The Old Men of Omi: An Akitada Novel (Akitada Mysteries Book 13)

by I. J. Parker

  “Forgive me, Keiko,” he said and cleared his throat again. “I came to help. I’m sorry I was too late. Do you have somewhere you can go with the children? Somewhere where those animals won’t find you?”

  She shook her head. “We’ve only been here for two weeks. We don’t know anyone.”

  The old woman said, “Well, you know me. Leave it to me. I’ll find you another place.” She turned to Tora. “But what will she do without her husband. How will they live?”

  Tora fished around in his belt and counted out two pieces of silver and twenty coppers. “It’s all I’ve got, but I can get more. Make sure she isn’t robbed of the money. I’ll try to get Kinzaburo back.”

  Keiko gave a little cry, laid the baby down and crawled to him, knocking her head against the dirt floor and murmuring, “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

  Tora was embarrassed. “Stop that!” he said roughly, then recalled what she had gone through so recently and added more gently, “You’re welcome. I blame myself for not warning your husband about those bastards. I’ll do my best to make them pay for it.”

  She sniffled and sat up. “You’re a good man,” she said softly.

  She was quite pretty, he thought, even with her swollen and bloodied face and with disheveled hair. She was also very young to have already given birth to three children. He thought of his own, only, son. Hanae had not expressed any desire for more children, and he had not pressed her. Having children did something to women’s bodies, and his Hanae was still as slim and desirable as ever. But sometimes he wished he had a houseful of little ones, like his Excellency Fujiwara.

  He thanked her for her good opinion of him and pressed the money into her hand. “Now best get away, or they’ll come back for you.”

  ∞

  Tora returned to provincial headquarters and went to look for Okura. He found him at the guards’ barracks, playing kemari in an open area outside. He and eight of his men had formed a circle and were passing the ball from one to the next by kicking it. Hands could not be used, and the ball must not touch the ground. It was a difficult game that required concentration and agility.

  Tora watched for a moment and saw they were good. Disposing of his sword and half armor, he joined the game. They played for half an hour, and when they finally stopped and washed the sweat off their faces at the well, Okura said, “You show promise, Tora, but you’re sadly out of shape.”

  Tora chuckled. “True enough, and in more ways than one. This morning, the master and I took up sword practice again.”

  Okura raised his brows. “You expect trouble?”

  “Well, it has a way of finding us. Take my run-in with the sohei, for example.”

  “I told you, you can’t do anything about that. It’s hopeless. We tried.”

  “Well, things got worse today.” Tora dried his face and hands with his robe and then told Okura about Keiko and her children, and about the way they had beaten and abducted her husband.”

  Okura listened. “Terrible,” he said, shaking his head. “There’ve been rumors about those soldier monks behaving like hoodlums and raping women. Each time someone complains, someone else stops the rumors. But even so, Tora, you can’t do anything about it.”

  Tora glared at him. “You surprise me. I thought you were better than that. I tell you what I’ll do about it. First I’ll tell my master. He’ll know how to handle the bastards. And then I’ll make it my personal duty to bring Kinzaburo back.”

  ∞

  He found Akitada at the governor’s villa. He was sitting on the small veranda outside his room, reading some documents. “Sorry to interrupt,” lied Tora, still filled with righteous outrage.

  His master looked up and shook his head. “You really should do something about that eye,” he said. “You’ll frighten Hanae half to death. She thinks we’re safe from violent encounters on this trip. I assume you stopped by to tell me you’re leaving for home?”

  Tora was so upset that he had actually forgotten about that. He rearranged his plans. Surely Keiko and the kids were safe enough for the night. He said, “Yes, sir. Though there’s another matter on my mind. Something happened that we cannot allow to go unpunished.”

  Akitada raised his brows. “You haven’t got into another scrape already?”

  This calm and gentle rebuke irritated Tora, who thought it typical of the “good people” to remain unmoved by the plight of the poor. He scowled. “No, sir. This is about those monks again. Of course if you’ve decided you don’t want to be bothered, then no more is to be said.”

  Akitada sighed. “What have they done this time?”

  But Tora had his pride and outrage reinforced it. “Never mind, sir. I’ll take care of it myself.” He turned on his heel. “I’ll be back tomorrow.”

  “Tora!”

  The tone was preemptory and Tora stopped. “Yes, sir?”

  “Tell me!”

  “I suppose it’s not really important, sir. It just involves some poor people. Nobody else cares, so why should you?”

  “Tora!” His master’s voice and expression signaled danger.

  “It’s just that they came back and got the poor bastard. First they beat him unconscious and dragged him off, then they came back and took turns raping his wife. They’ll make her go back to their land and work the family as slaves.”

  His master’s face lengthened. “How did you find out?”

  “I went to check on him with the harbor master. He hadn’t come to work. I found out where he lives and went there. An old crone told me what happened, and the poor wife confirmed it. The old one’s taken them to a safe place, but we need to get Kinzaburo back from those bastards.” He paused, remembering the scene. “There are three small children, one a babe. They have nothing. And those animals even destroyed their few pots, clothes, and bedding.”

  There was a long silence. Then Akitada asked, “Does the governor know about this?”

  “No. I told Okura. He’s the sergeant of the provincial guard. I liked him, but he’s just like the rest of the people here. Nothing to be done because it’s monks from Enryaku-ji. Okura says the governor will not touch them.” Tora sniffed angrily. “I must say I’m surprised at his Excellency, sir.”

  “Well, there are special difficulties about Enryaku-ji. The temple and monastery are of extraordinary importance in the capital. And it has been this way for centuries.” Seeing Tora’s angry glare, he went on, “Over time, the temple bought land to support itself and its community. Such lands are considered tax free because of the services performed by the temple and its monks. As for the peasants who work the land belonging to someone else, they are legally bound to that land. If it weren’t so, peasants could leave their fields whenever it suited them, and then where would we be?”

  Tora came of peasant stock himself, and old resentments rose within him. “That makes slaves out of free men,” he snapped. “That’s usually only done to people captured in war, or those who sell themselves. It’s evil to force Kinzaburo to work for the temple when he doesn’t want to. But I suppose it’s all right for the officials and holy monks to do it. After all, they’re better than ordinary folk.”

  His master snapped, “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s not the same at all. They’ve been given land to feed their families in return for a small share for the landowner. That’s a fair contract. And for that, they owe the landowner the cultivation of the fields. If peasants don’t work the paddies, the land returns to wilderness and nobody eats.”

  Tora bit his lip. “Right. I’ll be leaving now, sir,” he said dully and turned. He half expected to be called back. After all, the master had not really commented on the brutality of the beating and the rapes. But there was nothing. He walked out, slamming the door behind him.

  Chapter Ten

  An Unwelcome Visitor

  On the way back to the capital, Tora considered his options. Given his master’s surprising and disappointing indifference to the actions of the sohei, he could either forget the
matter or try to help the unfortunate Kinzaburo and his family himself.

  Forgetting about them was out of the question. For one thing, Tora hated brutality, especially toward women and children. For another, for all his elevated status as Lieutenant Sashima, trusted retainer of Lord Sugawara, he was a peasant by birth and at heart. He could not deny this bond with Kinzaburo and his family. And thus his choice was simple and quickly made. He would find a way to free Kinzaburo and return him to his family. In the process, he hoped to deal out some punishment to the sohei. But this he did not insist on. It would merely be an extra satisfaction. He had served his master long enough to know he must guard against making trouble. It was bad enough that he would have to go against orders in this case.

  Or if not orders precisely, then implied refusal of permission.

  Having settled matters to his satisfaction, he hurried homeward, thinking with pleasure of surprising Hanae and spending the evening with his family and the night in her soft arms.

  The gate was opened by the stable boy. Tora rode in, tired and dusty, and snapped, “Don’t you know that you must check who’s at the gates before throwing them wide? What if it had been armed robbers?”

  The boy grinned impudently. “That would’ve been something to see. Nothing ever happens around here.”

  Saburo came up behind him and cleared his throat. “I wouldn’t say that.”

  Tora swung himself out of the saddle and tossed the reins to the boy. “Watch your mouth, kid. You’re not too old to be put over my knee.” When Tora turned to Saburo, the boy stuck out his tongue and took the horse away.

  Saburo’s face wore a peculiar expression, half sheepish and half dejected. “So, what’s been happening, brother?” Tora asked.

  Saburo grimaced and glanced over his shoulder. “A terrible thing’s happened. I don’t know what will come of it.”

  “Spit it out.” Tora was getting impatient. Hanae was waiting.

  Saburo opened his mouth, but a sharp voice cried, “So!” A woman’s voice. It added, “And you are who?” Saburo shrank into himself as if he expected a beating.

  Surprised, Tora turned his head. A small, round, elderly woman in black had appeared around the corner of the stable. She waddled closer, surprisingly quick on her feet for her size. In fact, she seemed to glide across the gravel as if carried by invisible animals under her full skirt. Her face was sharp-featured for one so fat, and her expression was ominous.

  “Who the hell is she?” Tora burst out.

  “Language!” cried the woman, waving a finger at him. “A man is judged by his manner in the presence of ladies. Keep it in mind for the future! Hmmph! Lost your voice? You must be Tora, the handsome one. What happened to your face?”

  Resentment evaporated. Tora treated the little woman to one of his brightest smiles and an exaggerated bow. “I am Tora. My apologies, auntie. Your ears are too sharp. You weren’t meant to hear that.”

  “I’m not your auntie. You will address me as Mrs. Kuruda.” She stopped before him and looked him over. “A pretty face and a smooth tongue, but you’re a troublemaker. Your wife must have her work cut out for her.”

  Tora saw Saburo flinch and looked at him. “Mrs. Kuruda?” he asked.

  “My mother,” murmured Saburo, hanging his head.

  “Speak up, son,” the little woman instructed him. “And always stand up straight, look people in the eye, and speak clearly. Have you forgotten everything I taught you?”

  Saburo straightened. “No, Mother,” he said more loudly.

  She returned her attention to Tora. “What brings you home? I thought you were with your master in Otsu.”

  “Umm, I had some free time and thought I’d look in to see that everything is all right.” Tora shot another glance at Saburo.

  “Not necessary. Now that I’m here, I’ll make sure of it. A good thing I decided to look in on Saburo. Everything’s at sixes and sevens without your mistress. Saburo told me she died in childbed, poor woman. A woman’s karma is a terrible thing. We bring our children into this world in pain and suffering. We raise them in the sweat of our brow, going without food so that they may eat, we slave for them, teach them, watch over them, hold them when they’re sick, and never ask for anything in return. We give our lives to see them live, while men just go their own ways without a care in the world.”

  Tora gaped at her. “That’s not really what happens,” he protested.

  “Pish pash! What difference? She died giving birth, and now the household is left without a mistress.”

  “Well, my wife and Genba’s are looking after the children and the house. And there’s a cook and a maid.”

  “All very well, but it’s not the same, is it?”

  There was no denying that, so Tora said nothing.

  “Right,” she said. “Now you’d better get cleaned up. You missed dinner, but I’ll have the cook reheat something. Off you go now. I have things to do. I can’t stand here gossiping.” She waddled away as briskly as she had come.

  “I’m sorry,” Saburo muttered.

  “That’s your mother?” Tora was still looking after her. “You never said anything. Where’d she come from?”

  “It’s a long story. Come, you’d better do as she said or it’ll make things worse.”

  Tora frowned. “She’s not my mother, and you look like you wish she wasn’t yours. You have a lot to explain, brother.”

  Saburo sighed. “I was sent to the monks when I was ten. She had some crisis of faith and thought making me a monk would save both our souls.”

  “That doesn’t explain her sudden appearance. You’ve never talked about your family. What about your father? Is he going to turn up, too?”

  ”My father died. By that time I was in training as a spy and not allowed to see my family. Not that I wanted to.”

  “Out with the whole story. How is it that she’s suddenly here after all that time?”

  Saburo looked at the house, then gazed at the gate, the stables and the kitchen buildings beyond almost as if he were trying to memorize them. “I’ll have to leave,” he said sadly. “I can’t throw her out, and therefore we’ll both have to go. I’m sorry.”

  Tora regarded him, his eyebrows raised. “Why should you go? Surely she’ll return to her own home after a visit with you.”

  “My sister’s husband threw her out. She has no place to go.” He added bitterly, “They helped her find me.”

  “They threw her out? That’s terrible. But don’t worry. The master will make her welcome just like he made Hanae and Ohiro welcome. She’s your mother, man.”

  Saburo gave him a desperate look. “I could never inflict my mother on his household.”

  “Don’t be silly. Look, I want to see Hanae now. Why don’t you get Genba and Ohiro, and we’ll put our heads together about this matter.”

  Saburo nodded and walked off.

  He walks like an old man, Tora thought, shaking his head—and all because his mother came to see him. What’s the matter with people?

  He did not bother to ponder this question but went straight to his own small house, where Hanae squealed with joy and threw herself into his arms.

  When they both emerged from the joyous reunion, and Tora had explained his black eye, he spared a thought for his son. “Where’s Yuki?”

  “With the schoolmaster. Oh, Tora, he’s making such good progress. You must be proud.”

  “Hmm.” The fact was that Tora did not approve. His secret fear that his son would be smarter than his father had already come to pass when Yuki had dared correct Tora’s speech and offered to read him a story he had written.

  Hanae said, “It was most generous of the master to educate our son. And I think he’ll do the same for the others.”

  Of the “others” there was so far only one, and she arrived wailing in the arms of her mother Ohiro. Genba, all smiles and solicitude these days, walked behind. His first words typically concerned his daughter. “Tamiko’s cutting another tooth,” he said
proudly. “What do you think of that?”

  Tora thought it an unfortunate nuisance when they were to have a family council, but Genba’s joy in his child was so great that he did not have the heart. Genba was in his early fifties and had not expected to have a family. His changed life struck him as miraculous, and he assumed others shared his feelings.

  Saburo trailed in, looking more dejected than before.

  “What’s this about?” asked Ohiro, jiggling the baby.

  “Saburo’s mother,” Tora told her.

  “Oh!” Her face fell.

  An uncomfortable silence ensued, then Hanae said brightly, “She’s a very helpful lady.”

  Saburo snorted.

  “Saburo’s afraid the master won’t like it,” said Tora.

  Another silence fell.

  Saburo sighed. “My mother makes trouble. She’s not your usual mother.”

  “Well,” said Hanae practically, “I don’t think she means to make trouble. It’s just her way. She wants to make things better.”

  Saburo snorted again.

  “He can’t tell her to go away,” pointed out Tora.

  “I can go with her,” said Saburo.

  There was an immediate outcry against this. Genba said stoutly, “I think she’s a fine woman. You have to make allowances. She comes from a family with money. Now she’s fallen on hard times. It must be dreadful to have your own children dislike you.” He glanced worriedly at his own offspring.

  Hanae looked at her husband. “I think Tora should go back and tell the master about Mrs. Kuruda. When he hears that she has no other place to go, he’ll welcome her. We can manage.”

  Saburo shook his head. “You don’t know what you’re saying, Hanae. I cannot inflict my mother’s tongue on anyone else. A fast tongue is sharper than a fast sword. The gods know how I fear it myself. She’ll tell a praying monk he’s doing it wrong.”

  “I’m surprised at you, Saburo,” Tora said with a frown. “Filial piety demands that we honor our parents and serve them all their lives. This is your duty. Really, brother, I’m shocked.”

  The others nodded their agreement.