Rashomon Gate (10 page)

Akitada's blood rushed to his face. "Oh, no!" he gasped. "I am afraid you misunderstood, Mother. A secondary position is completely out of the question! It would be the gravest insult after what the Hiratas have done for me." Feeling suddenly very angry, he corrected himself pointedly. "For
us
! Please remember that your highly-placed friends are fully aware of the circumstances which link our families!" His voice had become uncharacteristically sharp and his mother blinked.

"You have become very hard, Akitada," she said reproachfully. "I have always had only your own good in mind. The Hiratas can do nothing for your career. You simply must make a good marriage. I had thought of Takeda's daughter or one of the Otomo girls. Their fathers have considerable influence at court."

"I don't care!"

She shook her head sadly. "I know. That has always been the trouble with you. I, on the other hand, have a responsibility to my family. And I bear it alone! Your sisters are still unmarried."

There it was again. The guilt. His sisters' imminent doom was once again held over his head. His mother was fond of painting heart-rending pictures of their ending up as spinster aunts, running errands and nursing children and aged parents like unpaid servants. Should one of them find a husband, he would no doubt be a penniless, rude country bumpkin who would beat her. Or, worst of all, she might linger in misery as third or fourth consort of a nobleman under the cruel rule of the first wife.

He stiffened his back and said firmly, "No, Mother. I will not offer Tamako anything less than the status of first wife."

"Very well," she said with a sniff, and clapped for her maid.

Akitada rose and bowed. His audience was over.

He walked to his morning classes unhappily, thinking of his mother and of changes for which he was not ready. In the future, he would have to consider a wife, and eventually children, in every decision he made. There would be more financial constraints. He was taking on a new family at a time when he was scarcely able to provide for the old one.

He felt immediately guilty for his reluctance and reminded himself how lucky he was to win this slender, intelligent and lovely girl to share his life. And, in fairness, perhaps she, too, would be troubled at the prospect.

Caught up in his uncomfortable reflections, Akitada passed Mibu Road, the turn-off to the university, and absent-mindedly entered the greater imperial enclosure, turning his steps towards the ministry as if he were headed for his usual workplace. It was still early, but already clerks and scribes were rushing past him on their way to their various bureaus and offices. When he realized his mistake, he decided to look in on Seimei.

The old man was crouched over documents, taking rapid notes with his spidery brush strokes. He looked up anxiously, but brightened when he saw Akitada. "Good morning, sir." Rising, he bowed and said, "I found some records of the holdings of Prince Yoakira in the archives of the Bureau of Revenue and am making a copy for you. The papers must be returned before someone asks questions."

"Good man!" Akitada reached for the document and ran his eye over it. "Heavens!" he said. "Such wealth!"

"Yes. Five manors near the capital, one palatial in size, some thirty-five others all over the country, and huge rice acreage in the richest provinces, of which over two hundred acres are tax-exempt. I have made friends with a clerk in the Records Office. In time I may be able to consult the wills on file there."

Akitada nodded, leafing through the documents.

"But sir!" said Seimei, "I have become even more uneasy. Everyone at court is content to let matters rest. Lord Sakanoue, who has laid claim to a large portion of the estate as dowry of his bride, and who was never well liked before, has been received by both the emperor and the chancellor."

Akitada angrily tossed the papers down. "I am not surprised," he said grimly. "He married the granddaughter for gain and is said to be the grandson's guardian. All the more reason to keep on asking questions. Such wealth is a tremendous temptation to an unscrupulous man. It opens doors to him which would otherwise be closed. I want you to find out whatever you can." When he turned to leave, he remembered something else. "Oh, and also ask about a young man called Okura. He placed first in last year's examination, and must have received a good post in the administration."

"Okura? Wasn't that the name of the young gentleman who ran into Tora a few days ago?"

Akitada frowned. "Surely not! That silly fop? But I believe you are right! What an unimpressive figure he makes! Did he say he worked in the Ministry of Ceremonial? Well, see what you can find out about him! He may be connected with Professor Hirata's problem."

Akitada's classes passed uneventfully. He had finally managed to accustom himself to his subject and charges and even enjoyed himself. With the late Prince Yoakira's wealth still fresh in his mind, he had set the class a topic on tax exemptions for members of the imperial family. This had produced some very intelligent and original comments from the students, but none more so than young Minamoto's, who had argued forcefully against the practice.

Still, many of his students showed a woeful lack of accuracy in Chinese. This was not his subject, but Akitada decided to stretch his legs by calling on his colleagues in the Chinese faculty.

He found only Ono and the student Ishikawa in the main hall. Both were grading student papers.

"The master is in the library," Ono informed Akitada, "but he is preparing for his poetry reading and must not be disturbed." He attempted to soften this news by many bows and profuse apologies, twisting his body, rubbing his hands together, and bobbing his head up and down, so that Akitada was forcibly reminded of Oe calling him "squirrel." Ishikawa watched the performance, a sneer on his handsome face.

"No matter," said Akitada. "It is nothing of great importance."

"Genius needs the utmost privacy," Ono insisted. "Perhaps Mr. Ishikawa or I may be of assistance?"

So it was
Mr
. Ishikawa now. Akitada glanced at the young man, who acknowledged his surprise with a raised eyebrow. Turning his back on him, Akitada asked Ono, "Is there some arrangement by which weaker students receive tutoring in Chinese? I am afraid I have discovered some dunces in my class."

"Oh," said Ono, "if they can pay, we can always find a senior student to work with them. Of course, if the student comes from one of the great families, he will have his own tutor already. But I hope you are not too severe? It is only rarely that we have someone as talented as Mr. Ishikawa."

Forced to acknowledge Ishikawa's presence, Akitada remarked to him, "Yes. I have been told that you are favored to win first place in the next examination. My compliments."

"Thank you," Ishikawa said complacently, adding, "Unfortunately that is still many months away."

Irritated by the other's assurance, Akitada nodded, saying, "Quite right! An uncertain business, apparently. I am told that the last favorite did not win after all."

Ono cut in, "Oh, that was a shock, to be sure! But it happens only rarely that a young man produces superior work so suddenly at the last moment. Surely it is not likely to happen this time. Not at all!"

Ishikawa smiled. "I'm not worried," he drawled. "After all, I have worked too hard and for too long a time to miss out now. Oh, no! I am quite certain of success."

Akitada did not like Ishikawa's tone. It was not so much his arrogant certainty that troubled him, as a hint of threat. After a trivial comment about the weather, he left to prepare the next day's lessons.

When Tora arrived with his master's good robe and hat, Akitada was still bent over his notes.

"You'd better change, sir," Tora cried. "It's almost time to leave for the professor's dinner."

"So late already!" Akitada rubbed his eyes and stretched. "Thank you, Tora." Suddenly the prospect of this evening's meeting overwhelmed him. He rose. "Help me out of this gown. And I suppose I had better wash my hands and face. See if you can find some water."

"Shouldn't you go to a barber?" Tora asked.

Akitada ran a hand around his chin. "Why? I never shave before dinner."

Tora grumbled but went for the water.

After Akitada had splashed his face and washed his hands, he patted down his hair before a mirror. Tora stood by holding the robe, his head cocked, watching Akitada with a broad grin. "You do look like a nervous suitor," he pronounced with a chuckle.

Akitada swung around. "How did you know?"

"Oh, it figures. First your lady mother insisted on selecting this robe. Then she had her maid sponge it. Then she mixed some incense and perfumed it personally. She said you're careless with your clothes." Tora chuckled and brought one of the sleeves to his nose. Inhaling deeply, he staggered a bit, cried, "Mmmm!" and rolled up his eyes comically. "The young lady will swoon! I can't wait to see it."

"Don't be ridiculous!" Akitada snapped, snatching the robe away from him. "I am merely going for a dinner at the house of friends. And you are not needed."

"Sorry, sir." Tora grinned broadly. "Lady Sugawara's orders. You are to be accompanied by your servant."

Akitada glared at him, but Tora immediately put on an injured look. "Oh, very well," Akitada said grudgingly, slipping into the gray silk robe and belting it. Tora looked pleased and handed him the tall black hat.

Akitada slapped it on, saying impatiently, "Let's go then!"

Outside he strode out so quickly that Tora had trouble keeping up with him. "Wait," he cried, when Akitada passed through the university gate with flying skirts and his chin in the air. "There's no hurry if you're not going to stop at the barber's first."

Akitada came to a halt. Before him lay the green expanse of the Divine Spring Garden in the evening sunlight. On an impulse he crossed the street.

"Where are you going now?" Tora panted behind him.

"I want to take a quick look at the pavilion where the poetry reading is to be staged tomorrow. It will only take a minute."

But the rustic gate was guarded tonight, and the man barred their way. "I'm very sorry, sir, but the park is closed to the public today and tomorrow," he told Akitada.

"I am one of the professors," said Akitada, "and came to have a look at the preparations."

Eyeing the visitor's finery and his servant, the guard bowed and stepped aside. "In that case, since the gentleman is part of tomorrow's event, I am sure it will be all right."

The park was very beautiful at this time. The setting sun slanted through the branches, gilding the new leaves and spilling liquid gold on the gravel paths. Birds sang, the scent of flowers teased the senses, and the path took mysterious turns among fresh ferns and flowering azaleas. The haunting fragrance in the air reminded Akitada of Tamako and his imminent proposal of marriage. When he and Tora turned a bend, he saw that a gigantic wisteria had grown through a willow, mingling its heavy purple blooms with the pale green curtain of the willow's sweeping boughs. Suddenly his spirits lifted. Surely all would be well. They had been friends too long to make things awkward between them.

The next curve brought them within view of the lake and the emperor's summer pavilion. Akitada stopped to admire the scene. It was one of the prettiest sights in the capital. The fragile red-lacquered balconies and the brilliant blue tiled roof rose against the solid green of the park. Gilded dolphin finials and bells at the ends of the curved eaves sparkled in the rays of the setting sun. As they watched, a breeze stirred the tree tops and raised tiny wavelets of shimmering gold on the blue water.

"Amida!" gasped Tora at Akitada's shoulder. "This is what the gardens of the Western Paradise must be like. That lake is really big. Look at those boats. And there's an island with a temple on it, just like in that picture in your mother's room."

"It
is
pretty," said Akitada, thinking back to his student days when he spent hours fishing on the small island, and attended boating parties with friends on lantern-lit summer evenings. He saw that the preparations for the poetry contest had already begun. The boats were lined up on the shore, ready for tomorrow's guests. The expanse of white sand extending from the steps of the pavilion to the waterline was neatly raked, and on the broad veranda, already plunged into deep shadows, he could make out stacks of dark cushions.

Tora was more interested in the lake. "What are those buildings back there on the far shore?" he asked.

"One is called the eastern fishing pavilion. The other is the waterfall pavilion because next to it an artificial waterfall flows into the lake. There are two more just like them, but you cannot see them from here. On occasion the emperor and his court use all of them for their outings."

"Really?" Tora peered, then plunged into the undergrowth separating them from the lakeshore to get a better look, while Akitada waited, amused, on the path.

Suddenly he heard a cry followed by a colorful string of curses, and then Tora shouted, "Hey! Come here and look at this!"

Akitada entered the shrubbery more cautiously, moving the brambles away from his silk robe. He found Tora bent over the sprawling figure of a young woman in a blue cotton robe. She lay on her side, her arms and legs flung carelessly among the reeds growing from the mud near the water's edge, and she looked very dead.

Akitada stepped carefully around the body on the soggy ground, saw the protruding tongue and purple cast of her skin, and recognized her instantly. She was the girl who had taken lute lessons from Professor Sato, and she had been strangled.

"Some bastard choked her to death," Tora said unnecessarily.

Akitada reached down and touched her cheek. It was soft, still childishly round, but dusted with a light coating of the white powder common among women of the upper classes and prostitutes. The skin felt faintly warm, not yet clammy. When he reached for her arm and moved it, it bent easily. The fingers were limp, skin and nails quite clean except for slight traces of mud where they had rested on the ground.