Black Arrow

SIXTEEN
THE SHELL GAME

It was only late afternoon, but lanterns swaying from the rafters of therestaurant already cast a smoky golden light over the flushed and shining facesof men; old and young, poor and well-to-do, laborers and merchants werecelebrating with the champions of the wrestling contest. Harried waitressesmoved among the guests, pouring warm wine and carrying heaping trays of pickledvegetables and fried fish. Someone was singing along with the folk tunes playedby an old zither player, and Tsuneya, the champion, was giving a soloperformance of a local dance on a sake barrel.

Genba was there also,surrounded by his own circle of supporters. It mattered little to Genba’s fansthat he had lost the final match; he had come very close to winning, and thatwas reason enough for them to celebrate. And there was always next year.

Akitada, a stranger to all butGenba, stayed well in the background. He had come to congratulate Genba andbecause he wanted to gauge the mood of the local people. Their light-heartedrevels reassured him, but his thoughts were on the coming night and hisattention on the door to the restaurant.

Genba did not look at allunhappy with his loss to Tsuneya and was soaking up compliments, food, and winein enormous portions. Akitada had put aside his fanciful notions about thecontest somehow forecasting his future and felt relieved that Genba had notwon. Winning the title would have meant his departure for the capital toperform before the emperor.

Thinking of this, Akitadaleaned toward Genba and asked, “Will you continue with your wrestling?”

Genba put down his cup andburped softly behind his hand. Then he grinned, patting his huge midriff. “Sorry,sir. I’ve had no wine during training and now it seems to put wind in my belly.As for the wrestling, well, I guess it’s in my blood. I was amazed how easilyit all came back to me. And that was a good match today, sir. Never think theyare yokels fresh from the farm or mountain men who live in caves the rest ofthe year. No, people honor the art hereabouts. Tsuneya has a very good chanceof becoming national champion.”

“I could see that.” Akitada’sheart sank at the thought that he was losing Genba after all. But he addedbravely, “I had no idea that you were so good. I was very proud of you.”

“Thank you, sir.” Genba lowered his eyes and scratched his shiny scalp, overcome with embarrassment.

The either player struck up another tune, and Akitada’s eyes wandered to the door again. Nothing. “So, I suppose,” he persisted, “you will not wish to take up your duties at the tribunal now?”

Genba stared at Akitada, his smile fading. “Why not? Don’t you want me anymore?”

“Don’t be foolish!” snapped his master, his nerves stretched as tight as the old man’s zither strings. “Of course I want you. I even need you. But you cannot serve as my lieutenant in the tribunal and at the same time engage in wrestling as a profession.”

“Oh!” The grin returned toGenba’s face. “In that case, don’t worry. I was afraid you were angry with mefor spending so much time away. I’ll be going back to the tribunal with Hito and Tora as soon as this party is over. My landlord’s already paid off, and my things are over there in that bundle by the door. Some more wine, sir?”

“Thank you,” said Akitada with feeling and held out his cup. His eyes went to the door again. He noted thebundle, then tried to control the sick panic that had been forming in his bellyever since the abbot’s warning. But the door finally opened and Hitomaroslipped in, brushing a dusting of snow from his jacket.

Akitada put down his cup andgot up to meet him. “Well?” he asked, his heart beating faster.

“No difficulties at all, sir.”Hitomaro took a tightly folded and sealed paper from his sleeve and handed itover. “The weather is changing,” he added. “The captain seems to think thatwill make it easier to hold the tribunal.”

Akitada felt almost dizzy with relief. He scanned the letter and nodded. “The abbot was right. Takesuke willhelp us. One hundred men. He expresses his eagerness to uphold imperial authority in this province. Very proper.” He gave Hitomaro the letter with atwisted smile. “Perhaps his fervent wish to ‘sacrifice his own life and that ofall his soldiers in this stand against the military might of traitorous warlords’ is a little unsettling, but I am grateful for his support. It seems we are not friendless after all. Come, join us for a quick bite and a cup of wine. I expect we have a long night ahead of us.”

Much later that night, past the hour of the tiger, Tora and Hitomaro, in partialarmor, sat dozing in Akitada’s office. They had spent several hours helping toprepare for the defense of the tribunal. Now there was nothing left but thewaiting. Akitada had sent Seimei, who was still weak from his recent illness,to bed.

The smell of wood smoke was inthe air, and a faint red glimmering showed through the closed shutters wheremetal cressets filled with oil-soaked kindling lit the courtyard. Now and thenone of the guards outside pulled his bowstring with a loud twang to show thatall was safe. Their master slept, wrapped in quilts and protected from thepervasive drafts by low screens. Genba snored in a corner.

“Go turn him over,” mutteredHitomaro, “before he wakes the master.”

Tora stumbled up, shook Genba,who grunted and rolled onto his side. From the courtyard came the muffledshouts of the sentries. Tora stretched and yawned. “I’ll take a look around,”he whispered to Hitomaro and slipped out.

Behind the screen Akitada said,“Hitomaro?”

“Yes, sir.” Hitomaro got up andwalked around the screen.

“Any news?” Akitada was proppedon his good elbow and looked wide awake.

“Nothing, sir. It’s been quietas a grave.”

“Not an apt comparison, I hope,”Akitada said dryly and threw back his cover. He was fully dressed under theyoroi which protected his torso and thighs, but the rest of the equipment-shin guards, neck guard, left shoulder plates, and helmet-lay in a corner ofthe room, where he hoped they would stay. “Is there any tea?” he asked, gettingup with some difficulty and sitting down behind his desk.

“I’ll get hot water, sir.”Hitomaro headed out the door, as Tora came in with Captain Takesuke.

Takesuke, in full armor, lightgleaming on the lacquered scales and the round helmet, saluted smartly. Helooked tense and excited. “I just received a report from my reconnaissancetroop, sir.”

“Yes?”

“A force of mounted warriorshas left Takata. Most of their banners have the Uesugi crest, but there arealso some strange banners with dragons and an unknown crest among them. We havecounted at least a hundred and fifty warriors. They are moving slowly, butshould get here in less than two hours.”

“Thank you, Captain. You havedone exceptionally well so far, and I have no doubt that you will hold thetribunal in spite of the lack of fortifications.”

Takesuke flushed and bowedsnappily.

Tora said with a grin, “Thecowardly bastards will turn tail when they see your flags flying over thetribunal, Captain. And if not, we’ll give Uesugi something to think about.”

“Those banners,” Akitada mused.“The dragon is a symbol of imperial power in China. I suppose the judge musthave suggested it to Uesugi as appropriate to the status of a ruler of thenorthern empire. But what is the other crest? Did you get a description,Captain?”

Takesuke handed over a scrap ofpaper. “It’s not very good, I’m afraid. My man was some distance away and it’ssnowing.”

Akitada spread out the scrapand looked at it. The brush strokes looked like something a very small childmight make for a tree, a heavy vertical central stroke which sprouted three orfour dashes angling upward on each side. “What is it, do you suppose?”

“A tree?” suggested Takesuke. “That’swhat my man thought it was.”

Hitomaro came in with asteaming teapot. He and Tora both peered at the strange symbol.

“Some plant,” Tora said. “Seimeimight know it.”

“If the lines were neater, I’dsay a feather,” Hitomaro offered, pouring Akitada’s tea.

“A feather? Part of an arrow?”Staring at the sketch, Akitada raised the cup to his mouth, then remembered hismanners. “Some tea, gentlemen?”

They shook their heads. Tea wasbitter medicine to most people.

Akitada clapped his hands forHamaya and woke up Genba, who yawned, blinked at them, and went back to sleep.Hamaya came in, but shook his head when he was shown the sketch. “If you willwait just a moment…” he muttered, and scurried from the room. When hereturned, he carried a document box which contained carefully drawn lists offamily crests for all recorded landowners in Echigo and its neighboringprovinces. None matched the unknown crest.

“It means nothing,” snortedHitomaro. “The sketch must be wrong.”

Takesuke protested, “He’s agood man, sir. And he swore that it looked like that.”

Akitada nodded. “Curious.Perhaps, like the dragon symbol, it is a new crest. Clearly Uesugi has someone’ssupport, and it is not one of the registered families. Thank you, Hamaya.” Hewatched as the elderly man gathered the documents and left. Hamaya had provedanother staunch supporter during this trying time, refusing to return to thesafety of his house in town. With a sigh, Akitada said to the others, “Well, wehave two hours to find out if Uesugi will attack or withdraw. If he withdraws,tomorrow will be a day like any other. For the sake of reassuring the people,matters must appear as nearly normal as possible. Your soldiers, Captain, hadbest conduct a military exercise outside the city within view of the road toTakata. It will allow you to keep an eye on things.”

Takesuke nodded. “Yes, sir.Tomorrow, sir. But now, if you don’t need me, I shall prepare for battle. Incase there’s an attack tonight.”

When the door had closed afterhim, Akitada said, “A surprisingly good man. He wasted no words. But I amafraid he hopes for hostilities tonight.”

“Well, I’d rather have someaction myself,” snorted Tora. “This sitting around on our haunches is hard onan old campaigner like me. Why don’t the three of us get up some plan to defendthis hall? With the help of Kaoru and his constables, we could hold thisbuilding for days even if Takesuke fails.”

Akitada suppressed a shudder.Should the enemy reach the hall, they would set fire to it. That would leavethose inside the choice of being burned alive or falling to the swords andarrows of the waiting Uesugi warriors. He said, “No. Unlike you and thecaptain, I’m betting on a withdrawal. Meanwhile there is unfinished business.”When Hitomaro and Tora looked blank, he reminded them, “We still have threeprisoners, Umehara, Okano, and Takagi, and the unsolved murder of the innkeeperSato to take care of.”

“We shouldn’t be wasting timeon that now,” protested Tora.

Hitomaro added, “Those threeare happy in jail. They are warm and get three fine meals a day. Besides, they’vemade friends with the sergeant and the constables. Umehara has them running fornew ingredients for his soups and stews. The farmer’s boy does their cleaningchores in return for a game of dice. And Okano puts on a show every night. Ourjail seems like paradise to them, and the constables treat them like theirpets.”

“Good heavens.” Akitada shookhis head in wonder. Then he said dryly, “Nevertheless. Winter is coming andtheir families are waiting. Once the heavy snows start, they will have to stayin Naoetsu till summer. I must remind you that the tribunal budget does notallow us to provide comfortable lodging for extended periods.”

“But what can be done when thatMrs. Sato has disappeared?” asked Tora. “Her people haven’t seen her, and herparents are worried sick. For all we know, she’s been killed, too, and liesburied somewhere. We may never find her.”

“Hmm.” Akitada frowned andtugged on one of the armor’s silk cords that pressed on his injured shoulder. “Thereis another matter that has been worrying me. I noticed a very peculiar reactionby Oyoshi when he misunderstood something you said. It almost looked as if hethought he was suspected of murder. Perhaps we should have asked some questionsabout his background. He visited the Satos frequently to care for the husband.And it was curious that he did not recognize his own patient.”

“You can’t suspect the doctor,”cried Hitomaro after a moment’s stunned silence. “Why, if we cannot trust him,whom can we trust?”

“That is true.” Akitada sighed.He pulled a brocade-wrapped bundle closer and untied the silk cord. Inside wasthe lacquer box he had bought from the curio dealer. He opened it and poured apile of shells onto the desk. Akitada stirred them idly with a long, slenderfinger, then picked out two, holding them up. “In the shell-matching game,” hesaid, “you may pick a shell from the pile and, at first glance, it is a perfectmatch to one of yours, like these two zither players. But when you look moreclosely, you see a slight difference. The pictures are identical except for onesmall detail. One lady is performing on the thirteen-string zither, the otheron an older type with only six strings. A careless player may forfeit the wholegame by jumping to conclusions.”

“I don’t like such trickygames,” muttered Tora.

Hitomaro picked up the pictureof a woman playing a lute and stared at it before laying it back down. Hecleared his throat nervously. “Sir?”

Akitada looked up.

“I, er, met someone. Er, afemale.” Hitomaro stopped, flushing to the roots of his hair.

Akitada raised his brows. “Am Ito congratulate you on this feat?”

“No, sir. That is, we thoughtwe would get married, if… if it is all right, sir.”

Mildly startled, then pleased,Akitada said warmly, “This is a serious matter, indeed! If she has capturedyour heart, my friend, she must be a very special woman. But you certainly don’tneed my permission.” He paused, then asked anxiously, “You are not planning toleave, are you?”

“Oh, no, sir. Quite thereverse. I was wondering if we might have the empty storehouse in the farcorner of the compound?”

“The empty…?” Akitada beganto laugh. “Of course. But please settle your affairs quickly, for I can seethat your mind is not on business. My wife will be of assistance. What is thecharming lady’s name?”

Hitomaro bit his lip, then saiddefiantly, “Her name is Ofumi. She is wellborn, but misfortune has forced herto earn her living as an entertainer. She is very talented, a fine lute player,and well spoken, sir.”

“A lute player, eh?” Akitadastudied Hitomaro’s flushed face. Then he nodded. “I am sure that you havechosen wisely. Ofumi shall be welcome in our family.”

Hitomaro knelt and touched hisforehead to the floor. When he straightened up, he was completely businesslike.“What is my assignment tomorrow, sir?”

Outside footsteps crunchedthrough the gravel. Male voices spoke in rapid exchange. Hitomaro and Toratensed and looked toward the closed shutters.

Akitada frowned and adjustedthe leather-covered plate over his left shoulder. He was not used to wearingarmor and found it cursed uncomfortable, especially with the recent shoulderwound. He hoped there would be no fight tonight.

When all became silent againoutside, Tora asked, “Should I wake Genba, sir?”

“No. Let him sleep. He has hada hard day.”

They all looked at the gentlysnoring mountain and smiled.

Akitada thought. “There isstill Judge Hisamatsu. But I think you are right, Hitomaro; he is merely mad,more of a liability to his fellow conspirators than a threat to us.”

“What about the child?” askedHitomaro. “I could search Hisamatsu’s place in his absence.”

Distractedly Akitada ran a handover his hair. “Heavens! I forgot to tell you. The abbot says the boy is safe.”

“Safe where?” Tora’s disbeliefwas plain on his face.

“He did no t say, but…”

“Then how do we know it’s true?”interrupted the normally courteous Hitomaro.

“The abbot has proved ourfriend. Besides, I believe Hokko because I think I know who has the boy. No, Icannot tell you. There are still a number of unanswered questions.” Akitadamoved restlessly again. “If only I could find a way to get into Takata manor again.I know part of the answer is there.”

Hitomaro and Tora looked ateach other and shook their heads. There was a small army between them andTakata.

“But there is still the deadKoichi,” said Akitada.

“What is puzzling about thatcase?” asked Hitomaro. “Sunada admitted to killing the man, and a whole crowdsays it was self-defense.”

Akitada shook his head. “I don’tcare what they say. I don’t like it. There was something far too pat about thewhole affair. I should have paid Sunada a visit long ago. He wields a greatdeal of power in the province, as evidenced by his support among the leadingmerchants.”

“Not to mention Boshu and hishenchmen,” Hitomaro agreed. “Sunada has certainly turned the shipping businessto good account. Half the fishermen in Flying Goose village are in his pay, andhe controls all the shipping along the coast.”

Akitada frowned. “Shipping. Itmay have some significance in all this. There are our empty granaries, forexample. Inadequately explained by Uesugi as a matter of moving the rice tomore convenient storage or using it in provisioning the troops fighting in thenorth.” He moved his shoulder and grimaced. “I have not had time to inspectUesugi’s granaries. What if the rice is gone? If there is a bad crop next year,people will starve by the thousands, and I shall be blamed.” Suddenly hestiffened and picked up the sketch Takesuke had given him. “Hmm,” he muttered,frowning at it, then said, “Wake Genba for a moment.”

When Tora shook him, the bigman grunted, then sat up and rubbed his eyes. “Are they here?” he asked.

“No, no,” Akitada said. “Itwill be another hour or so. This concerns Sunada. I have the feeling it was amistake not to investigate him fully. We have had two warnings that all is notas it seems with that gentleman. Did you hear any gossip in town about hispersonal affairs?”

“Oh, him. After his people attackedHito, I checked out Sunada, but there was no proof that he knew about it.”

“That is not what I meant. Whatabout his private life, his family, friends, his closest associates?”

“Well, he’s said to be thewealthiest man in the northern provinces. But he’s a loner. No family, nofriends. He lives in a large manor in Flying Goose village, near the harborwhere his ships and warehouses are, but there’s nobody with him apart from hisservants. People say he was married once, but his wife died in childbirth.After that he took his pleasures elsewhere.”

“Right,” Hitomaro said. “One ofyour friends made a comment about that.” Seeing Akitada’s questioning look,Hitomaro flushed and looked uncomfortable. “Something about Sunada being aregular at one of the houses of assignation.”

Genba nodded. “The currentgossip is that he’s taken a concubine from outside the pleasure quarter, beingtired of the local ware.”

Akitada considered this. “Strangethat there is no family, no heir to a business of that size,” he said. “A sonhas a sacred obligation to his parents and to his ancestors to provide sons inhis turn. The man is either an irresponsible fool or he has been bewitched bysome female he cannot take to wife. And that amounts to the same.”

Tora grinned. Akitada’s ownmarriage was still quite recent.

Hitomaro shifted in his seat. “Ifa man has character and loves such a woman, he makes her his wife anyway,” hesaid so fervently that the others stared at him in surprise.

An embarrassed silence fell.Akitada busied himself with putting the shells back into their container andwrapping it again. Genba got up and poured himself some lukewarm tea.

From outside came the suddensound of shouted commands and then the trotting of men’s feet across gravel.They tensed and listened.

“It’s just a changing of theguard,” said Hitomaro after a moment, and everyone relaxed. Akitada reached fora batch of documents and began reading. Another heavy stretch of waiting began.

“Sir?” Tora interrupted thesilence after a while. “I’ve been meaning to ask you. How did you figure outwhere that fellow Ogai deserted to? The fishmonger’s brother. I’ve been rackingmy brains to understand that.”

Akitada had already given upmaking sense of the erratic bookkeeping of his predecessor. He slowly came backfrom a nagging worry that he should have recognized the significance of thestrange crest worn by some of Uesugi’s men and focused on Tora’s question. “Oh,”he said. “Hitomaro told me about him.”

“Me?” Hitomaro lookedflabbergasted.

“Yes. When you reported yourstay in the outcast village, you told me that they habitually took in fugitiveson the say-so of the old yamabushi. By the way, he is anotherquestionable presence in this province who bears looking into. But to get backto the soldier: You mentioned one man, a rowdy fellow who had lost his frontteeth. That fit Ogai, who was on the run from his military duty and recentlytoothless after a fight with Kimura.”

Hitomaro slapped his knees. “Howcould I have been so stupid! Of course, that’s it. Well, at least that’s onecase solved.”

“Not quite. Someone placed thedead Mr. Kato at our gate, and it was not the fishmonger. Whoever did isinvolved in the Uesugi rebellion.”

“Hisamatsu,” said Hitomaroconfidently. “He wrote the note.”

“No, the widow Sato,” criedTora. “She’s the one who had a dead man to get rid of.”

Akitada nodded. “Yes. They areboth suspects. Perhaps when we find the widow, we shall get some answers.”

“But where is she?” askedGenba. “We’ve looked everywhere. That female has vanished into thin air. Theconstables have searched both the inn and her parents’ farm.”

Akitada rubbed his shoulder andthought. Suddenly he smiled. “We will set a trap for her,” he said. “Yes, that’sit. Tomorrow Tora will bring that maid to the tribunal for more questioning-”

“Oh, no!” cried Tora, “I’m nottangling with that wildcat again.”

“Ho, ho.” Genba laughed, hisbelly shaking. “The girl’s made for you. A wildcat for the tiger. The fur willfly.”

Tora shook a fist at Genba.

“Pay attention!” Akitadafrowned at them. “Tora, you will keep the girl waiting outside my office for afew hours. Then I shall ask her some unimportant questions and let her go.Genba or Kaoru will follow her. I want anyone who speaks to her brought to me.”

Tora shook his head and wasabout to protest again, but Genba cried, “It’s a good plan. The widow hasfriends we don’t know about, and they’ll take an interest in what is happeningin her case. They’ll want to know why you kept the maid so long and what shetold you.”

“Can’t Genba fetch the maid?”asked Tora. “I’ll follow her.”

“No, you would be recognized,”said Akitada, and turned his head to listen.

Someone was running in the halloutside, and they all tensed. Hitomaro got up and went to the door. He was justin time to admit the captain.

Takesuke was out of breath, buthis eyes sparkled. “They’re here, sir,” he said. “An advance troop of eightmounted warriors. They rode up to within a hundred yards and stopped to look atour banners and the burning fires. Then they turned around.” He wiped somemelting snow off his face and added, “I’ve sent a good man after them, but Ihave no doubt that Uesugi is close by with his whole force.”

Instantly Akitada’s threelieutenants were up and running out the door. Takesuke remained standing.Akitada looked up at the captain. “Was there something else?”

“Er,” said Takesuke, “can Igive you a hand with the rest of your armor? They will be here very shortly.”

Akitada glanced at the pile ofheavy leather-and-metal pieces missing from his costume and made a face. “Thankyou, no. I don’t think that will be necessary, Captain. Keep me informed.”

Takesuke stared at him for amoment. Then he compressed his lips, saluted, and withdrew so abruptly that he left the door ajar.

Akitada shivered and stared down at his hands. It was difficult to meet people’s expectations and yet that was his duty here. He was no soldier and hoped to avoid bloodshed. As a youth,he had received the customary training in archery and sword fighting, but he had never fought a battle. In fact, his performance with bow and arrow had been distinctly mediocre, though he had always done well with a sword. But Hitomaro,the only skillful swordsman among his retainers, had pointed out that fightinga battle was very different from the practice bouts they had engaged in.

Akitada sighed. The soldierTakesuke had reason to disdain the official from the capital, but he was surely not the coward Takesuke thought him.

A soft rustle alerted him tothe presence of his wife. She had thrown a deep crimson brocade mantle over herthin white underrobe, but her hair was loose, sweeping the floor behind her. Inthe light of the oil lamp she looked like one of the fairies of the westernparadise.

“Are you in pain?” she askedsoftly.

“No,” he lied. “We have been discussing the schedule for the coming day. And Captain Takesuke was just herewith a report.”

Her eyes searched his face. “Allis well?”

“Yes. All is well.” He reachedfor the brocade bundle. “I have a gift for you.”

She came quickly and knelt byhis side to undo the ties. Her hands shook a little. “Ah,” she cried when shesaw the lacquered box. “A shell game! And how beautiful!”

He watched her excitement, theway she touched the box and opened it, then lifted and looked at each shell with little cries of pleasure, her slender hands graceful. She was trying veryhard to be strong and filled him with pride. There was a touch of color in hercheeks, and her silken hair slipped charmingly over her shoulder. Suddenly he felt enormously wealthy and, like any rich man, he was afraid.

“Come,” he said. “Keep me company for a little while and play a game with me.”

Outside there was the silence of the cold predawn. Here, in the soft light of the lamp, Tamako, who bore his child, placed shells on his lacquered desk with little clicking sounds, and smiled at him, murmuring, “It is the most exquisite present.”