Black Arrow sa-4

by I. J. Parker

The old man set down the flaskand two cups along with a plate of pickles. “Are the gentlemen new in town?” he asked, peering at them from watery eyes,

  Tora tasted the wine. It was thick with sediment and sour. He put down his cup. “You guessed right, uncle.Looking for a place to stay Someone told us the inn over there is cheap, but there’s been a murder. We don’t like places where they kill the guests.” Heheld up the flask. “How about joining us in a cup?”

  “Thank you, thank you!” The oldman cast a furtive glance toward the old woman and produced a chipped cup fromhis sleeve. This Tora filled, and the old man drained it, smacking his lips and tucking the cup away again in the twinkling of an eye. “As for the Carp,” hesaid with a toothless grin. “It’s old Sato, the innkeeper, who was killed and the guests did it. Serves him right. The old skinflint puts up anything that crawls in off the road and has a few coppers. His poor wife’s been trying to spruce up the place and bring in a better clientele.” He cast a dubious glance at their rough clothes, his eyes lingering on Tora’s bearskin.

  Tora sampled the pickles and found them excellent, crisp and nicely spiced. He slipped off the bear skin and revealed a neat blue cloth jacket underneath.

  The old man looked relieved. “It’s been hard for that young woman,” he said, “running a place with such a husband. Like an ant dragging an anchor.”

  Tora grinned. “Well, she’s rid of the anchor now. Young, you say?”

  The old man chortled. “Oh, my,yes. And a beauty! Old Sato didn’t deserve the pretty thing, and that’s the truth. But she knows it, so don’t get your hopes up.” He sighed. “Some men have all the luck.” He cast another furtive look over his shoulder, started, and put a gnarled finger to his lips.

  The old woman waddled up. Shegave them a nod and told the old man, “I need some firewood if you want me to cook the rice and keep the wine warm. Somebody’s got to do the work if we’re to eat.”

  “Get it yourself. My wife,” he said to Tora, rolling his eyes. “Can’t stand to see a man rest. Ask her about the Carp. She knows everything.”

  Tora turned on the charm. “Lucky you. Your lady’s not only fetching but well-informed. I bet she makes these delicious pickles herself.”

  The woman’s round face widened into a broad smile nearly as toothless as her husband’s. She sat down besideTora. “A family recipe. Been making them all my life. So, where are you two from?”

  “The capital,” Hitomaro said,chewing a pickle. “We stopped across the street first. You know anything aboutthe murder?”

  She nodded. “It should suit the whore just fine,” she said darkly.

  Her husband bristled. “You’ve no right to call her that, woman.”

  Tora laughed. “If she’s as beautiful as your husband says, I might court her myself-now that she’s single again.”

  “Then you’d better watch out.That one’s a fox,” snapped the old woman.

  “Horns grow on the head of a jealous woman,” muttered her husband.

  She punched his arm. “What do you know about such women?”

  “Pay no attention to her, young man,” the old man said, rubbing his arm. “Mrs. Sato was a good little wife.Dutiful daughter, too. Not many young girls let themselves get sold to a cranky old geezer like Sato.”

  Hitomaro put in, “I don’t thinkshe was home just now.”

  “She went to visit her sick mother yesterday,” the old man said. “Maybe she’s gone back.” His wife gave a snort, and he glared at her. “A dutiful wife and daughter, I say, and a fine little manager, too. She’ll do wonders for the place now that old Sato’s dead.”

  “Hah!” said his wife and left.

  Her husband stayed. “Sato was a terrible miser. He let the inn run down. Charged bums a few coppers for a place by the hearth and a bowl of beans or millet with wilted greens. His wife’s been wanting a nicer place.”

  The fat little wife came rolling back with another plate of pickles. She said, “Guess what? One of the men’s from Takata. He says the old lord’s dying.”

  Her husband pursed his mouth. “Lord Maro? He’s been dying for years. But I’d better lay in more wine anyway. If it’strue, we’ll be busy around here for the funeral.” His face broke into a happy grin for a moment, then he said piously, “Lord Uesugi’s the high constable. May he be reborn in paradise.”

  “If he’s the high constable,”Tora said, “he’s had a good life already. Save paradise for us poor people.”

  “You wouldn’t want to tradeplaces with him,” said the old man. “There’s a curse on that clan.”

  “A curse?”

  “Ah, terrible things happen to them. Take Lord Maro’s older brother. He used to be a champion with the bow and could hit the eye of a rabbit at two hundred paces, but one day he killed his father’s wife and her little son. Killed his own brother!”

  “What happened to him?”Hitomaro asked.

  “The angry ghosts ate him.”

  Tora’s eyes widened. “Really?”

  The old woman rolled her eyes and cried, “It’s the truth. The ghosts of that poor young lady and her babe. Hewas never seen again.”

  Her husband scowled. “I’mtelling the story.” He turned back to Tora and Hitomaro. “Lord Maro’s fatherwas pretty old when he married again and had another son. I should be so lucky!”He gave his wife a meaningful look. This sent her into hoots of derisivelaughter and she waddled back to her customers.

  “So? Go on,” Tora said.

  “Well, they found the lady andher boy in the forest. Killed by the same arrow!” He leaned forward. “The olderson’s arrow. It went through both of them. Like two birds on a spit. Lord Maro’sfather had doted on them and it killed him.” He paused and eyed the wine flask.“You’re not drinking. Can I get you some more wine?”

  They shook their heads. Torasaid, “How about another cup for you?”

  In a flash the cup reappearedfrom the old man’s sleeve. Tora filled it, the old man gulped it down, tuckedthe cup away, and continued, “Well, Lord Maro succeeded his father, but he had no luck either. Only one of his children lived. That’s Makio. But Makio’s wife died young. They say she jumped off the upper gallery a few weeks after the wedding. He never married again. Then Lord Maro went out hunting and lost his mind. Came back raving mad. Locked himself away and never came out of his room again. They say there’s crying and wailing day and night in that room. It’ll be a blessing if he finally dies.”

  Tora gave a shudder. “Angry ghosts will drive a man mad.”

  The old man nodded. “Mind you,there’ll be more trouble soon. It’s the new governor. Makio will get rid of him, just like his father did the last one.”

  “What?” Tora and Hitomaro askedtogether.

  “Hah! You don’t believe me?Name of Oda. Came from the capital just like this one and wanted to run things.Broke his neck falling off a horse. They called it an accident.” He snorted.

  Hitomaro said, “It wasn’t anaccident?”

  “His horse came home with anarrow in its ass.”

  Tora and Hitomaro exchanged glances, then Hitomaro got up and tossed some coins down. “That’s foolish talk,”he said harshly. “If someone raises a hand against a governor, the emperor sends an army to teach them proper respect.”

  “Well,” the old man swept upthe coins, “it’ll make trouble all right. That’s always the way in the end.’“

  Outside, Tora asked, “You think there was any truth to that?”

  “To what? The murdered governor? Or this Makio’s plans for us?”

  “Both.”

  “No idea. He had no reason to lie and he seemed rational enough-except for that ghost business. They say rumors are more honest than official welcomes. We’d better report it to the master.”

  But when they got back to the inn yard, Tora burst into a string of curses. His catch of birds had disappeared-all but one skinny dove which had been nailed to a pole with a knife. Stuck to the knife was a piece of paper with the words, “This will be
you next time.”

  TWO

  FIRST SNOW

  The capital of Echigo province was not a planned city like Heian-kyo but had sprung up around an old fort that once guarded the northern highway along the shore of the Sea of Japan. The fort had long since been abandoned as the emperor’s armies and independent warlords pushed the hostile Ezo people farther north into remote parts of neighboring Dewa province.

  The remnants of the fort were now the tribunal and seat of the provincial government. It consisted mostly of a collection of dilapidated buildings, once barracks and stables for horses,which huddled inside a broken-down palisade.

  The main hall occupied the center of the compound. It was the only raised timber building and contained the official reception areas and offices of the governor’s staff. It also served as living quarters for the new deputy governor, Sugawara Akitada, and his young wife.

  When Hitomaro and Tora returned, Akitada was sweeping leaves and dirt from the floor of the reception hall. Before anyone could say anything, Hitomaro crossed the room to take the broom from his young master’s hand. “Allow me, sir,” he said and set about the chore efficiently.

  “Thank you, Hito,” saidAkitada, “but I was almost done. It looks much better, doesn’t it?” He wastrying to convince himself but, judging by their faces, his lieutenants suppressed dismay.

  “Looks fine, sir,” said Tora stoutly. “A bit of oil will polish the floor nicely and we can always drape some hangings over that back wall.” The back wall had lost half its boards to vandals. Gaping holes revealed the room beyond.

  Akitada nodded. “Excellent idea. Seimei is in the archives, organizing the documents. It’s very dusty work.” He smiled a little. “He sent me away because I was wasting time readingeverything I picked up. Did you have any luck?”

  Tora grimaced. “We shot enoughto feed us all for a week, but some bastard stole our birds.”

  “Ah, I expect people are hungry. From what I have seen, there is a lot of hardship here. The granaries are nearly empty.”

  “And now there’s murder, as well,” said Hitomaro. “We ran into some trouble on the outskirts. An innkeeper.Killed by his guests, it seems.” He opened the door and swept the pile of dirtout onto the veranda and from there into the courtyard below. A cold wind caught part of it and blew it back. He muttered under his breath.

  Akitada closed the door while Hitomaro wielded his broom again. “Did you investigate?” Akitada asked.

  “Couldn’t. Chobei and the judge wouldn’t have it. Their jurisdiction, they said.”

  Akitada opened the door again,and this time Hitomaro managed to dispose of the dirt without mishap. He returned quickly. It was as cold inside the hall as in the open but at least there was no wind. He and Tora looked at each other.

  “You were polite, I hope,”Akitada said to Tora.

  Tora flushed. “They’re bastards, sir, and they’re out to get us.” He told Akitada what the old man inthe wineshop had said and showed him the crudely written note that had been attached to the dove. He added, “And I don’t like the way they’re handling the murder. They’re going after three men-an actor, a peddler, and a farmer. I got the notion that they were convenient scapegoats. Can they get away with that?”

  “Of course not,” Akitada said firmly. “They may arrest suspects if the circumstances warrant it, but there is the judge, after all. He will investigate the evidence. If he is not satisfied,he will have the suspects released. In any case, trials are public. You can’t simply find people guilty of murder without having convincing proof.”

  “I don’t like that JudgeHisamatsu, sir. Can’t you check into it? Or let me and Hito do it?”

  “No. Let the proper authorities do their work.”

  Hitomaro and Tora exchangedglances again. Hitomaro said, “It looks like people here don’t like theirgovernors, and our constables are poorly trained and uncooperative. They claimto be busy with other chores every time I ask them to assemble for drill.”

  “And,” added Tora, “the lazy bastards refuse to help us clean up the place..We even have to feed our own horses. Is it true that one of the governors got murdered?”

  Akitada frowned. “A foolish tale. Do the best you can with the constables. We should be able to get more done very soon. I am to meet some of the local dignitaries at Takata.”

  “Oh,” cried Tora, “you haven’theard then? There’s talk in town that the old lord is dying.”

  Akitada raised his brows. “It must be more rumor. His son would have canceled the banquet if it were true.No, I must go, but you can come with me, Tora, so get ready.”

  As Akitada walked down a narrow, dark corridor, he had to pause for another wave of nausea to pass before entering their private room. He reflected bitterly that the long-awaited invitation from the younger Uesugi was spoiled by this cursed bout of illness,caused, he suspected, by the tribunal cook, either through ineptitude or by intent. Though he had managed to hide his fears from the others, he knew that the local people looked upon him as their enemy. Poison? No, not that. They would not dare raise a hand against a duly appointed official from the capital.With a shiver, he pushed open the door.

  His wife, a slender, pretty young woman in a rose-colored, quilted silk coat over full deep-red trousers,was arranging his formal robe over a bamboo stand. Gray smoke curled up in a thin spiral from a censer nearby and filled the air with the exotic scent of sandalwood.

  Akitada said peevishly, “I wishyou wouldn’t bother! These border warlords are hardly going to be impressed by a perfumed gown.”

  Tamako gave him a searching glance and said, “I think you do Uesugi an injustice. The family has money and they have for generations sent their sons to the capital to be educated.” After a moment she added, “I hope there is no reason to suspect them of disloyalty.Perhaps you should postpone this visit.”

  Akitada growled, “Nonsense,”and went to a cushion near a brazier full of glowing charcoal.

  Lowering his tall frame gingerly, he watched his wife’s graceful movements as she placed the censer under the bamboo stand and used her fan to direct the scent of incense towardthe garment. He held his chilled fingers over the glowing coals. “It is clouding up,” he said, his heavy eyebrows glowering. “The chances are excellent that I will get a good soaking on the way. The very idea, wearing a perfumed silk robe for a ten-mile ride across rough roads in this kind of weather.”

  “You can put your straw raincoat over it. Or better still, why don’t you let Tora take your regrets and stay here with me?”

  She laid down her fan, came tohim and knelt, placing a cool hand against his forehead. “At least you are not feverish,” she said. “Are you still feeling ill?”

  Akitada shifted away irritably.“It is nothing.”

  He thought: And I must go.Unless I can get Uesugi to support me, I am wasted here. He clenched his fists.In the week since his arrival he had met with sullen stares from the people in the streets, and with lack of cooperation and outright insubordination from what passed as his staff at the tribunal. Not that there was much of it, for the entire paperwork of the province seemed to be in the hands of one senior clerk and two frightened youngsters. And in the jail and constabulary matters were even worse. Never had he seen a more depraved looking gang of cutthroats than his tribunal constables and their brutish sergeant, while the few prisoners in their filthy cells looked starved and bore the marks of cruel beatings.

  To add insult to injury, the provincial guard, commanded by the haughty Captain Takesuke, seemed to take its orders from Takata. The old Lord Uesugi was the provincial high constable.Evidently his authority also extended to legal matters, for since Akitada’s arrival not a single man or woman had come to the tribunal to lay charges or ask for adjudication of a case. He sighed deeply.

  “What is wrong?” his wifeasked.

  “It may be,” he said heavily, “that we should not have come here. Nothing has gone right. The tribunal is practically a ruin, the provincial grana
ries are almost empty, and the people are sullen to the point of disrespect. We have yet to receive a single welcome.”

  She got up to return to her work. “It is true that this is a strange place, but you were eager to leave the capital. Remember how unhappy you were with your work and how cruelly the minister used you? If only winter were not so near.” Her voice trailed off uncertainly.

  Akitada was suddenly ashamed ofhaving taken out his ill humor on his wife. “Tamako, are you sorry you came?”he asked anxiously. “This is called the snow country, you know. They say wewill be snowed in for six months and rarely see daylight because the snow covers the whole house. And we don’t even have a house. How will you pass yourtime?”

  She gave him a smile. “We can make this place livable and we will be together.”

  Akitada looked about at the handsome screens and movable hangings and at the large lacquer chests holding their bedding and clothes. But he was worried about other matters. “There are no women’s quarters here. And the men are not only hostile and rebellious, but uncouth. Your maid may be raped within a week. I should never have brought either of you.”

  There was a brief silence. Then Tamako said in a brittle voice, “If you don’t want me here, I will go back.Then at least I shall be of some use to your mother and sisters.’“

  They both knew they were too far from the capital and he could not send her home, but he refused to acknowledge his defeat. Instead he changed the subject. “Today there were more dispatches from the north. The Ezo have attacked on several fronts, and ourtroops are fighting as far south as Tagajo. It made me wonder why the younger Uesugi does not join them. After all, their local reputation rests solely on their military ability to protect this province.”

  “I expect the old lord is worse. The women in the kitchen say he cannot last much longer. Do you think the Ezo will push as far south as this?”

  “No. Our soldiers are staunchfighters. Besides, the snow will make the roads impassable. No doubt that isthe reason for all the unrest. The Ezo are trying to improve their positions before retiring into their winter camps.”