The Old Men of Omi

Chapter Twenty-Five

The day after Tora and Saburo came to their decision to hunt down Kojo and as many of his cohorts as possible, Saburo claimed that he needed to visit the Sugawara farm to look into some problems with their bookkeeping. He departed on horseback early in the morning.

Tora knew he had gone into the Hiei Mountains and worried himself nearly sick. He did not want Saburo’s life on his conscience; he feared Akitada’s fury when he discovered their disobedience and dismissed Saburo again; and he felt guilty because the knowledge of his previous, ill-considered adventure rested heavily upon him.

Even while he knew he should rise above his mistake and bear his humiliation at the hands of the sohei as fair punishment, he could not rest. If Kojo were killed or rearrested, then the bastard would at least be punished, the dead could rest more easily, and the injured could take some satisfaction from it. He had a duty to himself and to others.

Still, there was Saburo. He claimed to be acting on his own behalf, but he had not made any effort before, and his torture on the mountain was by now many years old.

In the end, he tried to concentrate on what he must do. It was important that no one find out about their plan or they would be stopped. They would leave after dark, and Tora hoped their venture would be finished the same night. He fidgeted and paced restlessly, until Hanae was in the main house and Yuki was with the master’s children at their lessons. Then he hurried to secrete his half armor, sword, short sword, and boots under some straw in the stable. After that he could do little but wait.

Saburo did not return by nightfall, but Hanae confronted him.

“What are you up to?” she demanded.

He tried to look innocent. “Nothing, my love. You look very charming when you put your hands on your hips like that and raise your pretty chin.”

“Don’t lie to me. I’m your wife and I know you’re up to something. First you come home all beaten up and sit around looking miserable, and then you’re suddenly different, nervous like a cat in heat. For days, I haven’t been able to get a word out of you and you barely looked at your son when he showed you proudly what the schoolmaster had written on his essay. You’ve been neither a husband nor a father!”

Her words wounded him; she confirmed what he had thought to himself: he was no good to them any longer. He tried a smile and failed. With a sigh, he said, “I’m sorry, love,” hanging his head and hoping she would not probe further. To his relief, she came, stood on her tiptoes, and put her arms around his neck.

“Oh, Tora, I didn’t mean it. We love you. Don’t look like that. Tell me what’s wrong. We’ll find a way.”

He was so deeply moved by her words and her embrace that he almost burst out with the whole story, but he had promised Saburo who feared for his job. So he took his wife in his arms, lifting her slight body, and nuzzling her neck. “I love you, too. More than anything, both of you. It hurts me to have you doubt me.” Good! Counter complaints might distract her.

Not so.

Hanae released herself. “So what’s wrong, husband?” she demanded again.

He sighed. It would have to be lies. He didn’t like lies. Hanae had a way of seeing through them. Perhaps a half truth might work. “It’s just that I’m such a failure,” he muttered. “I let them capture me, and the master saw how useless I was and sent me home.”

“Oh.” She was taken aback. “But that’s silly. You couldn’t help it, and you’re wrong about the master.”

What did women know about male pride?

Tora nodded. “I just realized it myself. I’ll be all right. And where’s Yuki? I’ll take him into town and buy him a new kite to show how proud I am of him.”

Hanae brightened. “Oh, he’ll like that. And there’s a nice breeze. Maybe you can find an open space and fly it? You’ll both enjoy that.”

And so Tora and his son spent the afternoon together, shopping for the most gorgeous dragon kite and then flying it on the shore of the Kamo River. It was most enjoyable and Tora decided that he would spend more time with Yuki, who was growing up so fast and was already taller than his dainty mother-and much smarter than his father.

But he did not forget about Saburo and what lay ahead in the immediate future.

?

Night came and with it rain. Saburo had not returned. Tora kept watching the gate anxiously. Eventually, he joined his family for their evening rice, but he kept an ear out for any sounds of Saburo. Before they went to bed, he made one more round to look for him, claiming that he was checking that all was secure for the night. Alone in bed with Hanae, who was more than usually affectionate, he thought of their plan and somehow found that he needed to make love to her before it was too late. Afterward he held her until she was asleep. But he lay awake and fearful, listening to the rain.

He did not know how much later he finally heard a soft rustle outside their room. Then there was a “ssst”, and he almost laughed out loud with relief. Slipping carefully from under their shared quilt, he scooped up the pile of his clothing which he had left conveniently close to their bedding, and tiptoed to the shuttered door. This he eased open carefully and soundlessly. He was about to step outside, when Hanae murmured, “Be careful!”

He paused in shock, then said, “I will, because I love you.”

Outside, huddled under a dripping roof, Saburo waited.

“How did it go?” Tora asked softly as they hurried toward the stable.

“All right.”

“You picked up a trail?”

“Yes.”

A strange peace filled Tora’s heart. Somehow, overnight, he had found his courage again. Hanae trusted him; his son loved him; and he was about to get his honor back.

They lit a lamp in the stable and Tora put on his clothes. “Tell me,” he said.

“There’s an old man. He knows where they are.”

Tora noticed how wet and tired Saburo looked. “Are you good to go?” he asked anxiously.

“Yes. Just don’t wear me out with talking.”

“You want to rest a little? Maybe eat something?”

“Don’t be silly. Do you want everybody to know?”

Tora said nothing. Hanae knew something was up, but he hoped she would keep the secret. He dug out his boots and half armor, finished putting them on, and shoved his swords through his belt. “Let’s go,” he said.

They slipped out through the small gate, thankful that there no longer was a dog to wake, and walked to the nearest livery stable where they rented two horses from a sleepy groom. Then they were on the road into the mountains.

The rain had let up a little. Tora looked up at the sky, but it was still heavily overcast. He sniffed the air. “Smells like more rain,” he called out to Saburo.

“What?”

“Rain! Are you asleep?” Tora felt instantly guilty for the jibe. Saburo had been in the mountains for more than a day and a night now without any sleep.

Saburo said nothing.

“Sorry, brother. Should we rest?”

“Later. When we’re in position.”

Tora was curious what “in position” meant but left Saburo alone to doze as they rode.

When they passed through forest, they could see nothing and had to rely on their horses to find the way. The road had narrowed and climbed. The road surface was loose rubble, wet from rain, and the horses slipped now and then. The moisture in the air intensified. Tora wondered how soon the rain would start again and how they could fight in the dark and on slippery ground. Perhaps they could surprise the sohei inside some temple building. He hated to ride into a bloody confrontation knowing nothing about what awaited them.

When they emerged from the forest, he could see that they had travelled quite a distance up Mount Hiei and called out again, “Wait, brother! Where are we? And where are we going?”

Saburo reined in his horse and waited for Tora to catch up. “Just another half hour and then we’ll go down into a valley. It’s on the back of the mountain from the temple side. They’re hiding there in an abandoned hut.”

“That’s good. We can jump them inside. I hate to fight in the rain.” Tora held out his hand to catch the first drops. “How many are there?”

“About five or six. One’s wounded.”

“That means he was in the attack on the tribunal.”

“Yes.”

Tora grinned. Saburo was a mere shadow in the darkness. “We’ll make short work of them, brother.”

Saburo said nothing. He urged his horse forward again, and they continued their climb to a ridge that loomed in solid darkness against a charcoal sky with roiling clouds. The rain fell steadily now.

Sometime later they reached the ridge and started downward. The trees had thinned and Tora realized that their path had deteriorated to a mere track. The horses struggled more going downward, and after a while Tora said, “We should walk, I think.”

Saburo stopped and they dismounted. Ahead lay more woods. Tora realized they were headed for a mountain valley with a lone dwelling. The rain let up a little, and he studied the clouds overhead. “What time is it, do you think?”

Saburo snorted. “No idea. Too many clouds. Must be close to dawn.”

“We won’t get back before daylight then?”

“No. Did you expect to?”

“They’ll wonder.”

“We’ll worry about that later.”

They continued in silence until they reached the wooden building in the valley. It was simple, covered with thatch, and nearly black with age and the wetness of the rain. They were no longer in darkness but in a gray twilight.

Saburo rode up to the door, dismounted, and tied his horse to the railing of the steps.

Tora saw this with surprise. Surely the sohei couldn’t be inside.

Saburo climbed the steps and knocked at the door that hung crookedly from rusty hinges.

Tora dismounted also, his hand on his sword hilt just in case.

But when the door opened, a very old man appeared on the threshold. He had long white hair and a long white beard and wore a heavy, ragged brown robe over grayish white underclothes that were unidentifiable but all cut off at about knee height. His bare legs were thin and dark from the sun.

A hermit, Tora decided with a smile of relief and tied up his horse.

The hermit peered closely at Saburo and said in a cracked voice, “It’s you again, is it?”

“Yes, grandfather, and I’ve brought my friend as I promised. This is Tora. Tora, this is Master Cricket. ”

Tora joined Saburo. Placing his hands together, he bowed. “Good morning, venerable master. I hope we didn’t wake you.”

The old man took a step closer and brought his face toward Tora’s. “Hmm,” he said, “one of you has good manners. Come inside.”

The inside of the hut-it was hardly more than that, having only two small rooms-was dark, but the old man, who must be nearly blind, went unerringly to a small shelf which held an oil lamp, struck a flint, and lit it. “I don’t need it,” he said. “But you two still have eyes that see. Sit down. There’s some water if you’re thirsty.”

They declined politely. Soaked by the rain, they had no wish for more water, though hot wine would have been welcome.

Saburo explained, “Master Cricket has lived here all his life. Even though his sight is weak, he knows the whole mountain like the back of his hand.”

The old hermit snorted. “He thinks I was born here, a child of the mountain pine and the kami of Oyamakuhi.”

Tora laughed. “Saburo has faith in your wisdom and so do I.” He was not sure why they had come to this old man and waited for Saburo to clarify the matter.

Saburo did not oblige. Instead he asked the hermit, “Are they still there?”

“One left last night. He’s back. Carried a sack.”

Saburo nodded. Silence fell. Then Saburo said, “It’s two against five. We may not get them all. Can you hide somewhere or maybe go away for a day or so?”

Tora began to grasp what was going on. “Where exactly are they?” he asked.

They ignored him. The old man simply said, “I’ve never left this place and I won’t do so now.”

“They’ll know it was you who gave them away. They’re brutal.”

“No.”

“Very well. Thank you, Master Cricket. Let’s go, Tora.”

Outside, day had broken at the mountain top. The clouds were parting and the rising sun touched it with fire. To Tora, it looked truly like what it was: a holy mountain. He touched the amulet around his neck and muttered a prayer. The valley still lay in a blue shadow, its forest wreathed in mist.

“You might keep me informed,” Tora complained. “I’d like to know what I’m getting into. I take it we are to kill all five?”

Saburo nodded. “Kill or disable so they cannot harm the old man. He’s a saint. I’ll not have him on my conscience.”

“You have no sword. Am I to do all the work? And you never answered my question. Where are they?”

“Holed up in a hut used by wood gatherers. It’s farther on in the valley.”

“Hmm. The old man is blind. Can you trust what he says he saw? How do you know it’s them? How do you know there are only five?”

“You’ll find out soon enough. Let’s go!” Saburo untied his horse and climbed on.

Tora controlled himself. His headache was back and put him in bad mood. And truth to tell, he no longer was so sure of himself. He did not want to die, not when Hanae and Yuki were waiting for him. He did not want to do that to them. Or to the master. He sighed and mounted his horse, hoping the god of the mountain was with him this day.

After following the road through more forest for about a mile, Saburo dismounted. “We leave the horses here and walk,” he said, his voice tense.

Tora, his head pounding, was resentful. Why had Saburo not kept him informed? He might have found their hideout, but that did not give him the right to run this show.

After they had led their horses some way into the forest where they were hidden from the track, they tied them to trees.

“What next?” Tora growled. “Or am I to wait for a surprise?”

Saburo shot him a glance. “What? Oh. Sorry. My mind was on how best to handle this.”

Outraged, Tora snapped, “You might have consulted me. Maybe you want to do this alone?”

“Tora, calm down. I was about to tell you.”

Tora glowered, but he listened. Saburo, having learned from Master Cricket that some sohei were living in a wood gatherer’s hut, had reconnoitered and verified that they were the men they wanted. Kojo had been sitting outside, drinking sake.

“There are five? One wounded?” asked Tora.

“Yes. Not badly wounded.”

“Armed?”

“Yes.”

“What do you propose?”

Saburo told him and after some reflection, Tora gave his approval. They started walking.