshi, this is a night of celebration - not worry!” Katsuro said with the same nonchalant smile he wore the entire time.

Hitoshi took the plate reluctantly, and held back a long sigh.

* * *

Despite all of the festivity that took place the night before, Katsuro awoke early the next morning. Aside from his debate on which of the many lavish kimonos he would choose to wear that day, he spent little time idling in his castle. After donning a robe of brilliant cerulean, he enjoyed a short breakfast, much of which was leftover morsels from the party with his vassals. When all in the castle had eaten, Katsuro gathered his men together and set out to survey various regions of the island.

Although their trip took them only a few miles across the isle, Katsuro had no intention to trek by foot. The tropical air was hot and muggy that day- a climate that the Japanese folk still were not accustomed to. To avoid any discomfort throughout the march, every man in the troupe mounted upon one of Katsuro’s great warhorses that he brought from his estate in Japan, which made the already mild journey even more relaxed for the proud Daimyo and his advisors.

What Katsuro enjoyed even more were the reactions that the he and his company received when they entered one of Tarama’s largest villages. As soon as Katsuro’s horse put its first hoof down within the settlement, every resident came into view and bowed to the Daimyo.

None of the gestures were genuine, as the Ryukyuans despised Katsuro for his tyrannical rule over Tarama. The people of that particular village had been forced to labor on the construction of his castle, which required much of the surrounding forests to be cut down for timber. The Ryukyuans desired to oppose the callous orders, but with Katsuro’s personal army enforcing his every command, they were helpless to resist. With tremendous pain and guilt, they decimated many sacred grounds on their islands- holy locations that they highly revered.

Although Katsuro knew that they only showed veneration out of fear, the young Lord developed a wide smile across as his face. Several of the villagers, especially the children, gazed in awe at the horses that the men rode upon. Horses were not native creatures to the islands, and to behold such beautiful specimens was an absolute wonder for the younger Ryukyuans.

Katsuro cared nothing for their excitement, but he certainly felt great satisfaction in seeing their wide eyes and gaping mouths as they watched his prized steeds pass by.

“Bow to your Lord, all of you!” one of Katsuro’s guards cried out to the villagers, “On your knees for the Daimyo of Miyako!”

Katsuro chuckled at his soldier’s proclamation. “Rest your voice, Nobuhiro,” he said, “These islanders dare not disrespect me; they understand precisely what will happen to them, otherwise.” Hardly before he finished his sentence, Katsuro caught something out the tail of his eye. Just ahead of him and his party, in the middle of a small crowd, stood an elderly man. Several of the villagers had pleaded with him to genuflect even before Katsuro noticed, while a young child tugged on his tan sarong desperately.

But the man never even considered bowing to the Daimyo.

“You there!” cried Nobuhiro, before Katsuro could utter something himself, “Why do you not bow to Lord Ogawa?” The elderly man replied almost immediately.

“I find no good reason to,” he said. There were a few gasps which emerged from the population of villagers, and in an instant Katsuro’s entire group stopped marching.

“Bring him forward,” the young Daimyo demanded calmly, not ready to lose his composure, yet. He did not even have to look at any of his men or address them directly- two soldiers quickly hopped off their mounts and dragged the old man in front of Katsuro. He looked to be no one of importance, dressed like most men on the island only in a thin sarong and a light tunic. His hair, which was surprisingly dark given his age, fell across the back of his neck, although he was entirely bald on the very top of his head. Katsuro stared at his aged face intently, which appeared totally unperturbed.

“Tell me, old man, why would you be foolish enough to insult me in front of my very eyes?” the Daimyo asked condescendingly.

“Because I do not fear you, your men, or any part of your cruel control over these islands,” the man answered.

“Well, you’ve clearly shown me that,” Katsuro said with a smirk, “Do you have no concern for your well-being? A death wish, even?”

“You could kill me in the middle of the village this very moment, and I would die without a single regret.”

“I’m going to assume that you are not very pleased with my presence in these parts, are you?” Katsuro asked, almost sarcastically, while several of his men behind him snickered. The elderly man was unfazed.

“You are perhaps the most vile man to ever step foot on the Ryukyus, but I know you will not be in control of these islands for much longer,” the man said. Katsuro’s eyebrows perked up in curiosity.

“Is that so?” he laughed, “Is there some army coming to destroy my forces? Or better yet, are you dirty Ryukyuans planning to rebel and drive me out yourselves?”

“I doubt that we will, as the island will surely do that for us,” the man explained.

“The island?” Katsuro scoffed, both amused and surprised by the response. The old man gave nodded confidently.

“You have committed many atrocities against Tarama, against the people and the very island itself. The spirits here will not let it go unpunished; you’ll witness their wrath soon enough.” Katsuro could no longer repress his laughter.

“Oh my, at first I thought you were merely too bitter and too stubborn to show me any reverence; but if you expect me to believe that nonsense, clearly you’re just an insane old fool!”

“You would believe it is superstition, but you do not know these islands,” the elder went on, “You who come from Japan can never understand what exists here in the Ryukyus; just how strong the spirits are in these parts. There is a reason why the world had stayed away from us for hundreds of years before your country came to conquer us.”

Katsuro rolled his eyes at the elder’s explanation. “If what you say is true, then where were these ‘spirits’ when my uncle and his army came here and forced you under our rule?”

“Undisturbed,” the man plainly answered, “Your uncle and his soldiers did not ravage our islands or our people. You, on the other hand, have made us into your slaves, and forced us into work that has destroyed many sacred grounds here; the resting places of Tarama’s spirits.”

“So, you mean to tell me that I’m in danger of being attacked by the spirits, now?” Katsuro jeered, “That a bunch of demons and such are going to take revenge upon me for cutting down some trees and plowing some fields?”

“You will see for yourself soon enough,” the elder replied. Katsuro waved his hand uncaringly.

“Your strange tales are nothing but myths, old man, and they’ll do nothing to frighten me,” the Daimyo retorted, “Nor will they keep me from seeing to all my plans for Miyako and its islands.” Katsuro looked away from the old man and made his horse begin trotting once again.

“Come along, boys, and leave these crazed people to believe in whatever silly magic they wish.”

The rest of his troupe spurred their horses to follow, and they resumed marching towards their destination. Many murmurs and whispers swirled amid the crowds while the Daimyo and his party passed through the rest of the village. There was a unanimous feeling of relief among the villagers that Katsuro chose not to punish the elder, who displayed more courage than any other person on Tarama had since the young Daimyo had arrived. They believed in the same spirits that the old man spoke of, but they were no where near as willing to warn Katsuro of them.

Yet, at the same time, they knew that the elder told Katsuro no lies that day.

* * *

Katsuro and his party later arrived at a cluster of small mountains, the same group he had spoken of the night before during the feast. After tying up their horses, he and his men spent the afternoon traversing the rocky crags. He showed off all of the spots that he was most interested in exploiting, specifically those that contained abundant deposits of thick stone, which he would one day have mined and used in future constructions across Tarama.

The young Lord also took the men through some of the cavernous systems beneath the mountains. Inside the caves was a myriad of minerals that the Daimyo dreamed of excavating. Some of the precious gems could be spotted out in the open, protruding from the walls and the cavern floor in their crystallized forms.

After a few hours, the troupe at last began to make their way back to the castle. They rode even more leisurely than they did on their way to the mountains, as the heat had become less stifling later in the day. But more importantly, Katsuro could not stop talking during the trip; gloating over his endeavors and what great things he assured everyone would come of them.

“And what you saw before was only a portion of those caves,” Ogawa said aloud as they all continued through one of Tarama’s many forests, “I have men exploring those caverns every day, and by the time they’re finished mapping it out, I can take you through what areas we couldn’t look at today.”

“How much deeper do you think they go, my Lord?” one of the vassals asked.

“The crews that I have down there tell me that there could be miles left uncharted, so use your imaginations!” Katsuro laughed, and the rest of his group hollered in approval.

“Then that means that there’s even more metal to be mined there, and probably all kinds of gems that you haven’t found yet,” one of the men said, his eyes glowing at the possibilities. Katsuro made a heavy nod in the man’s direction.

“That is exactly what I’m hoping for, my friend, and if things go my way…”

Katsuro continued to ramble on about the mines; however one man in the party became distracted by a sound nearby in the forest. Hitoshi’s head shot to the side after he thought he heard a snap come from the foliage only a few dozen yards away. Nobody else seemed to notice it, but Hitoshi still felt that he needed to bring it to attention.

“Shh! Did any of you hear that?” he asked, peering out into the forest. Katsuro looked back at his advisor, somewhat irritated.

“What on Earth are you talking about, Hitoshi? Did any of us hear what?” Ogawa barked. Hitoshi could not take his eyes off the trees and bushes to the side of the path, and now many in the group were doing the same thing.

“None of you heard it?” he asked again, in disbelief, “It sounded as if something is moving over there beyond the trees.” Katsuro turned his eyes to the spot Hitoshi spoke of. He, too, saw nothing, not even a single leaf rustling.

“Mister Nakane, it must have been in your head, there is nothing over there that could be…”

Before Katsuro could finish, a cry from one of the vassals disrupted their exchange.

“Look out!” he screamed, and suddenly a flash of white leapt out from the trees on the other side of the path. The group was stunned as they looked up to see a large fox-like creature jump clear over them and the horses, and disappear beyond the opposite side of the road.

“What in the world was that?” Katsuro cried. At that moment, another fox bounded from the same bushes they had been watching before, and landed within the branches of nearby tree.

Suddenly there appeared a skulk of foxes which sprang from the foliage, running about wildly and jumping to and fro around the group. Each was bigger than any wolf found in Japan and their fur was bizarre in color; pure snowy white, but with streaks of blue, purple, red or black running from their heads down across their backs. Multiple tails, as many as five for some of them, wafted above their hindquarters, and were as long as their entire bodies.

“Surround the Daimyo! Protect Lord Ogawa!” Hitoshi yelled with his sword drawn, directing the soldiers to form a barrier around Katsuro. Most of the guards were in disarray as they watched the strange creatures skip about, but Hitoshi managed to have enough of them encircle the Daimyo and close him off from the mysterious foxes. The vassals, on the other hand, were in complete panic. Those that were not petrified tried to ride off in any direction they could, but each way they looked, the foxes blocked their path.

“Keep those beasts away from me!” Katsuro yelled, and like the rest of the men, struggled to keep his terrified horse from throwing him off.

The foxes barely so much as barked while they danced about the men, but they soon displayed an even stranger feature. Colorful fire began to burn on their paws and tails, yet it did not appear to even singe their fur. Flames of violet, crimson, cerulean, emerald and other bizarre hues leapt from their bodies, throwing fire all over the shrubbery and only inches from the horses on the pathway.

“Everyone ready your bows, and aim for whatever one you can shoot!” the soldier named Nobuhiro shouted. He fired an arrow from his bow, but the shot whizzed past one of the foxes which balanced on a low-hanging branch. More of the soldiers began to find their wits, and they joined in sending their own volleys at the creatures.

“Hitoshi, you and those men get Lord Ogawa away from here,” Nobuhiro yelled over the clamor, “Head back to the castle, and we’ll make sure to take care of these things.”

“You all heard him, let’s get out of here!” Hitoshi announced, and set his horse into a gallop.

He and the men which surrounded Katsuro immediately spurred their horses down the path, racing away from the scene as fast as they could. The soldiers did not even attempt to keep themselves enclosed about the Daimyo, and their formation was lost as they made a hasty retreat through the forest.

They quickly created a distance between themselves and the foxes, which did not bother to chase after them. Nonetheless, Katsuro and the rest of his men averted their eyes from the sides of the road and back at the other soldiers. They only stared straight ahead, desperately anticipating the sight of the castle and its safe walls.

The party fled the forests and sped across Tarama as fast as their horses would carry them. The Daimyo led the whole way, spurring his steed nearly past its limit as he raced towards his castle. Even when he and the rest of his troupe came to the village they visited earlier that day, not one of them slowed for a moment. It was only once they finally reached the fortress that they ceased their retreat, and hastily slammed the front gate behind.

Although they did not so much as put a foot down during the mad dash, many of the soldiers stood around in the courtyard catching their breath after dismounting. The horses, some of which were almost to the point of exhaustion, appeared more composed than the terrified men.

Katsuro was especially unsettled while he paced around trying and failing to make sense of the strange creatures that attacked his group.

“You all saw them, too, am I right?” he eventually cried out, nearly ready to lose his mind. Most of his men were very slow to respond, only answering with rapid nods of their heads. Katsuro gaited over to Hitoshi, who was perhaps the only man that remained fairly calm. “What on earth were those things, Hitoshi? What kind of monsters were those and where in the world did they come from?”

“I-I don’t know, Katsuro, I’ve never seen anything like them, either…” Hitoshi answered, very aware of how distraught Katsuro was, “But you’re safe now in the castle, just try to ease yourself.”

Hitoshi was reasonably distressed himself, even if he did not display it. As hard as he tried to stay collected, it was difficult to settle down after what happened, and he imagined that his advice fell on deaf ears with Katsuro.

Suddenly the men all heard the front gate unlock, and they snapped their heads to the side. For a moment their hearts raced as the doors slowly swung open, not sure if some other strange beast would run in through the entrance.

Instead, it was the small band of soldiers that stayed back to fend off the foxes, and at last the men felt some sense of relief. Katsuro quickly made his way to the returning guardsmen.

“You’re back! And every one of you, no less!” Katsuro exclaimed, believing it to be a good sign that none of the men were lost in the attack, “Did you kill those beasts?” None of the men could look the Daimyo in the eye, all except Nobuhiro, who still averted his face as he answered.

“N-no, my Lord, we didn’t…we didn’t manage to kill any of them…”

Katsuro’s response was a mixture of shock and anger.

“What do you mean you didn’t kill any of them? You mean you simply let them get away? Did you not even bother to chase after them?”

“Well, that’s the problem, my Lord…we don’t know where they went…” Nobuhiro explained. Katsuro’s face twisted in confusion.

“What are you talking about?” he asked. Nobuhiro gulped, and took a long pause before answering.

“They just…disappeared,” he began with a dreary voice, “You see, once you all rode off, we tried to fight them…but all of our weapons passed through the bodies as if they weren’t there. And those creatures…they never actually attacked us, they just ran around like they were only trying to scare us. After a while, then, they finally just jumped back into the forest and vanished…and so did all of their fire. Nothing, not a single leaf was burned, and they didn’t leave any kind of tracks on the ground. It was if they were never even there with us…”

The entire group fell silent, and a thick wave of fear passed over the men after hearing Nobuhiro’s account. Katsuro unquestionably had the most dramatic reaction; his body nearly froze in place, and his bulging eyes drifted away from the soldier as he stared aimlessly at the ground. For the first time since coming to the Ryukyus, the young Daimyo had no idea what to make of something on the isle of Tarama.