The Emperor's woman

by I. J. Parker

  “You’re late, sir,” he said. “I’ve been waiting. Lord Masaie and his son are both at their residence.”

  “Yes. The minister told me the son lost his post in the guard. I thought you’d be meeting with Bashan.”

  “Saburo went. Their lordships will be in a foul mood.”

  “I don’t feel very good about this myself.”

  “It’s a terrible thing if he did it. A terrible thing!”

  “Yes.”

  They were silent for a span, then Akitada sighed. “Well, we might as well go.”

  They walked together through the streets. Tora kept one step behind. It was easy to converse this way, but they both remained quiet.

  The Minamoto residence was lit up, and the gates stood partly open. They were admitted and followed a servant into a reception room in the main house. Both of them felt tense. Tora paced, while Akitada weighed once again what he must tell Maseie.

  They knew Masaie had a bad temper, but neither of them wore a sword. Weapons were frowned upon when making calls on the nobility.

  Masaie came quickly, and Akitada was shocked to see the change in him. The big man seemed to have shrunk in the week since he had last seen him. His shoulders slumped, and his face was an unhealthy gray color.

  “What is it now?” he demanded in a tone that was at least reminiscent of past belligerence.

  “It is still about your daughter’s death,” Akitada said. “It is time you accepted that she was murdered.”

  Masaie stared at him, then gestured at Tora. “I won’t speak to you with your servant present.”

  Tora opened his mouth to protest, but Akitada said, “Wait for me outside. It’s all right.”

  Tora left reluctantly, and they sat down. Masaie ran a hand over his face. “Why do you trouble me again? What is her death to you?” he asked. “Do you think I care about your friend Kosehira? Or about the swine who seduced my child?”

  So Maseie had begun to grieve for his daughter after all. Akitada said more gently, “I think you care about her memory.”

  Masaie stiffened. “Her memory? Do you know what they called her? They called her the emperor’s woman! As if she’d been some harlot brought in from the streets or the brothels to amuse the Son of Heaven. My daughter! Masako is descended from emperors. Her bloodline is better than that of the Fujiwara hussy who is to become empress. The insult to my house is not to be borne.”

  For a moment, he was the old Masaie, Lord of Sagami, undisputed ruler over his lands and his clan.

  Akitada sighed. “I came to speak to the father, not to the clan chief. I was told you loved her.”

  Masaie turned his head away. “I loved her like my life. No, more than my life.”

  “When I was here last, you said she was dead to you already. Perhaps pushing her off a cliff wouldn’t have mattered much to you.”

  Masaie looked up. “You think I would do this?”

  “No. I thought so once, but I know better now.”

  Masaie paled, but he said nothing.

  After a moment, Akitada continued, “She was very lonely at court. Nobody liked her, His Majesty least of all.”

  Masaie remained silent.

  “She tried to obey you. It wasn’t her fault she didn’t find acceptance, but you turned your back on her in her misery. Her whole family turned against her. Is it any wonder she looked to Prince Atsuhira for support?”

  Masaie turned a ravaged face to Akitada. “How dare you? I can have my guards cut you down like a dog.”

  Ignoring this, Akitada continued, “Your daughter did not jump. Let me tell you what happened the night Masako died. She arrived at the villa in the afternoon of that winter day, expecting to meet the prince and accept his protection.” Masaie made a sudden move, but Akitada raised a hand. “No, let me finish. Your daughter was with child. Atsuhira’s child. He intended to make her his wife, but he was detained that night, though perhaps it wouldn’t have mattered. Someone else followed her up that mountain road, someone who had quarreled bitterly with her earlier that day. I’m not sure if he intended to kill her or the prince, but it doesn’t matter. Her killer was riding a dark horse with a white blaze on its forehead. The caretaker mistook his horse for the prince’s. I don’t know what happened in the villa, but there must have been another quarrel. I found signs of violence, a few blood stains, some long hairs, and a few blue silk threads from the gown she wore. I think the killer struck her with one of the wooden staffs kept in the room. Perhaps he thought he had killed her and panicked. In any case, he carried her to the promontory, where he pushed her over the edge, hoping people would believe she had committed suicide. That is what happened.”

  Masaie had listened with his head lowered. He sat very still.

  In the silence, the opening of the door sounded like a thunderclap. Both men started.

  Masanaga closed the door behind him and walked toward them. His face was flushed, hi eyes bloodshot, and beads of perspiration glistened on his face. He wore his sword, and his right hand gripped it. His eyes fixed on Akitada. In a shaking voice, he said, “It’s a story you’ve made up. Another lie.” His voice broke, then rose. “It’s nothing but lies. I warned you!” The hand on the sword shook convulsively.

  Akitada said calmly, “It’s no lie. Yes, you tried to warn me away and then attempted to kill me when I got too close to the truth.”

  In the silence, only Masanaga’s heavy breathing could be heard.

  Then Masaie staggered to his feet and took a step toward his son. “We’ll speak later. Get out now,” he said, his voice hard and final.

  Masanaga hesitated a moment, then turned and left.

  Akitada also got up, gritting his teeth. His body still resented sudden moves. He said, “I brought your daughter’s diary so you should read what your ambition caused.” Taking the journal from his sleeve, he extended it to Masaie.

  For a moment, he thought the big man would dash it from his fingers, but then Masaie took it with a trembling hand. He opened it, and tears began to well up in his eyes.

  “I’ll leave you now, my Lord,” said Akitada.

  There was no answer, and he walked out.

  He was half afraid that Masanaga would lie in wait for him, but the anteroom was empty, and Tora waited at the outer door.

  When they were back on the street, Tora said, “What happened? I saw the son go in and almost followed.”

  “Not much. I returned Lady Masako’s journal to her father.”

  “Weren’t you supposed to give it to her companion?”

  “A grieving father has a greater right.”

  “Even if he killed her?”

  “He didn’t kill her, Tora. I brought him more terrible news.”

  “What? I don’t understand anything. I thought you meant to accuse Lord Masaie of murdering his daughter.”

  “I did think at one time he was guilty, but there was someone else who had a stronger motive and fit the image of a killer much better.”

  Tora kicked at a rock on the street. “I’m a fool. I’ll never learn this business.”

  “You’re not a fool.”

  They walked in silence, Tora kicking more rocks from time to time. Suddenly he stopped. Akitada turned and saw a curious expression cross his face. “The cook,” Tora said. “She as much as told me.” He hit his forehead with his palm. “She didn’t like him either. She said he was bad.”

  Akitada watched him. “Well?”

  “The brother?”

  Akitada nodded. “Yes. Only three men could have known where she had gone, the prince, her father, and her brother. And whatever his character, the prince isn’t the type to commit such a violent act. We’ll know soon enough. I think Maseie already knew or suspected as much, and this time he will not forgive Masanaga.”

  For a moment Tora was silent. Then he said, “The cook did say the boy was always resentful because the father preferred his daughter. But it all feels so unfinished.”

  “Sometimes it’s better to stan
d back and allow events to correct themselves.”

  Loose Threads

  Saburo met them when they returned. He bowed formally to Akitada and said, “I regret to report, sir, that the man called Bashan did not come to the agreed meeting. I must assume he feared arrest and fled.”

  “Thank you, Saburo. It’s as good as a confession. Are you back to stay?”

  Saburo contorted his features into a smile. “Yes. And thank you and your lady.”

  Akitada liked that he made no apologies and spoke with self-assurance. He returned the smile. “Good. I was wrong to dismiss you without weighing your reasons and shall try to act more fairly in the future.”

  Saburo bowed again and headed off to the stable where they could hear hammering. “You aren’t taking his room, I hope?” Akitada asked Tora.

  “No, of course not.”

  As they watched, Trouble came out of the stable to greet Saburo. Saburo petted the dog and suddenly did a little jump and dance of joy that the dog joined in with a happy yelp.

  Tora chuckled, and Akitada heaved a deep sigh of contentment.

  After changing into his comfortable robe, Akitada went to report to his wife. He found her with Akiko.

  His sister glared at him. “There you are, you traitor. Why didn’t you take me along to see Maseie?”

  “Because it was too dangerous.”

  She pouted. “Evidently it was safe enough. What happened?”

  Akitada reported what he had told Maseie about Masanaga. Tamako looked subdued and shook her head, but Akiko cried, “You gave him Masako’s journal? How could you? You promised Lady Hiroko that you would return it.”

  “ You promised. I did no such thing. Her father has precedence. But there was another reason.”

  “Nonsense. He treated his daughter abominably.”

  “You’re right, and I thought it important to have him ponder his actions. For all his reprehensible behavior, Maseie really loved his daughter. He still loves her. In time he’ll come to understand his own role in her death.”

  Akiko snapped, “I doubt it. And what about the detestable Masanaga? You’ll just let him escape?”

  “Detestable, yes. But because of the delicacy of the situation, which involves His Majesty, he cannot be arrested and tried. I think his father had already realized what Masanaga did. We must wait and see what action he will take.”

  Tamako asked, “Will you inform Prince Atsuhira?”

  Akitada sighed. “I suppose I must. I no longer like him very much. He is as much to blame as Masaie and his son.”

  Akiko’s eyes flashed. “Men! All of them. Women will always be at their mercy. It will always be this way.”

  Lady Kishi had said something very similar. At the time she had astonished Akitada because she was one of the most powerful women in the country. He did not argue against his sister’s point. Not only Lady Masako’s fate, but also Genba’s story had made him very aware of the injustices suffered by women.

  Tamako saw his face and said, “Not all men are like that. Neither your husband nor mine nor your sister’s would treat their wives or daughters badly.”

  Akiko sniffed. “I for one shall always be on my guard.” She glowered at Akitada.

  He said humbly, “I’ll try to be a better brother, Akiko,” and smiled at her.

  “Well,” she said mollified, “I hope that means you’ll consult me on future cases.”

  Akitada and Tamako laughed.

  The following morning, Akitada emerged from the house on his way to the ministry. Another hot bath had eased his remaining aches and pains, and he felt quite well again.

  Waiting in the courtyard were Genba and a young woman. They stood side-by-side, smiling shyly and bowed very low. Genba straightened up, but the young woman remained bowing.

  “Sir,” said Genba, “I brought Ohiro to pay her respects. She promises to be faithful and work hard.”

  Akitada saw she was a sturdy-looking girl and would surely be a big help in his household, but that was not why she was here. He went up to them. “Welcome, Ohiro. Please feel at home here. We think much of your husband and are happy that you’re making him happy. He’s been far too lonely all these years.”

  She gave him a huge smile and bowed again. “Thank you,” she said softly. “Genba is very good to me.”

  Genba blushed. “It’s the other way around, sir.”

  “Have you introduced Ohiro to my wife?”

  “Not yet, sir. Should I?”

  So there was still some shame. Well, they couldn’t have that. “Come along,” Akitada said briskly and headed for Tamako’s pavilion.

  There the introductions went very well indeed, especially when Ohiro showed immediate affection for the children.

  Akitada departed for the ministry, feeling content in his world and satisfied with the way he had handled his domestic affairs.

  His good mood did not last. He still had to speak to Prince Atsuhira, and that was something he did not look forward to. He left the ministry early and walked to the prince’s palace. There he demanded to see the prince with important news.

  The servant returned, saying the master was seeing no one.

  Anger seized Akitada. How dare Atsuhira deny him after all he had done for him in the past and more recently. He said “Thank you,” in an icy tone, then walked past the servant and into the house. He knew the way to the prince’s room and strode ahead, followed by the protesting servant. Throwing open the door to the prince’s study, Akitada walked in and slammed it behind him.

  “Your man brought your message but I chose to ignore it,” he snapped. “We have some matters to discuss, and when I’m done I hope sincerely I’ll never have to trouble with you again.”

  Atsuhira, who looked pale and disheveled, stared up at him from a seat near a brazier. He was leaning on an armrest and had been reading. “I have nothing to say to you,” he said.

  “I have some things to say to you, so be quiet and listen.”

  Atsuhira opened and closed his mouth as if he were snapping for air but came up with nothing.

  “The murder of Lady Masako is solved. Her brother Masanaga found out she was leaving the palace to join you. No doubt, he realized this would mean the end to his own career, particularly since he had already made a bad name for himself. He went to speak to her at the palace, where they quarreled. Lady Masako noted this in her journal. It was her last entry. I think it was then Masanaga decided to kill you. He followed her to your villa, where they quarreled again and he struck her with one of your bo. He probably waited for you to arrive, but you were very late, and she may have regained consciousness. In any case, he panicked. He carried her to the promontory and pushed her over, hoping that her death would be taken for a suicide. Then he left.”

  The prince was pale and shuddered. “Masanaga murdered his own sister?”

  “Yes. According to her companion, she loved you and looked forward to raising your child. I’m curious. Why did you tell the superintendant that Lady Masako intended to end her life?”

  The prince frowned. “I don’t know. I don’t remember. I wasn’t myself.”

  “In her journal, she copied down a poem she had sent to you. It read, ‘I dream sweet dreams; but my sleeves are wet with tears. If I take the dark path alone, we will meet in paradise.’ By any chance, is that what you remembered when she was found?”

  “Yes. I was trying to account for what she had done.”

  “The poem is dated months earlier, at a time when she was distraught over her father’s anger. In other words, there never was any indication that Lady Masako intended to die that night at the villa, was there?”

  “Oh.” Atsuhira wept. “No, there wasn’t. Oh, what a relief! Thank you. Thank you for telling me. I have been in agony. I blamed myself.”

  Akitada said coldly, “As to that, you will know best what your responsibility was in seducing a young and inexperienced girl who was one of the emperor’s women. Your behavior is inexcusable in my eyes. I had
to intercede once before when one of your careless affairs nearly precipitated another succession scandal. Your uncle, the late Bishop Sesshin, asked for my help on that occasion. I had hoped you had learned your lesson then.”

  The prince dabbed at his eyes. “I see why you’re so angry at me,” he said. “But you must believe that I truly loved Masako. We couldn’t help ourselves. Our love was stronger than everything. I don’t want to be emperor, but the way my cousin treated Masako angered me. He didn’t deserve her.”

  Akitada glared at him. “So you shared your feelings about His Majesty with Kosehira and involved him. I expect you to go to the regent to clear his name, apologize for your behavior, and ask his help in settling the matter of the succession once and for all. You may wish to take vows afterward. Nothing short of becoming a monk will convince people that you don’t want to be emperor.” Without waiting for a response, Akitada turned and walked out.

  In the following weeks, life in the Sugawara family settled down. Saburo was once again installed as Akitada’s secretary. Genba and Ohiro moved into their new quarters in the stable, and Ohiro spent a good deal of her time in the kitchen where she attempted to teach Cook new ways to prepare foods. Cook had never been more than passable in her skills, and the household fare was uninspired. Now some very tasty dishes appeared. As a result of this interference, Cook departed in a huff to the secret joy of the members of the household. Ohiro took over her duties.

  Not long after this, his friend Kosehira returned to the capital, cleared of all suspicion and eager to celebrate with his friends and supporters. However, in spite of his contentment, Akitada felt restless.

  One morning, Tora voiced the reason for Akitada’s dissatisfaction. “You know, sir,” he said, “two people have died violently and nobody got punished. It doesn’t seem right.”

  Akitada nodded. “You’re right. It doesn’t. Not that we had any choice in the matter. Bashan, that slippery fellow, left no proof of what he’d done, and Lady Masako’s killer could not be revealed or arrested because it would have involved court matters. But it troubles me also.”