The Hell Screen (6 page)

The workday was nearing midday, and most officials, clerks, and scribes, hurrying to their homes for their noon rice, cast astonished glances at Akitada’s disreputable appearance. Admitted to the controller’s office only after long negotiations with a shocked clerk, he found one of the senior secretaries still in and explained his errand. The young nobleman, himself dressed impeccably in a freshly stiffened cap and gorgeous robe of figured silk over white silk trousers, wrinkled his nose, took in Akitada’s costume, and raised his eyebrows in astonishment.

“You
are Sugawara?” he said, staring at Akitada. “But you are not expected till the end of the month.”

“I know. I received news of my mother’s illness and rushed ahead by myself. I just arrived and thought it best to report to Their Excellencies as soon as possible.”

“Hmm. Nobody’s here now. I suppose you can leave a note.” The young man rummaged among papers, found a sheet and writing utensils, and pushed them toward Akitada, who dashed off a few lines. When he raised his head, he saw that the young dignitary was still eyeing his clothes suspiciously. Taking the note, the young man read it with a frown, then asked, “Are you pressed for funds, by any chance?”

Interpreting the question correctly, Akitada said stiffly, “Not at all. If you are referring to my attire, I rode ahead of my entourage and did not bring any luggage. I had to make do with some old clothes put away years ago.”

The young noble’s face reddened, then relaxed into a smile of amusement. “Oh. I see. For a moment, I thought you might be someone masquerading as a ranking official. Well, you’d better go back home until you can equip yourself properly. Their Excellencies are very particular about dress. I’ll see to it that they get your message. We’ll send for you when you are needed.”

“Thank you.” Akitada did not return the young man’s smile. The incident would, he was sure, make an amusing tale to pass around among the fellow’s noble friends. Seething with anger, he gave the young man, who undoubtedly outranked him, a mere casual nod and turned on his heel.

He walked home quickly and without looking into people’s faces. The sun shone, but there was a chill in the air. The blue of the sky and the drifts of fallen leaves under his feet had lost their brilliance and seemed merely a sickly pale and dull brown. Far from making a triumphant return after a dangerous and highly successful assignment, he felt he was taking up where he had left off. After all these years he still shrank in embarrassment from what people thought of him. It was as if his mother’s reception had brought back a host of old miseries. In truth, he reminded himself, there was no reason for him to be ashamed. He was no longer poor and he had made a name for himself in the far north. He had handled difficult situations well and he would be of use to the emperor in the future. It was ridiculous that he still cringed before his dying mother and some noble youngster in an expensive robe.

When he got home, Akitada found that his sister Akiko had arrived. She greeted him with a big smile and immediately posed to show off an extremely handsome robe of embroidered silk.

“How do I look?” she cried.

“Wonderful,” he said, and meant it. Akiko had filled out and looked rosy and contented. Her long hair almost reached the floor and shone with care and good health. He looked from her to. Yoshiko. The contrast was painful. Yoshiko was the younger by two years, but her thinness and the plain robe, along with the unattractively tied-up hair, made her look like a middle-aged servant. His heart contracted with pity.

Akiko was still posing, sideways now, stroking her robe down over her belly and arching her back. “Do you really think so?” she asked, her eyes twinkling.

Yoshiko gasped. “Akiko! Are you sure?” she cried.

It took Akitada another moment. “You are expecting a child,” he cried, and went to hug her. “How splendid to hear such happy news on the very day of my return.”

Akiko sat down complacently. “I have known for a while now. Toshikage is beside himself with pride.” She gave Akitada a look. “You knew that he has two grown sons?”

Akitada nodded. He had seen the documents when Akiko’s marriage settlements were being arranged, a process which had frustrated everyone because of the long delays involved in carrying papers between Heian Kyo and the distant province of Echigo.

“Of course, my position was impossible until now. Unless I can produce a son, I have nothing to look forward to but widowhood living on your charity in this house.” She made the fate sound like abject penury. “Toshikage is no longer young. He could die any day. And then everything will go to his sons, and nothing to me.”

Akitada’s jaw dropped at Akiko’s cool analysis of her situation. It told him that her happy looks had nothing to do with marital bliss, a fact she confirmed almost immediately.

“It was not easy,” she said, patting her belly with a sigh. “My husband is willing, but not always able. I am told men lose their desire with age. You cannot imagine what I’ve had to do to keep him coming to my bed.”

Akitada said sharply, “I have no wish to hear such intimate details. And if you felt that way about Toshikage, why did you consent to the marriage? You knew that I would take care of you.

Akiko laughed bitterly. “Oh, yes. But who wants to grow old serving Mother as a target for her ill temper, while going around looking like a common maid? Look at Yoshiko! Anything is better than that! I am Lady Toshikage now, with my own household. I have many beautiful gowns, my rooms are furnished luxuriously, and I have three maids. And now that I bear a child—a son, I think, and with luck the future heir—my position will be permanent.”

Akitada looked at Yoshiko, saw the averted face, the clenched fingers in her lap, and felt anger at Akiko. “Your sister has too much work, with your mother so ill. Your place should have been here to help her,” he said sharply.

Akiko’s eyes grew wide. “With my own house to run? And in my condition?” she cried. “Toshikage would never permit it.”

As if on cue, Akitada’s brother-in-law arrived. He was a corpulent man in his fifties, and he approached smiling widely, until he saw Akitada’s clothes. Then he stopped uncertainly.

Akiko followed his glance. “Heavens, Akitada,” she said, “where did you find those old rags? You look absolutely ridiculous. Toshikage no doubt thinks you’re some itinerant soothsayer.’“

“Not at all!” cried her husband. “I recognized the noble features of my brother-in-law. Pleasure, my dear fellow! Great to be related!” He approached and embraced Akitada, who had risen.

Akitada returned the pleasantries and invited him to sit down. When he congratulated Toshikage on his imminent fatherhood, his brother-in-law smiled even more widely and cast an adoring look at Akiko, who simpered in return.

“Lovely girl, your sister,” he told Akitada, “and now she’s made me doubly happy at my advanced age. I tell you, I feel quite young again.” He laughed until his belly shook and clapped both hands on his pudgy thighs. “We are to have little children running around the house again! It will be wonderful.”

Akitada began to like the man. As a proud father himself, he soon involved Toshikage in cheerful discussions of children’s games and antics. Seeing the ice thus broken, the sisters withdrew, and Akitada sent for wine and pickles. In due course, he turned the conversation to news and gossip about the government. At first Akitada had only a vague sense that the subject depressed his brother-in-law. But Toshikage became increasingly ill at ease, fidgeting nervously, sighing, and making several false starts to convey some information.

“Is there anything the matter, Brother?” Akitada finally asked.

Toshikage gave him a frightened glance. “Er, y-yes,” he stuttered, “as a matter of fact, well, there is something ... that is, I could use some advice....” He paused and fidgeted some more.

Akitada was becoming seriously alarmed. “Please speak what is on your mind, Elder Brother,” he said, using the respectful form of address for an older blood relation, to encourage Toshikage.

Toshikage looked grateful. “Yes. Thank you, Akitada. I will. After all, this is a family affair, since it also affects Akiko and our unborn child. Er, well, there has been trouble in my department. Some false stories are being told about me.” He gulped and gave Akitada a pleading look. “They are quite untrue, I assure you. But I am afraid—” He broke off and raised his hands, palms up, in a gesture of helplessness.

Akitada’s heart fell. “What stories?” he asked bluntly.

His brother-in-law looked down at his clenched hands. “That I have... privately enriched myself with, er, objects belonging to the Imperial Treasury.”

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