by I. J. Parker
“No. Kosehira would never do such a thing.” But that would not matter to his enemies. Akitada clutched the documents to his chest. “Forgive me, sir, but I think I should go to him. I hope I can give you more reassuring news when I get back.”
“I don’t think that’s very wise, Akitada.”
Akitada did not wait for any more. He rushed from the minister’s room to his own and flung the documents on the desk, telling his clerk, “Please have these delivered to the appropriate persons.” Then he dashed from the building.
What puzzled him was that Kosehira had not contacted him. That did not bode well. Perhaps he had already been arrested and was under guard somewhere.
Hurrying through the palace grounds, he was soon out of breath and a sharp pain in his side forced him to slow down. Years of paperwork had made him an old man.
He felt miserable and helpless about Kosehira. What could he do in a case of high treason? Guilt for not keeping up with the friend who had stood by him all his life shamed him. Kosehira had defended Akitada in his university days, when the unpopular Sugawara heir had been mocked by the sons of high-ranking nobles. Later, throughout Akitada’s career, whenever trouble had befallen him, he had interceded for him. And what had he done in return? Less than nothing. He had forgotten his friend, or very nearly so. Since the odd memory had invariably brought uncomfortable guilt feelings, he had banished thoughts of Kosehira quickly.
And now Kosehira was in serious trouble.
Fujiwara Kosehira’s residence occupied a large corner in the best quarter of the capital and was impressive enough to have served on two occasions as the temporary home of an empress and a crown prince. Kosehira was generous, and the house had never really been closed during the years he was absent. Akitada, still out of breath, was relieved to find no soldiers at the open gates or in the courtyard. All looked quiet enough in the spring sunshine.
His arrival was noted, however. A servant appeared, bowed, and asked his purpose.
“I understand Lord Kosehira is in residence. Please let him know that Sugawara Akitada has come to see him.”
The servant bowed again and left, Akitada following more slowly. He saw now that there were a few people about. The stables seemed unusually quiet, though. His heart grew heavy again. Surely such a lack of activity was unnatural with Kosehira in residence.
He had reached the steps to the main residence when the servant reappeared, followed by Kosehira himself.
“Akitada,” his friend cried. “I’m so glad to see you. How did you know? It’s very good of you to come so quickly when I’ve only just arrived myself.” The smile was the old Kosehira’s, but there was something drawn and tense about him. His slightly corpulent figure seemed to have shrunk, become less buoyant and bouncy.
Akitada ran up the steps and they embraced. For a moment emotion nearly choked Akitada. He made up for it by clasping Kosehira very tightly to himself. They hugged, laughed a little, and patted backs, then finally parted to study each other’s faces.
Kosehira had lost weight and looked older. There were lines in his face and a few gray hairs in his mustache. Akitada felt a surge of affection for him, stronger perhaps because of having neglected him.
“How is the family?” he asked.
Kosehira chuckled. “Thriving. There seem to be more children running around every year. Mind you, I’m very fond of them all, but I’ve been known to mix up their names. And their mothers.” He rolled his eyes. “Not advisable, my friend. You’re lucky you have only one wife to worry about.”
“You used to urge me to take more.”
“I know. And I love all my ladies. Come in. I think we can get something to eat, but I only just got here.”
The news had spread quickly if Kaneie already knew. That was ominous.
They settled down in Kosehira’s study, which looked dim and smelled unused, but two servants appeared quickly with a brazier of glowing coals and trays with snacks and wine.
Akitada waited until they had left again and Kosehira had poured their wine before saying, “I just heard a strange a story from the minister. I still cannot believe it, but I rushed over so fast that I was out of breath. Is it true? Kaneie thinks you’re in danger of arrest for treason.”
Kosehira made a face. “No, no. There is some confusion. Don’t worry, Akitada. All will be well. I came up to straighten out a few things, that’s all. It’s nothing … or rather, it affects someone else. But drink your wine and let’s catch up on family news. How is your lovely lady? And the little ones?”
Kosehira hardly touched his wine, and Akitada was not at all satisfied, but since his friend seemed eager to hear about Akitada’s new little son—well into his third year by now—he complied. Kosehira then recited the names and ages of his own large brood, his face softening as he recounted their achievements and amusing tricks.
Happy children, thought Akitada, to have such a father who doted on them and had the leisure to spend time with all of them. He never seemed to have enough himself.
When they ran out of family matters, Akitada said, “Kosehira, something is wrong. Will you not tell me about it?”
His friend’s smile faded, and he looked away. “It’s nothing I want you to become involved in, Akitada. The last thing you need is more enemies among those in power.”
Akitada smiled wryly. “You don’t think my reputation is sufficiently good yet to keep me out of trouble?”
Kosehira did not smile. He said bluntly, “No, I don’t. Not for something like this. And I won’t be able to do anything for you.”
Taken aback, Akitada sat silent for a moment, but their long friendship overcame the slight resentment. “I expect you’re right. I’ve relaxed because things have been quiet lately. I like Kaneie, and he likes me, but I tend to forget how dispensable I am and what long memories some people have.”
“Forgive me for speaking harshly, Akitada.” Kosehira reached across to touch his hand. “I don’t want to be the one to bring you more trouble.”
“I know that. But I’ve just been told that you’re involved in some conspiracy with Prince Atsuhira, so there’s no point in keeping things from me. I will try to find out what I can whether you take me into your confidence or not.”
Kosehira sighed. “Akitada, I tell you, this is not for you. Think of your family. And you with a new little son. I would never forgive myself—.”
“Tell me, Kosehira!”
“Did you ever meet the prince?”
“Yes. Here, in your house. I thought him a nice man … in spite of his imperial blood.”
A weak chuckle greeted that. “A very nice man. I got to know him well over the years. He’s married to one of my cousins, the regent’s daughter. Kishi prefers to use her Chinese name, even though Atsuhira is no longer considered for the succession. That will tell you how proud she is. Those girls were all raised to be empresses someday. The disappointment that he didn’t want the succession weighs heavily on her.”
So possibly, Atsuhira’s wife was behind this. Perhaps her aspirations had suggested the plot. Women could be very fierce when they fought for their families. He wondered if there were children.
Kosehira sighed again and went on. “There was an affair. I knew about it because we corresponded. He was very deeply in love and planned to take the young woman to wife. I suspect Kishi found out. In her anger, she must have made some allegations, and that’s why Atsuhira has been charged. I’m involved because of our correspondence. There you have the whole story. There’s no truth to the conspiracy rumor. It’s all due to the fabrication of a passionate woman with enough power to destroy her husband.”
Akitada digested the information. The prince was an inveterate womanizer and clearly it had got him in trouble again. And once again, there was a letter trail. Though this time, Akitada was too late to fix the problem.
He said, “There must be more to it than that. They would not move against him otherwise. He’s the son of the last emperor. What of his father?
Can’t he do something to protect him?”
Kosehira grimaced. “The retired emperor is in ill health and has forsaken the world rather more completely than most. He resides like a hermit in the wilderness of Mount Hiei, hoping for sainthood. Such men have truly abandoned their families.”
“That’s both ridiculous and reprehensible!” snapped Akitada.
His passion brought a slight smile to Kosehira’s drawn face. “Irreverent as always. You know, Akitada, part of your troubles come from the fact that you don’t behave as you ought to. It upsets people.”
“I know. I try to curb my tongue as best I can.” Akitada smiled, then sobered. “What does Atsuhira say? You say you corresponded. Do you recall any comments in his letters to you that could be called treasonous?”
Kosehira did not answer right away. He looked down at his hands folded on his lap. After a long moment, he said, “We would occasionally pass an observation on events. That’s only natural and didn’t mean anything. As for the prince’s reaction to the charges against him, I don’t like betraying a confidence, especially of this kind, but he’s in dire straits and does absolutely nothing to defend himself. Perhaps you can at least advise me how to get through to him.” He gave Akitada a pleading look. “For the past three months he hasn’t answered my letters, and he refuses to see me. His personal servant is frantic. He fears that Atsuhira will take the dark path. He hardly eats and spends hours staring straight ahead with tears pouring down his face. I’m at my wits’ end. I write—no answer. I go to see him—no admittance. I’m turned away from his house like an enemy. I cannot find a single man who was once his friend and will now speak for him or about him. I tell you, Akitada, if it weren’t so infernally dangerous, I would have turned to you long ago.”
“Well, I’m here now. And since the prince’s troubles are also yours, I suppose, they become mine as well. You describe a man who seems to be in mourning. And you mentioned a woman.”
Kosehira nodded. “Very astute of you. Yes. Oh, the affair is still officially a secret, but you’re right. Her death accounts for the fact that he doesn’t seem to care what happens to him.” Kosehira paused in indecision and searched Akitada’s face. Heaving a deep breath, he said, “Perhaps I’ll be forgiven this indiscretion. Atsuhira fell deeply in love with a … er … very highly-placed young woman, and she returned his passion. Apparently, they met secretly in his summer place in the mountains. One day last winter, he got there late and found her gone. She’d left behind her cloak and veiled hat, her box of cosmetics, and her horse.” Kosehira paused to drink some wine.
“Do you mean to tell me that a young gentlewoman rode alone into the mountains to meet her lover? At night? And in winter? I find that somewhat hard to believe.”
“I expect it was still day time. Besides, the lady was unusual. Still, the whole situation is highly reprehensible and very secret. Oh, well, I see I’ll have to be totally frank. Just keep it to yourself. The prince’s beloved was the Lady Masako.”
Akitada’s jaw dropped. Even he, who paid no attention whatsoever to court gossip, knew about Lady Masako, daughter of Minamoto Masaie, lord of Sagami. Her reputation had preceded her to the capital when she arrived to serve the emperor. Her father had raised her like a son. She rode horses and was rumored to wear male clothing. She allegedly had greater skill with bow and arrow or a sword than most men. And she was said to be very beautiful. Her father had intended her to catch the young emperor’s eye. Shocked, Akitada asked, “I recall hearing something about her death.”
“Not the truth. The court suppressed details because of the scandal. They gave out she succumbed to an illness while visiting her aged nurse.”
“What happened?”
“Apparently she threw herself off a cliff near the villa. He found her the next morning. It’s this that has deranged him.”
Akitada frowned. “If he stopped speaking to you, how did you find out?”
Kosehira gave him a fond look. “I was in the capital on provincial business that week. We spent some hours together the very evening it happened and chatted long over wine. That was what made him late that night. I’d never seen him so happy, so excited to see her. The next day, he was a changed man, wild-eyed and shaking, frantic because he didn’t know what to do. I didn’t either, and you were out of town. In the end I went to Kobe. A good man! He handled everything most discreetly.”
This time, astonishment left Akitada speechless. He sat staring at Kosehira, trying to comprehend how a police investigation had been managed without a word getting out.
Kosehira seemed to find nothing remarkable in it, for he continued after tossing down another cup of wine. “Before you get suspicious again, there was never any doubt about it being suicide. She was alone. The old couple, who look after the villa during the winter months, were asleep in their own house, and the prince thinks she was distraught. He told me about her state of mind because I asked him how he found her. She had written him that they could not meet again, and that she could not live without him. They searched for her all night, he and the caretaker. It snowed that night, so it wasn’t until the following morning that he found her. He went to the cliff, half afraid, and looked over. That’s when he saw an odd pile of snow in the creek below and a bit of her blue robe showing. Some animal had disturbed it.” Kosehira shuddered and rubbed a hand over his face. “Horrible! Can you imagine what the poor man must’ve felt? Filled with happiness one day, and losing her the next. What a night he must have spent. And to find her at the bottom of the cliff, all broken.” Kosehira’s voice shook.
Akitada was silent. Yes, it was unimaginable. He thought of Tamako and how he would feel if she killed herself like that, leaving him to find her broken body. No, she would never do that to him. This couple had not been happy lovers before this happened. There must have been a reason for her sudden decision.
He asked, “Is her suicide in some way connected with this charge of conspiracy against His Majesty?”
Kosehira looked surprised. “I don’t see how it could be. She died almost four months ago, long before the present troubles.”
“Perhaps the charges were trumped up in order to punish the prince for seducing one of the emperor’s women and causing her to take her life.”
“Masako wasn’t one of the emperor’s women. His Majesty did not care for her at all. Her reputation of mannishness repelled him.”
“I see.” Akitada pondered this. The story seemed unsatisfactory. “And because the prince is distraught over his lover’s suicide, he refuses to defend himself, and that puts you and others in danger of arrest and punishment?”
Kosehira squirmed uncomfortably. “Well, it may seem that way but, Akitada, you must feel for the man. What an absolutely horrible thing to have happen! It was all I could do to convince him that he wasn’t responsible for her death.”
“Oh? Why did she jump off the cliff?”
Kosehira bit his lip. “Well, umm, she was expecting their child. It would have made a fine scandal for both of them. Maybe someone found out.”
“It’s a shocking story, but I’m not going to let you sacrifice yourself and your family because your good nature keeps you from speaking out. I’ll go see Atsuhira and get him to face the situation. Once we have a clearer account of what the charges are, we can surely clear you.”
“You can’t see him. I tried early this morning. He’s under guard in his palace.”
Akitada grimaced. “You forget that I work in the Ministry of Justice. I’ll get in somehow.”
“No, I won’t let you do that. You’ll lose your position.”
Akitada gave Kosehira a smile. “I owe my career to you. You have interceded for me many times, so you have nothing to say in the matter.” He got to his feet.
Kosehira rose also, looking miserable. “I shouldn’t have told you. You mustn’t, Akitada. Think of Tamako and the children.”
“Tamako would agree with me, and the children, I’m convinced, would do so if they were old en
ough. I’ll be back when I’ve learned more.”
Genba’s Sweetheart
Tora and Saburo were amusing themselves throwing coppers at an old target when Genba left his quarters in the stables and strode quickly across the courtyard.
Saburo whistled.
Tora paused in mid-toss, narrowed his eyes, and called out, “Off to see the girlfriend again? And in a new jacket? How fine you’ve become, brother!” He burst into laughter.
Genba flushed and sent him an angry glance, hurrying toward the gate.
“When may we expect you back?” Tora called. “Or will you spend the whole night in her arms?”
The shouting attracted the attention of the cook and Tamako’s maid, who stood chatting outside the kitchen. Both laughed. Genba dashed the last few steps and slammed the small gate behind him.
Laughter and assorted ribald shouts followed him.
Genba’s resentment faded quickly. He knew he made a ridiculous figure, a man his age, his hair already gray, and his body fat and ungainly. He had never given them occasion to laugh at him before, having conducted himself with the greatest circumspection on his rare forays into the city for the services of a prostitute.
But this was different. This was Ohiro. He thought he must really be in love this time. It was a strange emotion, as unfamiliar and uncomfortable as it was exhilarating. All he knew was that he needed to see her and protect her, that lying with her arms around him was a bliss he had never felt with other women. He wondered what she saw in him. It made him humble.
Ohiro was pretty. She had a wonderful smile that caused dimples in her cheeks. Her eyes were the softest brown he had ever seen. And her body! Oh, she was shapely, with curves that invited exploring. A tiny waist, but oh, such hips. He got warm just thinking about them.
His sweetheart shared a room with another of Tokuzo’s girls. They lived in a poor area on the opposite side of the capital and almost as far south from the Sugawara residence as you could go. Genba walked fast. He wanted to spend as much time as possible with Ohiro. It was her day off. He hoped she would like his new jacket. A passing comment by the master about his threadbare clothing had caused Genba to purchase it. He had begrudged every copper.
