by I. J. Parker
At that moment that the door opened a crack. The crack widened, and the woman crept in, stared at the struggling men, then ran over to gather up her child and lead her out of the room.
Saburo was dimly aware of the movement, but Hozo was about to break his wrist to loosen his grip on the knife and he had no time to look. Then the pain in his hand and wrist became unbearable and his fingers opened.
He was certain he was about to die. At the hands of this animal!
The thought gave him the strength to ram his knee into Hozo's groin.
Hozo gave a shrill scream and curled up. The knife was back in Saburo's hand, and he thrust it deep into the other man's belly, twisting it to cut across. Blood poured forth, and Hozo screamed again.
The cut was the same a warrior used when committing suicide after a lost battle and much too good for Hozo, but it served.
Saburo staggered up and away from the bloody, writhing figure on the floor. The knife fell from his fingers, either because his hand was slick with Hozo's blood or because his wrist had finally given way.
The room was empty except for Saburo and the dying man. The little girl was gone. Saburo was glad. But Hozo's screams had been heard. There was shouting outside and the sound of people running.
It was not over yet.
He glanced up at the beams. They were his escape route, but it was much easier to jump down from a beam than up to it. Besides, all his strength seemed to have left him, and his right hand was throbbing and useless.
The shouts were coming closer. Saburo saw an old clothes trunk and pushed it under one of the beams. Making use again of his silk rope, he pulled himself up with his left arm. It took two tries and a final desperate effort. The running steps were on the stairs and then in the hallway by the time he managed to get his lean belly onto the beam and pulled his legs after.
The door flew open below and people pressed in, calling out in shock.
Saburo slid into the darkness, then got up to walk along the beam to the opening in the roof. There he had another unpleasant moment, but this time the distance was not great. He jumped, gripped, pulled himself up, and slid out onto the roof.
The night had become cloudy. Below, he saw people milling about with torches and decided he had wasted too much time already. Running lightly across the roof, he jumped down to the roof below. He paused a moment to see if he had been noticed, but the firelight made it unlikely that anyone would see the dark figure on the dark roof, and inside the dying Hozo held their attention. He slid down one of the gallery supports and then dropped over the railing to the ground at the back of the building.
A short time later he was outside the compound, breathing hard, cradling his damaged hand against his chest, and so exhausted that he fell into one of the irri gation ditches next to the road. He lay there without moving, letting the water seep through his clothes, welcoming its coolness, and regretting that he had not come on horseback.
27 Fireflies
Since his choice of inns was small, Akitada simply walked the short distance to the Golden Dragon and requested a room. Somewhat to his sur prise, the innkeeper, a short, rotund main with a wide smile, treated him as an honored guest in spite of his disreputable attire. The room was more expensive than lhe one in the River Palace but it had the added attraction of being far in the back and over the river. Instead of the noise from Uji-tachi's main street, which tended to last into the morning hours, he would sleep to the soothing sounds of the water. Akitada left his baggage and went back to pay for two nights and to order a bath for later.
He had decided to abandon his pseudonym-too many people already knew his true identity-and signed the register as Sugawara, giving the capital as his home. He doubted that this innkeeper would compare notes with the Inabes.
Back in his room, he unpacked his writing utensils and wrote two brief letters home. One sheet was for Yukiko. He told her he hoped to return soon but complications had arisen. He added a brief line: "I dream of orange blossoms, recalling your sleeves about my neck." It was not very good, but he hoped she would know how much he missed her.
Then he dashed off a second note to Saburo, assuring him that all was well and to tell Tora to keep an eye on things for a few more days. These he posted at the local post station.
It was still too early to visit Junichiro's shed. He had intended to find out all he could about the prowlers, but lieutenant Matsuura, his best source, had become unhelpful. His lack of progress depressed him. To be sure, the sense of urgency to rescue the Virgin was gone. By now she was either dead or being held somewhere. In either case, there was nothing he could do for her. His duty then was to discover what was going on and, if possible, prevent further disaster. He had spent four days here already and achieved nothing. And that reminded him that he had promised to report to the chief priest.
The visit presented a couple of problems. He could hardly reveal the truth about the princess's love affair with Minamoto, and he was no longer sure if he could trust Nakatomi. If the princess had been abducted, then someone was playing a dangerous game and this shadowy person's interests were not local but must he with the court in the capital. He did not think Nakatomi was the mastermind behind this, but the priest could be an accomplice.
He shuddered at the thought that the imperial suc. cession itself might be the object of the plot.
At the chief priest's house he was received by lady Nakatomi, a grandmotherly sort of woman with a sweet smile. He was instantly tempted to absolve her husband of all nefarious activities because he had no wish to see this pleasant lady hurt.
"My husband is filling in for one of the other priests today," she said. "He should be back soon. Won't you come and take some refreshment?"
She did not know his name, proof that Nakatomi had kept his secret, but since there was no longer any point in the pretense, he introduced himself.
She bowed, led him into a very pleasant room that faced the garden, and placed a cushion near her own where she had evidently been sewing some piece of clothing. Clapping her hands for a maid servant, she ordered some light refreshments.
"I don't like to interrupt your work, lady Nakatomi," Akitada said, gesturing to the sewing implements. "I could wait for your husband elsewhere."
"Not at all." She smiled at him. "If you'll allow me, I shall go on with my sewing while you refresh yourself. I think a meal is always nicer eaten in company."
"Very true. This is kind of you."
The maid returned with wine and chilled fruit juice as well as a plate of nuts and sliced fruit. He asked for the fruit juice and drank thirstily. It was delicious, as were the slices of melon and segments of oranges.
She smiled at him between stitches. "It has been a bountiful year. The gods have blessed us. Have you enjoyed your visit to Ise?"
"Very much. Thank you for your concern." No point in burdening this charming lady with his worries or the fact that he had nearly been killed. It struck him that the good people living in their mansions, palaces, and hunting lodges were probably as unaware of sinister bands of prowlers roaming about outside as they were of the hectic life in Uji-tachi with its wine houses and brothels.
She surprised him, however. "I believe you are the new governor of Mikawa across the bay. Did you find the problems with coastal piracy very troubling?"
He said cautiously, "I have not been in Mikawa long enough to be very familiar with such matters, but I shall certainly be keeping an eye on it. Is Ise province taking any action?"
"I have not heard that they have. We hear rumors now and then of ships being boarded and travelers robbed. If they were on their way here, they report to our police, but the police are ill equipped to deal with crime on the seas when they have their hands full with visitors losing their money in more usual ways."
So much for lady Nakatomi's ignorance of the troubles outside her walls. He smiled and said, 'You must wonder about the princess.'
"I did not want to ask. Many men would consider it none of my business.
"
"Your husband told me that you assisted in the impersonation for the summer festival. It was very helpful and great credit is due to you and your family for avoid ing a scandal. I'm afraid I have not yet discovered the princess's whereabouts and carne to tell your husband. "Oh," she said and dropped her sewing in her lap. "Poor child. Something must be very wrong."
"I hope not," said Akitada, though he had little faith in it.
"She is always very sweet. We have known her from the beginning. Princess Takahime is an imperial lady, but to me she was like another daughter when she came." She looked at Akitada beseechingly. "I have been so worried. You must do what you can."
This simple plea had the effect of changing Akitada's attitude toward Takahime profoundly. He had taken her to be a foolish young woman who risked the safety of the nation for selfish and prurient reasons. In fact, he had felt little beyond irritation and disgust for her. Now he saw her through the eyes of this kind lady as a young girl who was surely suffering great fear, and possibly worse. He said, "I Will, Lady Nakatomi.
There were noises of arrivals outside, and a moment later, the door was pushed wide and a young woman in bright red silk trousers and a white silk jacket glided in gracefully, crying "Mother . . ." and stopping with a look of dismay on her pretty face when she saw that her mother had company. She bowed deeply. "I beg your pardon."
"My daughter Nobuko," Lady Tachibana introduced. "She has assisted her father. Nobuko, this is Lord Sugawara who has come to speak to your father."
Lady Nobuko was a shrine maiden, and as such she had impersonated the princess during the great summer ceremony. Akitada regarded her with some respect. Shrine maidens were frequently the daughters of priests and were raised in shrine duties which included not only the protocol of the ceremonies themselves, but also the performance of sacred dances. Lady Nobuko wore the traditional costume of a shrine maiden and looked charming, though clearly embarrassed at the moment.
Akitada bowed and smiled at her. "No need to apologize, Lady Nobuko. I was so thoughtless as to arrive unannounced myself."
Nakatomi, still in his white robe aid trousers, arrived next, nodded to Akitada, and said to his family, "Forgive us, but we have business to discuss."
His wife hurried to gather her sewing, but Akitada said, "As both your wife and your daughter know already about the princess, perhaps they may wish to stay. I have just told your lady that I have not yet laid eyes on Princess Takahime and came to report my failure."
Nakatomi frowned, but came to sit down beside his wife. His daughter took a seat somewhat behind them.
"You have made no progress at all?" Nakatomi asked.
"Only a little and I'm afraid that little gives even greater concern. It appears that Princess Takahime has disappeared while on a stroll outside her palace. This happened two days ago. Since then there has been no sight of her."
Lady Nakatomi gave a small cry and covered her mouth. Her husband put his hand on her arm as if to calm her and asked, "Two days ago? But she's been gone for over a month."
"No, it appears that she was in her palace all along but indisposed and unable to perform her duties." "She's really been ill?" cried his wife. "Oh, the poor girl. I wish I might have gone to look alter her. What was the matter?"
"I'm not sure," Akitada lied.
"'That lying female Tamba," Nakatomi exploded. "I knew she'd do anything to prevent me from speaking to Her Highness. And I take it she's still hiding the truth. But what has been done to find the princess?"
"I can only speak for myself. I have no idea what steps the palace has taken, though I suspect lady Tamba was too afraid to turn to the local authorities."
"Well, at least she's not created a scandal, but what have you done?'"
"I have taken an interest in certain local events in hopes of understanding who might have abducted the princess."
"Abducted?" cried the priest.
"There are only two reasonable explanations. Either the princess was injured and died, or someone took her and is hiding her."
"You think she is dead? Oh, how terrible!" moaned Lady Nakatomi. Tears had risen to her eyes.
"Forgive me, Lady Nakatomi. No body has been found, so it's unlikely that she is dead."
"Then someone has her." The priest glowered at Akitada as if he held him personally responsible for such a thing.
His daughter suddenly said, "There may be another explanation."
Her parents looked at her reprovingly, but Akitada asked, "Yes, Lady Nobuko?"
She blushed and said in a low voice, "She may have gone to someone of her own free will."
"Nobuko," scolded her mother. "What a thing to suggest!"
Her father snapped, "Impossible. She's the Ise Virgin."
Akitada suppressed a snort. He said, "Lady Nobuko is quite right. I suspect she may have set out to do just that, but she never arrived."
"Where?" cried Nakatomi? "What are you suggesting? I forbid all of you to bandy about such sacrilegious nonsense."
Akitada sighed. "Let us concentrate on finding her. It would help me if you could tell me something about all the persons in this district who may be said to be important in one way or another. For while there is a gang called the prowlers who prey on travelers on the roads, it does not seem likely that such men would dare an abduction without being ordered to do so." Nakatomi had turned very pale. He stared at Akitada and dabbed perspiration from his forehead. "Dear heavens, what is happening to us all? Gangs on our roads? Abductions of young women? Two recent murders? Are they also part of this?"
"Perhaps. I'm trying to find out what I can. Unfortunately, the local police chief has become tired of my meddling."
Nakatomi bowed his head. "Apart from those belonging to the Bamboo Palace, I know of only two men of rank and power. They are Minamoto Sadamu and Sukemichi Yasunori. Minamoto is distantly related to the princess and above reproach. Sukemichi is the high constable of Ise province. Both men come here to hunt. I find it difficult to associate either with the scenario you have described."
Akitada had not expected great revelations but was disappointed nevertheless. He asked, "Have you had further instructions from the capital?"
The priest shrank even more into himself. "Only a request for news. Dear gods, I shall have to report this. I suppose you have already done so?"
"No. It is, of course, up to you, but I shall push on with my investigation in hopes of finding out something soon. I don't want to risk being recalled."
The priest looked at him searchingly. "You have some idea then? I shall wait a little longer if you can give me some hope."
"Just a hint of an idea," Akitada said, knowing full well that his vague ideas had no foundation is actual facts."
He left after this. The sun had set and night had fallen, and he had a long walk ahead of him. It was too early for the prowlers, but Akitada walked quickly and kept his hand on his sword hilt. The woods had become ominous to him and every small sound startled him. He wished for Tora for the first time. Tora's cheerful optimism and his raw courage would have lifted his spirits. For that matter, Saburo, the former spy, would be highly useful once he had some notion where the princess was kept.
When he saw the lights of the town ahead, he put these thoughts aside. He was not yet a helpless old man who could not handle himself without assistance. This was a chance to prove to himself that he was still young and active enough to be a fit husband for Yukiko.
Alas, his dinner invitation reminded him that he owed his life to a dwarf.
Junichiro's shed was lit festively by a number of paper lanterns. Akitada called out when he reached the door, and Junichiro shouted, "Come around back, master."
There were more lanterns here. Akitada's heart warmed to the grand effort the little man had made to give him a festive entertainment.
Junichiro was bent over a large hibachi; stirring the charcoal and testing the heat of the griddle with a drop of water. "Please be seated, master," he said, turning to gr
eet him, his face almost as red as his spiky hair.
Akitada sat down on a cushion placed near the railing and at some distance from the cooking area. A chipped flask and several unmatched cups stood ready. Junichiro had also been shopping in town for pickled plums, radish, and seaweed crackers. These were displayed on large cabbage leaves.
"I hope you haven't spent all the money you earned on this feast," Akitada said, eyeing the offerings with amazement.
"Don't worry. The best part was free. Lookl" He lifted up a very large, fat carp. "Still alive until a few moments ago. I kept him in a cage floating in the river. And there will be rice, too. The good kind, not the dirty brown stuff they sell me as a rule. Have some wine while I make this fish comfortable on the fire." '
The wine was also good. Akitada felt both ashamed and flattered-flattered that Junichiro, though desperately poor, should have gone to such expense for him, and ashamed that his own status laid such a burden on the young man. He decided to express his appreciation by praising the food and eating with gusto.
As they waited for the fish to cook, Akitada reported on his day. The dwarf frowned when he heard about the arrest of the monk but was inclined to think that he could well be guilty of attacking Keiko. It appeared that there was no love lost between the dwarf and Buddhist priests. The visit to the shrine priest left him shaking his head.
"So everybody now knows who you are and what you're doing here?" he asked. "Don't you think that was stupid? Whoever's behind this will try to kill you again."
"I doubt it. They probably knew already. Confirmation may make them afraid to stir up a great outcry." Junichiro looked doubtful. "As for me," he said, "when I wasn't busy with your dinner, I asked around about Murata. He always stays in the River Palace and goes out during the day, but nobody knows where. At night, he's back. He visits the brothels sometimes, usually the Peach Bower, but not so much lately. He must have a woman somewhere. I tried to find out, but the madam chased me away." Under his breath, the dwarf called her something Akitada did not understand. He refrained from asking for a translation.