The Fires of the Gods (A Sugawara Akitada Novel)

by I. J. Parker

Watanabe’s double chin creased. ‘Ah, yes. He died yesterday. A release. He was in terrible pain – terrible! Ah, the anger of the gods!’ Jowls quivering, he shook his head.

  Tora’s heart sank. So he had not been able to save the son either. ‘That’s a pity,’ he said heavily. ‘You don’t think it could have been an accident?’

  Watanabe pursed his lips and suddenly resembled a frog. ‘I see what you mean. A senile father and a house full of dry grass and bamboo. Perhaps. But even then it might have been a sign. Did you notice the altar at the end of their street? I paid for that, and for the priest to perform rites.’

  Tora had not, but he nodded. ‘Very pious,’ he said. ‘You’re probably right about the gods being angry. So many fires, that’s just not normal.’

  A very young waitress in a stained pink robe slouched up and plunked down two cups. Her robe gaped open as she bent, revealing firm young breasts. She filled the cups from a flask, set down the flask, and held out a dirty palm.

  Tora eyed her. She looked not much more than fourteen or fifteen and was surprisingly pretty. He felt pity for her. Already, she had lost her childhood. Her smooth face was painted like a trollop’s, and she looked sullen. Children grew up fast in this part of the city. Tora fished out three coppers and placed them in her palm.

  ‘Hey,’ she said with a pout. ‘That pays for the wine. What about the service?’

  Tora flashed her a smile and let his eyes sweep over her again. ‘I don’t know. What do you offer?’

  Watanabe shook with silent laughter. She glared at both of them and flounced off.

  Tora looked after her. ‘Not bad looking, but she needs a bath.’

  With another rumbling belly laugh, Watanabe said, ‘Around here, men don’t care. She’s both young and willing.’ He winked.

  So the girl was a whore already, and Watanabe had probably slept with her. Tora was disgusted and said nastily, ‘I thought your interest was young boys. Or isn’t that why I saw you talking to them?’

  The rice merchant reached for his cup. ‘I take a charitable interest in poor youths,’ he said coldly.

  Right!

  Tora smirked. ‘Well, to each his own. I prefer females myself.’

  Watanabe choked. ‘You misunderstood. I’m a married man,’ he squawked, coughing.

  ‘So am I, but that doesn’t keep me from ogling a beauty.’ The girl was at the open back door now, talking to someone outside. A moment later, she slipped out.

  Watanabe was still protesting his innocence. ‘I’m just helping poor boys find work. Working keeps them out of trouble.’

  ‘That’s very public-spirited of you.’

  Watanabe eyed Tora resentfully. ‘If you don’t mind my asking, what are you doing here?’ he asked. ‘And why are you dressed like that?’

  ‘I’m looking for a thief. It seemed like a good idea to blend in.’

  Watanabe’s bulging eyes widened. ‘Why are you looking for a thief? Are you a constable?’

  ‘No. This one paid a visit at my house.’

  ‘Ah. Did he get away with much?’

  ‘Not really. I have nothing to steal. Have you heard of a Jirokichi? The one that steals from the rich to give to the poor?’

  Watanabe’s belly quivered with mirth again. It reminded Tora of boiling bean paste. ‘Sure, I’ve heard of him,’ he said. ‘It’s a great story. Fools will believe anything. Some even pray to him for gold – just like some god.’

  Tora flushed. He did not like being called a fool, and while he knew Jirokichi was human, he had great respect for miraculous events. ‘You can believe what you want,’ he said ungraciously.

  Watanabe became apologetic. ‘No offense. I knew you were joking.’ He thought a moment. ‘You know, speaking from a business standpoint, a man could make a lot of money out of a thing like that. Being thought a god, I mean.’ He started to laugh again.

  Tora watched him with barely hidden disgust. The man was made of whale blubber. ‘How so?’

  ‘Think about it. All sorts of things can be done if people think they are done by the gods. The police don’t trouble themselves with arresting the kami.’ He leaned forward to refill their cups. ‘Oh, no! The kami are quite safe.’ He fell into another bout of laughter.

  ‘Pretending to be a god would be a sacrilege,’ Tora pointed out, but he wondered if Jirokichi was the sort of man who would dishonor the gods. And that brought up another thought. ‘Is that what’s going on with all those fires, do you think?’ he asked Watanabe. ‘You know, someone’s setting them and blaming it on the gods?’

  Watanabe was shocked by the notion. He stopped laughing. ‘Of course not. Much too dangerous. And what’s in it for him?’

  The wine had warmed Tora’s belly. He was wasting time with Watanabe. Emptying his cup, he got up. ‘Well, I’m glad I bumped into you, but it’s time I was off. My wife’s not as understanding as yours.’

  Watanabe’s grin was strained. ‘Thanks for the wine, Tora. And good luck finding your thief.’

  As Tora walked away from the Fragrant Peach, he passed the alley next to the building. A closely entwined couple leaned against the wall. The young waitress had her pink robe pulled up to her waist and a pale thigh clasped around a young male in a blue and white robe. His hips moved energetically against her.

  Tora was amused. When he was young, he had known such uncomfortable but exhilarating moments himself, but these days he had something better waiting for him at home.

  THE DEAF MUTES

  There was another fire overnight. The home of a minor official burned down. The news was a painful reminder of Tora’s lack of progress. His mood was not improved when he learned that his master had been angry with him for going to the Kiyowara house. He postponed the tongue-lashing as long as possible.

  When he finally reported at the main house, Seimei greeted him with a smile. ‘Good news, Tora,’ he said. ‘The master has a new assignment and has been paid. With such an auspicious turn of events, we sent for the yin-yang master right away to cast the child’s fortune. And what do you think he said?’

  Tora waited expectantly. Maybe things would be all right after all.

  Seimei rubbed his gnarled hands. ‘He declared the child would be blessed with health, wealth, and happiness. And when the master presented him with an additional gift, he said that fate would elevate the unborn even past the father’s rank and position. Past his father’s rank! What do you say to that?’

  Tora blinked. ‘He’ll be greater than his father?’

  ‘Yes. Such excellent news!’ Seimei chuckled. ‘Well, the master said this would not be hard to achieve since he was without rank and position at the moment, and that he trusted his son would fare better. But I could tell that he was very happy.’

  Tora’s spirits lifted. He found his master bent over his accounts and looking very pleased. ‘I hear there’s good news, sir,’ Tora offered, intent on keeping things cheerful.

  His master looked up and smiled. ‘Ah, Tora. I’d hoped to see you sooner, but you must’ve been busy with that fine son of yours.’

  Tora let him think so. ‘Seimei says you’ve had a great fortune cast for yours.’

  His master looked a little embarrassed. ‘Well, it’s customary – not that I put much faith in it. It seemed a good idea now that we have a little money. Did Seimei tell you? I’ve been employed by Lady Kiyowara to find her husband’s murderer.’ He put on a stern expression. ‘As it turned out, your information about the son was useful, but don’t take matters in your own hands again. It may cause me a great deal of trouble with the censors.’

  Tora made a show of hanging his head. ‘Sorry, sir. I wasn’t thinking.’

  ‘Well, don’t do it again. Now please report.’

  A chastened Tora told everything he had observed and been told outside the Kiyowara gate. When he was done, he asked, ‘So, do you think the son killed the father?’

  ‘Too soon to know. It may be more complicated than a quarrel between father and son. The s
on cannot have been very surprised by his father’s decision. I suspect the young man was merely frustrated and expressed himself by shouting. The young frequently lose their temper. I did myself once.’

  ‘He could have done it.’ Tora felt cheated of his contribution. ‘Maybe there was more to it than the military service. Maybe that was just the last straw.’

  ‘Perhaps. We’ll see. What about your own case?’

  Tora reported what had happened in the western city.

  When he finished, his master frowned. ‘You’ll have to be careful in those low dives. There has been gang activity in the city, and those hoodlums that robbed you may work for one. Remember, that peculiar thief knows where you live. That means that he also knows what you do and who I am.’

  ‘Amida!’ Tora slapped his forehead. ‘What a fool I am! I should’ve thought of that. I bet the nasty little bastard is in it up to his skinny neck and has warned his gang by now. Sorry, sir. What do you want me to do?’

  ‘Well, leaving you the gold suggests that he’s not without honor. He may or may not belong to a gang, but it seems more important than ever to find him. A clever thief like that may well overhear secrets as he creeps into people’s houses. I don’t like this business with the fires. Just be careful in the future.’

  Tora left, thinking about the situation. He would go back to the Fragrant Peach when he was done with his chores. After a light snack, he put on clean but nondescript cotton clothing of the sort worn by coach drivers, stable hands, or mounted messengers. Next he sought out Seimei for help with a note for the elusive Jirokichi. Since he could not run the thief to ground, he hoped the note would make him come to him.

  Seimei balked a little when he saw the threat. He said, ‘You may be Tora the Tiger, but remember that a cornered rat attacks the cat.’

  That made Tora smile. ‘You still have a way with words, old man,’ he said. ‘I’ll remember it. The master’s already told me to be careful. I’m carrying a knife. I have a family to consider.’

  Seimei shook his head, but he wrote out the message for Tora.

  When Tora stopped to leave the note at Hoshina’s wine shop in the Western Market, Jirokichi was not there, but Hoshina came from the back with a tray. She saw Tora and glared briefly before she went to serve her customers. When she came to greet him, she was all smiles and seductive wiggles again.

  Tora growled, ‘Forget it, girl. I’m wise to your tricks. Here, give this to your boyfriend.’

  She took the note, unfolded it, and stared at it blankly. Tora saw she could not read and snapped, ‘It says I have to speak to him. It’s a matter of life or death.’ He let that sink in, then added, ‘His!’ and walked out.

  The sun was low, and the fading golden light turned the market buildings and flimsy stands into an unearthly scene – like one he had once seen in his lady’s picture book. Towards the north, dark clouds were gathering. Perhaps another thunderstorm would clear the mugginess from the air. A stray dog wagged its tail at him and went to investigate the refuse beside the fish stall. He gobbled something, then lifted his leg on the rest. Somewhere, temple bells called to evening prayers.

  It turned dark quickly, and Tora lost his way. The streets were deserted at this hour. He’d meant to return to the Fragrant Peach to learn something about the activities of local gangs, but after wandering aimlessly through unfamiliar sections of run-down homes and empty fields for what seemed like hours, he found himself among warehouses and storage yards. There were no lights, and the new moon was no help. He turned down a long passage between tall fences and the backs of blind buildings because of a glimmer of light in the distance. The darkness was dense. He stumbled into holes and over discarded debris, cursing and rubbing a bruised knee, but kept moving forward towards the small gleam up ahead.

  Somewhere midway between the light and the point where he had entered this dark hole, he became aware that the darkness was no longer empty of life. The warm air seemed to breathe and pulsate with danger. He swung around.

  Nothing. Just the impenetrable darkness.

  The only sounds of the summer night were the chirping insects in some weeds, a dog barking in the distance, and the flapping wings of a night bird. It should have been reassuring, but there was still a powerful sense of something lying in wait. Tora shuddered at the thought of fox spirits or other demonic presences.

  Above him stretched a starry sky. Taking courage, Tora walked on. But within a few paces, he was certain that he was not alone and moved quickly aside against the blind wall of a warehouse. There, he crouched and waited, watching a space between two buildings on the other side where his pursuer’s head and shoulders would become visible against the stars.

  No one appeared.

  He counted to twenty and decided that he had imagined the whole thing.

  As he rose and took a step, something whirred and struck the wooden wall where he had been a moment before. Tora burst into a wild dash towards the light up ahead. He reached a cross street out of breath and saw the lantern of a wine shop gleaming ahead. Gulping air, he slowed and looked back. Whoever had been back there – and already the incident seemed unreal – did not come after him. Tora’s heart still hammered in his chest as he walked to the wine shop. He badly needed a drink.

  Near the wine shop, a gray shape separated from a wall. Tora jumped back with a curse.

  ‘Spare a copper, brother?’ quavered a voice.

  Tora saw a bent old man with a dirty white beard and put a few coins into the outstretched hand.

  ‘May you live a thousand years,’ said the creature to his back.

  To Tora’s surprise, the wine shop turned out to be the Fragrant Peach, proving how much the appearance of things changes after dark. Feeling a little foolish, he walked in.

  In the daytime, the place had merely looked depressing. Now, in flickering firelight, it seemed to pulsate with danger. Several men were drinking and gambling with dice. They were poorly dressed and looked hungry. Tora had no doubt that most carried knives.

  The crippled beggar had limped in behind him. ‘Koichi’s doing a good business tonight,’ he said. ‘You one of the sergeant’s men?’ He peered up at Tora with bleary eyes.

  When Tora did not answer, the beggar moved off towards the gamblers to try his luck there.

  Near the fire pit sat three tall and burly males. The young waitress stirred something in the large iron pot suspended over it. She almost dropped the ladle when she saw Tora. This pleased him, because it meant that his good looks had impressed her even in the ragged clothes he had worn. The burly man in the middle turned to stare at him.

  The fellow was gray-haired and gray-bearded and very ugly.

  Tora ignored him. ‘Hello, beautiful,’ he called out to the girl. He went to sit on the other side of the pit, giving the three men a friendly nod. They stared back. Tora sniffed the air. ‘Something smells good. What’s in the pot?’

  She gazed at him, frowning a little. ‘Cabbage and rice.’

  ‘I’m hungry. Let’s have some of that.’ He let his eyes travel over her body. ‘How’s the boyfriend?’

  She flushed and shook her head while ladling out a serving of the food.

  The three burly men watched. They were muscular and had the brutish faces of men used to carrying out dire threats against ordinary citizens. One was bald and had the broken nose of an ex-wrestler. The other’s face bore knife scars. Tora decided that they were almost certainly criminals. They would not spill any secrets and might spell trouble. The girl was another matter.

  ‘I’m a plain fellow,’ he told her as she handed him the steaming bowl. ‘Plain fare’s good enough for me. And better when it’s been cooked by a beautiful woman.’

  She did not respond to his flirtation, but glanced towards the three silent men.

  The baldpate made some sort of gesture to the other two. The gray-beard, who had a face as ugly as Shoki’s and wore a dull red jacket, scowled at Tora. Then he, too, gestured to his neighbor, who gestured bac
k. The third man laughed, then got in on the act by moving his fingers around and waving his arms.

  Tora watched the flapping and waving of hands in amazement. When they kept glancing his way, he decided that they were making fun of him.

  ‘What’s with you guys?’ he shouted across. ‘Lost your voice?’

  The girl snapped, ‘They can’t talk. Or hear you.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘They’re deaf mutes.’

  Tora gaped at her. ‘All three?’

  ‘Yes.’

  That seemed strange. Tora looked at them, and they looked back. There was nothing friendly about their faces. They were dangerous thugs daring him to make some comment. He looked around the room and decided to let it go. If they were deaf and dumb, they were no use to him anyway.

  The girl was waiting. He took up his bowl and tasted. ‘Not bad,’ he said. ‘You do all the cooking yourself?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Being hungry, Tora made short work of the soup and was considering another bowl when he realized that she was still standing there. He put down the empty bowl. She snatched it up and held out her hand. Apparently, she wanted him to pay and leave. Tora dug out a couple of coppers and put them in her dirty palm, then snatched her wrist. ‘Since the deaf mutes can’t talk to me, how about you keeping me company?’

  ‘I’m busy.’ She tugged back.

  Tora held on, grinning. ‘Come on,’ he wheedled. ‘I’ll show you a very good time if you’ll let me. Better than the young fellow in the blue and white robe.’

  She gasped, ‘Shut up!’

  ‘What do you care? They’re deaf.’

  ‘They can read lips.’

  ‘Really? Never mind. Come, give me a kiss and I’ll buy you a cup of wine.’ Tora jerked her arm suddenly and she fell into his lap.

  That was when he heard a growl. The gray-beard was up and coming for him. He had a heavy tread, his fists were clenched, and his face was red with anger.

  Tora pushed the girl off and jumped up. The thug was older than he, but he was large and looked strong. And he was not alone, for his companions joined him. Tora considered pulling the knife in his boot.