The Dragon Scroll (36 page)

Tora got to his feet. “Hidesato’s not there. He and Ayako went off to the bathhouse this morning.” As soon as he said it, he flushed crimson. “That is, he went to the bathhouse. I don’t know where she went.” He took a deep breath. “If you don’t need me,” he said, “I guess I’d better get over there quick,” and ran out.

The room seemed to dim, as if a large cloud had passed over the sun. Akitada sat back up. For a long time he just stayed there, hunched over, twisting his hands. What was it that Seimei had said? “More fearful than a tiger is the scarlet silk of a woman’s undergown.” He had been warning him against Lady Tachibana at the time. Ayako was not the type to wear a scarlet undergown. She was no pampered, perfumed seductress. Ayako was clean and natural as life itself. But Ayako had betrayed him.

When the pain hit, it was sharp as a sword thrust into his belly. He cried out and doubled over, hugging himself and rocking back and forth.

“Sir? Sir? What’s wrong?”

Seimei’s voice, frantic with worry, penetrated the fog of grief and pain. Akitada opened his eyes and willed himself to relax his body and unclench his hands. “Nothing,” he croaked. “A cramp. My empty stomach rebelling.”

Relief washed over Seimei’s anxious face. “Is that all? I brought the gruel. Boiled it with herbs. That’s what took so long.” He pressed a bowl into Akitada’s hands and watched him as he sipped the thin gruel. It tasted like bile. “You don’t look well,” he said dubiously.

Somehow Akitada managed to force the food down and, surprisingly, felt slightly better. He lay down and closed his eyes. “I’m tired, Seimei,” he said listlessly.

“Yes, yes. You sleep a little. Later I will bring you more food, some nourishing fish broth with noodles perhaps.” Seimei quietly gathered the dishes and tiptoed from the room.

The pain returned. Not so sharply perhaps, but as a dull soreness seeping from his belly into his head, like thick black ink soaked up by a sponge. And with it came a sense of profound loss—as if he himself had been swallowed up by this dark flood.

Too much had happened. He was no longer the same man who had relished this ill-omened assignment in hopes of serving his emperor well and finally fulfilling his mother’s expectations. It seemed to him now that that Akitada had been a foolish dreamer, that nothing was as he had thought, least of all himself.

This made him angry, but his anger was not directed at Ayako or, he thought, at the scruffy sergeant. Would not any sane man take such a gift if it were offered? And why should not Ayako, for whatever reasons motivated her—pity, curiosity, or affinity—offer herself to Hidesato as readily and naturally as she had given herself to him? No doubt Akitada, too, had aroused feelings of pity or curiosity in her. She had probably thought him a pathetic weakling, much like Tora once had. Or perhaps she had taken him to the bathhouse to find out how noblemen from the capital made love.

Ayako had always lived by her own rules and never promised him anything. It was he, in his arrogance, who had believed that she must feel for him what he had felt, no, was still feeling, for her. Ayako belonged to no one, not even Hidesato.

This thought made him feel a little better until it occurred to him that Hidesato might like such an arrangement. What if this rough soldier took his pleasure with Ayako and afterward simply walked away without another thought, treating casually that which had been offered casually? He pictured the two of them on the grass mat together, and a desperate rage seized him.

There was a scratching at the door.

“Are you awake, my dear Akitada?” asked Motosuke, peering through the opening.

“Yes,” said Akitada, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. “Please come in.”

“I brought Akinobu and Yukinari. You do not mind?”

“No, no. Come in and sit down.”

Yukinari and Akinobu filed in slowly, bowing and casting dubious glances at him. Yukinari’s head was without its bandage, but a thick scab had formed near his hairline and most of his forehead bore a purple bruise.

“I think there is some tea left,” said Akitada, “or would you prefer wine?”

Nobody wanted anything. They seated themselves. Yukinari and Akinobu asked politely about his health, then fell silent.

“The governor told me that you are filling in for Ikeda,” Akitada said to Akinobu, trying to banish the image of the lovers from his mind. “It will be difficult to carry out both responsibilities, especially since the matter of the tax conspiracy is complex and time-consuming.”

Akinobu bowed. “I was fortunate in finding a number of bright and reliable people in the prefecture,” he said in his dry voice. “Once order was established, the normal routine could be resumed. I expect to leave prefectural matters in the capable hands of the head clerk when I have other duties. Just now I have given him full instructions about the criminals named by Your Excellency. A special team of constables familiar with the local underworld is searching for the three men, and I hope to report their arrests by tonight.”

“Thank you. Well,” said Akitada, looking at the others, “arresting Joto and his supporters during the temple festival will be more difficult. We must at all costs avoid bloodshed. Our man has proven again and again that he can act swiftly and decisively, and that human lives mean nothing to him. The temple enclosure will be packed with townspeople and pilgrims, and his monks are trained fighters who have an armory of halberds in one of the storehouses. No doubt other weapons are hidden elsewhere on the grounds. We have only the element of surprise on our side.”

Yukinari spoke up. “What sorts of weapons and how many?”

“I only know about the
naginata,
but in the capital there were rumors of weapon shipments to the east. On the journey here, I had occasion to see the barrier logs at Hakone. They showed an unusual number of religious objects passing along the eastern road in this direction. It is likely that those objects were, in fact, arms destined for the Temple of Fourfold Wisdom. A man like Joto would have little compunction about causing a bloodbath on the temple grounds or of plunging the province into civil war to preserve himself.”

Akitada looked at the three men and wondered how each would act under the stress of the coming days. Yukinari’s fists were clenched. He muttered something under his breath, but Akitada judged him to be above average in courage. Besides, his conscience would spur him on to give his life, if necessary, to atone for his affair with Lady Tachibana.

Motosuke, normally buoyed by high spirits, looked drawn and grave, but Akitada knew now that Motosuke was his friend and committed to their undertaking. While Motosuke had much to lose if they failed, he would also gain enormous prestige by subduing an incipient rebellion.

“I blame myself,” said Motosuke when their eyes met, “that this conspiracy should have grown to such proportions without my knowledge.”

Akinobu said quickly, “You could not have known, Governor. Buddhist clergy are revered and protected from the normal checks and searches we carried out everywhere else. Besides, Ikeda seems to have covered up all misdeeds by Joto’s monks.”

Akinobu’s loyalty to Motosuke was as impressive as his sense of personal honor. He had been ready to sacrifice his family property to make some sort of restitution for thefts he had not been responsible for. Had Motosuke still been a suspect, Akinobu might have been his accessory, but that possibility had been eliminated long ago.

“I knew it!” muttered Yukinari. “Ikeda’s been involved all along. That’s why he ignored all my complaints.”

“Yes.” Akitada sighed. “I hope we find him alive.”

Akinobu cleared his throat. “I am, no doubt, very obtuse,” he said apologetically, “but may I ask what caused Your Excellency to identify Joto and Ikeda as the conspirators?”

It was a reasonable question from a man who was used to accounting for the smallest detail in the documents he had been handling all his life, but the new Akitada was impatient with details. With an effort he dragged his thoughts from his troubles and said, “I started my investigation with the usual questions. When someone acquires sudden wealth as the result of a major robbery, there are signs in the local economy unless the person resides outside the province. I found many such signs here. The economy had improved dramatically recently. Merchants prospered, at least one of them beyond all expectation. Rapid new building was under way everywhere, most strikingly in three places, at the Temple of Fourfold Wisdom, at the governor’s residence, and at the garrison.”

“I used personal and discretionary funds to strengthen the garrison and add to my residence,” Motosuke said defensively, “and I assumed Joto’s preaching attracted large donations.”

“I have seen your accounts,” Akitada said with a smile. “But the temple prospered too quickly. Its fame had not reached the capital, and there was not enough money in local coffers to pay for its expansion. Seimei and I studied the historical records in your archives and in Tachibana’s library. Joto started his building program shortly after the first tax convoy was ambushed.”

“I should have made the connection,” said Yukinari, “but when I arrived, there was a general mood of enthusiastic support for the temple.”

Akitada nodded. “Exactly. Why investigate good fortune? I’m afraid the people will not like what we are about to do. But their good fortune also brought crime, violence, and corruption to this city. Everywhere Tora and I went, there was dissatisfaction with the local administration. We were told that calling the constables was useless, because the appointed officials themselves took bribes. This first alerted me to Ikeda. From what I had seen of the man, it was not incompetence or dereliction of duty that had caused the breakdown of trust between prefect and citizen. That left greed, and I came to suspect him. My servant Tora first linked Ikeda to Joto. He had an instinctive dislike for both men. As it turned out, Ikeda and Joto are perfect allies. Joto had the men and means to carry out the robberies, and Ikeda, as the local prefect, provided the details about time, route, and military strength for each convoy.”

Motosuke and Akinobu exchanged looks. “Impossible,” said Motosuke. “Ikeda was not involved in the planning of the tax convoys. He could not have known those things.”

“Are you certain?” asked Akitada, astonished.

Motosuke nodded. “Akinobu and I always met in my library with the garrison commandant. Only the three of us knew precisely the circumstances and details of the shipments. Only we three checked the goods in the tribunal warehouse and only we counted the gold and silver bars before packing them in boxes and sealing them.”

Akitada’s eyes went to the incense burner. “By any chance,” he asked, “did you pack the boxes near your elegant incense burner?”

Akinobu gasped. “Yes. How did you know, Excellency? We had a little accident the last time with that incense burner. It rolled against one of the boxes, and before we realized it, it had burned the leather.”

Akitada smiled. “We found a leather box with an odd burn mark on it in the temple storehouse.”

“The box was at the temple?” cried Motosuke. “But that proves the monks got the gold. Perhaps we will find the other goods there also.”

“Much of the rice will have been traded,” Akitada said, “but I have a good notion that some of the silk is stored in town, in a certain silk merchant’s house. The merchant became wealthy overnight, it seems, built a wall around his compound, and is visited regularly by monks from the temple.” Akitada looked at Akinobu. “On the day of the temple festival, I think you had best send your men there for a thorough search.”

Akinobu bowed.

The sun had moved. Where it shone on the teapot and brazier, a drop of water at the end of the spout sparkled with a burst of colors, and in a moment grief returned. Just so had the beads of moisture glistened on her golden skin in the steam of the bath, just so had the water sparkled like a net of jewels on her cheek.

“But how did Joto find out about our plans?” asked Motosuke.

Akitada forced his mind back to the business at hand. “If Ikeda had no information about the tax convoys,” he said slowly, “we may have overlooked another accomplice. Did any of you discuss the plans with others?”