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  The white head nodded. “He likes you, too,” he said, seemingly inconsequentially.

  This was getting them nowhere.Akitada pointed at the paper on the desk. “Your brother wrote this on his deathbed. Forty years ago he used one of your black arrows to murder your father’s young wife and son because he wanted to rid himself of both you and your father’s favorite. But the deed haunted him. I have no doubt he eventually spoke to his son about it, and that Makio kept him a virtual prisoner after that. When your brother felt death approaching, he asked a trusted servant to smuggle paper to him during the banquet Makio gave in my honor. Today I retrieved his confession from the place where the two old men had hidden it.”

  Akitada fell silent.

  Today! Was it still the sameday? The memory of the blood, of the tangled bodies of Makio and Hitomaro rosevividly before his eyes. Hitomaro’s last words had been about his wish to die.He had rushed toward death from the moment they had entered the secret passage.Life was too short for some, and much too long for others. The old man across from him had held the key to a deadly mystery for forty years. It could be argued that all the suffering in this province had been caused by the wrong son seizing power in Takata forty years ago. Now the true heir was sitting across from him, apparently unmoved and unsurprised, not even curious enough to pickup the scroll for which the faithful Hideo had died.

  As if he had read his thoughts,his visitor asked, “What happened to Hideo?”

  Akitada said coldly, “He was tortured and then thrown off the mountain when he would not reveal the hiding place of your brother’s confession. No doubt he would have died in either case,since he knew the truth.”

  To Akitada’s satisfaction, the old man finally reacted. He put a hand over his eyes. “Makio did this?” heasked in a tight voice.

  “Kaibara. I was there that night. Kaibara was the only one who left the banquet at the right time. He was seen going to the old lord’s pavilion by the same two maids who had watched Hideo taking writing paper to your brother earlier.”

  “Ah.” His visitor lowered hishand, and nodded. His face was calm again.

  “However, since Kaibara had not been summoned from your brother’s pavilion, it means almost certainly that he was carrying out Makio’s instructions.”

  The white head nodded. “Yes. I tmay well have been so.”

  Without disguising his contempt, Akitada said, “Many people have died as a consequence of that false accusation, my Lord. You knew it was false, yet you chose to run and hide among the outcasts when you should have faced your troubles and fought for justice.Not doing so has plunged this province and its inhabitants into misery and bloodshed. It cost Hideo his life. And today I lost a friend because of it.”

  The old man looked back at him calmly. “That is very true.”

  “Just now you lectured me about fate,” Akitada cried angrily, “but you understand nothing of duty. If you had done your duty by your people and defended yourself against the charges, fate would have taken a different course. Your religious life with all its sacrifices, your service to the poor, and your sentimental protection of every criminal in the area do not absolve you from the guilt of having abandoned your duty.”

  “When it comes to duty,” saidthe old man with a gentle smile, “I hope that you will think my offense somewhat mitigated by the fact that I found a suitable substitute in you.” He took the arrow and held it up. “I can still bend a bow and hit a target when itis required.”

  Akitada tensed. Of course. How could he have forgotten? This old man was the Uesugi heir who had been a champion archer in his youth. It was he who had killed Kaibara and saved his life that night among the graves. “Yes,” he said. “I should have known it was you.” Miserably, he added, “I suppose I must be grateful, though I cannot take much pleasure in my life at the moment.” Hitomaro’s death would not have happened, if Kaibara had been successful that night.

  “No need to thank me.” The old man took the arrow and put it into his rope belt. “It was not a personal matter. I merely mention it, because you doubted my sense of duty to my people.Fate also follows the dutiful action. Kaibara’s is the only life I have ever taken, and I broke my Buddhist vows when I decided that your life was more valuable to my people than his.” He sighed. “I suppose I must add another sin,the satisfaction of having avenged my old friend Hideo.”

  Suddenly Akitada felt overwhelmed by sadness. So many wasted lives. And now all was over and done with. What remained was the future. He looked at his visitor uncertainly. Even the ravages of decades spent exposed to the harsh elements of the cold north could not altogether hide the grace and charisma of the strange creature across from him. His skin was blackened, and his hair and beard flowed wildly about his shoulders and chest, but his eyes were alive with intelligence. He wore fewer clothes than the poorest beggar and looked more like a goblin than a rational man, but his speech and manners were those of a man born to rank.Moreover, he seemed to have gained the respect, even reverence, of the localpeople.

  With a sigh, Akitada said, “It is late. You must spend the night. We will meet again in the morning to discuss your reinstatement. It will please the people and bring harmony back to the province.”

  The rightful Lord of Takataraised his hand. “No. I am a Buddhist priest and have no desire to resume my title.”

  “What?” Akitada was dumbfounded.

  The old man stroked his beard,smiled, and nodded. “My grandson will do very well instead,” he said complacently.

  “Kaoru?” Akitada opened his mouth to argue, but thought better of it. The capture of Takata manor would have been impossible without that remarkable young man’s ruse, and he had proven his courage and military skill not only in combat but also on the occasion of Boshu’s attack on Hitomaro. Hitomaro!

  “Dew and tears are equally transient,” remarked the old man with a sympathetic nod.

  Akitada flushed. The way the other man seemed to read his mind was uncanny. “It is true that your grandson Kaoru has some superior qualities,” he said stiffly. “I assume it was you who taught him archery and to read and write Chinese? He told me the arrow that killed Kaibara belonged to a dead man and that a Buddhist priest instructed him in Chinese.”

  The proud grandfather chuckled.“A quick learner, that boy! His father did not do as well.”

  And that raised the problem oflegitimacy. Akitada hesitated, then asked bluntly, “You say you are a priest.Did you take one of the outcast women to wife?”

  For the first time, the old manlooked uncomfortable. His dark, leathery hand reached out to the box of shellsand touched it almost apologetically. “No,” he said, “not an outcast, though weboth became untouchable. Masako was a young woman of good family who had thebad karma to be sent to Takata for training in household matters. She becamefond of me. When I had to flee, she followed me into exile. It seemed rightthat I should make her my wife. I took priestly vows after her death.”

  “Ah!” At least she was not themadwoman of the outcast village, the one through whom the gods spoke. That onemust be the mother of the dead son’s wife. “You married in exile? And you had ason soon after?”

  The old man nodded.

  Akitada stared at him. “Goodheavens, man! You were the older son, the heir; you were the pride of theUesugi clan. More importantly, you were innocent of the murders. Why did younot stay and fight for your birthright, for the birthright of your son?

  “Because I was guilty.”

  “No.” Akitada tapped the old lord’s confession on the desk between them. “It was your brother who committed those murders.”

  The priest said sadly, “Poor Maro. We met in the forest one day, you know. At first he didn’t recognize me.I was greatly changed, you see.” He gestured at his clothes and beard. “But I spoke to him, and he fainted. Perhaps he took me for a demon or thought I was seeking vengeance, I don’t know. When I saw what I had done, I went away. They say he went mad after that.”

  “Not mad. He went h
ome and told his son that you were alive. Makio locked him up in the north pavilion.”Akitada reached for the rolled paper and pressed it in the old man’s hand. “Read what your brother wrote before he died,” he urged.

  The priest put the paper back on the desk. “It changes nothing. What is written is of things long past. Only the heart knows all the gains and losses.”

  Baffled, Akitada ran his handt hrough his hair. He was getting drowsy. “I don’t understand,” he complained. “Why should your brother confess to a lie on his deathbed? How could you have been guilty? Nothing makes sense.”

  The yamabushi picked upthe conch shell, and rose. He fastened the conch to his belt, took up his staff, gave a last tender touch to the box on the desk, and said, “Farewell,Governor! You should be able to sleep now.”

  Akitada stumbled to his feet and barred the way. “Wait! You cannot leave like this! I must know the truth.How could I have been so wrong? After all that I learned of your past, bothbefore and after the murder of the young woman and her child, I cannot believe you capable of such a heinous crime.”

  The old man looked at him, and something in the black depths of his eyes made Akitada back away. “All men,”the master said, “are naked under their loin cloths. Remember that. I did not bend my bow nor aim my arrow on that golden autumn afternoon, but they died for my offense. The boy was not my father’s son. He was mine. That is my guilt, and it caused their deaths.” He gestured toward the game on the desk. “That shell game was my gift for her. I ordered it before her death. The chrysanthemums and grasses of our forbidden love. She was named for that flower, and our child was the young green blade of grass growing up in her arms. When my brother found out, he killed both of them-out of respect for our father and for our family honor.”

  That Akitada did not believe,but the enormity of the other man’s tragic transgression and loss left him speechless. He stumbled to his desk and picked up the box. “Here,” he said,offering it.

  The priest raised both hands in refusal. “No.” He smiled a little and said, “I have met your lady and saw that she is with child. When you become downcast again over what cannot be changed,remember: To have her is like having the sun and the moon in your sleeve and holding the universe in your hand. You will need to think of that often in thefuture.”

  Barefoot and bare-headed, his lean black frame covered by the rough hemp and skins, the yamabushi bowed with a nobleman’s grace and softly padded out of the room.

  Akitada sank down on his pillow still holding the box. Weariness overwhelmed him, and he looked toward the bedding Tamako had spread for him in the corner. The blankets looked strangely tangled and lumpy. He put the game down and went to investigate.

  When he peeled back the layers of quilted silk, he uncovered two soft brushes of glossy black hair, each tied with red silk cord, and a small boy’s rosy cheek and silken lashes. Toneo was fast asleep, his round childish hand curled about Akitada’s flute.

  He covered the child again, and looked about the room. Where was he to sleep? Then his eyes fell on the game.

  When he slipped into Tamako’sroom, she was huddled under the bedding. But he knew she was awake and sighed.She sat bolt upright, looking at him, her eyes large and tragic in the light ofhis candle.

  “Tamako?” His voice encompassedall his grief, and guilt, and pain, and utter, utter weariness.

  Wordlessly she reached out tohim, the paleness of her skin touched by the golden candlelight-and he went into her arms.

  HISTORICAL NOTE

  In the eleventh century, Japan was ruled by court nobles under an emperor who was often a minor and retired by the time he reached his thirties. The government was centralized in Heian-Kyo(modern Kyoto) and kept an increasingly tenuous control over the various provinces by assigning court nobles to serve as provincial governors for four years at a time. The more unpleasant assignments were often filled by minor nobles while the actual appointees remained at court and collected part of the stipend.

  Both Japanese culture and political structure were based on those of the Chinese T’ang dynasty, but many of these customs were only loosely followed by this time. Contemporary historical sources pertain mostly to the pursuits of the aristocracy in the capital, and for purposes of this novel considerable license was necessary to project what life was probably like in the more distant provinces.

  The historical province Echigo is the modern Niigata prefecture, known as “Snow Country” because of its unusually long winters and heavy snowfalls. Little is known of its early history. Naoetsu (or Naoenotsu) was near the coast and is listed as the provincial government post in the twelfth century. By that time, Takata was a local stronghold, though the Uesugi family rose to power later. The descriptionof Takata manor is fictional. However, references to the continuous warfare against the Ezo (Ainu) people of the north, the existence of military garrisons in both Echigo and the adjoining Dewa province, and the ascendancy of local hereditary warlords over the appointed governors are all historical facts for the eleventh century.

  References to outcasts require explanation, since Western readers rarely associate either caste or slavery with the Japanese. But from earliest times a separate group of people existed who were shunned by most Japanese and tolerated only for the most menial labors. These outcasts were probably descendants of slaves (taken during wars)or of exiled criminals. More than likely in the northern province of Echigosuch outcasts could have had mixed Ainu and Japanese blood by this time,partially because many exiles were sent there from other parts of the country.

  The issue of exile brings up law enforcement as it was practiced in eleventh century Japan. Originally based on the Chinese system of local wardens, constables, tribunals, and judges, the harsh punishments meted out in China soon became unacceptable to the Japanese because Buddhism forbids the taking of life. Any crime which would have demanded the death penalty was therefore punished by exile with or without hard labor. Criminals were generally arrested either by local constables working under a headman, or by the police (kebiishi), under an officer.

  The police system had been established early in the ninth century in the capital and gradually extended throughout the provinces. As in China, confessions were necessary for conviction, and these could be obtained through flogging.

  Two religions coexisted in Japan: the native Shinto faith, an animistic belief tied to Japanese gods and agricultural matters, and Buddhism, which was imported from China via Korea and dominated the aristocracy and therefore the government. Occasionally the two faiths merge, as in the strange mountain priests, the yamabushi. They are Buddhist ascetics, or hermits, who grow their hair long, practice healing and shamanistic rituals like exorcism, and sometimes marry their female mediums. Shinto is responsible for the belief in spirit possession and many taboos,including those against contact with the dead and directional taboos. Buddhism brought faith in relics and miracles, the concepts of heaven and hell, and the belief in rebirth and karma. Monsters, ghosts, and demons abounded in popular superstitions, and the souls of the dead were thought to dwell among the living for forty-nine days, occasionally haunting their enemies.

  The calendar of ancient Japan is complicated, being based on the Chinese hexagenary cycle. It has named eras,designated periodically and irregularly by the government. Greatly simplified,there were twelve months and four seasons as in the West, but the lunar year begins later (in early spring). A work week lasted six days, started at dawn,and was followed by a day of leisure. By the Chinese system, the day was divided into twelve two-hour segments. Time was kept by official water clocks and announced by guardsmen, watchmen, and temple bells.

  Food and drink in the eleventh century differed little from later times, although tea drinking had not yetbecome a custom. (Tea was known but expensive and used primarily for medicinalpurposes.) The common drink was water or rice wine (sake).

  Meat was not consumed because of Buddhist strictures against the killing of animals, though the nobles did eat the wild fowl t
hey hunted, and everyone ate fish. Generally the wealthy atea diet of rice, fish, and fruit, while the poor and Buddhist monks consumed millet,beans, and vegetables.

  Two plots, the story of the deserter and the murder of the innkeeper, are based on brief accounts in the ancient Chinese collection of famous criminal cases (T’ang-Yin-Pi-Shih,23 and 33). The collection was known in Japan at an early date.

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