The Dragon Scroll (34 page)

Read The Dragon Scroll Online

Authors: I. J. Parker

Tags: #Fiction, #Historical, #Mystery & Detective, #General, #Political

BOOK: The Dragon Scroll
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“Tora!” Seimei stamped his foot and raised his voice. “You forget your place. We have no business with these people. No doubt this sort of thing is common around here. Foul-smelling things attract flies, they say. Let’s finish our assignment and return to the tribunal, where our master is waiting. I am worn out with all this walking around slums.”

 

Tora flung around. Taking Seimei by the shoulders, he lifted him off the ground. Seimei’s eyes grew large with shock at the fury in Tora’s face. “You silly old fool,” Tora hissed. “You worthless official and servant of worthless officials! What do I care if you’re tired or if you’re too good to rub shoulders with low people? That dead woman up there is Hidesato’s girl, Jasmin, and they’ll arrest him for her murder as soon as they talk to the landlady. I’ve got to go warn him. Now do you understand?”

 

Seimei nodded several times, and Tora dropped him. “Go back to your precious tribunal. I don’t care,” Tora flung over his shoulder and walked out of the courtyard.

 

Seimei looked around at the hostile eyes watching him. The Rat turned his back. He had chosen to stay. “Wait, I’m coming,” Seimei shouted and ran.

 

He had to trot to keep up with Tora’s long strides. After a few minutes, he asked timidly, “What happened to the girl?”

 

Without slowing down, Tora said hoarsely, “Cut up! Her throat slit all the way to the neck bone. The rest of her ...” He glanced at Seimei and said, “Well, she’s been cut all over. The bastard tied her up and stuffed her shift in her mouth first to keep her from screaming while he had his fun. There’s an awful lot of blood. Puddles of it. Smeared all over the walls and soaked into the curtain! She was bleeding to death before he cut her throat.”

 

“Horrible!” gasped Seimei. “But why are they saying your friend did it?”

 

“Because the landlady saw Hidesato with Jasmin. They had a fight. She says the last thing she heard when she was leaving was him shouting, ‘Then you’re better off dead!’“

 

“People say such things without meaning them.”

 

“Tell that to the constables and the prefect,” growled Tora. “Officials don’t waste time on dead whores and common soldiers.” They had reached a quiet street, and Tora stopped in front of another tenement. “I guess this is the place. The landlady says Hidesato paid up Jasmin’s rent because she was moving in here with him.”

 

They found Hidesato sweeping the floor of an empty room. Some rolled-up grass mats stood near the door, and his clothes chest, with his armor and sword lying on top, was pushed against a wall. A brand-new roll of bedding lay in a corner.

 

“Tora!” Hidesato dropped the broom to embrace Tora, giving Seimei a nod and a smile. “Come in. How’d you find me so quick?” He unrolled the mats and spread them out for them to sit on. “Sorry I haven’t got anything to offer you. I’m getting the place ready for Jasmin!” He smiled happily. “Guess what, Tora. Now that I’ve got a sergeant’s pay, she’s finally given in. I’m going to be a married man.”

 

Tora looked around the bare room and bit his lip. “Her landlady said you had a fight with Jasmin. Did you tell her she was better off dead?”

 

“So that old bat was snooping again. Well, you know how women are. Jasmin was hard to convince. I guess I lost my temper a bit. But she came around in the end.”

 

Tora looked down. “Hidesato, Jasmin’s not coming.”

 

Hidesato’s grin faded. “You’re joking and it’s not funny. It
is
a joke ... isn’t it?”

 

Tora shook his head without looking up. Hidesato’s eyes went to Seimei, who began to inch out the door.

 

“What happened?”

 

Tora said, “I’m sorry, Hito. I wish I didn’t have to tell you.”

 

Hidesato turned pale. “That bastard hurt her again.”

 

“She’s dead, Hito.”

 

“She’s dead? Jasmin’s dead? It can’t be. I just saw her a couple of hours ago.”

 

“Someone got to her, cut her up, and left,” said Tora. “The landlady thinks it was you.”

 

Hidesato was on his feet. “Cut her up? I’ve got to go to her. Maybe she’s just hurt.”

 

Tora clasped his arm. “No. I saw her.”

 

With a wild look, Hidesato shook him off and made for the door. Tora tackled him, and they both fell to the floor. “She’s dead, Hidesato!” roared Tora. “You can’t go back there. They’ve called for the prefect and you’ll be arrested!”

 

The fight went out of Hidesato abruptly. He rolled onto his stomach and sobbed, pounding the floor with his fists.

 

They watched him in silence. Finally Tora put his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “You can’t stay here. The old bat has this address. I’m taking you to Higekuro’s for a few days till we get this cleared up. You remember my mentioning the crippled wrestler?”

 

Hidesato sat up. He looked dazed, his face wet with tears.

 

“Put a bundle together,” urged Tora.

 

Hidesato shook his head. “Why bother? Just let them arrest me. Nothing I touch ever turns out right. You’ll just get yourself and your friend in trouble.”

 

“Shut up and move!” snapped Tora. Hidesato stumbled up and looked vacantly around the room. Tora cursed, kicked the trunk open, found a large kerchief, and started tossing clothes into it. When he had enough, he knotted everything into a bundle and handed it to Hidesato. “Go take a look outside, Seimei,” he said, “and call if the street’s clear.”

 

Seimei rushed to obey. It was quite dark by now, but the street was empty. He gave the signal that all was safe.

 

Tora stopped on the way to buy two cheap paper lanterns from a vendor near the market before heading north. Between the blind walls of tenements and private homes, they passed side streets that opened like black tunnels into the unknown. At one of these they turned off toward Higekuro’s neighborhood. None of them felt like talking.

 

When they reached the wrestling school, Hidesato stopped. “I’ll kill the bastard, if it’s the last thing I do!”

 

Tora said quickly, “No, brother! That’s not the way. My master and I, we’ll find who did this. Why pay with your life for his?”

 

After a moment Hidesato nodded and allowed himself to be led inside.

 

To Seimei’s relief they did not stay after the introductions and explanations. He met the crippled wrestler and his daughters and thought it was as strange a household as he had ever seen and well suited to accommodate a fugitive like Hidesato. As for himself, he wanted nothing so much as to be in the familiar surroundings of their tribunal quarters.

 

But when they reached the tribunal, Tora walked right past it. Seimei cried out, “Where are you going? We’re home.”

 

“I’m going to talk to that prefect.”

 

“The prefect? Not now, Tora. I’m worried about the master. Or at least...couldn’t you go without me?”

 

Tora was immovable. “No,” he said. “You’re coming with me. Your proper robe and hat will get us past the constables and clerks.”

 

“Surely the prefect won’t be back yet.” Tora did not answer, and Seimei gave in, muttering merely, “So now you see how important a person’s clothes are.”

 

But the clerks and constables at the prefecture were too busy to be impressed by Seimei’s appearance. They were running about, shuffling Seimei and Tora from one brusque clerk to another. Finally a thin and tired-looking young man said, “It’s been such a night! First a maniac loose in the prostitution quarter, then the Tachibana case. I’m afraid the prefect will not be back for a while. Can I help?”

 

Painstakingly, Tora told the story of his encounter with Scarface and his thugs, then mentioned the Rat’s story about Jasmin being beaten by Scarface. The young clerk’s eyes narrowed as he listened. He said, “That does sound like very important information. You were quite right to come here immediately. If you will sit down over there, I’ll see to it that His Honor is informed as soon as he returns.”

 

Seimei and Tora sat. And sat. And finally fell to dozing. Some time much later the thin young clerk came and shook Seimei’s shoulder. “The prefect has retired for the night,” he said, looking apologetic. “He will want to talk to both of you, but I thought you might like to go home for a few hours’ sleep and come back in the morning.”

 

Tora staggered up. “In the name of a thousand demons...” he started furiously. The young clerk backed away and two drowsy constables came wide awake, reaching for their chains.

 

“No, Tora!” said Seimei. “Remember what you told Hidesato. The master will take care of it.”

 

Muttering curses against all lazy, crooked officials, Tora submitted.

 

Their quarters were dark when they got back. Seimei kicked off his shoes and opened the door quietly, shading his lantern. Tora was still taking off his boots when he heard Seimei cry out.

 

“The master! Quick, Tora! Something is wrong with the master.”

 

* * * *

 

SIXTEEN

 

 

AWAKENING

 

 

A

kitada was ill for three days. During this interval he was watched with the greatest anxiety by Seimei, Tora, and Motosuke. Servants and physicians came and went. The prognosis went from desperate to hopeful, and still the three watchers persisted, leaving only for meals or urgent business.

 

When Akitada finally came back to full awareness of himself and his surroundings, he happened to be alone. Sunlight filtered through the wooden lattices and fell in broad rectangles across his chest and bedding. Faint, pleasant traces of incense lurked in the air and dust motes danced in the sunlight.

 

Akitada’s first sense of himself was one of lightness, of floating almost. Intensely aware of the pleasurable warmth of the bedding and of the sun on his chest, he sighed. He had woken from a dream, one of many, he thought, but in this one he had been walking with Ayako, first in a mountain meadow, then through the grounds of a temple. Their hands had touched, and she had smiled at him.

 

The sun! It must be midday already, and he had missed their regular meeting.

 

Akitada sat up too suddenly, and the sunlit room turned black. Falling back with a groan, he remembered his illness the night before. He clearly was still in no condition to go to Ayako. Tora would have to take a message later.

 

He lay wondering idly where Tora and Seimei were and looked around the room. It had been cleaned, for he recalled vomiting before he had fallen asleep. Perhaps Tora had already gone to Higekuro’s and told them of his illness.

 

She would worry about him. The thought pleased him, and he smiled, wondering if what he felt was love. Their lovemaking had become more passionate each time they met, and they had fallen into an easy, affectionate familiarity with each other. The thought of parting from Ayako terrified him. For a foolish, dizzy moment, he imagined himself settling down here, as a judge perhaps, and raising a family with Ayako.

 

But he knew he had a duty to his mother and sisters and could not choose this happy exile, for exile it would be when neither Ayako nor their children could ever return to the capital. He closed his eyes and remembered their last meeting. She had leaned over him, both of them naked, their skin moist from steam and their passion. Her eyes had been dreamy, half-closed, and she had bent down till her lips had touched his face. She had placed kisses, light as the touch of a petal, on his closed eyes, his nose, his mouth. Then with the tip of her tongue she had traced the lines of perspiration to his eyebrows, hairline, ears, and when she reached his lips, she had teased them open to plunge her tongue deeply into his mouth in passionate imitation of his own act of love earlier. Akitada had never been loved by a woman before.

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