by I. J. Parker
Mrs Hamada trotted over to the fence.
‘That miserable cur got loose and went after my chickens again,’ she said immediately.
Tora swallowed down his anger and asked, ‘Where’s Hanae?’
‘Hanae waited the best part of the morning for you. Finally, Lord Sadanori sent a sedan chair for her. She said she’d be back as quick as possible.’
‘When?’
‘How should I know?’ Mrs Hamada added slyly, ‘Some gentlemen show a pretty young woman a lot more respect than you do. She may decide to spend the night.’
Tora glared. ‘That’s a lie. She’s to be a nursemaid to one of the children.’
Mrs Hamada cackled. ‘You’re a fool, Tora. Hanae’s much too pretty for any lady to hire as a nurse.’
‘And you’re an evil-mouthed hag,’ Tora snapped. ‘And something else: next time stay away from my property. It’s cowardly to beat a poor dumb animal that can’t defend itself.’
She flushed with anger. ‘Good riddance to you and that monster,’ she cried. ‘He killed one of my chickens, and you’d better pay for it.’
‘I don’t believe you. Where is it?’
‘It’s in the soup. Poor people can’t afford to give a chicken a proper funeral.’
‘Then I hope you choke on it.’ Tora turned away in disgust.
She cursed after him as he walked away.
Tora’s anger at Akitada faded. Now he was sick with worry. The neighbor had an evil tongue, but Tora was beginning to doubt the nursemaid story himself. He did not like the idea of the sedan chair. Being too edgy to wait in the little house, and not wanting to leave the dog to Mrs Hamada’s cruel care, he cut a length of rope, looped it loosely about the dog’s sore neck, and got back on his horse.
It was dusk when they reached the Sugawara residence.
Genba let them in, looking anxious when he did not see Akitada.
‘He’s spending the night in Otsu,’ Tora said. ‘With a small boy.’
‘With a small boy? What’s going on? Why are you looking like that?’
Tora did not answer. He dismounted and took the horse to the well to water it. Then he tied the dog to a tree.
‘Whose dog is that?’ Genba asked, his voice a little louder. ‘And the horse looks worn out.’
Tora sagged down on the well rim and put his head in his hands. Where was Hanae? How could he find her? And what was he going to do about Akitada? He had walked out of the inn room in Otsu too angry to think straight.
‘Tora?’
He looked up at Genba. ‘I’ve made a mess of it, brother. But the devil only knows what a man is to do in my case. The master wouldn’t let me get a message to Hanae, and now she’s gone, the gods only know where. I was supposed to question people in Otsu, but instead I went home to Hanae. The dog’s name’s Trouble. He’s mine. Our neighbor beats him, so I couldn’t leave him there.’
‘Trouble?’ Genba’s eyes grew round as he worked through this garbled response and grasped the salient part. ‘You left the master in Otsu? Without telling him? That’s not good. What’s this about a boy?’
Tora rubbed a hand across his eyes and told Genba what had happened at the Mimuras.
Genba’s face lengthened. ‘But that means the master still has the gold with him. And you left him to ride back with all that gold, and with a small child, on an injured horse?’ Genba’s voice rose with anxiety. ‘How could you? You’ve sworn to serve and protect him.’
Tora grasped his head again. ‘I know, I know. I meant to go back as soon as I talked to Hanae. But what am I to do now? She’s gone. Abducted. Hanae’s my wife, and she’s going to have my child. I just thought she needed me more than he did. He’s got his sword. And he should’ve let me explain. Genba, what good is my life if I’m not allowed to look after my own?’
Genba shook his head and sat down beside him. ‘I’d go myself,’ he said, ‘but somebody’s got to look after Her Ladyship and the house.’
‘I have to find Hanae.’
‘What happened?’
Tora explained his suspicions about Lord Sadanori and how she had been taken away in a sedan chair.
Genba brightened. ‘It’s probably nothing. If she says she’s to be a nursemaid, then that’s what she was hired for. She’ll be back later or tomorrow and tell you all about her visit. You need to go back to Otsu.’
Tora shook his head. ‘I’ve a bad feeling about this. Something’s wrong. I wish I knew where to look for her. If she’s been abducted, she’s not going to be in Uji.’
In the end, Akitada was arrested. He even had to bear the humiliation of having his hands tied with a constable’s thin chain and his feet hobbled so he could not run away. The latter would not have happened if he had not made the mistake of snatching up his sword to keep the warden from taking the boy. Raising a weapon against a duly appointed officer of the law while he was carrying out his duty was so serious an offense that Akitada’s rank did not protect him from the ensuing indignities. In any case, the sword was as useless as his arm after one of the constables had disarmed him by delivering a sharp blow with his iron rod.
During the night, which Akitada spent on the floor of one of the cells, his forearm became swollen and throbbed. He slept fitfully, in pain and sick about having been forced to abandon the child again to the vengeful fury of the Mimura family. He was also afraid that Tora would not come back.
Warden Takechi came to see him in the morning. Akitada did not bother to rise. He answered the other man’s greeting with a harsh, ‘I shall see you prosecuted by the law if anything else happens to that child. After I told you about the Mimuras, I expected you to make certain the boy was safe.’
Warden Takechi raised a hand. ‘He spent the night with my family. It was too late to make other arrangements, but my wife will look after him until the matter is settled.’
Akitada got to his feet. ‘Sorry, Warden, I did you an injustice. That was good of you and your wife. What happens next?’
‘The boy’s in the office. Would you like to see him? To make sure he’s all right?’
‘Of course.’
In the office, another surprise awaited him. The youngster who had been arrested for the theft of the matron’s silk was waiting with a short elderly woman. The woman held the boy by the hand. When the child saw Akitada, he turned his head away.
Akitada’s heart sank. He went to the boy and said, ‘I’m so glad to see you well this morning.’ The child hid his face in the woman’s skirt. It was a moment before Akitada remembered to greet the youth. ‘I’m afraid I don’t know your name,’ he said.
‘Manjiro, sir. This is my mother, Mrs Yozaemon. We heard about your troubles and came to see if we could help.’
Akitada was touched. Here he was, a prisoner in Otsu, without a friend or servant, and these two strangers had cared enough to come to him. ‘You honor me,’ he said, choking a little, and bowed to both of them. The mother bowed more deeply and began to thank him. Akitada interrupted her. ‘Thank you for coming, but I hope to settle this ugly matter quickly and return home with the boy.’ He looked at the child again, but met only a baleful stare.
The woman said, ‘Poor little tyke,’ and stroked the child’s hair.
‘At the moment he’s in the warden’s care. I’m worried that he may be returned to the people who tormented him.’
‘We could take him for a while, your honor,’ she said shyly. ‘I’m alone except for Manjiro, and the child would be company when Manjiro’s working. I don’t get about much because of my bad back.’ She paused. ‘We’re poor, but my little house is as clean as I can keep it. We eat simple food, but he would never go hungry.’
Akitada looked at the warden, who nodded. ‘I don’t see why not. Until we know what happened to the child. The parents have a claim on the boy, you know.’
‘ If they are his parents,’ said Akitada. ‘And even then, I believe they have lost the right to this child. I’ll pay Mrs Yozaemon for his care, but I have only
a few silver coins and coppers on me. My saddlebags are at the inn.’
Mrs Yozaemon said, ‘Oh, you don’t have to pay us. Not after what you did for Manjiro.’
‘Thank you, but I insist.’
The warden pointed to a corner of his office. ‘Your things have been brought. The innkeeper wanted the room for other guests.’
The man had been in a hurry to get rid of his notorious guest. ‘What about my horse? He is valuable, and I have no intention of losing him. And what happened to my servant, Tora? He was supposed to return to the inn last night.’
Tora was accused of a brutal attack on Mrs Mimura, and so the constables had scoured the town for him, Akitada learned. They had given up when a groom from the inn reported that he had left Otsu on horseback shortly before Akitada’s arrest. Only Akitada’s horse remained in the inn’s stable.
This blow was unexpectedly painful for Akitada. Tora had abandoned him without so much as an explanation or a farewell. Distracted, he looked at the boy again, perhaps in the hope that the child would somehow make up for it. But he turned his head away again. Why was he angry? What had Akitada done apart from trying to save him – and suffering dire consequences for a simple act of charity? He cradled his swollen arm and ground out, ‘So what is next?’
‘You’ll remain our guest,’ the warden said, ‘until the case can be heard.’
‘I want to speak to the judge now,’ Akitada countered.
Warden Takechi scratched his head, but agreed that he would see what could be done.
At least the boy seemed to like Mrs Yozaemon and Manjiro. Akitada went to his saddlebag to pay her. The warden caught a glimpse of the gold, and he had to explain that he had meant to pay the Mimuras for the child.
Warden Takechi looked shocked. ‘You’d give that much for the child?’ Akitada flushed at the implication. The warden shook his head, ‘If he finds out what he missed, Mimura will beat that stupid wife of his.’
Mrs Yozaemon and her son departed with five gold pieces and some loose silver, taking the boy with them, and Akitada bent his mind to solving his predicament. He hoped to convince the judge to release him. The warden had no such authority, but a judge could make exceptions for men of rank. One problem was the ‘fugitive’ Tora. Unless Akitada could produce his ‘partner in crime’, the judge might balk at letting him leave.
He returned to his cell to pace and brood over Tora’s desertion. Tora was no humble and obedient servant, but he had always been loyal. Akitada was angry and hurt that he had been left in a cell, with an injured arm, under the eyes of three constables, who stared at him periodically through the opening in the cell door.
Tora’s rebellion must have something to do with his newest girlfriend. Had Akitada missed some clue there? Doubts began to plague him. Perhaps he should have listened to Tora. But forgiving him was an altogether different matter. This time Tora had gone too far.
The warden returned with a soberly dressed corpulent gentleman he introduced as Judge Nakano.
Nakano looked at him and frowned. ‘Surely,’ he said to the warden, ‘this confinement is not necessary. I doubt Lord Sugawara would run off like a common criminal. Take us to a private room.’
A more hopeful Akitada was soon seated across from Nakano in a small back room where the warden stored his documents. But if he had thought that this promising beginning would lead to a rapid dismissal of the charges against him, he was disappointed.
Nakano stared at him for quite a while before he said, ‘I am afraid the charges are serious. Very serious. We have had such cases before. Apparently, there is a call for small children – boys, I should say – in some circles in the capital.’ He made a face. ‘So far the villains have been common criminals. Yours is a peculiar case.’
Akitada, who by now had a very good notion of what he was being accused of, snapped, ‘I have no idea what you are talking about. I found this child a few days ago. He was wet, hungry, cold, and apparently lost. I bought him food and dry clothing, and when his alleged parents finally remembered him, I returned him to them with a gift of money to take care of him. Today, I found him tied by his neck like a dog behind their house. He was bruised and cut from a recent beating. My money had been spent on new clothes for Mrs Mimura and heaven knows what else. I was outraged and took the child away with me. That’s all.’
‘Hmm. The parents maintain you stole the boy from their village and spent the night with him in the Inn of Happy Returns.’
‘I found the boy on the highway.’
‘But you spent the night with him?’
‘What else should I have done? Abandoned him in the street in the rain?’
‘But then you went back to get him again, and again you took him to the inn. Why did you come back for the boy? Warden Takechi says you intended to buy him. For what purpose?’
Realizing belatedly the unfortunate name of the inn, Akitada flushed. ‘I lost my son this past spring,’ he said stiffly. ‘It pained me to see another boy mistreated.’
‘Hmm.’ The judge regarded Akitada fixedly. Silence fell. Nakano clearly did not believe that a man of Akitada’s rank would bother to adopt the ragged, deaf-mute child of a fisherman.
‘You are charging the Mimuras?’ Nakano began again. ‘With what?’
‘Torturing the child. Stealing him. Taking my money under false pretenses.’
Nakano considered. ‘The last one might work. Dubious, though. I think you’d better drop the charges and hope the Mimuras are willing to forget your behavior in return for some payment for their pain and suffering.’
Akitada fumed. ‘Absolutely not! What about the child’s pain and suffering? And what will become of him?’
Nakano sighed. ‘This cannot be very good for your reputation, sir.’
‘Let me worry about my reputation.’
They glared at each other. Nakano looked away first and said, ‘You are senior secretary in the Ministry of Justice?’
‘Yes.’
‘It would be quite wrong to hold you here, under the circumstances. On the other hand, we must make certain that you will attend your trial. Feelings in the community run high in this case. Shall we announce that you will deposit a certain sum in gold as surety for your return?’
Relief washed over Akitada. ‘How much?’
Nakano pursed his lips and then mentioned an amount that was surprisingly close to what Akitada had in his saddlebag.
Akitada agreed.
Nakano rose and bowed. ‘Delighted to make your acquaintance, My Lord,’ he said. ‘I trust we shall meet again when the time comes to clear up this matter to everyone’s satisfaction.’
Akitada got up, too. ‘What about the boy? I am anxious to have custody of him.’ Seeing Nakano’s lips tighten, he added quickly, ‘To take him home to my wife.’
‘Impossible.’
Akitada clenched his fists. For all he knew, he had made the boy’s fate worse. ‘Can he remain with the people who are caring for him now?’
‘Why should he not be returned to his parents?’
‘Because they beat him. If you return the child to the Mimuras, I’m convinced he will die before the cases can be heard.’
‘Surely you exaggerate.’
‘No. And I will not leave Otsu until the child is safe. In fact, if I hear that he is being returned to the Mimuras, I shall be back. With reinforcements. And I shall use my influence in the capital to investigate how children are treated in Otsu and its surroundings and what measures have been taken by the authorities to protect them. I gather from what you said that this district has a history of crimes against children.’
Nakano opened his mouth and closed it again. Drawing himself up, he said stiffly, ‘I invite such an investigation, sir. In my view, children belong with their parents. But in this case, I will permit a temporary – mind you, temporary – arrangement until we know where we stand. I trust you will not try to see him in the meantime?’
Akitada bowed. ‘Thank you. That is all I ask.’
Akitada returned to the capital, poorer by the gold he had carried to Otsu, and without the child.
SEVEN
The House on the Uji River
Tora did not return to Otsu. His fear for Hanae and his unborn child outweighed everything else. Akitada, who was armed, was well able to defend himself, while Hanae was helpless.
Too ashamed to tell either Seimei or Tamako, he left on foot. He had lost the right to use Akitada’s property. He stopped at their little house, hoping against hope that Hanae had returned. She had not, and he set out for Uji.
Without money to rent a post horse, he fell into a steady pace walking south on the Nara highway. Night fell quickly, and most travelers on the road were headed for their homes in the capital. He scrutinized each sedan chair he met. Once or twice he got in trouble for lifting a curtain to look inside.
The road was lined with pines, snaked away towards black mountains.
Taking the extraordinary and painful step of leaving his master had been much like cutting off his arm or leg, and his stomach still twisted at it. That bond had been made for life. He had walked away from a debt he could never repay and made a lie of the solemn oath of loyalty. By all the rules he lived by, he was dishonored.
He no longer blamed Akitada. As his master, he had a right to expect unquestioning loyalty and obedience.
Tired and discouraged, he was tempted to lie down under a tree to sleep for a few hours, but his worries about Hanae had increased a hundred-fold. She should have been home a long time ago. He thought again of Sadanori’s reputation and of Hanae’s beauty and popularity. Sending a sedan chair was an unlikely courtesy towards a prospective servant, and Mrs Hamada’s opinion that no wife would tolerate such a beautiful maid or nurse in her household gnawed at him.