The Crane Pavilion (30 page)

“I’m in your hands, brother.” Akitada smiled at him. He knew he was getting better. His desperate attempt to join Tamako and Yori on the other side had failed. He had not reached the end of the bridge of dreams that spanned the two worlds.

Strangely, this failure no longer pained him. He had seen the faces of his family, had known their joy that he was still with them, and realized he should never have wished for death.

Akiko and Toshikage arrived soon after, happy to find him better. His sister suppressed her joy after the first, uncharacteristically emotional, embrace, and said, “Well, that was a very stupid thing to do. You could have been killed! And then what would have become of our case?”

Toshikage protested, “What a thing to say, Akiko! You must forgive her, Brother. She’s just a silly woman.”

This amused Akitada so much that he chortled.

Akiko had the good sense to see the humor and laugh. “Seriously, Akitada,” she said, “are you feeling better? Tora said something about the doctor being dissatisfied.”

“Tora and I have decided that we need another doctor.”

“But he comes most highly recommended. Fujiwara Moronaga uses him, and he was most helpful when Lady Kumoi fell into fits.”

Akitada grimaced. “More reasons for making a change.”

Her husband said soothingly, “Of course you shall have another doctor, Brother. We’ll find you a good one, one who’s gentle and very, very clever.”

His sister sighed. “Well, never mind. You do sound more like yourself. Contradictory and obstinate.” She settled herself beside him. “I don’t have much time,” she said. “”Toshikage is giving a little party. I’ve promised to see to the refreshments. Though when it comes to men, they don’t want much beyond a supply of good wine and a platter of salted vegetables.”

“Very good wine!” nodded Toshikage. “And that reminds me. I’m on my way to buy that wine, so forgive me if I dash away.”

When her husband had departed, Akiko asked, “Are you up to talking about Lady Ogata?”

He felt surprisingly tolerant of Akiko. Perhaps he had been too hard on her. His sister, for all her interest in high society, was both intelligent and supportive. “Why not?” he said. “Though I haven’t really thought about her at all and I still tire easily.” This last was true, but he mentioned it mainly because it was a perfect excuse for getting rid of her.

“You recall our last conversation?” she asked, giving him an anxious look

“Yes. At your house, and you were on your way to court in a stunning robe.”

She smiled and touched his cheek. “Thank you, Akitada. It was stunning, wasn’t it? I attended the empress that day. Her Majesty looks a good deal thinner since the birth of the child. And much older.” She shook her head.

The empress was several years older than the young emperor, who had initially taken no interest in bedding her. Akiko went on to say that there was already gossip that His Majesty had turned elsewhere, having done his duty.

Akitada, always impatient with court gossip, interrupted her. “You were going to ask them about Lady Ogata.”

She frowned. “You see? You pay no attention to important news. When an emperor discards one female for another, he can set the entire government on its ears. However, I did pick up one piece of interesting gossip and confirmed everything we had found out so far. Secretary Soga’s daughter Sadako married Minamoto Masakane and disappeared from court at the time of his arrest. Until then, she’d been serving as one of the emperor’s handmaidens, having been chosen for the post after the
gosechi
dancing. What do you think of that?”

“Are you suggesting that His Majesty was enamored of her, and that this is what caused Masakane to strike him?”

She smiled and nodded. “Ah, you
have
paid attention. Well, it’s likely that Masakane objected to his new wife finding favor in His Majesty’s eyes.”

Akitada snapped, “That is utterly repulsive. Even emperors should respect other men’s wives.”

Akiko laughed.

“You cannot be suggesting the emperor himself is behind her murder?” her brother protested. “That she was killed because she was an embarrassment?”

“Of course not. Don’t be silly. But if her father had known that the emperor was interested, he could have seen to it that her husband disappeared.”

“Indeed! And so he did!”

Akiko stared at her brother. “The trouble is the story of that attack wasn’t trumped up as a reason to send Masakane into exile. There were witnesses. It really happened.”

Akitada sighed. “You’re right. There was that nun’s robe among her clothes. I thought she had kept it for a pilgrimage, but it seems more likely that Lady Ogata, or Lady Sadako, to use her own name, probably did become a nun when her husband was convicted. It would have been customary and what her father would have wished. But it doesn’t explain the rest of it. Why did she leave the nunnery to live in a shack beside the river?”

“Perhaps she became deranged. From all accounts she loved Masakane madly.”

“Hmm. She didn’t sound deranged from what others said about her. The nun spoke of her deep faith, and Genshin suggested the same thing.”

“Two people who have taken their vows.”

Akitada sighed. “I don’t know how to explain it. And I can’t think. I’m too tired.”

Akiko’s face softened. “Then rest, brother. Maybe I can find out. We’ll solve the mystery tomorrow.” She embraced him and was gone.

Akitada smiled—there were advantages to being wounded—and fell asleep.

32
A Lotus Flower in the Mud

Akitada healed surprisingly fast after this, but he still spent a great deal of time resting and kept standing and walking to the barest minimum. A number of physicians made their appearance, inspected the wounds, and listened to explanations. Most seemed to think his lordship’s survival was due to a miracle, but they agreed that he seemed likely to survive if he did not move too much.

In the end, there was only one doctor left. He was a somewhat rough-looking individual, a warrior in the east in his younger years, and blunt in his speech to the point of rudeness. He stared at the scars a long time, then probed with his fingers, and finally said, “Well, you were lucky.”

Akitada liked him for his plain speech, but he was a little surprised. “Lucky? Surely not. I nearly died.”

“Lucky that only one knife thrust passed through the rib cage. That one fortunately did no serious damage. The other slipped off the shoulder blade and was deflected into the muscles for your arm. And that’s not your sword arm, I think. Lucky again.”

Somewhat irritated that his sufferings were being dismissed as rather minor complaints, Akitada said, “I lost a great deal of blood.”

“Yes,” said the physician, “but no doubt you had some to spare. In any case, you have no need of me. You should get up and start moving about or you’ll end up a cripple from laziness.”

Handing him his fee, Akitada said, “You don’t have much of a bedside manner, you know.”

The other man snorted and picked up his medicine case. “No time for it. I have patients waiting.” And with that he left.

Akitada fell back on his bedding and started to laugh. It hurt, but he felt a great deal better already. It struck him that this man had experience with wounds and was most likely right. He should get up and be about his business.

*

The next day turned out to be rather busy because of visitors. Nakatoshi was the first to arrive. He was overjoyed to find Akitada dressed and sitting up. They shared a cup of wine, and Akitada regaled his friend with the tale of the doctor’s visit.

They laughed together, but Nakatoshi said, “You mustn’t overdo it, you know. People have been known to get up too early only to collapse again.”

Akitada, who had been gritting his teeth against stabs of pain from his back and shoulder, nodded. “I promise to rest frequently, but your visit gives me joy.” He paused. “My family and my friends have given me back my life by their devotion. I have been blessed.”

Nakatoshi was visibly moved and touched Akitada’s hand. “I have some reassuring news,” he said. “In view of your having been at death’s door, several of the most powerful Fujiwaras have been getting nervous. They’ve had prayers said for you in the shrine to your ancestor, and they have cancelled the investigation into your conduct.”

Akitada made a face. “I suppose I should be grateful, but nothing less than an apology and acknowledgment of my service in Kyushu will make me forgive them.”

“I know. It made me angry too, but we must think of the future now that you’re with us again.”

Nakatoshi left soon after to make room for Akitada’s brother-in-law. He brought the same news and a message from Akiko that she hoped soon to have more information about Lady Ogata.

This did not, however, materialize. Lady Akiko was more frustrated than Akitada, who thought of the crane pavilion murder off and on, but without real interest. It seemed clear enough that Lady Ogata was Sadako, the daughter of Soga Ietada and wife of Minamoto Masakane. Her death must be connected to her past. Masakane’s rash act of slapping an emperor had affected not only the young man but also his wife and the people around her.

His next visitor was Fujiwara Kaneie. He came to report with great satisfaction on a change of heart by the grand minister.

“I’m overjoyed to see you up and around,” he said, after congratulating Akitada on having escaped official censure. “My only regret is that I’m still stuck with that infernal Sakanoue who has been acting as if I didn’t exist. In fact, I’ve had to file a complaint against him. He had the nerve to sign some important papers without consulting me.”

Akitada smiled. “I, too, regret that you’re stuck with him.”

“I wish there were some way to get rid of him, but I have thoroughly irritated my powerful cousins by my repeated protestations.”

“I think you have done so on my account, sir. I’m very grateful for your support and friendship.”

Kaneie blushed. “Not at all, my dear Akitada. I’m in your debt. All I know about the law I learned from you.” He sighed. “It’s all been so unfair!”

“Well, I seem to have been forgiven at any rate.”

On this happier note, Kaneie chatted a little about life at the ministry and then took his leave.

Akitada still spent much time resting. Pain radiated over his entire back if he was sitting or standing for any amount of time, and his left arm hurt down to the fingertips every time he moved it. He was also easily tired, but sleep escaped him. Sometimes, as he lay there, waiting for the pain to subside and sleep to come, he thought of the lady of the crane pavilion. Now that they knew her story, they should be able to put a name to her killer.

He wondered if perhaps Lady Sadako’s father had not really rejected her. But if so, why had she left the nunnery and taken up life beside the Kamo River, living on alms? And why had she later hidden herself away in the Takashina mansion?

Genshin knew her past but protected her secret. Unlike the nun Seikan, Genshin had not questioned her suicide. But both the nun and he had spoken of Sadako as being happy. Genshin had ascribed her contentment to her faith in Buddha. It did not make sense. But since he found no answer, Akitada usually fell asleep.

One day, there was a pleasant surprise. A messenger arrived with a heavy package containing ten gold bars and a bag of silver coins. The Minister of the Right had released Akitada’s accumulated salary for the past six months, plus a rather generous additional payment to cover expenses he had incurred in travelling to Kyushu and furnishing the tribunal there. The money was very welcome, and Akitada spent the day with Saburo, organizing the Sugawara accounts and ordering much needed supplies.

“Saburo,” he said, looking at the neat figures in his account book, “we can afford a tutor for the children. What about that poor schoolmaster of yours?”

Saburo clapped his hands. “Oh, thank you, sir! Tora and I have taken them a bit of money and some food, but they’re still in dire straits. May I go tell them?”

“Yes, but make sure he understands that he comes on trial.”

The schoolmaster came, nearly speechless with hope. Akitada probed his background with some questions, and being satisfied, introduced him to the children. The arrangement proved satisfactory, and Kobe’s tutor returned to his former duties with a present.

In time the pain in Akitada’s back lessened. But about that time, Tora brought some shocking news. “Sir, the superintendent has been dismissed from office.”

“What?”

“They say it was over the case of the blind shampoo girl. The judge filed a complaint.”

Akitada did not know what to say. So it had happened after all. Kobe had warned him that he was in danger. But he had risked his position anyway to do what Akitada had intended. He had interrupted the trial to save an innocent woman. Akitada did not doubt for a moment that Kobe had taken this step because he, Akitada, had been lying at death’s door and there was no one else to finish the job.

“I have incurred a great debt,” he said to Tora. “I wish I knew how to help Kobe. I want to see him. I wonder if I could manage to get on my horse.”

“Absolutely not, sir. You can’t leave the house yet.”

“Well, maybe a chair could be called? Where is Kobe? At his home?”

“I think so. But sir, it’s too soon. Do you want me to take a message?”

In the end, Akitada wrote a letter and Tora delivered it himself. An hour later, Kobe arrived at the Sugawara house.

He looked a little anxious when he entered Akitada’s room. More shocking was the fact that he was no longer in his impressive crimson uniform but wore an ordinary gray silk robe and a small black hat. He could have been any low-level clerk bustling about in one of the many administrative halls at the beck and call of every nobleman and guards officer. The change in clothing diminished him; he looked smaller, older, and less distinguished.

Akitada managed a smile as he gestured to a cushion. “Forgive me for not rising. I’m afraid it still hurts too much to get to my feet and then sit back down.

Kobe sat and smiled back. “I’m very glad to see you’re so much better than I’d been led to believe. Should you be up already?”