text: Two groups stood in a clearing on the bank of the cool Yoshino River. A tall, thin man with a strong hawk nose and brooding eyes looked on as the men argued. In the background, women with unbound hair stood watch over the quarrel. Satsuki knelt by a small camellia bush, watching its buds, then raised her eyes with a wistful look to Yoshino Hill, which rose above them. Midori, kneeling beside her on her goza mat, rested a hand on Satsuki's arm.
  
  "Please do not worry, Elder Sister. Our leader, Daisangyoja, will not bow down to these..." She indicated the opposing group, far smaller than their own, by a toss of her shapely chin.
  
  Satsuki turned her head curiously. "Oh, of course," she said indifferently. "I was actually sighing because of our loss."
  
  Midori looked at her with troubled eyes. "Loss?"
  
  "Yes. We will not get to see the hundred thousand cherry trees bloom." She indicated the wooded hillside with a sweep of her full sleeve.
  
  Midori was perplexed. "The argument does not concern you?"
  
  "Of course not, my dear. The men will settle it among themselves, and we will do whatever is necessary. Come, we must think of this camellia. Will its blossoms complement the scene, do you think?"
  
  Midori bit her lip. Osatsuki was so strange; her actions were incomprehensible. Undoubtedly though, the men would settle the affair, and she knew she could trust Daisangyoja, their leader.
  
  The two groups of men were fingering their sword hilts nervously. Tsuneyoshi, who was slightly to the rear, dried his hands on the deerskin that hung behind him and served him as a seat in the wilds. He did not care to fight other yamabushi, but Master Daisangyoja was right. He had led them here, and his awe-inspiring words brought proof that salvation was near at hand. The poor, deluded fools of the Tozan-ha sect who opposed him here would see their error when the time came for him to perform his miraculous prayers. In the meantime though, lesser leaders shouted and argued precedence on the route to the holy mountains. The Tozan-ha could not stop them, nor could any priest, nor warrior, nor any man. Daisangyoja was the heir of En-no-Gyoja, founder of the yamabushi and initiator of mountain pilgrimage. Daisangyoja's spells were so powerful that all demons fled before them. He was capable of the most awesome austerities and his prowess as a leader was unquestionable. Why then did the misled ascetics of the Tozan-ha refuse to accept his innovations and his leadership? It was a puzzle to Tsuneyoshi.
  
  The hawk-faced man, who had stood silently while the argument waxed, stamped his ring-topped stave on the ground once. The dispute ended as if cut by a knife. Even the Tozan-ha opponents, impressed by Daisangyoja's mien, stood waiting. He strode forward.
  
  "I am Daisangyoja, the Supreme Vision of all ascetics. I am before you. Please see me as I am now. In days to come I will be transformed. Before your very eyes." His voice was melodious, powerful, almost hypnotic. Men and women listened to him. Even though his words were arrogant, his tone was such that no one could doubt his power or sincerity.
  
  "I and my people will go up to the mountains. We will prepare ourselves by the usual methods. In addition I will perform another magic—one not performed since the olden days. Doing so I will be transformed, and so will those with me. I will eat pine needles and I will be reborn in this life. Come with me into the mountains." He turned and strode to the river, shedding his clothing as he walked. His own people followed unhesitatingly. A small number of the Tozan-ha members followed hesitant suit. Some of the Tozan-ha hurried off, possibly to inform their fellows. The vast majority stood its ground.
  
  Midori tugged at Satsuki's sleeve. "Come, we must bathe," she said. "We are not permitted on the mountain, but even those of us who are left behind must be cleansed." The yamabushi and their few women, the men in their white loincloths, the women in red petticoats, marched into the chilled waters. Satsui felt her nipples pucker with the cold. The water was not freezing, merely colder than she liked. She dipped the ritual three times, the rocks in the riverbed making her footing uneven and threatening her poise. She looked at her broodingly for a long time. She bowed gracefully. Beside her Midori drew in an audible breath, but the master ignored her. His hooded eyes seemed to look deep into Satsuki's soul. There was something inhuman about his gaze. She felt he was not interested in her, in her sex, in anything she had to offer. He was examining her for some quality she might possibly have, but he had no interest in her as a person.
  
  They emerged dripping from the water into the hot afternoon sun. Tsuneyoshi was at her elbow. He bowed and approached Daisangyoja.
  
  "This is your new woman? The one you told me about?" asked the master.
  
  Tsuneyoshi indicated assent.
  
  Daisangyoja looked at her one last time. "I will try her and see. Perhaps she is the one we are waiting for. If not... we will have to wait again." He strode off without another word.