Black Arrow

NINTEEN
THE TURNING WHEEL

Well done!” grunted Hitomaro, parrying Akitada’s long sword and stepping back.

Both men were stripped to thewaist, their bare skin covered with the sheen of perspiration on this gray andcold morning outside the tribunal hall. Akitada smiled briefly and checked thebandage on his left shoulder. “I think it’s coming back to me,” he said. “I wasafraid my arm had stiffened.”

“One rarely forgets the rightmoves.”

Hitomaro’s face did not loseits gravity. Akitada had hoped that the workout would lift his lieutenant’sspirits, but he had not once lost his detachment. Akitada did not like thatfaraway look in Hitomaro’s eyes; he seemed to be gazing into an unseen world,listening for an unheard sound.

“I would not wish to disgracemyself before Takesuke,” Akitada joked lamely. “He already has a very pooropinion of me.” They all thought that a battle was unavoidable. Men would dieand, unlike Sun Tzu, Akitada did not believe that men ever died gladly. Theresponsibility frightened him more than his own death, but he could not falternow.

Hitomaro resumed his position.They reengaged and continued their practice until the nearby monastery bellsounded the call for the monks’ morning rice. When Captain Takesuke arrived,they were bent over the well bucket, sluicing off their sweat.

Takesuke smiled when he took inthe significance of the sword practice. “I’m happy to see you quite recovered,Excellency,” he said with a smart salute. “I also have made preparations. Youwill be proud of the troops. In fact, I came for your Excellency’s banner so wecan make copies to carry into battle.”

The feeling of well-being afterthe exercise evaporated with the water on Akitada’s skin. Here was a man afterSun Tzu’s heart. He shivered and reached for a towel. “Hitomaro will supply youwith what you need. The problem is getting Uesugi out of Takata. That manor istoo strongly fortified.”

Takesuke said confidently, “Hewill fight. How can he refuse and retain his honor now that he has openlydeclared himself ruler of the northern provinces and demanded our formalsubmission?”

Akitada shot him a sharp glanceas he tossed away the towel and reached for his gown. “Just how do you knowthat, Captain?”

Takesuke pulled a folded,bloodstained sheet of paper from under his shoulder guard. “One of my menbrought this from Takata. When it got light enough, they noticed two posts thathadn’t been there before. They sent a man to investigate. He found two freshcorpses tied to the posts. They had been disemboweled and one had this attachedto his chest with a dagger.”

Sickened, Akitada unfolded thepaper. The writing was large and crude, the characters in the middleobliterated by the blood-soaked hole left by the dagger, but the content wasclear: “The traitor Hisamatsu sends this greeting to Sugawara and Takesuke: Bowto the new Lord of the North or suffer as I did.”

“Hisamatsu is dead,” Akitadasaid tonelessly, handing Hitomaro the message.

Hitomaro read and nodded. “Hehad no chance. What good is a raving lunatic to Uesugi? I suppose the other oneis Chobei?”

Takesuke nodded.

Akitada said, “They wereprobably killed last night, a whole day and night after Hisamatsu went toTakata. That means Uesugi did not act until he got news of Sunada’s arrest.”

Hitomaro looked surprised. “Youmean he blamed them for that?”

“Perhaps.” Akitada refolded thepaper and put it in his sleeve. “Or perhaps he had been waiting for Sunada’sinstructions. In any case, he keeps himself informed about developments in thecity.”

“The faster we move on him thebetter,” Takesuke said eagerly. “When will your Excellency give the order to march?”

The man’s eagerness tosacrifice himself and untold numbers of other humans on the battlefield was toomuch for Akitada. He swung around angrily. “Have you not been listening, man?We cannot take the manor. It is inaccessible-as you should have realized longago. And I doubt that Uesugi will accommodate us by coming out. Get it intoyour thick skull and stop badgering me!”

Takesuke blanched. He bowed. “Myapology.”

Akitada bit his lip. He wasashamed of his outburst and tempted to leave the awkward scene for the safetyof his office. Eventually he said grudgingly, “There is still a great deal ofpaperwork to be done before we can bring formal charges against Uesugi, but Isuppose we must make ready to attack.”

Takesuke got up and stood toattention. “Yes, Excellency. Thank you, Excellency.”

Akitada sighed. He could notafford to antagonize this man. “Perhaps tomorrow, Captain,” he said and walkedaway.

¦

Thetribunal archives had lost their dusty, musty air of disuse. On a closerinspection of Sunada’s house, the warehouses had held much of the province’srice stores, and the locked room had guarded the secrets of a planned uprising.

Now everywhere in the tribunalpiles of document boxes covered the floor. The two clerks were bent overpapers, reading, making notes, and sorting Sunada’s records into neat stacks.Seimei bustled about, checking and labeling the stacks and making notes. Aharassed but happy Hamaya greeted Akitada.

“Excellency, I am amazed,” hecried. “You have uncovered an enormous conspiracy! Nobody could have dreamed ofsuch a thing. And it is all here. Lists of conspirators’ names, contacts inother provinces …” He snatched up one of the piles and followed Akitada intohis office. “Look! These are the rice records for the last year. This is theUesugi seal. Sunada paid Uesugi for eight thousand bales of the provincial fallharvest, and the amount is less than half of its value. According to Uesugi,that rice went to the troops in the north.”

Akitada suppressed hisimpatience. Hamaya had worked hard and accounted for part of the missinggovernmental rice stores. He peered at the figures, nodded, and said, “Excellentwork, Hamaya. You and your clerks are to be congratulated. We can charge Uesugiwith diverting government property to his own uses. Start drawing up thepaperwork.”

Hamaya bowed, pink withpleasure. “Immediately, sir. Oh, I almost forgot…look at this. It’s a letterfrom someone in the capital, I think. Stuck in the pages of the merchant’spersonal accounts. It must be a hoax. Surely it couldn’t be … treason?”

Akitada snatched the letterfrom Hamaya’s hand, glanced at it, and felt his heart stop. “Someone’s privatejoke, no doubt,” he told the head clerk and tossed the paper carelessly on hisdesk. “Let me know when the charges are ready.”

He waited until Hamaya had lefthis office, then read the letter again. It was addressed to Sunada andencouraged him in his plan to establish a separate northern rule with promisesof high appointment in the capital if his endeavor could influence imperialsuccession. The letter was unsigned, but Akitada had recognized the seal. Itbelonged to one of the sons of the retired emperor. This young man had brieflyserved as crown prince, but had been replaced in the succession by a child, theson of the present empress and grandson of the Fujiwara chancellor.

Because of Fujiwara marriagepolitics, intrigue within the imperial family was always a danger, andpunishment usually fell heavily on the innocent, on loyal servants and dutifulofficials along with their families, rather than the highly placed principals.

Therefore Akitada stared at theelegant paper with particular horror. It lay on his desk between the blackarrow which had killed Kaibara and saved Akitada’s life and the lacquered boxof Tamako’s shell-matching game. Men played deadly games everywhere. Not onlywas he about to risk his life to secure this province, but the letter representeda bloody upheaval about to happen in the capital, and on his, Akitada’s,report. Yet duty required him to make this report. By a twist of fate, he wasforced to destroy lives, careers, and families, perhaps his own included, whenhe had struggled all along to avoid bloodshed.

Akitada knew that another manwould burn the letter and forget its contents. Echigo was a remote province. Ifthe insurrection collapsed here, the disaffected prince in the capital mightwell give up his aspirations.

But weighed against the presentand future danger to the emperor, this was not an option open to Akitada. Whatif the news of the collapse of the northern uprising prompted desperate actionin the capital? And what guarantee was there that an ambitious prince might notplot again, and again?

He raised his hands to his faceand groaned.

“What is the matter, husband?”Tamako had entered silently, wide-eyed with concern. She looked frail in themorning light, her hands resting protectively on her swelling body.

Akitada smiled bleakly. “I amafraid I may have failed both of us,” he said. “I no longer know what is to bedone.” He closed his eyes. “And I think I am about to fail the emperor nomatter how I choose to act.”

He heard the rustle of her silkgown as she sank down next to him, then felt the warmth of her body pressed tohis. “You cannot fail me,” she whispered, “no matter what you do. It is not inyou.” She withdrew a little. “You will fail yourself only if you shirk yourduty. And how can you fail the emperor if you obey his laws and perform yourduty?”

He shook his head and smiled alittle at her fervor. “Here,” he said, pushing the letter toward her. “Thisaffects you and our unborn child as well. Read it!”

She read. “Whose is this?” sheasked.

“It is Prince Okisada’s seal.”

She drew in her breath sharply.“I see.” Her eye fell on the arrow on his desk. “Would you aim an arrow into adark cave because you thought a bear was moving inside?”

A bear? A cave? What did shemean? Perversely, Tamako’s words conjured up another memory: White Bear, Kaoru’sdog. Kaoru’s long bow. Akitada’s hand went to the arrow. By its length and rarefeather it was a contest arrow, not an ordinary soldier’s issue. He recalledHitomaro’s amazement at Kaoru’s bow, his skill with it. Like his coroner, hisnew sergeant of constables was an enigma.

The more he thought about it,Kaoru’s education and his difference from the other outcasts were mysteries hehad not pursued because there were more urgent problems to be solved. Was thisjust a minor puzzle, or was it at the heart of the Uesugi stranglehold on thisprovince? And how was it connected to Kaibara’s death?

“Akitada?”

He was snatched back to thepresent. “What?”

“I only meant that you cannotknow the situation in the capital. If you release the arrow, it may merelywound the bear, or kill its cub. Then you may be hurt instead.”

How astute she was. “Yes. I know. That is the problem.” He turned his attention to the arrow again,twisting it this way and that.

Tamako frowned. “A hunter might wait for another opportunity,” she remarked anxiously.

“Yes. You are quite right.Thank you.” He smiled at her, noting that the protective hand rested on her softly rounded belly again. Women played by their own rules, followed their own concept of honor, he thought and was surprised at the discovery.

She blushed as if she had read his mind. “Forgive me. It was not my place to advise you.”

“On the contrary. I think you have helped me solve another mystery.”

“Oh?” Her pale face lit up,then looked puzzled. “Again?”

“Yes. Your final match in our shell game led me to Sunada.”

“The ladies with the lutes!”She clapped her hands. “But how?”

“The murdered woman owned a lute, a very expensive, rare one. After the murder, that lute was gone. I realized that only Sunada could have bought it, or had the taste to do so. And he would have taken it away with him.”

“How horrible!” Tamako’s eyeswere large with shock. Then she added quickly, “But he must have loved her very much to have spoiled her so,” and her eyes lit up as if a thought had crossed her mind. She glanced at the shell-matching game. “Did the game … cost very much?” she asked, half hopeful, half afraid.

Akitada did not know how to answer. He had paid much less than it was worth. Had not the curio dealer said the shell-matching game had been ordered as a gift for an Uesugi lady years ago? He had a dim memory of those same flowers and grasses among the decorations on a suit of armor in the Takata armory.

Would Tamako think he did not love her? The female mind drew the most astonishing conclusions sometimes. He said, joking though his heart was afraid, “However you might rate my affection,I certainly would never entertain any murderous thoughts.”

Puzzlement, then comprehension and embarrassment passed quickly over her face. But to Akitada’s relief, she burst into laughter. Tamako laughed like a child, eyes sparkling, head thrown back, pink lips revealing perfect white teeth. She rarely practiced the custom of blackening her teeth as ladies in the capital did. And this was not ladylike laughter either. It was wholly infectious, and Akitada joined in.

The door opened, and Tora looked in curiously. Behind him Hamaya and the two clerks craned their necks.

Akitada glanced back at his wife.Her hand now covered her mouth in the prescribed manner, but above it her eyes sparkled with mirth.

“Come in, Tora,” said Akitada,smiling at his wife, who rose and, bowing to him, left the room. “What is it?”

“Kaoru sent me. Sunada wants totalk to you. Kaoru doesn’t dare leave, not after what happened with the Omeyawoman. He’s afraid Sunada might kill himself.”

“Thank you,” Akitada said,jumping up, “this could be important. Anything I can use to avoid open war withUesugi would be heaven-sent.”

The atmosphere around the jail was tense. Guards manned the entrance to keep away the curious. In spite of this, two cripples had taken up position near the steps and raised sad faces to Akitada. He could not understand their piteous cries and was about to toss them some coppers, when Tora said, “Sunada’s servants. They followed him and have sat here ever since.”

In the common room more constables snapped to attention. Kaoru was seated outside Sunada’s cell door.He looked tired, but rose immediately and bowed to Akitada.

“Sergeant,” said Akitada, “I want you to send one of the constables to Captain Takesuke and request five of his best men to carry a dispatch to the capital.” His eyes fell on the barred window of a cell door which was suddenly crowded with three familiar faces.

Only Takagi’s wore the usual vacant smile. Umehara looked pale and frightened, and Okano had been weeping.

“Why are they locked up again?”Akitada asked.

“I did not want to take any chances this time, sir,” Kaoru said in a low voice. “Not after my recent negligence.”

“Let them out.”

The three men tumbled out hurriedly to express their gratitude. Okano, who had a flowered scarf tied about his face, looked more like a farmer’s wife than ever. He insisted on kissing the hem of Akitada’s gown. Umehara was gabbling something about salmon stew, and Takagi asked for his gold coins again.

The confused scene was an unwelcome reminder to Akitada that he must close their case officially. Their freedom depended on Sunada’s testimony in court.

“Get everybody out,” Akitadasnapped to Kaoru, “and take care of that message. Immediately! It’s urgent.Then come back here.”

When they were alone, Akitada had Tora unlock Sunada’s cell and went in.

The change in the man was shocking. The once smooth, shining face of the wealthy merchant was gray, and the skin sagged. He looked up at Akitada from heavy-lidded eyes without bothering to rise or bow. “I could not sleep,” he said.

Akitada wondered whether this was a complaint about jail conditions or more expressions of his grief and despair. To his surprise, it was another matter altogether.

“Those three men.” Sunada’s eyes went to the wall that separated the two cells. “All night they talked.There is one-his words are those of a child, but he speaks with a man’s voice.He talked of his father and mother. And he wept for them like a homesick child.It was terrible to hear his weeping. Another fellow wept with him. This one cried like a woman. And the old man talked about food all night. He was worried his salmon would go bad. Are they the men accused of Sato’s murder?”

Akitada nodded.

Sunada sighed. “They are innocent. I expect they have gone mad expecting to be executed. Why do some men fear death so much? I welcome it.”

“They are not mad,” said Akitada.“Until recently they moved freely about the jail. Being locked up again has frightened them. But even when I first met them, they were not concerned about dying because they knew they were innocent. Their worries concern the problemsof life. Takagi is a slow-witted farmer’s son who is homesick. Okano is an actor who is out of work and alone in the world. And Umehara has discovered the joys and frustrations of cooking.” Akitada paused. Sunada had surprised him again. He said tentatively, “I had hoped to prove their innocence and release them this week.”

“And now you cannot do so?”

“Not without your help.” Sunada’s words had given Akitada new hope. Perhaps he had misjudged the man. Whateverhis crimes, he was not without pity. But was it reasonable to expect a favorfrom someone he was about to sentence to death? Sunada was guilty of triple murder and treason. Why should he care about justice in the abstract? Why woulda criminal who faced execution in its most cruel form-treason against the emperorwas punishable by disemboweling before decapitation or by being beaten todeath-care about three poor men? Takagi, Okada, and Umehara had neither ambition nor potential. They were the dregs of a society Sunada had risen from through lifelong effort and relentless pursuit of power.

But Sunada nodded. “That is why I sent for you. I am prepared to help you.”

Akitada was astonished and relieved. They were alone, but outside in the common room he could hear Kaoruin subdued conversation with Tora.

He said, “As you know, Mrs.Sato was about to be arrested for the murder of her husband. Now her death makes it impossible to charge her with the crime.”

Sunada nodded again and asked, “Howdid you find out?”

“Her alibi for the day of the murder was unshakable. It was that which led me to suspect her in the first place. It occurred to me that she must have arranged to have her husband killed while she was safely away visiting her parents. I assume you knew?”

“More than that, Governor.Ofumi was a remarkable woman and perfectly capable of devising the plan on her own, but she lacked the necessary contacts.”

“So you found Koichi for her.”

“That was clever of you. I rather suspected that you did not quite believe my story of self-defense when I killed him in the market the other day.” Sunada grimaced. “It was a public service, though I was protecting myself. Unfortunately assassins are unreliableassociates. When you refused to believe the three travelers guilty and startedlooking for another killer, he demanded money. I could afford to pay, but a manof his background and reputation cannot be trusted. I decided to act while Ihad witnesses. Then one of your men happened along-” Sunada broke off andclenched his fists. “Of course,” he muttered. “The lieutenant who attempted toarrest me-he was the one who seduced her.” He glowered at Akitada. “Wasn’t he?”

Akitada was taken aback. Howcould this matter now? In justice to Hitomaro, he said sharply, “You are quitewrong. She seduced him.”

For a moment their eyes held ina contest of wills, then Sunada lowered his head. “Perhaps she could not helpwhat she was, what she made men do.”

“A woman who plots to have herhusband killed deserves no pity,” snapped Akitada.

“What would you know of a woman’slife?” Sunada asked wearily. “That girl-beautiful beyond belief, full of grace,endowed with talent, clever, lively, and filled with dreams-she was born into apeasant family and sold in marriage to an old man, a desiccated dotard so closeto death that he stank of decomposition! What chance had she by your laws?”

“Not my laws. The laws of thegods. She was not mistreated. By all accounts Sato doted on her.”

Sunada moved impatiently. “Shewas made for better things. He had no right to possess her.”

This was absurd-as any goodConfucian scholar knew. The ancients taught that a woman had no right to choosefor herself. Her duty was first to her parents, then to her husband, and lastto her son. And if she was unfortunate enough to survive her immediate family,another male relative would direct her life.

But there was no point inarguing with this man. Akitada said, “So you ‘contacted,’ as you put it,Koichi, a man with a long record of crimes. In fact, you had him released fromhis latest jail term the day before Sato’s death. Employing the unemployablehad always worked well for you. Such men are grateful. Did Koichi balk at allat murder?”

“He was eager to do it andbragged about it afterwards. I found him repulsive.”

“Ah, so he reported to youafter the murder.” Akitada was pleased. The case would be resolved moresmoothly than he had hoped. “Koichi entered the Golden Carp in midafternoon, ata time when Mrs. Sato would have reached her parents’ village arid been seenthere by as many people as possible. It was a sunny day, and the inn’s hallwaydim. Koichi stumbled over a packsaddle and damaged it. Okano, one of the threetravelers, was taking a bath and heard the clatter but assumed it was made bycustomers who left again when no one greeted them. I do not know whether Koichibrought a weapon, but I think he saw a large knife lying in the kitchen anddecided to use it. After killing the sick old man, Koichi emptied the moneybox, replaced the knife where he had found it, and left again as unobserved ashe had come.”

“I did not know about thepacksaddle, and he certainly did not tell me about the money box,” Sunada said.“Otherwise your deductions are correct.”

“Sato had saved up some gold.His widow testified that there were seven pieces, but she provided thatinformation after the three fugitives had been searched and seven gold pieceswere found in their possession. Still, it is surprising that Koichi blackmailedyou after having helped himself to all of Sato’s savings.”

Sunada laughed mirthlessly. “Come,Governor! Not even you can be that unworldly! Gold begets greed. He was to keepwhat he found as payment. Clearly it was not enough.”

Akitada knew there was a looseend still, but it had nothing to do with Sunada. He asked, “Will you sign astatement and testify in court that Koichi killed Sato on your instructions andat Mrs. Sato’s request?”

“Yes. But there is a condition.”

“No.” Akitada rose abruptly.The disappointment stung, though he should have expected it. “Even if I wishedto grant you leniency, your fate is not in my power. Neither your culpabilityin the Sato case, nor the three murders you committed yourself signify whencompared to a case of insurrection against his august Majesty.”

Sunada smiled a little. “Iknow. My request is not for me.”

Akitada hesitated. “The sameapplies to all your associates and includes your henchman, Boshu, and hisvillainous gang. They have terrorized the local people at your behest. I lookforward to sentencing them to long terms at hard labor. Besides, your peoplehad a hand in placing the mutilated body at the tribunal gate.”

Sunada looked astonished. “Forwhat it is worth, we had nothing to do with that. That was done by that animalChobei, your former sergeant, on instructions from Hisamatsu. No one else couldhave misused a corpse in such a repulsive fashion.”

“The corpse showed evidence ofhaving been stored in a rice warehouse.”

Sunada hunched his shoulders. “Byall means add it to my charges. It does not matter. And do as you wish withBoshu and his men. I’m asking you to spare the two crippled servants you saw inmy house. They are simple fishermen who lost the ability to go to sea. Theyneither read nor write and only took care of my simplest needs in my home. Inever asked more of them.”

Akitada remembered the twocripples. Again Sunada had surprised him, almost shamed him. “They have beenoutside this jail since you were brought here.”

Sunada lowered his head, thenbrushed a hand across his eyes. “I plead with you,” he said brokenly. “Theymust not suffer for their loyalty, for their love …” He choked on the word.

“Very well. If they are asinnocent as you say, they may return to their families.”

“Thank you.” Sunada boweddeeply, his face wet with tears.

Back in the common room, Kaoruand Tora greeted Akitada with broad grins.

“We heard,” cried Tora. “Yousolved the Sato case. It was brilliant. From little things like Umehara’sbackpack and a noise Okano heard, you put the whole thing together.”

“And from Koichi’s jailrecords, when no one knew he had been near the inn,” added Kaoru. “Such wisdomis worthy of the famous judge Ch’eng-Lin.”

Akitada looked at him for amoment, then smiled and shook his head. “I don’t deserve any credit. From thebeginning, Tora was closer to the answer than I was.”

“Me?” Tora gaped.

“Yes. We should have arrestedthe maid. It would have saved trouble and lives. She was an accessory beforeand after the fact and should have been questioned rigorously.”

“Kiyo? Why?”

“The bloody knife. Someone hadto put it in Takagi’s pack. Koichi knew nothing of the three travelers. I thinkwe will find that Kiyo not only knew of the planned murder, but that she andKoichi split Sato’s savings.”

Tora stared at him. “But shehated her mistress.”

“Probably. She also hated oldSato. When she thought you were a stranger passing through, she carelesslyrevealed her motive. It is to your credit that you recognized and reported it.Later she changed her story, but by then she knew that you worked for me, andthat Sunada had killed Koichi. She was afraid.”

“Well,” Tora said with greatsatisfaction, “would you believe it? I have the instinct for it after all.”

Akitada nodded. “Oh, yes. It isyour case now. Go arrest the girl and get her confession. We also need astatement from Sunada.” He paused and gave the sergeant a considering look. “Allthe clerks are busy with Sunada’s papers …”

Kaoru said eagerly, “I canwrite well enough, sir,” and gestured at a sheaf of reports on his desk.

Akitada looked and raised hiseyebrows at the neat script, then smiled. “Very well, Sergeant, go ahead. Butfirst tell your three prisoners that they are free to go. Hamaya will returntheir money and property to them. There should be additional compensation fromSunada’s confiscated estate after both cases are settled.”

¦

Someone,Tamako or Seimei, had brought hot tea and placed it on the brazier in hisoffice. He poured some and drank greedily before sitting down at his desk.

The prince’s letter stillawaited his attention. Tamako had understood immediately that an officialreport to the chancellor would set wheels in motion which might well putAkitada and his family in personal danger. She had wanted him to wait. But thiscould not wait. The emperor himself was in danger.

Akitada reached for his writingutensils. His cover letter was very brief. He enclosed it and the prince’sletter in another sheet of paper, sealed this, and addressed both to a manwhose wisdom and kindness were well known to him, the retired emperor’s brotherwho was a Buddhist bishop. Then he clapped his hands.

The young soldiers selected byTakesuke looked eager and intelligent. Akitada gave his instructions and turnedhis letter over to them. This accomplished, he had another cup of tea andrelaxed.

There was little left to do.The tangled web of murder and mayhem had resolved itself with Sunada’sconfession. Akitada took no pleasure in it. There had been many deaths andthere would be many more, public executions which he must attend in hisofficial role. Besides, it had not been his own effort which had broughtjustice to the three unfortunate travelers, or revealed and broken theconspiracy against the emperor. No, it had all been due to chance encountersbetween one woman and two men.

He considered the destructionMrs. Sato had wrought in the lives of others. The good abbot Hokko had his ownsymbol to explain the inexplicable. Buddhist scripture taught that man occupieda precarious position midway between the angels and the demons on the wheel oflife. A turn of the wheel propelled him either upward, toward righteousness,good fortune, and happiness, or it dragged him into the filth of evil andcrushed him underneath. The wheel had crushed Sunada.

He sniffed. There was a strangefishy smell in the air. Then he became aware of a peculiar noise coming fromthe wooden shutters behind him. It sounded like the gnawing of a rat. A softhissing followed, then a scrabbling noise. Akitada turned on his cushion sothat he faced the shutters. As he watched, a narrow line of light widened intoa crack and a pudgy hand appeared in the opening. More hissingfollowed-whispering, Akitada decided-and then a round red face topped withshort black horns appeared and leered in at him from bulging eyes.

Both Akitada and the goblinjerked back in surprise. The goblin squealed, and the shutter slammed shut.Akitada opened his mouth to shout for a guard, when the shutter flew openagain, revealing two human backs, bowed abjectly on the narrow veranda outside.

“Who are you and what do youwant?” barked Akitada, his heart pounding.

One of the creatures, thehorned goblin, visibly trembled, but the other one raised his gray head.Akitada recognized Umehara.

“Forgive us, Excellency,”Umehara said, wringing his hands and sniffling. “We asked your clerk to let ussee you, but it was strictly forbidden, so we came this way.”

“Ah.” Akitada regarded theshaking figure. A certain plumpness suggested Okano, but the horns? “Is thatOkano?” he asked.

The spiked head noddedviolently.

“What happened to your head,Okano? Are you playing a goblin?”

“Oh!” The actor wailed andcovered the spikes with both hands. “See, Umehara? Okano should have worn hisscarf! He is so ugly!”

“His hair is growing back,”explained Umehara.

Akitada suppressed a smile. “Situp and look at me, Okano.”

The actor sat up slowly, pudgyhands fluttering from hair to face and finally dropping in despair. With greatdifficulty, Akitada kept a straight face. Above Okano’s red face with itsbulging, tear-filled eyes and quivering lips, black tufts rose into the air.Poor Okano needed no costume to play the part of a goblin. “Can you not comb itback?” he suggested.

“It’s too short. See?” Okanoslapped at the horns with both hands. “Umehara gave Okano some fish oil. But itmade it worse.”

That explained the strangesmell.

“Ah. No doubt it will improvein time. You did not wish to consult me about your hair, I trust,” Akitadaremarked.

“Oh, no,” they chorused,exchanging doleful looks.

Umehara was wringing his hands,“It’s about the sergeant telling us to leave.”

Okano wailed, “Where will Okanogo? What will he do? He has no friends in the whole wide world. Okano will killhimself!”

“Holy heavens,” cried Akitada. “Stopthat nonsense at once. Umehara, can’t you explain to him that he is a free man,cleared of all charges, and that he will receive some money for his suffering?Why, in heaven’s name is he carrying on like this?”

Umehara began to weep also. “Heunderstands,” he sobbed. “It’s all very well for Takagi.” He wiped hisstreaming face and nose on his sleeve. “Takagi wants to go home to his village.But Okano and me …”-he sniffed-”… we’ve got nobody and … we’ve never beenas happy as we’ve been here. We don’t want to leave your jail, sir.”

Akitada was taken aback. Aftera moment, he said in a choking voice, “Well, if you are sure, I’ll put in agood word for you with the sergeant.”

** * *

TWENTY

THE WAY OF WAR

T

wohours before sunrise Akitada still sat at his desk, staring now at thefeathered arrow, now at the shell-matching game. The tea in his cup had longsince been drunk and the brazier was filled with ashes. It had grown cold, buthe felt neither the chill nor thirst or tiredness.

All night he had turned over inhis mind the problem of the impregnable manor. Hamaya had searched the archivesfor information about its construction but found nothing of interest. Akitada’smemory from his visits discouraged hope. The natural defenses were just toogood. Each time, he had approached the mountaintop manor by its main gate-wasthere another access?-and found it could be defended against an army by ahandful of bowmen on the watchtower above. A battering ram was out of thequestion, and so were ladders. The rocky hillside, topped with walls, was toohigh and steep to be climbed against defending archers.

Of course, a bonfire laidagainst the wooden main gate would eventually consume it, but at what cost tothose carrying and stacking the faggots and bundles of wood? Still, some covermight be constructed for them.

Even then, the big problem remained:When the gate was breached, the narrow entrance would only allow a small numberof soldiers at a time to penetrate to the interior courts, and each of thosewas separately walled and defended. Uesugi had more than enough men to holdTakesuke off. Too many would die in such a gamble.

Akitada took up the arrow andfingered it thoughtfully. There was someone who might know a way.

He heard a sound in thearchives outside his office, and clapped his hands.

Hamaya stuck his head in. “YourExcellency is up already?”

Akitada did not bother tocorrect him. “Send for Sergeant Kaoru. And get someone to bring more coals andsome hot tea.”

Kaoru was prompt. It had been awhile since he had had occasion to come to Akitada’s office. When he sat down,he saw the arrow and flinched. His eyes flew to Akitada’s face.

“One of yours?” Akitada asked,watching him.

“What? Oh.” He shook his head.

“It is the arrow that shotKaibara. It occurred to me that it might have been you who shot him. Hitomarotold me of your skill with the bow.”

Kaoru blinked. “No, sir, notme, though I wish it had been. You remember I was here at the tribunal thatnight.”

“Ah, yes. Do you have any ideawho might have done it?”

Silence. A servant enteredquietly, bringing a fresh brazier of coals and a steaming pot of tea. Akitadawaited until he was gone. Then he said, “Come! You recognized the arrow. Whoseis it?”

Kaoru was pale now, but heanswered in a steady voice. “It belongs to a dead man, sir. That arrow is partof a set of contest arrows used by the late Lord of Takata’s elder brother.”

“Ah. I was sure I had seen somelike it in the Uesugi armory. It suggests that one of Uesugi’s own people shotKaibara.”

“No!”

Akitada raised his brows. “No?How else could this arrow get out of the armory?”

Kaoru looked at it as ifmesmerized. “The servants attach magic powers to … to these arrows and …there is much coming and going of servants at Takata. No doubt someone took itfrom the armory.”

“No doubt,” Akitada said dryly.“You seem well informed about the household. Have you spent much time there?”

A flush slowly rose on theother man’s face. “I did not steal the arrow, sir,” he said stiffly.

Akitada smiled. “Of course not,”he said affably. “I ask because I had hoped for information about the manor. Wewill move on Takata and demand Uesugi’s surrender today.”

“You will?” Relief gave way toexcitement. “Then the rumors are true. He will refuse to surrender and you willhave to attack the manor. May I join you, sir?”

Akitada felt depressed by theother man’s eagerness. “The bloodshed will be terrible. You would almostcertainly be killed. Besides, you are needed here.”

Kaoru bit his lip. His eyessearched Akitada’s face. Finally he said, “I could be of use. I know the manorvery well, having carried wood there all my life, ever since I was a small boyand went with my father.” He added, almost as an afterthought, “He was awoodcutter also.”

“A woodcutter, eh?” Akitadastudied the other man. “Tell me,” he asked casually, “where did you learn toread and write Chinese characters?”

“Chinese characters? I don’t…oh, you mean the jail records. I know just a few, for brevity.”

Akitada nodded. “Quite correctand appropriate for official documents. Our native tongue is more useful for poetryand the ladies’ romances. However, few people are adept at Chinese, especiallyat legal terminology, and I would guess your style is as good as Hamaya’s.Where did you learn it?”

Kaoru fidgeted. “A Buddhistpriest taught me when I was young,” he finally said.

Akitada smiled. “Really? ABuddhist priest? I see. You have a gentleman’s education and are a verytalented young man, Sergeant.”

Kaoru flushed more deeply. “Ido not lie either, sir,” he snapped.

“No, I can see that.” Akitadapaused a moment. Having enjoyed Kaoru’s discomfiture, he decided he hadtormented the young man enough. “Perhaps you would not mind drawing me a planof the manor. I am particularly interested to know if there is access by meansother than the main gate.”

Kaoru brightened. “There is oneway, sir. A hidden door and secret passage. But it will admit only a few men.”He reached for Akitada’s ink cake, poured a few drops of water in the dish andbegan to rub ink. “It’s in the northeast wall and leads to a narrow passageinside the wall. You come out in one of the closed galleries. Its purpose is toallow the lord and his family to escape, or to send out messengers if the manoris under siege.” Pulling over some paper with one hand, he dipped a brush intothe ink and began to sketch rapidly. “Here, sir. That’s where the exit is.”

Akitada bent over the plan andnodded. “Hmm. It could be just what we need. What about guards?”

“I doubt many know about it.Besides, only one man at a time can use it. There is a movable panel that canbe barred from inside.” Kaoru paused and then asked hesitantly, “Will you haveto tell many people about this, sir?”

“Don’t worry, your secret issafe. Only Tora and Hitomaro will know.”

Kaoru stared at him, butAkitada kept his face impassive. After a moment, Kaoru said, “I take it theyare to go in and then open the main gate for Takesuke’s men? I don’t think thatwill work, sir. The secret passage may not be guarded, but it is a long wayfrom the gate, and they do not know their way about. Please allow me toaccompany them.”

Akitada thought about it andnodded. “You may be right, and I suppose you are the only man for the job atthat.”

The other man blinked but saidnothing.

“Very well,” Akitada said,folding up the plan. “The four of us then.”

“Surely not you, sir? Whatabout Genba?”

“Genba has great strength andcourage, but he has never learned to use a sword. Besides, someone has to stayhere.”

“But what if something goeswrong . . . the place is crawling with warriors. Think of your lady.”

Akitada had looked in on Tamakoduring the night and watched her sleeping peacefully. The thought that theymight not meet again, and worse, that his decision would destroy her also,perhaps as soon as the following day, had sickened him. Now he glared at Kaoruand snapped, “I’m going.” Seeing Kaoru’s dismay, he added more calmly, “We willneed something to distract the soldiers’ attention.”

They sank into a glum silence.

“I think I have an idea,” Kaorusuddenly said, “but it will mean withdrawing the siege troops a little.”

“That can be arranged. Go on.”

“My grandmother is a miko,a medium who foretells the future by going to sleep and letting the gods speakthrough her. You know what I mean?”

Akitada nodded, but his heartsank. Hitomaro’s madwoman from the outcast village. He had little respect forsuch practices, and in this case their lives would depend on Kaoru’s senilegrandmother.

Kaoru saw his expression andsaid, “My grandmother is well known at the manor. She used to serve as a lady’smaid there many years ago when she was a young girl, and she still has friendsamong the servants.”

“Surely Uesugi will not admither at the present time.”

“On the contrary. He willwelcome her because he is superstitious. If Takesuke withdraws and she shows up,he will ask for a prediction about his chances.”

“Ah.” Akitada considered it,then shook his head. “No, I cannot permit it. It would put your grandmotherinto extreme danger.”

“She won’t stay long. Besides,they will be afraid to harm her.”

“But how will she be able tocreate a disturbance, yet leave before the alarm is given?”

“She will have help. She willonly tell Uesugi his future and leave a message with one of the servants.Koreburo will take care of everything else. He could set a small fire perhaps?”

Akitada considered the drawingagain and nodded slowly. “Yes, it might work. A small conflagration with muchsmoke, easily put out. Just here, I think. Where the southern gallery makes aturn.” He pointed, then looked up. “Did you say Koreburo? Isn’t that the oldman who used to play go with Hideo?”

Kaoru nodded. “He will be eagerto help. He blames Makio and Kaibara for Hideo’s death.”

“Does he indeed? He did not sayso to me.”

Kaoru shrugged. “He’s a strangeold fellow, but he could have picked up something from the other servants. Inany case, he can be trusted.”

Akitada gave the other man along look, then nodded. “Very well. I will give detailed instructions toTakesuke before we meet. Meanwhile, you can make your arrangements.”

Kaoru rose and bowed. “Youhonor me with your confidence, sir. Allow me.” He stepped to the shutters andthrew them open, letting in a gust of cold air. There was a full moon, fitfullyrevealed by dark clouds, but in the east the darkness grew faintly lighter. “Itwill be dawn in an hour. If I leave for my village immediately and carry mygrandmother part of the way to Takata on my horse, Koreburo should be readybefore the noon rice. Shall we meet below the manor at the start of the hour ofthe horse?”

“Yes.” Akitada came and lookedat the driving clouds. “When will the great snow start? I have been expectingit for weeks.”

“Perhaps today, perhaps later.”Kaoru spoke with the indifference of a local man. “The snows will come in theirown time.” He smiled suddenly. “It will still be possible to send the news tothe capital that we have taken Takata.”

Akitada raised his brows butsaid only, “We will need a signal from inside the manor.”

“When all is ready, Koreburowill give the cry of the snow goose. If that is all, sir, I shall be on my way.”

After Kaoru had gone, Akitadastood for a few more moments at the open shutters. The idea of war was foreignto him. This day would decide life or death for many. Uesugi, Takesuke, andKaoru, perhaps even the fate of an emperor along with that of an old servantwho risked his life for the memory of a dead friend. His own also, and that ofTamako and their unborn child. There were no more choices, no options ofescape. He had accepted this charge and offered up the lives of his family andhis friends along with his own. Tamako’s warning about the letter to thecapital came to his mind. Uesugi was not his only worry. Did any man have theright to gamble with the lives of others?

He sighed, hating this harshnorthern land with its superstitions, its violence, its people’s predilectionfor secrets and plots.

There was a scratching at thedoor. He called, “Enter!” and closed the shutters. Oyoshi came in hesitantly.

“Do I disturb you, sir?”

“No. You are very welcome.”Afraid that his fears and self-doubts were written large on his face, Akitadawas effusive, inviting Oyoshi to sit and pouring him a cup of tea.

Oyoshi looked strained, butAkitada’s fussing seemed to reassure him. “I have waited anxiously to speak toyou since we found Mrs. Omeya’s body,” he said after a sip of tea. “You havebeen very busy, and this has been my first opportunity. How are things going,sir?”

“I will leave for Takata latertoday,” said Akitada, “to settle the Uesugi matter.”

“Oh, dear. Forgive me. I havechosen a bad time. Let me be brief then. I wish to resign my office as yourcoroner.”

“But why?” Akitada’s heartsank. He had expected something, but he pretended surprised shock.

Oyoshi smiled a little. “Thereis no need to spare my feelings, sir. Even before Mrs. Omeya’s death, I feltthat you regretted my appointment. I made a foolish mistake with the mutilatedbody, and that certainly proved me incompetent. Since then, I’m afraid, therehave been more serious suspicions. I won’t embarrass you or myself by askingwhat they are, but I wanted to tell you that I will leave as soon as you havefound a replacement.”

Akitada sighed. “My friend,” hesaid, “and I hope I may still call you that-I have made many mistakes since Iarrived. Perhaps some of my mistakes have cost lives and will cost more. Notthe least of my mistakes was to doubt you. I should have known that a man whowould risk his life to perform an illegal exhumation at my request would not atthe same time plot against me.” He bowed to Oyoshi. “I apologize humbly for myfoolishness.”

The doctor became so agitatedthat he spilled his tea. “Oh, no,” he cried. “Please don’t. You were quiteright to suspect everyone, and who more than myself? What could you know aboutme, who had hidden his past from everyone? What should you think when I gavethe wrong testimony in court? Why should you trust me when I was soconveniently on the premises when Mrs. Omeya was killed? You did quite rightand have behaved with the greatest justice and patience towards me.”

“You will stay then?”

Oyoshi did not answer rightaway. He put down his teacup and wiped his fingers. “There is another thing. Ikilled someone,” he said softly. “I had a very bad moment when Tora saidsomething about murderous doctors and looked at me in a very knowing way. May Itell you about it?”

Akitada said quickly, “There isno need. I am quite satisfied.”

“Allow me, sir. Many years ago,in another province, I served as personal physician to … a powerful man. Icaused my patient’s death after I discovered that my wife had spent more timein his bed than in mine. It was wrong to love her more than my duty.” He brokeoff and raised a hand to hide his face in shame.

“You were not found out?”

Oyoshi lowered his hand andsmiled bleakly. “No. He was ill and I attended him. Once I was a very goodphysician. I could have saved his life, but I let him die. Afterwards Idivorced my wife and left the area. I spent the next ten years traveling,working at fairs and treating the poor, earning a few coppers as a barber nowand then to buy medicines. For another fifteen years after that I tried thereligious life. I entered a monastery, but in the end the guilt would not leaveme and it grated on my ears to be called a holy man. So I took to the roadagain and ended up here, where I hoped to end my life in obscurity.” He gave ahollow laugh and shook his head.

Akitada was relieved. “Legallyyou are not guilty of murder,” he said. “This will not prevent you from servingas coroner.”

“I must confess to yet anotheroffense,” Oyoshi said sadly. “When I saw you at Takata, ill, outnumbered,outmanipulated, and surrounded by forces you seemed neither by background norby personality equipped to handle, you seemed lost. Then, when you asked me toserve as your coroner, I formed the somewhat confused idea of throwing in mylot with you. Circumstances favored this, and the more I learned about you, themore convinced I became that joining your downfall would be my personalatonement. I planned to end my life with you and thus make amends for my past.But I was quite wrong. You have fought the evil in this province successfullyand you will prevail, while I must continue to bear my guilt.”

For a moment Akitada was sotaken aback by this that he did not know whether to laugh or be angry. Then heremembered the coming battle and said, “I suppose both my arrogance and myignorance, obvious to everyone but me, blinded me to the local problems in thebeginning. You were not wrong about me. I have little to be proud of, and had Iknown how badly I would bungle, I would have fled in panic. Let us hope thatsome good may still come of our most foolish actions. I want you to stay.”

Oyoshi brushed at his eyes. “Ifyou truly wish it, sir,” he murmured. He rose awkwardly and stumbled from theroom.

¦

Heavygray clouds swirled above and sleet stung their faces. Below them, the forestenclosing the frozen fields looked funereal, like a black stole draped across apallid hempen gown. It was past midday. Hours ago, Akitada and Takesuke hadridden up to the Takata gate and demanded Makio’s surrender. A hail of arrowshad been their answer. After that, Takesuke had withdrawn his troops, andAkitada, along with Hitomaro and Tora, had gone to meet Kaoru.

The four would make the dangerousattempt to get inside the fortified manor. They wore straw rain capes overlight armor and waited hidden among trees where they could see part of the roadleading up to the manor. A quarter of the hour passed before the old womanappeared, walking slowly and leaning on the arm of a girl.

“Isn’t that your sister?”Hitomaro asked Kaoru. “Why risk her life?”

“My cousin. She usually goesalong and I could not stop her.”

They waited again, nervouslynow, until the two women returned. The girl loosened the shawl around her headand let it blow in the wind for a moment before she retied it.

“Good girl! All is ready,” saidKaoru, adding grimly, “Let’s hope we do our part as well.”

Akitada looked up at the sky togauge the time. There was no sun. The icy wind pushed angry gray clouds beforeit, clouds so low that they hid the snowy tops of the distant mountains. Wispsof cloud drifted across the dark roofs of Takata manor- shredded silk gauzefrom a mourner’s train.

They left the trees at a runand dashed across the road. Up the hill, still at a run, they kept mostly to agully, a jagged scar which ran up the barren hillside. The gully gave them somecover, but then they were in the open again and close enough to the manor thata single archer on one of the galleries could pick them off one by one, likerunning deer.

As they ran uphill, the lowclouds finally released the first heavy drops. They congealed into sleet in thecold wind and stung their faces. Akitada clasped his heavy sword to his side soit would not get between his legs and trip him. His armor was also heavy andcumbersome, and the rain-soaked straw cape flapped wetly against him. Hisbreath soon came in hoarse gasps, his chest hurt, and his leg muscles ached,but he was ashamed to fall back behind the others. When they reached the steepoutcropping under the eastern wall, he sagged against the rock, drenched insweat despite the bitter cold.

They huddled there for alittle, in a blind spot where an overhanging gallery hid them from watchingeyes above, and waited for the signal. The icy wind cut through the straw coatsand turned the metal scales of their armor into ice against their wet bodies.Akitada’s teeth chattered from cold and nerves.

Below the land stretched away,empty sere fields traversed by the darker line of the road. They had come fromthe forest to the north and followed a path so narrow and overgrown that onlyKaoru had known how to find it. He had kept an eye on the ramparts above them,but they had seen no watchers. Takesuke and his men were on the other side,below the approach to the manor’s gate, and that was where Uesugi expected theattack to come from.

Here immense slabs of rock roseto an outer wall and to the black timbers of a gallery jutting into the stormygray sky above them. Dry shrubs and stunted trees grew from cracks in therocks. Kaoru moved along the path to one of the slabs of rock and felt it. Hegrunted and gave a push, and Akitada saw a crack widen into a thin blackfissure.

Like the tomb entrance, Akitadathought with a shiver. He said aloud, “What about the signal?”

Kaoru nodded. “We wait a littlelonger, but there isn’t much time left.”

So they stood, shivering in thesleeting rain with their sword grips freezing to their perspiring palms,wondering if Koreburo had been caught. Akitada heard distant drumbeats carriedon the wind in snatches. Takesuke was following instructions and exercising histroops. Akitada wished himself a common foot soldier, trotting briskly andunencumbered by heavy armor to the command of an officer. He was impatient toget this over with, to confront what lay in wait behind the stone door. Action,any kind of action, was preferable to this agonizing process of congealing inthe freezing blasts.

When it finally came, that cryof the snow goose, once, and quickly again, they exchanged glances, then tossedoff their straw wraps and gripped their swords more tightly. Kaoru and Toratogether pushed the stone aside. A dark and narrow stone stairway ascendedinside.

Suddenly, before Kaoru couldtake the lead, Hitomaro pushed past Akitada and disappeared into the darkness.Tora muttered a curse, and Akitada drew his sword and went after Hitomaro intothe murky shaft leading upward. Hitomaro’s rapid steps sounded ahead, but itwas too dark to see. What was the fool doing? At any moment he might run intodanger and give them away. More steps shuffled behind, but Akitada was bent oncatching up with Hitomaro.

The climb through a tight blackspace, only occasionally lit by air holes in the outer walls, seemed to lastforever. The steps twisted, turned, and switched back. Akitada’s sword onceclattered against the wall and he caught it. Someone behind him slipped andcursed softly. Sweat trickled down Akitada’s temples, and his fingers crampedaround the sword hilt. He tried to listen, but his breathing and the bloodpounding in his ears muffled all other sounds. If Hitomaro had encountered aguard, he was already a dead man. And so were they all.

Then he caught a faint whiff ofburning oil. Wood scraped on wood and, as he turned a corner, faint light camethrough a grate just large enough for a man to get through. Hitomaro coweredthere, a hulking black shadow, until Akitada saw his face flushed by the lightas he removed the grate and slipped through the opening.

“Come, sir,” he said softly,holding out a hand to Akitada. “It’s safe.”

“That was a very foolish trick,”Akitada hissed angrily. “You might have ruined everything by rushing ahead whenKaoru knows the way.”

Hitomaro’s face wasexpressionless. “Sorry, sir.”

Akitada climbed out into anempty enclosed gallery. The corridor was a little over a hundred feet long, itsnarrow shutters closed tight against the weather, and the dim space lit at eachend by large metal oil lamps attached to beams. It was silent and deserted, butthey could hear men shouting outside. No doubt Uesugi’s warriors were gettingready for Takesuke’s attack.

The other two joined them.Akitada said, “Very well. Let’s see about finding Uesugi and opening that gate.”It sounded ridiculously simple to his ears and, standing there in the enemy’sstronghold, he half believed it would be.

“Come and see,” Kaoru gruntedand opened one of the shutters a crack.

When Akitada joined him, helooked through a loophole from which an archer could shoot arrows into thelower entrance courtyard. Armed soldiers sat about in small groups.Black-and-white Uesugi banners were everywhere. One man carried equipment tothe tower above the gate. Akitada’s heart sank. They could not reach the gatewithout being cut down in the attempt. Even if the men in the courtyard couldbe distracted long enough, the watchtower above bristled with archers.

Kaoru closed the shutter andwent to put the grate back into place. “We cannot stay here,” he said softly. “Someonemight come any moment. Follow me, but remember the place in case you have torun for your life.” They ran down the corridor away from the main house.Akitada chafed at this and at the fact that Kaoru had taken over and was givingthe orders, but he submitted. He felt badly out of his depth.

The gallery adjoined another,equally empty, and this led to one of the service areas. Kaoru peered outcautiously. It was the kitchen yard, and deserted. No smoke came from thekitchen hearth. The cooking fires had been extinguished prior to battle. Kaorucrossed the yard, headed for a storage shed. They followed, slipped in behindhim, and he closed the door.

“You’ll be safe here for themoment,” he said.

They stood in a small spacefilled with baskets and brooms, kettles and pails, faggots and oil jars, allthe paraphernalia to keep a large household stocked. Akitada’s heart waspounding. He said, “The gate. We must reach that gate. How many men does ittake to open it?”

“One, at the most two.”

Kaoru still sounded confident,but Akitada had become all too aware of his own lack of planning. “You’re sure?”he persisted, wondering if two of them could engage the soldiers he had seen,some fifteen or twenty, long enough to let the other two slip past to the gate.With the archers above, it wasn’t likely.

“There’s a counterweight. I cando it by myself.”

“We need to draw some of thesoldiers away. What about that fire Koreburo was to start?”

Kaoru opened the shed door andpeered out. He closed it again. “No sign of it. He should have done so already.If you’ll wait here, I’ll try to find him.” Before Akitada could protest, Kaoruhad slipped out.

Akitada suppressed a suddenpanic and motioned to the other two to sit down. They sat, each caught in hisown thoughts, and waited in the murky semidarkness of the small shed. The smellof wood and dried grasses hung in the chill air.

Tora’s eyes were wide open andhis hands twitched occasionally with suppressed excitement. Hitomaro leanedback against the wall, perfectly still, his eyes closed, his chin on his chest.Looking at them, Akitada reflected how close these two men were to him, and howdanger affected them all differently. He remembered Takesuke’s fervent wishthat Uesugi would attack the tribunal, while he himself had been weighed downwith fears for his family and his people. Takesuke’s high spirits had struckhim as irresponsible and bloodthirsty then. Now he wondered if he was the onewho was inadequate to his duty. Takesuke, Tora, and Hitomaro were all trainedsoldiers, while he was an official. What did he know of war? Yet, by acceptingthis appointment, he had also accepted the possibility of having to fight.

Here he was, in unaccustomedarmor and uncomfortable, feeling ambivalent about the violence he was about toface and-worse-to commit. They had gained entrance to the stronghold withoutbeing discovered, but the real test still lay ahead, and Akitada doubted thathe could pass it.

If Kaoru was caught, he wouldbe questioned under torture. Whether he revealed their presence or not, asubsequent search would find them, and then they would die ignobly here,slaughtered among brooms and braziers. There was no defense against the odds,even if it were possible to swing a sword in these cramped quarters.

It wasn’t going to be easy atall.

* * * *

TWENTY-ONE

TO THE DEATH

A

kitadadid not want to wait for death.

Neither did the others. Torabroke into his thoughts impatiently. “Where in hell is Kaoru? He has nerve,telling us to sit here and wait for him. Who does he think he is? I don’t likeit. We’re stuck here like rats in a box.” He stood up and walked to the door,opening it a crack.

Hitomaro went to join him. “It’stoo quiet,” he said.

Tora asked, “What if it’s atrap, sir? To my mind the fellow’s just too well informed about this place fora mere woodsman.”

Akitada hated the inactivity,but he shook his head. “No, we must trust Kaoru. He’ll be back any moment.”

Hitomaro closed the door andpaced. Tora grunted and sat down.

Akitada thought he could findthe way to the gate from what he remembered of his earlier visits. They hadbeen taken from the gate to an inner courtyard. From there, Akitada had goneinto the main house. The trouble was, he was not sure where they were now. Heclosed his eyes and pictured Kaoru’s sketch of the secret entrance. He mustsomehow get back to the main house. The gallery from which he had seen thenorth pavilion had been on the west side, but they had gone there throughanother gallery that served as an armory.

Never mind. They were notheaded to the north pavilion but to the gate. They had to open the gate to letTakesuke in before they did anything else. The problem was how to get therefrom here. He had spoken to the servants in a courtyard not unlike the one theywere in. For that matter, where were the servants? Some must be in the kitchen,even with the fires out. Had they all been pressed into defending the manor?

“Tora,” he said, opening hiseyes, “where did they take you during the banquet?”

“One of their barracks. Theyfed me. Seemed decent fellows.” Tora grimaced.

Akitada guessed that Tora didnot like the thought of killing such hospitable men, or being killed by them. “Butwhere were the barracks? In relation to the gate and the main house?”

“Between the house and thegate. Why?”

That accounted for one of thecourtyards. “I’m wondering if we can find our way to the gate without Kaoru.Takesuke’s men are preparing to attack. We cannot wait much longer.”

“Then let’s go, sir.” Hitomarowas on his feet. “I have a bad feeling about this.”

Akitada sighed and rose. “Yes.Something must have gone wrong. We have waited long enough. Take another look outsideand tell me if you see any smoke anywhere in the compound.”

Hitomaro reported, “Nothing,sir. They must’ve caught both of them.”

Akitada looked around the shed.“Very well. Since the materials are at hand, we’ll make the fire here. Pile upall the baskets, brooms, and kindling against that wall over there. Then we’llpour the lamp oil over it and light it.”

Tora grinned. “Good idea. Thekitchen next door has a thatched roof. That should get their attention.”

Hitomaro nodded, and they fellto work. Akitada emptied baskets and tossed them on the pile. “We are goingback the way we came,” he said as he worked. “That gallery should take us tothe main house, and from there we’ll get to the gate.”

“They’ll be coming that waywhen they see the fire,” Hitomaro muttered.

“We’ll just have to be fast,”said Tora happily.

Akitada thought it likely that theywould be seen even before the smoke attracted notice. He dragged one of thehuge earthenware jars full of oil across the dirt floor. Hitomaro came to givehim a hand. Together they lifted and emptied the dark, viscous liquid over thepile. Their enemies had thoughtfully supplied an assortment of flints, wicks,and spills to keep the manor’s oil lamps lit, and in a moment eager flameslicked upward, joining others with a cheerful crackle, and cast a flickeringred light on their faces. Smoke rose.

They looked at each other. Tora’sgrin looked more like a demon’s snarl in the firelight. Akitada tried to shedthe image of hell, and said, “Good. Let’s go.”

Just as they burst from theshed, Akitada in front, a woman cried out. The kitchen door stood open, and twomaids goggled at them and at the inferno behind them. Ignoring the maids, theycrossed the courtyard at a run and entered the enclosed gallery. Miraculously,it was still empty. Midway, Akitada checked his speed and opened one of theloophole shutters. The scene below had changed. The watchtower, almost on alevel with the gallery, now bristled with archers and the men in the courtyardwere on their feet, swords and halberds at the ready. Judging from the soundsof high-pitched whinnies and scuffling of hooves, there were horses, too.Akitada estimated thirty men below and twenty on the tower, and more wereprobably out of sight or waiting in other courtyards. Those he could see hadtheir backs to him, their attention on what was going on outside the gate. Andnow he heard it, the sound of approaching battle drums.

Takesuke had arrived, and theymust move, but attempting to open the gate would be certain suicide. When wouldthe enemy notice the fire? And would they care enough about a fire in a kitchenyard to abandon their watch on the gate? But fires spread. They could notignore this. At least some of the men in the courtyard would rush to put itout.

One of the archers on thewatchtower finally turned his head and saw it. “Fire!” he screamed, and again, “Fire!”his arm pointing. Akitada stepped back from the shutter. The men in thecourtyard turned, cried out, and after a moment’s consternation, an officershouted orders, and they began to run in all directions. Tora came to look andlaughed out loud.

Akitada slammed the shutter. “Comeon.”

They ran to the end of thecorridor and into an open gallery crossing a walled interior garden. Sleet haddriven in to gather against the walls and whiten the few shrubs and rocks. Agate led from the garden. Akitada found the stairs, and they ran down. Just asthey reached the small gate, it burst open and a warrior came rushing through.He saw them, cried, “Tell his Lordship there’s a big fire in the kitchens.Lieutenant Imazu has gone to put it out.” He turned, then paused and swungback, puzzled. “Who are you?”

Hitomaro’s blade flashed. Therewas a sickening sound, and the man’s head rolled into the shrubbery, his bloodspurting over Hitomaro and Akitada as the body sagged at the knees and fellacross their path. Hitomaro stepped over it to the gate. Akitada gulped andwiped at the warm wetness on his face.

“Go on, sir,” urged Tora behindhim, and Akitada gripped his sword, stepped over the fallen man, and followedHitomaro through the gate and down more steps. He saw that they were in thebarracks courtyard now and no longer alone. Soldiers ran this way and that,shouting to each other. Nobody paid attention to three armed men coming fromthe direction of the main house.

They moved quickly andpurposefully and passed unhindered through the inner gate, down more steps andinto the gate courtyard.

Here there were fewer soldiersthan before, though the watchtower was still fully manned with archers who sentvolley after volley of arrows down at Takesuke’s men outside. The arrows foundtheir targets. Screams came from outside, and triumphant shouts from above.Akitada thought of the narrow space outside and how any attempt on the closedgate meant almost certain death.

He hurried, trying to rememberwhat Kaoru had said about the gate-something about its being counterbalanced sothat one man could open it. There was another bloodcurdling scream, and hebroke into a run. Tora and Hitomaro followed. Someone shouted at them, but allthree made it under the gateway, and there, in the shadows, Akitada saw theropes and pulleys. Huge stones hung suspended by ropes that ran over wheels.The gate itself was massive, iron-studded, and barred with an enormoushorizontal timber. He could faintly hear the sound of battle-axes against themany layers of wood-Takesuke’s brave men dying in a shower of arrows fromabove-and felt defeated by the massiveness of the structure. Where was Kaoru?Tora was already pushing at the bar, and Hitomaro ran to give him a hand. Thebar did not budge. Akitada turned to look up at the ropes and stones, trying totrace their path, hoping to understand the crude but effective mechanism. Threeof Uesugi’s men rushed in, shouting questions. Akitada grunted something inanswer, but it was no good. They had realized the truth and attacked. One ofthem, a big, bearded man, ran at Akitada with the wicked steel blade of thehalberd aimed at his belly. Akitada moved aside, felt the blade slice throughhis trousers, took his sword in both hands and swung down, severing the halberd’swooden handle-a foolish move, because his attacker simply dropped it and drew ashort sword instead. For a moment they grappled. The other was bigger andstronger and forced Akitada back against the wall. Another soldier appeared behindhim, grinning too soon, because suddenly Kaoru was there beside Akitada andslashed at the man’s legs. As he fell screaming, Akitada managed to break freeand shove his sword into the man’s chest with such force that it disappearednearly to the hilt. An almost comical expression of surprise passed over thebearded face, then he sagged, skewered, a dead weight on the sword. Akitada hadto put his foot on the dead man’s body to pull out his weapon. He turned away,dazed by the violence.

“Get back, sir. Get outside!”Kaoru shouted to him and jumped for the largest of the suspended stones.

“Where have you been?” demandedAkitada.

Kaoru missed and jumped again. “Notnow,” he gasped. This time he grasped the stone and brought it down with him.The wheels spun, ropes creaked-

“Sir!” shouted Tora.

Akitada swung around and lookedinto another halberd coming at his chest. Uesugi’s people had finally graspedwhat was happening, and the fight was on. Akitada brought up his swordinstinctively and deflected the halberd. Equally instinctively- for nowhere hadhis past training involved fighting with swords against these viciouslong-handled weapons carried by most foot soldiers-he drove forward and wasmildly astonished how easily his blade slid into the other man’s belly.

“Sir-watch out!”

Tora again, and Akitada jerkedback, bringing the sword with him followed by a gush of blood and his victim’sscream. The gate enclosure had filled with men. There was no time to think,just to fend off the attack and kill. His lessons forgotten, Akitada slashedand swung, two-handed, at wild-eyed shouting men, making a path to the outside,dimly aware of Tora’s curses and Hitomaro’s broad shoulders and flashing blade.They beat them back, one by one, into the courtyard.

Others came running, but a loudclanking and grinding signaled the opening of the gate, and then came thetriumphant din of shouting men as Takesuke’s soldiers streamed into Takatamanor. They carried the Sugawara insignia of the white plum blossom on their redbanners, and Akitada felt a moment’s dizzy pride-until the slaughter began.

The passage was narrow, and asthe men emerged in groups of three or four at a time, a hail of arrows fromabove greeted them. The archers felled every second man. Akitada saw one of thearrows pass through a banner and into the man’s unprotected skull. As hewatched the soldier topple forward, another arrow glanced off his own helmet,making his ears ring, and Hitomaro pulled him into the shadow of the wall.

“Stay here, sir. Tora and I aregoing up.”

Akitada gulped some air andglanced up. Stairs led to the tower platform above him. From there, the Uesugi’sarchers were taking out Takesuke’s men as easily as the courtiers back in thecapital used to shoot the deer driven into an enclosure by beaters. He cried, “Comeon!” and made for the stairs.

“Wait, sir.” Tora caught hissleeve.

Akitada wanted to tear awayangrily, but then he remembered his place and stepped aside. A retainer’s dutywas to protect his master. Shame attached to him if he failed to do so.Hitomaro was already running up the steps, Tora at his heels, when Akitadafollowed.

The first steps were of stonebut where the tower began, they changed to wood and the space narrowed so thatonly one man could climb. Akitada could see the gray sky ahead. Then a faceappeared against it. Tora flung himself against the wall, and Hitomaro ducked.An arrow hissed past Akitada’s ear, hit the wooden wall behind him with a sharpthwack. The shaft hummed as it vibrated from the impact.

Tora jumped forward. With aroar, he seized the archer’s leg and pulled him down through the opening. Asthe man fell, Hitomaro ran his sword through him, pulled it out, and pushed thebody down toward Akitada.

Akitada ducked aside, then ranup the rest of the steps. The top of the watchtower was becoming a scene ofcarnage. In the dreary light of the winter day, Tora and Hitomaro slashed rightand left at the archers who dropped their bows but had only short swordsagainst their long ones.

He took a deep breath, gaggedon the smell of fresh blood in his nostrils, and flung himself into the fray ofclashing blades and grunting, screaming men. He lunged and slashed, lungedagain, parried, felt his sword bite, and dove under a raised weapon. Hepartially decapitated one man who was about to stab Tora in the back, thenturned and slashed at another who was coming at him. With his longer blade, hecaught him across the belly, laying open pale intestines quickly covered withblood. The man dropped his sword and clutched at himself, his eyes wide withpleading. But Akitada was already moving past him, pursuing another man, hismouth opened in terror as he backed away. Before Akitada could kill him, theman screamed and flung himself over the railing to his death below.

It became quiet on thewatchtower. Outside the clouds moved slowly in the wind and gusts of sleet blewin. A few of the archers had escaped down the stairs, another had jumped, therest lay dead or wounded. The wooden boards were slick with blood. Only thethree of them were left standing. Tora wiped blood from his face and bellowed acheer. Then he grinned at Akitada. “We got them, sir.”

Akitada grinned back, feelingan enormous surge of exultation. He had fought and survived. One of the woundedwept noisily. Akitada slipped in a puddle of blood oozing from a dead man. Thiswas war and it was more exciting than anything he had ever done before. Hewanted more of it. Leaning over the side of the tower, he looked down into thecourtyard. Frightened horses ran among the scattered bodies. Here and there, awounded man was dragging himself to safety. Takesuke’s soldiers wereeverywhere, their red banners with the Sugawara crest fluttering where Uesugi’sblack and white ones had been before. From the barracks courtyard he could hearmore sounds of fierce fighting-screaming men and clashing metal. To the east,the dense cloud of smoke over the kitchen area had doubled in size and flameslicked through the blackness.

Time to look for Uesugi. Whyhad he not joined his men? The main house lay as yet untouched.

Hitomaro was already runningdown the stairs. Tora checked the wounded and tossed their weapons over thebalustrade.

“Have you seen Kaoru?” Akitadaasked.

“Who cares about him,” Toragrowled. “I couldn’t believe my ears when he started giving the orders.”

Akitada, still filled with joy,chuckled and wiped his bloody blade on the jacket of one of the dead. “It’s inhis blood, Tora.”

Tora paused to stare. “What?”

Akitada made for the stairs. “Nevermind. Come, there’s more work to be done. You don’t want Takesuke to have allthe glory, do you?”

They ran down the stairs andacross the entrance courtyard, dodging horses and Takesuke’s men. Tora snatchedone of the Sugawara banners from a fallen man and carried it. No point ingetting killed by their own. Up the next set of stairs and into the barracksenclosure. They caught up with Hitomaro, and together again they skirted thevicious fighting. More Uesugi archers were shooting arrows from the loopholesof the gallery they had been in earlier, and below foot soldiers slashed andlunged at each other with halberds. Neither Uesugi nor his senior retainerswere in sight.

They made for the small doorthat led to the main house.

“Wait!” Kaoru, bloodied butdetermined, joined them. They went through the door and into the small gardenwhere the headless corpse still lay across the path.

“What took you so long?”Akitada demanded, stopping just inside and glaring at Kaoru. “We waited in thatshed until we were sure you had been captured.”

Kaoru grimaced. “I couldn’tfind Koreburo right away. They caught him setting his fire. He was still alivewhen I found him and … I could not leave him right away. Sorry, sir.”

Akitada was sobered. “Poor oldman. Very well, let’s go get Makio and stop this killing.”

There was no more need forcaution now. The archers at their loopholes were too intent on the foe outsideto turn around. The four of them ran past and into the main house, their boots thumpingup stairways and across the glossy boards. They slammed through doorways andflung back sliding doors. The armory had served its purpose. Weapons chestsstood open and empty, some of their contents gone or scattered about. Helmets,parts of armor, long swords, discarded halberds, and an upended quiver of shortarrows lay abandoned like the toys of giant children.

In the reception area, foursenior Uesugi officers, older men with lined faces and grizzled beards, guardedthe doors to the ceremonial hall. They drew their swords. Hitomaro instantlyflung himself at them, and Kaoru and Tora joined him. There were four of theenemy, seasoned fighters and rested, but Akitada could not wait. His bloodysword in hand, he moved past them and flung open the great double doors to thehall.

“Takata has fallen. In the nameof the emperor, surrender!”

Time seemed to pause asstartled faces turned toward him. Uesugi sat, straddling a campaign stool onthe dais. He wore white silk robes under black lacquered armor and his blackhorned helmet was on his head. Seated on the floor in a semicircle before himwere seven or eight armed men, their helmets held respectfully against theirbodies. Akitada almost laughed out loud: the general at a council of war afterthe battle was already lost.

But then, of one accord, thewarriors were up, dropping their helmets, drawing their swords and charging.There was no time left to prepare. Like the four outside, these were older men,but they were desperate and duty-bound to die for their lord. Akitada knew hecould not fight them all and survive, and suddenly the icy clutch of feartwisted inside him again. He slashed out wildly at the first man and, with moreluck than skill, severed his sword hand, but two more were on him. He lunged,parried a hard stroke, took a step forward and lunged again, slashing at oneman’s thighs, then brought up his blade to sweep the other man’s sword aside.The Uesugi warrior screamed and fell, and suddenly he was no longer alone. Torawas beside him, shouting, “Kill the bastards!” as he cut off a man’s head in aspray of blood. Akitada’s blade scraped across a breastplate, driving anotherfighter back. He followed, aiming for the unprotected neck of his helmetlessadversary. The other twisted away, and the blade missed, slicing deeply intohis arm instead. Akitada’s sword became entangled in the cords of the other man’sarmor. He kneed him in the groin and jerked it free. And then he saw his wayclear and made for the dais, dodging one blade, and slashing at another, hiseyes on Uesugi.

The Lord of Takata had jumpedup, sword in hand, his round face as white as his robe. The small eyes bulgedand his mouth was open. He saw Akitada coming for him, but he stood, sworddangling, frozen and speechless.

So it was going to be easyafter all, thought Akitada, surprised-almost disappointed. He simply stepped upon the dais and placed the tip of his sword against Uesugi’s throat. “Stop thefighting!” he shouted over the noise of clashing swords and the cries of thewounded. He told Uesugi, “It’s over. Tell your men to surrender!”

It became quiet in the hall.

Uesugi swallowed, then noddedhis head violently, causing the tip of Akitada’s sword to nick his throat. Afew red drops fell on the white silk of his robe. He looked down, whimpered,then sat, muttering, “Blood. She said blood on snow. Blood on the snow!”Raising his hands to Akitada, he cried, “I surrender, I surrender! Don’t killme! I will serve the emperor. I have many men, much influence. A treaty. We canmake a treaty. I guarantee protection against the northern barbarians inexchange for my life.” Behind Akitada someone cursed loudly-one of Uesugi’smen.

Akitada put up his sword andturned away in disgust. Two of the Takata warriors, both wounded, had loweredtheir swords at Uesugi’s cry of surrender. Tora was leaning against a pillar.He bled from several wounds. Akitada looked for the others. Kaoru, also bloody,pulled his sword from the belly of a fallen Uesugi fighter and released a redtide. His victim died with a shout and convulsion, and Kaoru gave Akitada anod.

Hitomaro, miraculouslyunscathed, stood in a pool of blood above a fallen warrior, sword gripped inboth hands, on his face the fierce snarl of one of the guardian spirits attemple gates. He was looking around for more butchery, but the last two Uesugiofficers dropped their swords with grim faces and knelt. It was over.

“Who is second in command here?”Akitada snapped.

One warrior looked around atthe bodies, then rose.

“You heard your master. Gooutside and order your men to lay down their arms. This stronghold has fallenand Lord Uesugi is my prisoner.” As an afterthought, he added, “In the name ofhis most august Majesty.”

At that moment, Akitada savoredthe intoxicating taste of victory. His hands and knees trembled with theemotion. But he reminded himself that the credit for their success must beshared and turned to Kaoru. “You may take charge of Takata manor.”

Then, with hideous irony,fortune turned.

Akitada had shifted hisattention from Kaoru to Tora, to ask about his wounds. As their eyes met,Akitada saw Tora’s widen in sudden horror. What happened next would alwaysremain a blur in his memory. He heard a hoarse, almost inhuman roar, and sawHitomaro rush at Uesugi with a drawn sword.

Instinctively Akitada steppedin front of his prisoner and into Hitomaro’s path. The force of their collisioncost them both their balance. Akitada was flung aside and half fell. He saw hisburly lieutenant falter and change the grip on his sword, saw Uesugi up andmoving forward with his sword, saw Hitomaro stagger back, then swing his bladein a wide arc.

It was all over in a breath,but compressed into that moment were sounds as well as sights, the stamping offeet, the clatter of the toppled campaign stool, the rustle of Uesugi’s silksand hiss of Hitomaro’s sword, human grunts, and then the heavy thud of bodiesfalling onto the wooden dais. And silence.

He was sickened. A singlemistake, a wrong move, and triumph had turned to despair.

Uesugi and Hitomaro laysprawled across the dais in a parody of embracing lovers. The Lord of Takatawas dead. His head, partially severed, rested oddly next to his right shoulderin a quickly widening pool of gore; the piggish eyes had rolled upward, showingtheir whites, and his teeth were bared in a final snarl. The horned helmet laynear Akitada’s feet, which were speckled with blood. And Uesugi’s snowy silkrobe now bore the crimson blossoms of his violent death.

Hitomaro, who had fallen partlyacross Uesugi’s body, slowly rolled onto his back. His left hand was at hischest, clutching the blade of Uesugi’s sword which protruded from his ribs. Hegrimaced with pain. The fingers of his right hand relaxed around the grip ofhis own bloodstained blade.

Tora came and bent over hisfriend. When he straightened up, he had a strange, hurt look on his face. “Sir?”

The blood bubbling up betweenthe sword and Hitomaro’s hand was bright red and foamy. There was no survivingsuch a wound to the lungs. Akitada fell to his knees beside him.

“My friend,” he pleaded,putting his hand on the one that still gripped the deadly blade. “Pleaseforgive me.”

Hitomaro looked up at him andshook his head. “Nothing to forgive … I wanted death,” he mouthed,half-choking. Then, making a great effort, he added, “Sorry about. . .” and coughed once, blood trickling from the corner of his- mouth into his beard. “Too much . ..” He raised himself up a little, coughed again, then vomited a crimson flood and fell back.

Akitada got up. He looked aboutthe room blindly. “How did this happen? Why did Hitomaro attack Uesugi? Therewas no need. Uesugi had surrendered. It was all so easy. Why?”

Tora said, “Uesugi drew his sword, sir. While you had your back to him. The slimy coward was going to cut you down. Hitomaro stopped him.”

A grim-faced Kaoru walked up and stood staring down at the two corpses. “A warrior’s death for Hitomaro,” he said. “No man could die better than this.”

Without a word, Akitada turned and strode from the hall. Out in the gallery, he stepped over the dead warriors and threw wide a shutter to gulp in the frigid air. Sleet had gathered like grains of rice on the sill. Below, the land lay dark and forbidding under the heavy clouds. Faintly, the sound of temple bells came on the wind from the distant city.

The icy air settled his stomach a little. His face tingled with cold and when he touched it, he found it wet with tears. Ashamed, he rubbed the moisture away. From the courtyard below rose the victorious shouts of Takesuke’s men. He leaned forward and looked down. The Sugawara family crest blazed on the banners. This day he had taken an impregnable fortification for the emperor but lost a loyal friend.

Looking down at his hands he saw that they were stained with blood-Hitomaro’s along with that of too many other men he had killed. How was he to live with his friend’s blood on his hands? Hitomaro had saved his life, and he had stupidly stepped in his way and caused his death as surely as if he had held Uesugi’s sword himself. He clenched his fists until his nails bit deeply into his palms.

Something soft and white drifted in. A snowflake. For him this snow country would always be tinged with blood. He sighed deeply and glanced toward the north pavilion overhanging the ramparts, site of the death of the previous Lord of Takata and the murder of his faithful servant Hideo. It reminded him that he had one more errand to perform.

Hunching his shoulders against the icy air, he walked quickly down corridors. A maid peered from an open doorway, paled at the sight of his blood-smeared face and hands, and ran. When he reached the open gallery, he found that the wind had died down, but the snow still fell softly and silently. There was very little smoke now, and he realized that they must have extinguished the fire.

The door to the north pavilion was unlocked, and inside everything looked the same. He had worried that Uesugiwould order a thorough cleaning, but either respect or superstition had caused him to leave the room untouched.

He went to the window above thet hick mat where the old lord had died. The crooked blind of speckled bamboo wasas he remembered it, and beside the mat was the chest which held the dead man’s bedding and his writing set, the single clue to what had happened that night.

Stepping on the mat, he untied the bamboo shade, half afraid that his guess had been wrong. But it unrolled with a rush and clatter, releasing a sheet of paper which fluttered to hisfeet. The thick mulberry paper was covered with spidery script and bore a crimson seal.

Picking it up, Akitada noted both signature and seal, glanced at the content, then rolled up the document and put it in his sleeve.