Pathway to Japanese Literature

I. The White-Horse Princess

“Ninaaru, wait a moment,” called out her father, Marquis Carra.
Princess Ninaaru, wearing a bright red Chinese dress embroidered with gold and silver threads and mounted on a pure white horse named Buretsu, was just about to set out.

“What is it, Father?” Princess Ninaaru turned around.

She had just turned fifteen, so while her face was still that of a child, her body was quite large—almost like an adult’s.

“Today, weren’t you supposed to take Jiura and go out to play in the mountains? Then why are you heading out alone on horseback?”

Princess Ninaaru laughed brightly like a red flower blooming and clinked her golden spurs.

“But Father, Prince Jiura may be a boy, but he’s terrible at riding and says he doesn’t want to go because he’s scared of falling.”

Marquis Carra furrowed his brow deeply.

“Hmm, it’s quite troublesome that the Prince of Mongolia is so poor at riding horses, isn’t it? Very well, since I have a plan, you may go alone today. But recently, there have been reports of bandits entering these mountains around here, so be extra careful.”

“It’s fine. If I give Buretsu a single whip, those bandits can’t possibly catch up!”

No sooner had she spoken than Princess Ninaaru gave Buretsu’s belly a light kick with her foot and galloped off like an arrow toward the towering Gingan Ridge in the distance.

Princess Ninaaru was the only child of a Manchurian noble who had built his castle at the foot of this Gingan Ridge.
Her mother had come from the King of Mongolia as a bride but had recently passed away from illness.
Marquis Carra, her father, thinking his only child Princess Ninaaru must be lonely, summoned her cousin Prince Jiura from Mongolia and had him become her companion.
Prince Jiura was a child of a prestigious family among the King of Mongolia’s lineage, said to be descendants of Genghis Khan.
However, unfortunately, his father had passed away early, and then recently, his mother also died, leaving him an orphan.
Therefore, Marquis Carra thought it would be good for the Prince as well.

However, though Prince Jiura was a year older than Princess Ninaaru, he was thin and small with a pale face, always withdrawing to corners and remaining silent. Moreover, despite this, he was stubborn and would often put on a haughty face as if declaring, “I am the Prince of Mongolia!” Because of this, he was only despised and disliked by the many servants and did nothing to alleviate Princess Ninaaru’s loneliness.

However, on Princess Ninaaru’s part alone, whether Prince Jiura was present or not mattered little to her. As ever, she remained cheerful, lively, and bold enough to rival any man—riding horses, shooting guns, and rampaging about with all her might.

However, despite her outward demeanor, she was still a girl at heart. Deep down, she often recalled her late mother’s gentle words and beautiful form, secretly shedding tears when no one was around.

In other words, her engagement in intense exercise and valiant martial arts was an attempt to distract herself, striving to lessen these sorrowful feelings as much as possible.

II. Lama Tower’s Lights

About a week had passed—a beautiful, clear night.
Princess Ninaaru and Prince Jiura went out into the castle garden and breathed the fresh air.
In this area, located far north even within Manchuria, summer days ended very late, so people often stayed up into the night.

There was the scent of a flower resembling a rose, and the song of a bird like a cuckoo could be heard.
Then, the castle hall clock struck eleven with a deep, resonant sound that seemed to sink to the very depths of the earth—BONG... BONG...
This clock had hung in the palace on Longevity Hill within Beijing’s imperial city long ago, when China was still called the Qing Dynasty—a gift from foreign lands meant to curry favor with Empress Dowager Cixi, who at the time wielded more power than the emperor himself. Princess Ninaaru’s grandfather had acquired it.

When the clock finished striking eleven, Prince Jiura—suddenly clinging to Princess Ninaaru’s arm as if something had come over him—whispered fearfully.

“Ninaaru, what’s that? What kind of light is that?”

Prince Jiura’s finger pointed toward Lama Tower, which loomed blackly like a monster in the distance.

Indeed, from the lower floor of Lama Tower—usually devoid of people—a small firelight flickered into view.
It would vanish abruptly, then glow yellow again—exactly like fireflies in the grass.

When she saw that, Princess Ninaaru’s heart pounded.

Lama Tower was built long ago when this castle was a Lama Buddhist temple—a very ancient structure—but after Marquis Carra’s ancestors seized it, there came a time when enemies attacked and temporarily occupied it.
At that time, a brave girl named Takumaru, only eighteen years old, helped her younger brothers and sisters, barricaded herself in this tower, fought the enemy to the end, and was finally cut down.
Thus, there was a rumor that Takumaru’s ghost appeared in Lama Tower, and no one would go near it.

“Right... Since they say Takumaru’s ghost appears, that might actually be it. Prince Jiura, how about going to see its true form?” Princess Ninaaru said with a laugh.

“No! I’m scared. Let’s just go back inside and sleep. It’s already so late tonight!”

Having said that, Prince Jiura immediately stood up and began heading back toward the house.
Then Princess Ninaaru’s playful urge grew even stronger, and she seized Prince Jiura without releasing him.

“What’s this? How can someone destined to become Mongolia’s king act so spineless?”
“Come now—I’ll escort you to that entrance myself. Go on and investigate!”

“No! I’m scared!”

Prince Jiura adamantly refused to budge.
Yet Princess Ninaaru—recalling her father’s earlier words—forcibly dragged Prince Jiura along until she brought him to the blackened Lama Tower.
She had acted this way precisely because she remembered how her father had suggested making Jiura visit that haunted tower alone to temper his courage.
Thus she even wondered whether someone might have lit that mysterious light under Father’s orders.

Lama Tower seemed close at hand, but in reality, one had to pass through a small grove of mixed trees, reach the edge of a valley, cross a bridge there, and travel another three hundred meters to the foot of a small hill.
Above the tower, in the bluish-black sky, stars twinkled brightly.

“Now, from here on out you must go alone, Prince Jiura,” Princess Ninaaru said.
“Go and find out what that tower’s light is.”
“If there are any bad people there, shoot them down with this.”

Princess Ninaaru handed the pistol that glowed even in the dark to Prince Jiura, whose hand was trembling.

“I’ll wait here, okay? Summon your courage and go!”

However, since Prince Jiura was still dawdling, Princess Ninaaru gave his back a light poke.
Prince Jiura walked through the tall summer grass with faltering steps that seemed ready to collapse at any moment, rustling the vegetation noisily as he went.
Before long, the jet-black Lama Tower—looming like a small hill directly before him—had engulfed Prince Jiura’s small figure.

III. The Conspiracy

About fifteen or sixteen minutes must have passed.
Even Princess Ninaaru was anxiously praying for Prince Jiura’s safe and swift return. Yet no matter how long she waited, he did not come back.
Princess Ninaaru was so worried that she could no longer remain still.
And so, she too set out for Lama Tower.
Step by step, she advanced, fearing Prince Jiura might have collapsed there.

When she finally reached Lama Tower’s entrance, even the courageous princess hesitated for a moment.
This was because the tower’s base was truly grand—its entrance stood as high and wide as the castle gate, with tremendously large stone statues resembling fierce guardian deities lining both sides of the pillars and walls. Even Princess Ninaaru—courageous as she was—could not help shuddering at their fearsome presence. For someone as weak-willed as Prince Jiura, passing through such a place would have been utterly impossible.
While wondering if he might have fainted there, she carefully scanned the area but found no trace of such a thing. Thus Princess Ninaaru resolutely entered the tower.
A chilly air brushed her face, and a musty odor struck her nose.
But since it was pitch-dark and the footing was dangerous, she hesitated for a moment—when suddenly, a faint light appeared ahead.

“Ah, just as I thought—Father must have ordered someone to light the lamps. Prince Jiura must certainly be there as well.”

Princess Ninaaru groped her way forward, stealthily advancing deeper inside. Then she heard the voices of two or three men talking about something. Since their language didn’t seem local, the clever princess grew suspicious and cautiously pressed onward until she discerned lamplight seeping from a room on the tower’s north side. Stealthily approaching to peer inside, she found three bushy-bearded men who appeared to be bandits sitting cross-legged. Two of them faced the entrance, with horse saddles, tack, jewel-studded daggers, and ornate lacquer boxes arrayed beside them.

“Can’t you lower it a bit more?”

Then, one of them spoke to the man who was facing away.

“Not a single sen less,” replied the man on this side.
Not only was it in the local dialect, but the voice also seemed somehow familiar.

“Think about it.
“Buretsu—or rather, this ain’t just some nag from Marquis Carra’s stables! It’s a prize steed from North Manchuria and Mongolia!”

“If that’s how it is—then when are you handing over the horses?”

“Tomorrow, I’ll hand them over.”

“No mistakes?”
“In that case, I’ll leave a deposit of fifty ryō here.”

The long red-bearded bandit counted out the glittering silver coins and laid them there.
As the man facing away received them, he inadvertently revealed his profile in that moment.

“Ah!”

Princess Ninaaru unintentionally let out a small cry of surprise.
That was because it was Arlai, the groom who tended Princess Ninaaru’s horse.

Arlai, hearing Princess Ninaaru’s faint cry, immediately opened the door and lit a torch.
However, since Princess Ninaaru had swiftly pressed herself flat against the corner wall, she went undiscovered.

“What’s that?” called out one of the bandits.

“I heard a noise and thought someone else had come, but it was just my imagination,” replied Arlai.

At that moment, the red-bearded bandit asked, “What’ll we do with that brat?”

“If you toss him in there, he’ll either become rat food or starve to death. Either way, my secret won’t get out. I’ll hand over Buretsu to you all. Since there’s no more work here, I’ll cut my losses and leave this castle for good.”

“But it’s a waste to just let him croak,” said the bandit. “How ’bout makin’ him a hostage? We could squeeze fifty—no, a hundred ryō outta this! Why not sell ’im to me?”

“Yeah, that’s a smart move,” replied Arlai. “So—how much you offerin’?”

“How ’bout five ryō?”

Arlai sneered. “You think I’d hand ’im over for pocket coins? That brat’s gonna be King of Kashar in Mongolia—hell, the Great Mongol King himself someday! We’re takin’ him as collateral. Even at rock bottom, he’s worth ten thousand ryō!”

“Let’s just say I’ll take half that story with a grain of salt.”
“Anyway—how much’ll you part with him for?”

“I’d like to say a thousand ryō, but I’ll slash it down to a hundred.”

“Too damn high! Make it fifty ryō!”

“Ain’t happenin’. Take it or leave it.”
“Don’t like it? Then drop it.”

Princess Ninaaru gnashed her teeth upon hearing this conversation.
The wicked groom Arlai had stolen her beloved horse Buretsu and made a deal to sell it to the bandits—then captured Prince Jiura, who’d carelessly entered the tower—intending to sell him as a hostage.

“Ah, if only I had given Prince Jiura that pistol—I could have shot Arlai and the two bandits dead right away and saved him.”

Princess Ninaaru instinctively reached into her bosom and touched the dagger’s hilt.

“Just like Takumaru did—lie in wait at the entrance and stab them one by one in the chest with this,” she thought. But they were three grown men, and she was just one small girl. If she failed, that would spell real trouble. Princess Ninaaru, who was not only courageous but also exceptionally wise, instead of undertaking such a perilous act, devised a safer alternative and stealthily watched what Arlai and the bandits were doing.

The villains, unaware of this, continued haggling over Prince Jiura’s price until they finally settled on fifty ryō. Arlai accepted the payment, while one bandit remained behind to stand guard, and the other left to gather his comrades and return to collect both the purchased goods and Prince Jiura.

IV. The Treacherous Groom

After Arlai and one bandit had left the tower, Princess Ninaaru likewise slipped out stealthily and ran back to the castle.

At the castle, a great commotion had arisen due to Princess Ninaaru and Prince Jiura having vanished from sight. When Princess Ninaaru suddenly reappeared, her father was overjoyed and—

“Oh, Ninaaru?” he chided gently.
“Where have you been wandering in the dead of night?”
“Must you make me worry so?”
“This tomboyishness of yours needs tempering.”
“And where is Jiura—”

Princess Ninaaru deliberately composed herself,

“Father, I have something very important to discuss regarding that.”
“Just come to the hall for a moment, please.”
When they came to the hall, Princess Ninaaru lowered her voice and said, “Well, it’s something very serious.”

“What’s so serious?”

“Prince Jiura is about to be kidnapped by bandits!”

“Huh?! What are you talking about?”

“Moreover, he’s stolen my Buretsu—and tomorrow she’ll be sold off!”

“Who’s selling?”

“Arlai is.”

“You haven’t lost your mind, have you?”

“No,” said Princess Ninaaru, and she briefly summarized everything that had happened so far.
Then Marquis Carra flew into a rage and tried to summon Arlai immediately, but Princess Ninaaru stopped him.

“First, please send soldiers to Lama Tower and secure it so the bandits can’t get in or out from either side.”
“If those inside find out, they might kill Prince Jiura. So later we’ll go in, subdue the bandits there with a clever strategy, and rescue him.”
“But before that, summon the garrison commander here to explain matters and have him bring two or three soldiers. Then order Stablemaster Urappu to bring Arlai to this place.”

Princess Ninaaru’s arrangements were as thoroughly executed as those of an exemplary police chief. Her father was so thoroughly impressed that he did exactly as she instructed. Arlai had no inkling his misdeeds had reached his master’s ears; having just returned from his wicked errand, he regarded this late-night summons with suspicion and unease.

Marquis Aichan-Carra raised his eyebrows and rebuked Arlai in a thunderous voice when he entered the hall.

“You shameless wretch! You made a deal to sell your master’s horses to bandits, abducted Jiura to hand him over as a hostage—you’ve done nothing but evil deeds, and we know every single one of them!”

Arlai was so startled that his face turned pale.
But brazen to the end, he continued grinning slyly

“What are you saying?”
“Such absurd nonsense!”
“It must be someone jealous of me who said such things.”

“Quit your nonsense, idiot!” Princess Ninaaru interjected from the side.
“I saw and heard everything you all were doing and saying inside the tower.”

“Heh heh heh. The Princess must be dreaming.”

While saying that, Arlai walked stealthily toward the doorway.

“Silence!” roared Marquis Carra, suddenly snatching a whip from the wall and striking Arlai’s head twice with a crack! crack!

“Damn you!” Arlai cried out, and in that instant, something glinted in his hand. He drew the dagger he had been concealing and lunged at Marquis Carra.

“Not so fast! The wholesaler won’t let that slide!” Urappu firmly pinned down his hand from behind.

“Ha ha ha! No use struggling! You’re just a fledgling eagle with unformed wings—still wet behind the ears! You’re too green to pull off such audacious acts!”

Arlai’s face turned bright red as he struggled desperately to wrench his hand free, but he couldn’t break loose. On his forehead, the mark from the whip that had just struck him clung grotesquely.

At that moment, the door opened, and the garrison commander entered with two soldiers.
When he saw that, Arlai mustered all his strength to shake off Urappu’s grip and, in the blink of an eye, leaped onto the window ledge, standing upright on its protruding edge.
Below was a steep cliff about twenty meters high, its base a bottomless abyss.
Yet the audacious Arlai glared back at those present and brandished his glinting dagger,

“Parent and child, remember this well. You’ll see just how terrifying Lord Arlai’s revenge will be!”

The garrison commander immediately drew a pistol from the holster at his waist. But by the instant a tremendous *Bang!* erupted from his hand, Arlai’s figure had already plunged *with a splash* into the deep abyss.

“Blast! Did I let him escape? To think he wouldn’t jump from such a place—that was my negligence. But with the current being so swift, he won’t survive.”

The garrison commander consoled himself, then turned to Marquis Carra and,
“Your Excellency, if only you hadn’t used the whip and had instead struck off that devil’s head right away, it would have been far better!”
“No—cutting someone like that would only soil the blade.”

As he said this, the Marquis broke the whip into two and flung the pieces away separately.

V. Trapped Rats

In Lama Tower, a bandit remained behind on guard.
He was waiting for the leader to come with two or three subordinates to pick him up.

Then, after a short while, outside, there seemed to be signs of people, and the sound of rustling grass could be heard.

“Hmm, if they’ve come to get me, it’s a bit early!” the bandit tilted his head in puzzlement.

“Perhaps someone from the castle has come searching for that child.”

The bandit hurriedly extinguished the light to avoid being spotted.
At this very moment, in fact, armed soldiers had stealthily surrounded the tower under Princess Ninaaru’s command.
Then, after some time had passed, the distinct footsteps of two or three people were heard this time.

“They’re here! The Boss is finally here!”

The bandit, delighted, lit the lamp again.
And in a low voice, he asked, “Boss?”
By then, the footsteps had already drawn very near.

“Yeah, kept you waiting, huh?” answered a deep voice from the darkness.
Even though that was strange, the bandit inside didn’t notice.

“Step out to the entrance for a moment,” the voice said.

“Heeey… Right away! Will you take the hostage with you as well?”

“No—just you will do.”

The bandit, holding a lit candle in his hand, took one step out the doorway when suddenly someone tripped his feet, and he fell there with a thud.

At that moment, the flashlight’s light dazzled his eyes.
And by the time he thought it was over, his hands had already been tightly bound behind his back.

“Ha ha ha! You’ve been neatly lured out.”
“With this handled, His Highness Prince Jiura will be safe,” said the garrison commander.
“Indeed, it’s truly terrifying how Her Highness Princess Ninaaru notices absolutely everything.”
“Since nets have also been set up outside, if any bandits come, we’ll capture them immediately.”

Before his words had even finished, intense gunfire erupted outside the tower, accompanied by shouts and the sound of running footsteps.
Then, after two or three more gunshots rang out and ceased, four or five black figures came running toward the tower.

“Who’s there?”

The garrison commander went out to the entrance and shouted.

“Friends!” a voice called out. “Commander, sir. Since the bandits resisted, we shot them all,” he said.

“Good. Take the ones captured here to the castle. I’ll interrogate them later.”

VI. The Buddha Statue’s Secret

Princess Ninaaru turned on her flashlight, took the lead, and entered the room where Arlai and the bandits had earlier conducted their nefarious dealings. However, Prince Jiura’s figure was nowhere to be seen. Not only was there no sign of the Prince—there wasn’t a single living thing, not even a mouse. On the far wall of the rather spacious room stood only three large wooden Lama Buddhist statues.

“Oh, His Highness Prince Jiura is nowhere to be seen,” said the garrison commander in a disappointed tone.

“Hmm, he’s not here. What could have happened?” Marquis Carra said worriedly. “Could it be Ninaaru’s mistake?”

“No, the villains were definitely in this room.”
“There’s no mistake about it.”
“However, we don’t see Prince Jiura anywhere, but since Arlai said he was hidden somewhere, let’s search.”

“But there’s nowhere to hide here, is there? They’ve probably confined him in another room.”

“No—if they were just detaining him temporarily, there’s no reason they’d go out of their way to take the trouble of moving him to another pitch-dark room. There must be a secret entrance somewhere in this room. I’ll try calling him—Prince Jiura! Prince Jiura!”

Princess Ninaaru kept calling out, but there was no answer. It was as if someone were speaking down a well—the sound merely echoed off the high ceiling.

Everyone kept shining flashlights, torches, candles, and the like on the walls and ceiling, searching intently for any secret entrance or exit, but nothing of the sort could be found. So everyone was at a loss.

And then, at that moment, Princess Ninaaru suddenly shouted.

“I’ve got it.”
“There!”
“Right there!”

The Princess’s finger was pointing at the floor.
There, on dust piled several inches high, large footprints from Chinese-style boots were scattered, leading toward the side of the Lama Buddha statue.

“That Buddha statue is suspicious!”

Princess Ninaaru pointed at the rightmost Buddha statue and followed the footprints.

“So you’re saying that if it’s suspicious, Jiura is hidden inside this Buddha statue or something?” Marquis Carra followed Princess Ninaaru and looked up at the statue.

Thereupon, the garrison commander came and tried pushing and knocking around the pedestal of the Buddha statue with his hands, but it didn’t budge an inch.

“It seems, Your Highness, your thinking may be mistaken this time.”

“No!” Princess Ninaaru shook her head firmly.
“There’s no mistake.
Look, compare this Buddha statue with the others.
At a glance, you should see the difference.”

However, in both the commander’s eyes and Marquis Carra’s, it was nothing more than the same bizarre, ugly, and seemingly terrifying Lama Buddha statue as the others.

“Can’t you see? Look at this,” Princess Ninaaru said, making a motion as if stroking down from around the statue’s knee to below its pedestal. “You see? Only here has the dust been cleared away, forming stripes. The other Buddha statues are completely covered in dust—they don’t have such stripes. This proves someone tampered with this statue.”

“Ah, I’m thoroughly impressed,” said the garrison commander as he bowed his head. “Your Highness’s eyes are remarkably sharp.”

“I see, Ninaaru, you are remarkable. But where in the Buddha statue is Jiura hidden?”

“Well, I don’t know whether he’s inside the Buddha statue or somewhere else. But you can see a small shiny stone next to where those stripes end on its belly. I think pressing that might open a secret door somewhere—perhaps. I remember Her mother once told me that Lama Buddha statues have such mechanisms.”

The garrison commander immediately climbed onto the Buddha statue's pedestal and pressed the shiny stone. With a creak, the statue began moving forward, leaving behind a single person-sized hole that opened in the floor.

“Prince Jiura!” Princess Ninaaru shouted as she shone her flashlight into the hole and peered inside.
“Prince Jiura, hold on!
“We’ve come to help you!”

Prince Jiura had collapsed limply and fallen inside the hole, so the garrison commander immediately lifted him up and laid him on the floor, whereupon Princess Ninaaru placed her hand over his mouth to check if he was still breathing,

“Prince Jiura! Prince Jiura! Stay strong!”
“It’s me—Ninaaru!”

Princess Ninaaru called out worriedly.
However, Prince Jiura neither opened his eyes nor moved.
Even the brave and wise Princess Ninaaru was, after all, a young girl.
By now her voice had become tearful,

“Father, what should we do? If Prince Jiura were to die like this, it would be as if I killed him. Please do something! Hurry, hurry!”

“No—if we let Jiura die, it wouldn’t just be your responsibility. It would be mine as well. Quickly take him to the castle and have Dr. Matsumoto treat him.”

Prince Jiura was immediately taken to the castle and examined by Dr. Matsumoto, the Japanese physician in service to the Marquis. There was no particular injury or ailment—he had simply fainted from shock, so he soon regained consciousness.

Princess Ninaaru, who had been sitting by the bedside and worrying, finally felt relieved, but even so, with tears in her eyes, she said.

“Prince Jiura, I’m sorry.”
“I’ll never make you go through something like a test of courage or such danger ever again.”
“I really was foolish.”
“But you must grow stronger from now on and become a hero like Genghis Khan, all right?”

Prince Jiura nodded, his gaunt, pallid face flushing with earnest intensity.