The Fires of the Gods

by I. J. Parker

  ‘There’s a rice merchant called Watanabe in the Fifth Ward. He’s been paying those kids to set the fires. Jirokichi thinks he’s working for someone in the government.’

  ‘A rice merchant setting fires? It sounds far-fetched.’

  ‘Jirokichi was in his house and watched him pay off the three creeps who run the gang. Takeo was one of them. They caught Jirokichi leaving. That’s why they tortured him, to find out what he knew.’

  Akitada was even more doubtful about this news. ‘Did they actually talk about setting fires?’

  ‘Umm, no. Not in so many words. But you can see—’

  ‘You’re accepting the word of a thief. If he told the truth, he would have been dead by now. It’s just a bunch of hoodlums terrorizing merchants and tormenting the weak.’

  Tora snapped, ‘Well, they tried to kill him. Maybe they couldn’t find his hideout. I couldn’t.’ He took a deep breath. ‘All right, don’t believe me. I’ll tell Kobe myself. I think he’ll listen.’ He turned on his heel and stalked away.

  Muttering under his breath about Tora’s manners, Akitada went to check on his family. Tamako was nursing the baby, and Hanae sat near her. She was feeding Yuki small bits of melon with a pair of chopsticks. They looked calm and happy.

  ‘There you are,’ said Tamako with a smile. ‘Please forgive my not rising to make you a proper bow.’

  She was teasing. They had both become very casual about such conventions between husband and wife. In fact, they behaved almost like equals these days. He liked that.

  He went to sit next to her, peering at his daughter’s rosy face. That small and tender dark head against Tamako’s white breast was to his mind one of the most perfect things of his world. He reached out a finger to caress his daughter’s silken hair and let it stray to Tamako’s warm skin. ‘I will hold you to proper protocol later, wife,’ he murmured. ‘You mustn’t think that you can forget your duty to your husband because you’re a mother again.’ Tamako blushed and bent her face more closely to the baby’s.

  ‘Should I leave?’ Hanae asked, eyeing Akitada with raised brows.

  They said ‘no’ together. Tamako still looked embarrassed, even though she smiled, and he wished he could take his words back.

  He desired his wife more than ever, but it was too soon. Besides, he would not be able to come to her bed tonight anyway.

  He left the women and went to discuss the arrangements with his retainers. In the morning, Genba would go to hire sedan chairs. Seimei and Tora would accompany the women and children to his sister Akiko.

  Tora protested immediately.

  Akitada said, ‘Your arm is not healed enough for you to use your sword.’

  Tora glared. ‘I’m not useless,’ he snapped.

  Akitada tried to soothe his anger. ‘Someone has to guard the women on the journey.’

  ‘Very well, but I’ll return as soon as they are settled.’ Seimei cleared his throat. ‘I’d like to stay also, sir.’

  Akitada threw up his hands. ‘Then who will look after my family?’

  Seimei bowed his head and agreed to travel with the women.

  Next, they considered how best to guard the house during the night. Only one of the buildings was close enough to the wall so that firebrands could be thrown on to the roof. That was the small house Tora and Hanae occupied. Since the front courtyard and the gate could be watched from there, Seimei would be installed on its porch with a small gong by his side to give an alarm. Akitada and Genba would patrol the rest of the property continuously during the night hours. Tora, who could not be expected to use his sword arm yet, would sit on the ridge of the stable roof to watch the street in front of the residence and the rest of the compound.

  Akitada was frustrated that there was no word from Kobe. They could only hope that the night would remain quiet. After that, the women and children would be in a safe place. He inspected the stores of water and sand, and found them inadequate, but there was nothing he could do about that. Perhaps the good soaking from the rain would slow a fire down.

  They managed to keep their worries from the women. Akitada shared his evening meal with Tamako and mentioned casually that he wanted to do some work on their accounts and would sleep in his study.

  By the end of the hour of the boar, the household had retired. It was fully dark outside, and the lights inside the house had been extinguished. Akitada and Genba took turns walking the grounds. Because of the overcast skies, the darkness was intense.

  Akitada finished the first watch and was relieved by Genba. Sitting down beside Seimei, he said softly, ‘I’m very sorry for putting you and the others through this. You must be tired. Why don’t you go to bed? The three of us can manage.’

  ‘The old need little sleep, sir.’

  Seimei sounded alert, and Akitada was grateful for the company. He leaned back against the porch railing, looking up at the dark sky and the even blacker outlines of trees and roofs. ‘Do you think that murder can ever be a moral option for a man? That it would be not only cowardly but also wrong to go on living without killing?’

  After a moment, Seimei’s voice came from the darkness. ‘Master K’ung Fu-tzu says, “To see what is right and not do it is cowardly.” Do you plan to kill someone, sir?’

  ‘No. But I have met such a man: a man who has killed. It troubles me, and I wonder what to do.’

  ‘Ah. When a frightened bird hides in his sleeve, even the hunter does not kill it. You feel pity for this murderer. That is like you, sir.’

  ‘But what shall I do, old friend? If I act the way I have been taught by my ancestors, and by the rules of the ancients and by the law I must serve, I will bring tragedy to the innocent along with the guilty. What does your Master K’ung Fu-tzu have to say about that?’

  Seimei chuckled softly. ‘They say the master was quite free of words like “shall”, “must”… or “I”.’

  ‘Lucky man!’

  They fell silent. Akitada thought about Fuhito. Something nagged at him: something that did not fit, was still not explained. From the far distance came the sound of the palace bell marking the next hour. If they came tonight, it would be soon. Restlessly, he got up to check Tamako’s pavilion. She had left its doors open to the coolness of the night breeze. He wanted to close them, but was afraid to wake her. Instead, he went to sit on her veranda steps and listened to the night sounds and his daughter’s soft mewling in her sleep.

  He thought he heard Genba’s step at one point. A little later, there were the sibilant sounds of a whispered exchange. Who was he talking to?

  The whispering troubled him enough to get up and check. He found nothing and returned to Seimei. After a while, Genba emerged from the darkness like a large shadow.

  ‘Nothing so far, sir,’ he muttered, sitting down.

  ‘Did you talk to someone just now?’ Akitada asked.

  ‘No. You said “no talking”.’ Genba sounded astonished.

  ‘I thought I heard whispering.’

  Genba got to his feet again. ‘Where? I’ll go have a look.’

  ‘No, you rest. I’ve already checked. I must have imagined it.’

  Akitada started his second round. He trod the familiar paths of his garden and listened for unusual sounds, but heard nothing. The same silence prevailed in the front courtyard and behind the stable. Only the restless moving of the horses could be heard. Akitada climbed the ladder and raised his face above the roof edge. Tora crouched near the ridge, his head lifted slightly. When he recognized Akitada, he shifted closer.

  ‘All’s quiet, sir,’ he hissed.

  ‘Good.’ Akitada climbed back down and resumed his circuit. He hoped Tora did not think he was checking up on him. A moment later, he passed behind Tora’s house and thought he smelled burning again. But the odor was very faint; probably a remnant of last night’s cooking fire.

  Near Tamako’s pavilion he heard a rustling in the shrubbery and seized his sword, but it turned out to be the neighbor’s cat. He chased it to the
wall and saw it momentarily outlined against the faintly lighter sky before it dropped down. Suddenly, the night seemed full of unfamiliar noises. He peered up to the top of the wall again. There was a slight reddish tinge in the sky towards the west. He decided to climb up to Tora’s rooftop again to get a better view of the city.

  But as he retraced his steps, Tora’s warning shout came, and a moment later Seimei’s gong sounded. He broke into a run and heard another cry – this time from behind him, from Tamako’s pavilion.

  A woman’s scream.

  Seized with terror, he turned back, flew up the steps to the veranda, and burst into Tamako’s room, cursing the fact that he had not made sure her doors were locked. It was pitch dark. The baby whimpered and someone sobbed. Tamako? A paler shape moved in the room.

  A young male voice, filled with hate, said, ‘Don’t come any closer or they die.’

  Akitada froze. He still could not see, but the baby’s whimper turned into a wail, and Tamako’s anguished crying filled the darkness. He was seized with a helpless rage. He heard sounds of struggle and the man’s curse and moved towards them, afraid that his action was all wrong, that it was exactly what their attacker had expected and would repay with death, but there was no alternative. Death had always been part of the plan.

  He held the sword close to his body for fear of hurting his wife or child. Groping forward with his free hand, he touched Tamako’s silky hair (a deeper darkness against her pale under-gown) and grasped her shoulder to pull her away and to the side. She cried out, ‘He has Yasuko.’

  The dark shape of their attacker moved farther away. ‘Yeah, I’ve got the kid – so stay away, dog official.’

  Yasuko’s crying became a heart-wrenching bawling at the top of her small lungs.

  ‘Light a lamp,’ Akitada called out to Tamako. Then, forcing himself to speak calmly, he said, ‘Don’t hurt her. She’s only just been born. Who are you?’

  ‘None of your business.’

  Behind Akitada, light sprang up. He saw a skinny youth in a bright red jacket, his back against the wall, a knife in one hand, and the bawling child pressed against his chest with the other.

  ‘No closer,’ he hissed and put the knife’s point against the baby’s neck.

  Tamako pleaded, ‘Please, please, please…’

  Akitada clenched the sword to his side. ‘You’re Takeo,’ he said, still trying to keep his voice steady. ‘What do you want?’

  When he heard his name, surprise flickered in the other’s eyes. ‘I want the bastard that got my family arrested.’

  ‘Your family tried to kill me.’

  ‘I thought it was you. You know what they do to them in jail? I know. They beat you until your blood soaks through your clothes and you lose consciousness. Then they let the flies and ants feed on you.’

  Yasuko squirmed and bellowed. Akitada kept his eyes on her. Dear heaven, don’t let her be injured. ‘Better than drowning a man in a pit,’ he said.

  Takeo flared up, ‘They didn’t know that. They would’ve let you go after a bit – only, by then the police were all over the place.’ He glanced over at Tamako, who was kneeling on the floor, her hands raised towards the baby. ‘You took my family, and now I’ll take yours… and you get to watch.’ With a cruel smile, he looked down at the squirming child in his arms.

  Akitada saw the knuckles of the hand that held the knife whiten. ‘Wait,’ he cried. ‘Your quarrel is with me. Let them go.’

  Takeo nodded at Akitada’s sword. ‘You think I’m stupid? A knife against a sword? You nobles are all alike. You think we’re nothing. You think we have no brains or courage or fighting skill.’

  ‘Then show me your courage. I’ll throw away my sword and take you and your knife on bare-handed, and I’ll still win,’ Akitada boasted.

  The youth hesitated. Akitada saw the temptation in his eyes and held his breath. Except for the baby’s hiccuping whimpers, the room had gone still.

  Takeo measured him. ‘Throw it out into the garden.’

  ‘First you let them go.’

  ‘No.’

  Tamako got to her feet and took the few steps to Takeo, her hands outstretched for her child.

  Akitada walked to the door of the pavilion. ‘Well?’ he asked. ‘Are you an honorable man?’

  Takeo sneered, ‘Are you?’

  There was nothing to be gained by arguing any longer. Akitada flung the sword away as far as he could. At the same moment, Tamako snatched the baby and rushed to him. He stepped aside to let her pass, and she ran into the garden.

  They were alone now, he and the youth with the wicked-looking blade. Akitada moved to block the doorway and saw Takeo’s face. Yes, he had just been tricked. Letting Tamako escape meant that she would give the alarm. He would have to be quick.

  The cries of ‘fire’ and the sound of the gong still sounded in the distance. He heard the frightened sounds of horses. Tora and Genba had their hands full fighting the fire.

  Takeo came with a shout, the hand with the knife raised, his eyes on Akitada’s throat.

  Akitada could not move aside. His family was in the garden. He had no choice but to meet his attacker and knock the knife aside.

  But the youth was agile and ready for the maneuver. He danced sideways, lowering the knife. When he came again, he slashed upward towards Akitada’s belly. Akitada reacted almost too late. As it was, the knife cut neatly through his sash. It dropped to the floor, and his robe swung open in front, hampering his movements. But it also gave him an idea. He pivoted, swinging the robe wide and forcing Takeo back. Akitada now had enough space to slip the robe off and use it like a whip to lash out at his foe.

  Takeo laughed at this move and skipped nimbly aside. When he rushed him again, Akitada caught the slashing blade in the folds of his robe. A swift kick and a jerk of the robe, and Takeo sprawled disarmed on the floorboards.

  As Akitada snatched up the knife, a woman’s voice shouted outside. His heart skipped. He turned to look, saw a reddish glow of flames from the stable roof, and had his feet pulled from under him.

  The back of Akitada’s head hit the floor and the world turned black. He felt Takeo’s weight on his chest and his hands on his throat. He could not breathe. Struggling for air, he bucked and rolled, found the knife still in his hand and shoved it hard into his attacker.

  The hands around his throat went slack. Akitada pushed Takeo off. They got to their feet together, Akitada coughing and Takeo bent over with both hands pressed against his belly, his face pale in the flickering fire light. Dazed, Akitada looked at the bloody blade in his hand and then back at the youth. Takeo had not moved, but now his knees slowly buckled. The expression on his face changed to surprise. On his knees, he vomited a stream of blood. He tried to stagger up again, but fell and rolled, his body going into spasms. He vomited again – a great fountain of blood all over Tamako’s polished floor – and then lay still.

  Akitada paused only to make sure he was dead, then ran outside, shouting, ‘Tamako?’

  ‘Here.’ She came from underneath the veranda, holding the child. Her eyes were anxious. ‘Are you hurt?’

  ‘No.’ She had stayed close, he thought, when every instinct should have driven her away. The baby was quiet now, and a new fear seized him. ‘The child?’

  ‘She was only frightened.’

  He suddenly felt like laughing out. ‘So was I,’ he said and took them both tenderly in his arms.

  For a moment, Tamako allowed it, then she said, ‘Akitada, the fire. Hanae and Yuki.’

  He released her and took her hand. ‘I’m sure they’re fine. Come. I cannot leave you here.’ He looked around and found his sword, and they walked together towards the fire.

  Tora’s house and the stables were fully aflame. In the firelight and smoke, shadows moved eerily about the buildings.

  ‘The horses,’ Tamako moaned.

  ‘Genba will have got them out,’ Akitada said and hoped he was right.

  At that moment, a figure rus
hed at him. They collided, gasping, and moved apart. In the red light of the flames, Akitada saw the youth Tojiro with a cudgel in his hand. He pushed Tamako behind him and raised his sword.

  ANOTHER CONFESSION

  ‘Don’t, sir,’ Tojiro gasped, stepping back. ‘I tried to help.’

  Akitada said, ‘With a cudgel in your hand?’

  Tojiro looked at his hand and flung the cudgel into the shrubbery. ‘I was afraid the others would try to make trouble.’

  ‘Trouble?’ It was a ridiculous word to use in view of the murderous attack by Takeo and within sight of the hissing flames that the gang had set. Akitada took a step forward and held out his left hand. ‘Take off your belt.’

  Tojiro looked puzzled for a moment, then saw Akitada’s belt-less robe and undid his own, holding it out to Akitada. ‘Please make use of it, sir.’

  Akitada took it. ‘Turn around and put your hands behind your back.’

  ‘Why? What are you going to do? I swear I didn’t mean any harm. I came to help and— Didn’t you get my note?’

  Akitada raised the point of his sword towards the youth’s neck. ‘Turn!’

  Tojiro obeyed. Akitada passed his sword to Tamako and used the belt to tie Tojiro’s hands. ‘You’ll be handed over to the police,’ he said. ‘I’m thoroughly fed up with your antics.’

  When Tojiro turned around, there were tears in his eyes. He said softly, ‘Yes, sir. I expected it. But I didn’t come to set a fire. I came to tell you that it was I who killed my father.’

  For a moment Akitada doubted he had heard right. Another confession? And why would this youth confess to murder, but not to setting fires?

  There was no time to consider the implications now. He took back his sword from Tamako, then grasped Tojiro’s arm roughly and pulled him along towards the courtyard. He had no idea what he would find there and was prepared to shed more blood if any of their attackers remained.

  But peace had returned, even if order was still elusive. Red-coated policemen and neighbors’ servants who had come to help put the fire out milled about. Akitada’s two horses were tied up to the well.