The Masuda Affair (12 page)

Tora looked at her and around the room. She seemed honest. Could Hanae have been confused? He decided not. Hanae was a level-headed girl. He said, ‘No, My Lady. Hanae was very certain about it. I questioned her because I worried for her safety’ He paused and added an explanation for his concern. ‘Hanae is very beautiful and well-known as a dancer and singer in the capital’

The lady’s expression changed, closed, looked weary. ‘I have no information for you,’ she said curtly and turned away to look into the darkness outside. Tora followed her glance, but saw nothing apart from the trees tossing in the wind, the night sky, and the black abyss of thundering waters. He suddenly felt sick.

The servant plucked at Tora’s sleeve. Sadanori’s mother did not acknowledge Tora’s bow, and he left without thanking her.

Outside, he stopped the servant, who was hustling him towards the gate to get rid of him as quickly as possible. ‘Where is your master’s house in the capital?’

‘In the Sanjo quarter, between Muromachi and Karasuma Streets. Everybody knows that.’ The servant was becoming defiant again.

Tora snapped, ‘Not me.’ Then he put his real worry in words. ‘What about other houses? Manors? Farms? Hunting lodges? … Places where he keeps his paramours?’

The servant chuckled richly. ‘Ah, you finally caught on. It won’t do you any good running after her. Take my word for it, she’s made her choice. If she’s as beautiful as you say, she’s long since tasted His Lordship’s favors – if you know what I mean.’

Tora hauled back and put his fist into the leering face with such force that the heavy man’s feet left the ground and he flew across the courtyard. Then he let himself out.

Hoof beats approached as he stepped from the gateway, and two horsemen appeared out of the darkness. They stopped when they saw Tora coming from the gate, sucking his lacerated knuckles.

‘Who are you?’ asked the taller man.

‘None of your business. Get out of my way,’ snarled Tora.

The man moved his horse to bar his way. His companion approached also. ‘Seijiro,’ shouted the tall man.

The fat servant came staggering out through the gate. He was holding his mouth. ‘Master Ishikawa,’ he mumbled, looking up at the taller man. ‘Thank heaven. This man pushed his way in and forced Her Ladyship to see him. Then he beat me when he didn’t get what he came for.’ He took his hand from his face and spat out some blood.

The tall man looked at Tora as if he were a poisonous snake. ‘You! Back inside,’ he snapped.

His companion drew his sword, and this time Tora backed into the courtyard. When he was inside, Seijiro put out his leg and tripped him.

Tora lay on his back on the gravel and looked up at the horsemen. The man called Ishikawa looked familiar.

‘Bring a lantern,’ ordered Ishikawa. He and the other man dismounted and stood looking down at Tora, their swords ready.

Tora sat up. He also had a sword, but hoped to avoid an uneven battle. ‘I was looking for my wife,’ he said. ‘The servant insulted her so I taught him a lesson.’

Neither man responded. Tora started to get to his feet, but the shorter man used his boot to push him down again.

‘Look,’ said Tora, ‘All I wanted was for someone to tell me where Sadanori has taken my wife.’

Ishikawa said, ‘That’s Lord Sadanori to you, scum.’

Seijiro returned with a torch and held it uncomfortably close to Tora’s face.

‘I know you,’ Ishikawa said. ‘By heaven, aren’t you …? Yes, you’re Sugawara’s servant. I remember that silly
mustache. Apparently, you still lack proper respect for your betters. I believe I’ll have you beaten.’

Tora also remembered. ‘That’s Lord Sugawara to you, Ishikawa.’ He tried to get up, but Ishikawa’s companion pushed him down again. This time Seijiro singed his hair with the torch. ‘Hey!’ Tora protested, ‘get that damned thing out of my face.’

The servant sniggered and singed his other temple. Enough was enough. Tired as he was, Tora rolled away, under the legs of one of the horses, and jumped up on the other side. He drew his sword and, keeping the horse between himself and the three men, he said, ‘That’s better. I can see you now, Ishikawa. You’re the student who cheated and was accused of murdering his professor. How did you manage to find work after they expelled you?’

Ishikawa’s face darkened. ‘Why you …’ He took a step, raising his sword. Tora slapped the horse hard on the hind quarters with the flat side of his sword. The animal whinnied and reared. Ishikawa jumped back. ‘I am His Lordship’s steward,’ he snapped. ‘I’ll have you arrested for breaking in and attacking one of our people.’

‘You’d better not.’ It was an empty threat, but as long as Ishikawa believed that Tora still worked for Akitada, he might hesitate to risk a confrontation.

‘What’s this about a wife? What are you really after? Has your master sent you?’

‘What if he did? He talked to your mother in Otsu. She’s the Masudas’ nurse, isn’t she?’ It was what Hanae had meant to be – if it had not been for a lecher who had other plans for her. The thought filled him with a black rage again. He was prepared to kill all three men to find out the truth. He gripped his sword more tightly.

A voice called sharply, ‘Ishikawa.’

Sadanori’s mother stood on the veranda of the main house and looked down at the scene in the courtyard. ‘What is this unseemly noise?’

Ishikawa went to make her a deep bow. ‘I’m very sorry, My Lady. This person forced his way in and attacked Seijiro. We arrived just in time. I’ll have him arrested.’

‘You will do nothing of the kind. He came looking for his wife. Let him go.’ She looked at Tora. ‘Go home and try to forget this night. It was all a mistake. I’m sure your wife will be waiting for you at home.’

Tora did not believe her. What was more, he was convinced that she did not believe it herself. But there was nothing else he could do here, and so he put his sword back in his sash and left.

Trudging down the hill to the bridge, he wondered what Ishikawa was doing here in the middle of the night, but he was too tired, and his mind was a blank except for the thought that he was too late to save Hanae.

In the east, the sky was getting lighter. The night was almost over, but here in the river gorge, the darkness pressed in on him from all sides. Ahead lay the long road back to the capital. The wind wailed as he left the valley. The waters hissed and roared, and the sound echoed from the mountainsides.

A
kitada arrived home safely, a fact that – perversely – irritated him more because it made Tora’s desertion less serious. He fully expected to be met by a contrite Tora, full of explanations and apologies, but Genba informed him that he had stopped only long enough to leave his horse and a dog and had then walked away.

‘Walked away? Did he say where he was going?’ Akitada asked, temper battling against bitterness as he slid awkwardly from the saddle.

Genba shook his head. His massive body communicated distress, from the mournful eyes and sloping shoulders to his nervously shuffling feet. ‘No, only that he was looking for Hanae … Is something the matter with your arm, sir?’

‘An overeager constable used his truncheon on it. I was arrested in Otsu for child stealing.’

‘What?’ Genba’s eyes popped open.

‘Later, Genba. I’m very tired and just want to rest for a while.’

‘Of course, sir. Shall I send for Seimei? To look after your arm?’

‘No.’

Akitada left an unhappy-looking Genba and went directly to his own room. There he took off his sword and outer robe and sat down behind his desk. He was not sure how he had got home or what he was to do with himself now that he was here. The journey had passed without his taking notice of it. His thoughts had chased each other so confusedly that he was only dimly aware of them even now. Some had concerned Tora’s desertion, but most were about the boy and Yori.

He rubbed his sore arm. One by one, he was losing the
things that mattered most. First it had been his wife’s love and support, then his son’s life, and now Tora.

He felt incredibly tired, both physically and mentally. For months now, he had tried to keep despair at bay by working harder. He had volunteered for difficult assignments, and he had put in long hours at the ministry in the hope that work would distract him during his waking hours and that exhaustion would bring him a few hours’ sleep and brief oblivion at night. This strategy had not worked.

Until he met the mute child.

However odd their meeting, for a few brief moments he had felt joy again. The dreadful loneliness had lifted, and the ice that paralyzed his soul had thawed a little. Even now, his heart melted at the memory of those small arms wrapped around his neck and the soft cheek pressed against his.

But he would lose the boy and, when the scandal of his alleged perversion with a small child reached the ears of his enemies, he would lose his position in the ministry.

Seimei broke into his gloomy thoughts with the inevitable tea. ‘Welcome home, sir,’ he said cheerily and looked around the room. ‘Are you alone?’

‘Yes.’

Seimei’s face fell. He looked at Akitada more closely. ‘Is anything wrong?’

Not much point in postponing bad news.

‘If you’re wondering about the boy I had planned to bring home with me, the authorities would not permit it. And Tora seems to have walked out on us. I have no idea where he is and at the moment I don’t care.’

Seimei sat down. ‘Oh, dear. That is not like Tora at all,’ he said, shaking his head and looking at Akitada anxiously. ‘Something is very wrong, sir. I hope you will reconsider. Does Genba know anything?’

‘Ask him yourself. Tora seems to get all the attention here.’ As soon as he said it, Akitada was sorry. He felt resentful and was taking it out on Seimei. Dear heaven, what had happened to him?

‘You look very tired, sir. Drink some of your tea.’

Wine was what Akitada wanted. A great deal of very strong wine to drown his misery. He said, ‘I’m sorry, Seimei. I’m concerned about Tora, but this has not been a very good day for me.’ He reached for his teacup with his left hand and drank.

‘What is wrong with your right arm, sir?’

And that, of course, brought out the whole story of his disastrous visit to Otsu. Seimei got his case of medicines and listened.

Seimei’s ministrations soothed Akitada’s feelings more than they did the pain. Seimei clucked as he searched through his case of powders and ointments. It was not clear if he reacted to the tale of troubles or to the swollen arm, but it did not matter. Someone cared. Mollified, Akitada asked about Tamako.

‘She is visiting your sister, sir.’

Akiko?’ Silly question. Only Akiko, the older of his two younger sisters, lived in the capital. She had married a wealthy, much older nobleman and was the proud mother of a small son. Akitada wondered how Tamako could bear to visit there and be reminded of her own loss, but then he remembered how he had held the lost boy and felt whole again. Perhaps it was the same for Tamako.

Seimei also thought of the boy. After applying a soothing salve to Akitada’s swollen and bruised forearm and wrapping it, he gave Akitada a sharp look. ‘This boy must be very special for you to take such trouble, sir.’

No doubt they all wondered about this. Hardly anyone but Akitada would find him an attractive child, let alone lovable. He was skinny, dirty, and silent – a boy who could not communicate because he was mute, and possibly deaf. But to Akitada he had become special because no one seemed to want him. ‘I think I have grown very fond of the child,’ he said. Only, the child had turned his back on him.

Seimei nodded. ‘I’m sure that is quite natural. The child needed protection, and you needed someone to protect. But such a suggestion of misconduct is really outrageous.’

Akitada correctly took this to refer to the charges brought against him. ‘The charge is ridiculous, but it can do some
real damage if it reaches the right ears. I’m convinced the whole thing is a form of blackmail. The Mimuras want money, a great deal of it, and I refuse to pay them for tormenting the child.’

Seimei refilled his teacup and pursed his lips. ‘I wish Tora were here. He would find a way to snatch the child and bring him here.’

Akitada pointed out that this was what had got him in trouble in the first place.

‘Your lady would be so pleased to have a child in the house again,’ Seimei said wistfully.

That seemed doubtful. Akitada recalled Tamako’s shock when he had proposed adopting the child. No doubt she had felt obliged to acquiesce. They all tried to appease his moods and only managed to irritate him even more. But in any case, Tora was gone, perhaps for good. He asked, ‘Have you ever heard Tora mention a woman called Hanae?’

‘Hanae? I don’t think so, but I may not have listened. Tora is always talking about girls.’

‘Exactly. And the wrong kind, the kind that gets a man into trouble. Why can’t he find a well-brought-up young woman?’

‘It’s a mystery. I’ve tried my best with him. Our Oyuki would have been much more suitable than the loose women in the quarter. But that’s where he spends all his time lately. As they say, the barley at the neighbor’s tastes better to him than the rice at home.’ Seimei expressed his disapproval of Tora’s lifestyle more often, and more sententiously, than anyone else, but now he regarded Akitada very pointedly, as if the proverb had a more personal application.

The list of Tora’s shortcomings would this time – Akitada strongly suspected – be followed by a lecture on his own neglect of Tamako, including a reminder that it was high time he produced more children of his own instead of running around stealing those of other, most unsuitable, people. When Seimei cleared his throat, Akitada said quickly, ‘My arm feels a little better, but I’m very tired. I’ll try to get some sleep. Wake me when Tamako returns. Or Tora, of course.’

Foiled, Seimei left, and Akitada stretched out and tried
to rest. Seimei had stirred up unpleasant thoughts. They all considered him remiss in his responsibilities. He had not visited his wife’s room since their quarrel early in the year. He had neglected the accounts, which had shown poor returns from their farms, and then had left nearly all of his funds in the hands of Judge Nakano. It was not likely that he would get anything back. No doubt, Nakano would bestow most of the gold on the Mimuras and keep the rest for ‘expenses’.