The Convict's Sword (3 page)

Some days he felt the shame of that half-forgotten promise almost like a physical blow, or a sword thrust into his belly, like the agonizing wound that had taken Haseo’s life.

Tamako still waited for an explanation, and he forced himself to smile. “I suppose it brought back some bad memories.”

“Oh.” She smiled also, relieved. “Yes, it’s a wonder you don’t have nightmares. But you’re home now and must not let the past trouble you. We are all healthy and happy, and you finally got your promotion this year. All will be well. It will be a fine year for you, you’ll see.” Slowly a faint pink crept up her slender neck and into her smiling face. “And perhaps there will soon be another child, too.”

Though Akitada forced himself to show her a happy face, depression returned when he left for his office.

The fact was, the previous day had been a disaster. A small quarrel between the two young ministry clerks had led to an unpleasant confrontation between himself and the minister. Nakatoshi, an intense young man who wrote a very elegant hand and was therefore Soga’s clerk, had lost his temper with Akitada’s clerk, Sakae. Sakae’s characters resembled chicken scratches, though he insisted that his speed produced a cursive script much admired among the younger courtiers. The two were jealous of each other.

Yesterday Nakatoshi had followed Akitada to his office, a large room furnished with a low desk and many shelves holding document boxes and rolls of book scrolls. Akitada had moved up in the world since his promotion, much against the will of Minister Soga, to be sure, who had done his utmost to banish Akitada from his sight permanently. He had failed because Akitada had a few friends who interceded for him, and now Soga relieved his frustration by heaping as much work as possible on his detested senior secretary. The large desk had been covered with papers.

Akitada had stopped in astonishment. “What happened? We worked late last night and finished all the pending cases. There was nothing left. What is all this?”

“I am very sorry, sir, but the minister sent a messenger. You are to have these ready for him when he arrives.”

“Where is Sakae?”

“He stepped out for a breath of fresh air.” Nakatoshi bit his lip. “Could I help, sir?”

Akitada had considered the offer. Nakatoshi was by far the brightest young law clerk to pass across the ministry’s threshold for some time, and he was eager for work. Therein lay the problem. Soga had instantly chosen Nakatoshi as his personal amanuensis, and Soga hardly ever did any work. That meant that Nakatoshi spent most of his time sitting outside the minister’s room, waiting to write a letter from Soga to a friend, or to copy a memorial or proposal with which Soga hoped to curry some favor or justify his position. All the real legal work was done by Akitada, with some minimal assistance from Sakae.

“It’s not as if I ever do anything important,” Nakatoshi had grumbled, eyeing the documents almost hungrily. “Soon I will have forgotten all I ever learned. I would be so grateful, sir, if you would allow me to help you and Sakae sometimes.”

But it would not do. If nothing else, Soga knew Nakatoshi’s brush too well. And so Akitada had said, “I’m afraid that anything which passes His Excellency’s desk is out of the question, but if you just want to keep your hand in and have spare time, you might check on an old case in the archives,” and he had told him about Haseo, condemned to exile for a crime he had not committed.

“It sounds like a fascinating project,” Nakatoshi had cried. “I shall need the family name and the date and nature of his crime.”

Haseo had revealed his former name reluctantly, and only at the brink of death. For serious crimes, a man’s name was taken from him as part of his sentence. This had hampered Akitada’s own searches. “I believe the family name was Utsunomiya, but since it was confiscated along with his property, it won’t do you much good. Most references have been expunged.”

“Ah,” Nakatoshi had cried, “that must have been a very significant case, sir. What are the details of the crime?”

“I don’t know. He died before he could tell me anything else.”

“You don’t know? But how am I to . . . ?”

“You may not find anything. I didn’t. But I had too little time for a thorough search. Whatever happened, happened over five years ago. When I reached Sadoshima, Haseo had already been there several months, perhaps as much as a year. Longer he would not have survived.” Nakatoshi had stared at this and Akitada had explained. “Conditions for prisoners on the island were very bad then. I believe they are more humane now. There is a chance that some reference to the Utsunomiya name escaped the attention of the clerk who was charged with removing it. Also, it is highly unlikely from what I know of the man that his crime was political. That leaves a possible domestic offense. His punishment suggests that the crime was particularly vicious. Or, alternatively, he may have become involved in a private dispute with a high-ranking noble and killed him. The latter seems the most likely scenario to me. If you were to look at cases that happened five to seven years ago and would justify his particular sentence, you might come across something.”

“Did it happen here in the capital, do you think?”

“Not necessarily. From what he said, he was raised in the country.”

“Oh.”

“Yes, I know. Like looking for a particular pebble in a very long stream. You don’t have to do it.”

“Oh, no, sir. I’ll get started as soon as His Excellency is finished with me.”

And at that moment, Sakae had walked in.

“Start what?” he had asked, his short, round-faced figure slipping in silently through the open doorway.

Akitada did not like his clerk, who was uncooperative, lazy, and insolent. He had greeted him with a frown. “I’ve been wondering what has become of you. There seems to be quite a bit of work here.”

Sakae had looked at the pile of documents and instantly protested, “I really don’t feel up to it today, sir. Why can’t Nakatoshi do it? I don’t understand why I always get all the work, while Nakatoshi has the time to stand around and chat.”

Nakatoshi cried, “You can have my job, Sakae. Take it. Right now! Go and wait for the minister to run his errands and take care of his social correspondence. You should find it most interesting, as it presents little challenge to your pitiful mind. And I’ll gladly do your work, which is at least related to legal matters, something that does not seem to hold much interest for you.”

Sakae did not take this well, and Akitada had intervened in the squabble of raised voices, when a sharp voice from the corridor demanded, “What is going on here?”

Instant silence followed.

The minister, portly and with his usual air of impatient superiority, typically focused his irritation on Akitada. “If you must reprimand the clerks, Sugawara, there is surely a more seemly way than shouting at the top of your voice. And what are you doing with Nakatoshi anyway?”

“It is my fault, Excellency,” Nakatoshi had said quickly. “I was arguing with Sakae. It was very wrong of me, and Lord Sugawara was quite right to correct me. I apologize, sir.”

But Soga was undeterred. “You should not permit arguments between the clerks, Sugawara. It shows a lack of proper authority. But I suppose your present position is perhaps, how shall I say, a bit too much for you?”

Akitada had bitten his lip. “Not at all, Excellency. May I be of some assistance to you?”

“Ah, yes. I came for your report.”

“I am afraid I’m not quite ready, Excellency. Perhaps in an hour?” More like four hours, but Soga might get busy with other things and forget.

“Not ready? What do you mean? You have had all morning. Surely you are not that incompetent? What is taking so long?”

At that moment, Sakae had murmured, “Lord Sugawara just arrived and has not really had time to read the documents, Excellency. I’m certain he will prepare a brilliant report as soon as he puts his mind to them.”

Soga had stared from Sakae to Akitada. “Just arrived? Not had time to read? How so, Sugawara? I sent a messenger at dawn and it is almost midday now.”

“I worked late last night clearing up the other cases and overslept, Excellency.”

“Hah!” Snapping his mouth shut after the single outraged syllable, Soga had stalked from the room, slamming the door behind him.

Bad as that scene had been, it had not ended there, and that was why Akitada dreaded the coming day. He approached Suzaku Gate along with a stream of government officials, clerks, scribes, and servants. Beyond rose the many green-tiled roofs of government buildings and palaces, some two hundred halls, great and small, in their own walled and gated compounds, their red-lacquered columns bright in the morning sun. Because of his stiff silk robe and the black hat with the colors of his rank, the guards saluted him. He nodded and turned left in front of the Grand Administration Hall, walking briskly along the wide avenue past the Festivals Hall, then turned left again and entered the courtyard of the Ministry of Justice.

He grew hot with anger when he recalled walking into So ga’s office after finishing the report. The minister had been seated at his desk, drumming his fingers impatiently on the glossy expanse. No piles of documents there. “Finally!” he had grunted, extending his hand. Akitada bowed and offered the stack of documents he was returning. “Not those, you fool,” snapped Soga. “The report only.”

Nakatoshi had rushed up to relieve Akitada of the documents. Akitada was too shocked to speak. For a moment, he considered a challenge, but killing Soga, while it would be a satisfying gesture, would also earn him exile. On the other hand, if word got out that he had allowed Soga to call him a fool, his reputation and career would be in shreds. In the end he had demanded, “What did you say just now?”

Soga had flushed and looked away. “What? Oh, I was speaking to Nakatoshi. Youngsters always have their minds on foolish things when they should be alert. Alertness is all, Nakatoshi. Remember that and be quicker next time. Er, you do have your report, Sugawara?”

“Yes, but I had hoped to give it orally. I had to send my clerk home. He was not well.”

Soga’s eyes had sharpened. “Sakae? Was it serious, do you think? A fever? There’s talk of smallpox in the city. Is he the sort of fellow to seek out bad company?”

“I don’t think so, sir. More likely he was at some poetry party and drank too much wine.”

“Ah, yes, I forgot. That boy has good connections. But you should have been done with the report when I arrived. I have already missed an important meeting because of your inattention to your duties. I hope you will not allow this to happen again.”

“No, sir. What about my report? Don’t you want to hear it now?”

“Certainly not. Write it out and leave it on my desk.” And without another glance at Akitada, Soga had left his office.

Today he found Nakatoshi waiting for him again. He looked tired and disappointed. His robe was creased and dusty, and a smell of stale candle wax hung about him.

“I found nothing, sir, even though I looked all night. I had all the document boxes down, every year from the beginning of Jian to the end of Chogen. You did say that it must have happened about five or six years ago, or perhaps a little more? I must have read all the major civil cases in the country in a ten-year period. Either there’s some mistake or another name has been substituted. Nobody by the name Utsunomiya was accused of anything during those years, and only one Haseo occurs and he was some peasant who killed both his parents. I’m sorry, sir. Did I overlook something?”

“Heavens, man,” cried Akitada, aghast, “I didn’t mean for you to stay up all night. No, I don’t think you missed anything. As I suspected, the name was expunged, and apparently rather thoroughly. I shall go to the Ministry of Popular Affairs later and have a look at the tax rolls.” Hearing a movement behind him, he swung around. He had left the door open. Steps padded away softly in the corridor outside.