The Crane Pavillion Read online

  Genba meant he was the only adult male of the household present and could not leave. Tora was on his own. He asked, “Did he come home after seeing us?”

  “Yes. He changed clothes and sent for Hanae. She says he asked about her dancing master. He was trying to get you and Saburo out of jail. But he’s been gone a long time now. There was a storm.”

  Tora bit his lip. “He was looking for Kanemoto. I don’t like this at all.” He looked up at the sky. It was invisible in the fog but seemed lighter. It must be near dawn. “I’m going to look for him,” Tora said, and made for his house.

  “Wait,” cried Genba. “You shouldn’t go alone.”

  “I’ll be fine. I think I know where the master is.”

  Hanae woke from her sleep as he rummaged in his clothes trunk. “Tora?” She scrambled out of her bedding to fling her arms around him. “Did the master make them release you? And Saburo, too?”

  Tora hugged his wife briefly. “No. Kobe let me out. The master seems to be lost. I’ve got to find him.” He bent to the trunk and brought out two swords. The larger one he strapped around his waist and the short one he pushed through his belt.

  Hanae watched this with frightened eyes. “You’ll be careful?” she asked.

  He nodded and walked out.

  Genba waited at the gate. He looked miserable. “I should come with you,” he said again.

  Tora shook his head. “It wouldn’t help.”

  The gate closed behind him. It was still too early for people to be up in this quarter, and the lights in the houses and businesses had been extinguished. The fog was heavier and muffled all sound. Trees and houses appeared like apparitions against the paler gray. Here and there, leaves and branches lay on the ground, scattered by the storm.

  Unlike Akitada, Tora did not waste his time on Ohiya. He felt a sense of urgency, of panic almost. The master and he, they had known each other for too many years not to have formed a bond of brotherhood. They guessed each other’s thoughts and felt the other’s moods. Tora knew something was very badly wrong with his master.

  The willow quarter was still awake, but only barely. Here, too, the fog dimmed lights and softened sounds. A few revelers staggered homeward, and some of the courtesans headed home from houses of assignation. The wine shops were still lit up and raucous song and laughter came from them.

  Tora went to the warden’s office. The constables were still rounding up drunks and the warden was alone except for some prisoners kept behind bamboo bars. They were mostly asleep.

  So was the warden. Tora grabbed his shoulder and shook him awake. “Has Lord Sugawara been here?” he asked.

  The warden blinked, then nodded. “Twice,” he said. “Who are you?”

  “I’m helping the police look into his disappearance. What did he want?”

  The warden blinked. “He’s disappeared? I know nothing about it. The first time he wanted to know about an old dancing master. I sent him to the southern part of the city. When he came back, he made an accusation against a local businessman. I told him to go to the police.”

  Tora eyed the man for as moment and decided there was no point in beating him up. “Where does the courtesan Chiyo live?” he demanded.

  But the warden had enough of him. He was getting angry. “Who the hell are you and why the devil were you shaking me?” he demanded, coming to his feet.

  Tora grabbed him by the neck of his robe and pulled him close. “I want to know what house Chiyo works for. Be quick about it, or else?”

  The man pushed back with a curse, and Tora drew his short sword, placing its point against the warden’s throat. The man’s eyes widened with shock. He realized he was alone, and said, “The Ogiya.”

  Tora lowered the sword and gave the warden a push so that he sat back down on the floor. “Go back to sleep.”

  He found the Ogiya, a large house run by a former courtesan. There the scene repeated itself, except that the owner was still awake, no doubt waiting for her charges to return from their nightly labors. And she offered less resistance when she saw Tora’s face and his swords.

  “She’s not here,” she cried, retreating from his menacing figure. “Gone away. Not living here anymore.”

  “Where then?” roared Tora.

  “Don’t know. She’s been bought out. Gone to live with the man.”

  “What man? Where?”

  She shook her head in a panic. Tora’s hand went to his sword again. She gasped, “Behind the Rokujo Palace.”

  Tora ran out. It was taking too long. Fear settled in his belly, and he ran all the way to the Rokujo Palace. Here more time was wasted as he ran up and down the streets adjoining the palace grounds without seeing anyone to ask.

  As he was rounding a corner and finding himself on Rokujo Avenue again, two men emerged from the next side street. They jogged away fast, shoulders hunched and heads lowered as if they did not want to be recognized. Tora ran down the street they had come from. Some lights had come on here and there. A new day was about to begin. At the last house the gate stood open. Tora walked in and approached the house cautiously, listening. When he rounded a corner, he thought he could hear faint voices and followed the sound. The voices were agitated: a man and a woman. At the back of the house, a light gleamed.

  He was afraid he was wasting more time, but there was something about this place he did not like. And the panic in his belly was greater than ever. Following his instinct, he went closer.

  A joint in the closed shutter let a ray of light escape. It fell across Tora’s path and gleamed on the moist stones at the bottom of the veranda steps.

  He stopped. Someone had left prints on the steps recently. They continued down a path to the back of the property. Abandoning the arguing couple, Tora followed them. He came to a small gate in the wall. Like the front gate, it stood open. Beyond lay a foggy alleyway. Multiple footprints were clearly visible in the muddy ground in front of the gate. Something had happened here. Outside the gate, the tracks turned sharply toward the left. Here something heavy had been dragged through the mud, obscuring some of the footprints. There had been at least three sets of prints before the gate. Tora peered down the alley. The usual objects stood behind houses: refuse barrels, abandoned household goods, a small cart. But up ahead, a dark bundle lay in the middle of the path.

  His heart in his throat, Tora ran to it and found the body of a man.

  He knew, even without being able to see clearly in the darkness and fog, and fell to his knees. He felt his master’s body gingerly. He was on his back. His face and hands felt icy cold. The rain had soaked his silk robe, and Tora could not be certain if he felt blood, but his master was not moving and something was clearly very wrong. His heart frozen, he cried, “Sir? Sir, speak to me. Are you all right?”

  A stupid question, and there was no answer.

  He needed lights and help. Bending his face close to his master’s, he tried to detect breathing and failed.

  He was not all right.

  He would never be all right again.

  Overcome with grief, Tora burst into tears. “Amida!” he prayed, “please not this. Not after all he’s been through! Not after all we’ve done together! Take me instead. Oh, dear heaven, no, no, no!”

  Then, among his sobs and prayers, he thought he heard a sound and became silent for a moment, listening intently. Yes, he heard it again, a soft groan.

  “Sir?” he cried, “where are you wounded? I can’t see. It’s too dark here.”

  But there was nothing else.

  “I’ll get help,” he said, getting up. “Don’t move!”

  And that was foolish also, for Akitada was in no shape to move.

  *

  He felt very cold and very tired. Tora’s voice had taken him from a pleasant dream of holding Tamako in his arms again. Soon, very soon, they would be together again. He knew it, felt it in the center of his being. There was surprisingly little pain, but he had realized long since that two deep knife thrusts to his back were event
ually fatal. So it was time, and he did not regret leaving.

  But then Tora had arrived and had wept and grieved, and because he had not wanted to be recalled after starting on his journey, he had tried to speak.

  After Tora left, he attempted to resume his voyage to the other side and found it hard going. Tamako’s image faded quickly when he managed to recall it. Instead, Tora’s face crowded in, and the faces of his children. No, he thought. This is wrong. I should be thinking of Tamako and Yori. They are my family now. I must go with them. With great effort, he remembered his little son, his firstborn, as he had been before his death, all bright eyes and trusting hand thrust into his own. He felt the guilt again of having exposed his child to the disease that had swept through the city. He had been too stubborn to give in to panic. He also recalled that he had been too harsh a father to this child, and that Yori had gone to his death having had few joys in life to balance against the darkness. Yes, he must get to Yori in that other world and make it up to him.

  Then the lights came and voices. And someone grabbed his shoulder and turned him over, and all went black.

  28

  Twilight before the Dark

  They carried him home on a litter. By then the sun had risen and the mist dissipated enough for Tora, who walked beside the litter, to see clearly the white, still face and the traces of blood on his master’s lips. He had seen enough battle casualties to know that things were very bad and was tempted from time to time to make the bearers stop so he could check to see if his master was still alive. But he controlled himself. Getting him home was the most important thing now.

  The bearers were constables from the Sixth Ward. He had also sent someone to the Sugawara family’s physician. Tora hoped he would meet them at the house.

  Genba answered their pounding, gasped, and threw wide the gates. They brought in the litter, hesitated for directions, then followed Tora into the main house.

  In Akitada’s room, Tora unrolled the bedding. “Where’s the doctor?” he snapped at Genba.

  Genba, his eyes wide with shock and his face pale, came to help. “Doctor? How bad is it?”

  “Bad. Go see about getting the doctor here. Send the boy. Tell him to hurry.”

  Tora pushed a bearer aside and put his hands under Akitada’s torso to lift him. “Careful!” he hissed as they laid his master down on his back. Akitada did not open his eyes, but a slight twitch passed across his face.

  “Sorry, sir,” Tora muttered, kneeling beside him.

  The bearers stood around the litter, until Tora looked up. “You can go,” he said, adding belatedly, “Thanks.”

  Then he looked at his hands and saw they were covered with blood.

  The next space of time was among the worst Tora had ever passed. As the morning light made its way into the room, he saw that blood had soaked into the dark silk of his master’s robe. There was too much of it, mostly toward the back, and perhaps the bleeding had not stopped. Tora was afraid to move his master again to see. Where was the cursed doctor?

  The doctor who came was a new man. Their previous physician had died. This one was irritated and only half dressed, having been pulled from his bed by the boy. He bustled in, glanced at the patient and told Tora, “Open those shutters. I need light.”

  After a brief check of Akitada’s pulse and appearance, he asked, “Where’s the wound? I see some blood but no wound.”

  An irrational thought passed through Tora’s mind. Perhaps there was no wound. Perhaps this was someone else’s blood, someone his master had fought with. Common sense rejected it. “Probably in his back,” he said dully.

  “Why didn’t you say so? Help me take his clothes off and turn him over.”

  Genba had tiptoed into the room with the doctor. Together, they undressed Akitada. They were as gentle as they could, removing layers of clothing with shaking hands, and then turning him on his stomach. His back was covered with blood.

  “Water!” barked the doctor.

  Genba ran.

  Meanwhile the doctor probed for wounds. “Knife thrusts,” he muttered. “Two. Maybe more.”

  Genba returned with Hanae, who carried a basin of warm water. It was she who cleaned away the blood.

  The doctor shook his head and tsked. “Only two, but deep. Not much bleeding now, but that may mean it’s all but over.”

  Hanae cried out in protest, and Genba sucked in his breath.

  Tora seized the doctor by the neck of his robe and snarled, “You bastard! You’ve done nothing for him yet. Don’t you dare say it’s over. He’s still breathing. Get busy, and if you don’t do a good job, I’ll personally help you to hell.” He released him with a push.

  The doctor muttered something, but he scurried to his bamboo case. There he unearthed ointments, plasters, bandages, and various herbal medicines. He busied himself with applying a yellow paste to the wounds, then covering them with large plasters. While Tora and Genba held Akitada, he bandaged his torso then indicated that they could lay him down again.

  After cleaning away more blood, Hanae covered their master with a quilt. Then they all looked at the patient.

  “He’s breathing,” said Tora.

  “Barely,” said the doctor spitefully.

  “I wish he’d open his eyes. Is he in pain, do you think?” Hanae asked.

  The doctor growled, “No. He’s already where you cannot feel pain anymore.” Tora clenched his fists and hissed. The doctor scooted away a few steps. “I’ve served noble families for many years,” he said angrily. “It grieves me to find Lord Sugawara like this, but threatening me isn’t going to save his life.”

  Tora looked away. “Just do the best you can,” he muttered.

  “I’m done for the time being. Those packets contain some herbs. If he lives long enough to get the fever, boil them in some water and try to make him swallow the liquid. You can send for me, if there’s a change.”

  And with that, he turned to leave.

  “Your fee, doctor,” cried Hanae.

  “You can send it later.” And he was gone.

  They knelt beside their master without speaking. Genba brushed silent tears from his face. After a while, Hanae said, “The children! I should bring them.”

  They all knew what she meant. Their father was dying, and they had a right to be by his side.

  Tora nodded. “The children first, then the others.”

  *

  The journey into the darkness was very painful. Akitada thought for a while that he had arrived in one of the many hells, the one inhabited by the devils with the long knives. He knew he must run to escape them, but his feet were heavy … so heavy … and he needed sleep. He had not slept for so long and now his eyes would no longer stay open. And so one of the devils caught him and he felt the pain of his knife plunging deep into his back and fell.

  Much later he thought about being in hell. There would be no Tamako there. Nor his small son Yori. He hoped they knew he had tried to reach them, had tried very hard and had failed.

  He had failed them in so many ways.

  Tora’s face appeared before him. He looked angry, as well he might. He had let them all down. Even at the very end. There had been something. Something urgent and important he had had to do. But it was gone. Failed again. He had given them grief instead of joy, poverty instead of comfort, abandonment instead of protection. No wonder they were angry. No wonder they wept. The weeping troubled him a good deal.

  What of his other children? They too would be abandoned, now that he was taking this dark road to a place from which none returned. He had abandoned them just as his own father had abandoned him. No, that wasn’t right. It was he who had abandoned his father. He had chosen Seimei instead. And now he was choosing to be with Seimei in death. We die to repeat our mistakes and sins.

  On grasping this truth, the darkness seized him again.

  *

  The children and the others had left again, and only Tora and Genba remained. They sat beside their master, one on e
ach side, much as if he were a corpse already. Neither man had prayed, though the women had.

  Genba thought of his master’s children, sighed, and shook his head. They had not cried, but their eyes had been filled with pain and fear. It was all happening to them again, first their mother and little brother, and now their father.

  Tora watched him and asked, “What?”

  Genba started. Seeing Tora’s eyes on him, he said, “The children. I cannot bear it. What must they be feeling?” And his tears came again until he covered his face in shame.

  Tora said fiercely, “They are strong like their father. He’ll live. I know he will.”

  Genba sniffed and nodded. “I’m sorry. Shokichi’s pregnant. It makes a man protective,” he said apologetically.

  Tora sighed. “You’d better go and tell Saburo. He has a right to know.”

  Genba nodded and got to his feet.

  But at the jail, they turned him away. Orders from the Superintendent, they said.

  Genba went to Kobe’s office, arriving there the moment Kobe himself got in. He saw Genba, frowned, then paused to give him a second look.

  “Anything wrong?” he asked brusquely.

  Genba was past caring about proper greetings and bows. His voice choking, he said, “The master’s dying. I need to tell Saburo, but the guards turned me away.”

  Kobe stared. “What?”

  Genba sighed and started over, “There’s not much time, I think. Tora sent me. The doctor said—” He stopped for another gulp of air and said, “Tora found the master before daylight this morning. Someone had stabbed him in the back. Twice. He must’ve been lying in that alley all night. The doctor says there’s no hope. He may die any moment.”

  Kobe had turned white. He said to one of his officers, “Go to the jail and bring Saburo. Be quick about it.”

  Genba’s knees started shaking. “Thank you, sir,” he muttered.

  “Sit down and tell me what you know.”

  So Genba did, and then Saburo came, hovering between disbelief and shock. And Genba told the story again as they walked back, Kobe in the middle and Genba and Saburo on either side. Three of Kobe’s police officers followed behind. By the time they reached the Sugawara compound, Kobe knew all about Kanemoto, Phoenix, the secret house near the Rokujo Palace, and their somewhat tenuous connection to the trial of the blind shampoo girl. He made his officers wait on the veranda of the main house and went in to see Akitada.