The Old Men of Omi Page 3

He found that Kunyoshi, for all his advanced age and poor memory had a talent for organization. When he was shown to the large hall that contained the tribunal archives and now also Akitada’s staff and documents brought to Otsu from the imperial archives, he saw that desks had been set up for all the clerks and that each had a particular task. The senior officials in charge of the separate aspects of the case were gathered on the dais, where they would put their heads together to discuss the various problems. These gentlemen were Kono from the Bureau of Buddhism, Aikawa from the Bureau of Taxation, Kanazawa from the Censors Office, and Shiyoda, a recorder for the Council of State. Shiyoda outranked the others, but even he was one step below Akitada in rank. Akitada was to supervise all of these men, and his clerk from the Ministry of Justice was to supervise all of the other clerks. It was a good arrangement, provided all of these people got along and none showed undue favoritism toward either temple. Akitada could have wished none showed any favoritism toward the Buddhist faith and instead put their minds to preserving public lands that would pay taxes. Anything owned by a temple was tax exempt, and therein lay a problem.

  He gathered the papers pertaining to the claims made by Enryaku-ji and carried them to an empty desk. There he rubbed some ink and then began to read, making notes in his tidy script. There was no need for him to do this. His clerk could as easily have done it, but Akitada wanted at least a working knowledge of what the situation was. Having finished with the documents, he returned them to his clerk and collected documentation pertaining to the disputed properties from the local files. The more he studied these papers, the more he became convinced that both temples had rashly and illegally appropriated land belonging to tax-paying individuals. How they had got away with it was not clear. He decided to ask Kosehira when a servant arrived to tell him that a deputation from Enryaku-ji awaited him in the reception hall.

  Akitada sighed and made his way there.

  Three monks awaited him. All seemed to belong to the upper ranks of the order and wore black robes and silk stoles made of colorful patches. They had sandals on their feet and their heads were shaven. Two appeared to be middle-aged and one elderly.

  When he came into the room, they rose to their feet but did not bow. Instead they placed their hands together and inclined their heads slightly.

  One of the middle-aged monks took a step forward. “I think you are Lord Sugawara?”

  Akitada nodded.

  “My name is Kanshin. I’m the prior of Enryaku-ji. With me are Josho, our Venerable Teacher, and Seisan, Master of the Law. We have come on behalf of our superior, Abbot Gyomei, to bid you welcome. It is our hope that you will visit Enryaku-ji as our guest.”

  Akitada smiled. “That is very good of you and Reverence Gyomei. I shall give myself the pleasure at my earliest convenience.”

  It was a very short speech, given an invitation by so illustrious a figure of the faith as the head of Enryaku-ji, and he could see that they were displeased.

  “May we trouble you for a small amount of your time?” Kanshin asked. “We have come a long way.”

  Not so very long, since Enryaku-ji hovered on the mountainside above Otsu, but given the terrain and their elevated status, perhaps it must have seemed so. In any case, Akitada gestured to the dais, where a few cushions awaited important visitors.

  They settled themselves, the oldest with several small groans. Akitada asked, “May I send for refreshments?”

  “Very kind,” nodded Kanshin. “The way was hard and we’re no longer young.”

  Akitada rose again, went to a door and clapped his hands. A servant appeared with commendable speed and was sent for fruit juice and snacks.

  Akitada returned to his place and looked expectant.

  But Kanshin waited also.

  The servant returned with juice and trays of nuts, rice crackers, and dried fruit. The monks sipped sparingly and ignored the food.

  When Akitada had said nothing for a longish spell, Kanshin sighed. “We have been told that His Majesty has sent you and various experts to look into the outrageous claims made by Onjo-ji monks. It is our hope that the strongest steps will be taken against them. They have threatened our people, and in several instances they have driven them off our land and put their own peasants in their place.”

  Akitada smiled. “I’m aware of certain claims by both temples against each other. Rest assured that we will use due diligence in clearing up contested land claims.”

  Silence fell again as they looked at each other. Their faces became more glum. Kanshin said, “There can be no doubt for whose side the decision will fall. We have uncontestable documentation. Our rights have been confirmed by several emperors.”

  “No doubt,” said Akitada, still smiling. “But you see, Onjo-ji seems to be equally well prepared to argue their case. I’m very much afraid you’ll have to be patient while we weigh the various claims. It shouldn’t take too long. And then perhaps I can give myself the pleasure to visit your magnificent temple.” He emptied his cup of juice and waited.

  They bit their lips, or glared, or muttered, but one by one they got up, folded their hands and inclined their heads, then stepped down from the dais and walked out in single file.

  Akitada heaved a sigh of relief, and left also, turning toward the back of the compound. Here he wandered about a while, peering into several small courtyards. Most were empty of vegetation but in one he saw a large earthenware container with a small wisteria tree. The wisteria had buds already. It was a white one, but even so it reminded him of Tamako’s purple wisteria, dead now and a symbol of his greater loss. He went over and bent to the drooping panicles which gave off a hint of the delicious scent. It seemed spicier than that of their purple vine. This plant was still young, or else had been pruned severely to make it fit into a planter, but in the back of his memory rose another image of a lush white wisteria in a walled garden, a plant and a scent that had come to represent another loss.

  Once, only once, he had fallen in love with a woman who was not his wife, and parting from her had been the most painfully wrenching experience. She was Hiroko, Lady Yasugi, a married woman who had come into his life at a time when Tamako had turned against him. In the end, his love had come to nothing though he had offered her marriage. He wondered what had become of Hiroko and her children. It was more than ten years now. Would she be very changed?

  Idle thoughts, born from loneliness. For some reason, this journey was stirring up many painful memories. He shook off his gloom and decided to get his horse and visit the town. Perhaps Chief Takechi would be in and they could renew their acquaintance while he probed for information about the two warring temples.

  ∞

  Otsu had changed. It was a bustling town of substantial buildings, filled with inhabitants who had become wealthy from doing business at the juncture of two major national highways and in the proximity of two great temples. There was also a busy harbor where goods from the northern provinces arrived by boat and either continued via the Seta and Yodo Rivers south or unloaded for the overland journey to the capital. Such business and wealth attracted all sorts of people. Pilgrims arrived daily, itinerant entertainers plied their trade at markets and fairs, prostitution prospered, day laborers abounded, and many members of the great families chose to retire here, either because they had shrewdly invested in Otsu’s businesses or because they wished to end their lives close to the great temples but somewhat removed from court business.

  The last time Akitada had visited, it had been the week of the O-bon festival and some days beyond. The crowds thronging the streets and watching performers had been large and boisterous, but even today there was an atmosphere of celebration. At a shrine he passed, a small fair had attracted families with their children, and it was market day.

  He remembered the way to the warden’s office, but when he reached it, he found it was now an official post station. Leaning down from his horse, he asked one of the men loitering at the gate what had happened to it. The youth pointed down the
street to a large roofed gatehouse.

  Takechi had moved up in the world. His office was now in a substantial hall inside a compound which also held stables and a proper jail.

  Akitada dismounted, turning his horse over to a red-coated constable and asked if Takechi was in.

  He was, and Akitada soon walked into his office, a large room similar to the one occupied by Superintendent Kobe in the capital. Here, as there, the office holder had a large desk for himself and a secondary desk for a scribe, and here, as there, several constables awaited orders.

  Takechi had aged and changed in other ways. Akitada almost did not recognize him. His hair was quite gray by now, and his face more deeply lined. He had trimmed his large mustache into a more fashionable style and wore the uniform of a police officer and the traditional black cap. But when he looked up, frowning and then staring for a moment, his face relaxed into a wide smile of pure pleasure. He rose quickly and came toward Akitada with outstretched hands.

  “My Lord! What a surprise and pleasure!” At the last moment, he dropped his hands and, blushing a little, made Akitada a bow.

  “Thank you, Chief. The pleasure is equally mine. It’s very good to see you again.”

  “Yes, sir. But is something wrong? What brings you?”

  Akitada chuckled. “Nothing at all except a desire to see you again. This is just a friendly visit.”

  Takechi relaxed. “Wonderful!” He turned to the constables and the scribe, saying, “Get started on your assignments right away. We’ll discuss the details later.” They left the room, closing the door behind them.

  “Please don’t let me interrupt your work,” Akitada said, looking after them. “You have risen in the world and must be very busy these days. I’ll be in Otsu for a week or so. We can easily find another time to chat.”

  But Takechi shook his head. “No, no. I have some time. But that doesn’t mean we cannot share a meal another day. I’d like you to be my guest. We have a very good restaurant down at the lake shore. Their noodle soup and seafood dishes are praised throughout the land.”

  “Thank you. I’ll look forward to it. How have you been?”

  Takechi placed a cushion for Akitada and poured them some wine. “I’m very well, as you can see. Just getting on in years. My body expands and my agility lessens. But there are compensations. Both the governor and the local people have honored me with their trust. I enjoy a good income and, as you see, my office is quite resplendent.” He chuckled, then added, “Otherwise I’m afraid I’m just the same old peasant’s son trying to keep his wits together while putting the bad fellows behind bars.”

  “I’m happy to see your success. As I told the governor a little while ago, you have earned that respect. I remember how you stood by me and that poor child when I was universally distrusted and maligned and he would have died at the hands of those monsters.”

  Takechi grinned. “Ah, you should see him now, the young Lord Masuda! It would please you greatly. He’s grown into a fine youngster.”

  “Good! I take it his grandfather is no longer alive?”

  “No. He died a few months later, but he died happy.”

  “And the ladies?”

  “Quite well, both of them. Lady Masuda resides in the mansion, and the younger lady has remarried.”

  Akitada nodded. It was what he would have expected of both. “But I’m keeping you from your work,” he said, emptying his cup. We’ll talk some more when you’re free. I’m staying with the governor and will spend some time at provincial headquarters, looking into legal squabbles between the temples here.”

  Takechi nodded. “Onjo-ji and Enryaku-ji. Yes, a pity that. The local people take sides and we have much trouble keeping them from getting into fights. The monks are stirring it up. But it’s not too bad. Otherwise, things are fairly quiet, except for one death that puzzles me. Come to think of it, you may know the dead man. His name is Nakano. He was a judge when you were here.”

  “Nakano? Dear me, yes. The man confiscated all the gold I had brought with me to buy out that child. He would have sentenced me to hard labor if he hadn’t learned who I was. And he returned my gold very grudgingly.”

  Takechi nodded. “Yes, that’s pretty well in character. In any case, it may be a natural death—he was an old man— but I don’t quite like the look of things. Would you be at all interested in joining me when I have a look at the body?”

  Akitada raised his hands. “Judge Nakano is in very good hands. I’m here to deal with the temple case and have a brief vacation. I’m looking forward to some hunting or fishing.”

  Takechi nodded. “Yes, of course. Forgive me, sir. I had no right. Especially when I’d heard about your lady’s death. Please accept my condolences.”

  Akitada thanked him and fled. He knew he was fleeing from his grief and his memories and was ashamed, for Takechi was a good man, and at one time he would have enjoyed working with him.

  Chapter Five

  Tora Meets the Sohei

  Tora was whistling again. Sometimes things worked out perfectly. His master had looked rested and pleased to be with his best friend, and he, Tora, had been given a day off to have a good time in a place that promised all manner of entertainment.

  To make things perfect, he had found a friend. Having taken the opportunity to study the workings of the provincial headquarters, he had paid a visit to the provincial guard, introducing himself as Lieutenant Sashima, formerly commander of the Chikuzen guard. The local commander, a native son belonging to provincial gentry, turned out to be haughty and short with him. Tora decided the fellow felt threatened and became reserved himself. The soldiers were decent enough, but that was probably due to their sergeant, a cheerful older man with twinkling eyes and a ready laugh.

  When Tora mentioned that he planned to have a look at the town, Sergeant Okura offered to join him, since he had some business to attend to in the harbor area.

  Okura lost no time apologizing for his commander. “He’s a dry old stick,” he said, “but fair enough. We have to put up with the local gentry who snap up all the best jobs in a province. This one at least tries.”

  Tora nodded wisely and told the tale of their arrival in Chikuzen and his confrontations with the police captain. Okura volunteered that his own background was the army. Tora responded by calling him “Comrade” and asking where he had served.

  “In the north. Horrible snowfall,” said Okura.

  “Tell me about it. My master was governor of Echigo a few years back. Another miserable assignment. We were attacked by the local warlord.”

  Okura stopped and goggled at him. “You don’t say? When was that?

  “More than fifteen years ago. Time flies.”

  “The Uesugi affair! Brother, we must talk more!” They had reached the harbor area and Okura pointed to a large wine shop. “We’ll have a few cups there after I take care of this business. Give me half an hour. It seems we have much to talk about.”

  Tora laughed. He liked the idea and Okura himself. “Take your time. I’ll watch the boats.”

  Okura headed for the harbor master’s office, and Tora wandered along the waterside.

  Otsu’s harbor was large like those of Naniwa and Hakata, and yet very different. All three were busy, but while large ocean-going ships docked in Hakata and Naniwa, traffic on Biwa Lake consisted of huge numbers of smaller boats carrying anything from lumber and tax goods to passengers who by-passed travel by road for a leisurely boat voyage.

  Tora strolled about, attracting curious stares because of his silk-laced half armor and sword. The unloading of barges and boats was done by laborers wearing only loincloths and bandanas tied around their heads. They were cheerful enough on this pleasant spring morning, and Tora smiled at some of the crude jokes they passed back and forth when two slatternly women sauntered past. The women gave back as good as they got.

  The amount and types of materials unloaded and reloaded for the land trip to the capital amazed him. He expected the rice bales from t
he Northern provinces; these were stacked into huge piles by a steady stream of the half-naked bearers. Elsewhere barrels of oil awaited transport, as did huge sacks of silk floss and rolls of fabric. But there were also many horses, and large containers of paper, lacquer ware and clay utensils, as well as all sorts of food stuffs. The capital absorbed it all and asked for more.

  When he decided it was time to meet Okura and was about to turn back, he noticed a disturbance near one of the larger boats. The steady line of bearers walking down the gangway with their burden of rice bales had come to a halt and a group of people seemed to be struggling and shouting on the quay. Tora investigated. To his surprise, he saw several armed monks like the ones they had seen earlier on their journey. They seemed engaged in a threatening argument with some people.

  As he got closer, he counted four sohei, and three were armed with naginata, those long handled halberds with sword blades at their ends. The fourth had a sword. All were big men, wearing the usual black armor and white headgear. They had seized one of the laborers who struggled in their grip. Two men, who appeared to be the harbor master and his clerk, objected to this. The harbor master was shaking his fist angrily. “Let him go and stay away from our workers,” he shouted. “There are laws around here!”

  The monks laughed. One said, “The laws are ours. And so is this man.”

  The laborer cried, “I’m a free man. I’m a free peasant. They drove me off my land. Help me!”

  One of the sohei who had a grip on him, snarled, “Shut up, you dog!” and shook him. The other brute punched him viciously in the side. The laborer sagged to his knees and vomited.

  Tora clenched his fists and was about to intercede when the clerk in his sober, dark gown and black cap said sharply, “Stop that! He told the truth. He came to us and proved he was free. I signed him on. He’s an honest man who has served in the northern army. You’ve got the wrong man.”

  The monk who had punched the worker laughed. “If he’s a soldier, he’ll get to fight again.” He turned to the laborer. “Tell them! You know what’s good for you, don’t you, fellow? You’ve got a family, haven’t you? What’s to become of them if you don’t obey the temple?”