by I. J. Parker
“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 enough. 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.
In the western market, he passed a stand selling sweets and stopped to buy a honey-filled rice cake. Ohiro was very fond of them. He liked them too, but seeing her pleasure was much better than tasting the sweet himself. Besides, he must save his money.
The tenement where Ohiro and Shokichi roomed was poorly built and worse maintained even though the rents were very high. It belonged to Tokuzo’s mother, and all of Tokuzo’s women were expected to live there. Genba looked around, saw no one, then knocked three times softly on one of the doors.
She opened immediately and pulled him inside, closing the door very quickly. The girls were not supposed to have male visitors without passing the fees on to Tokuzo.
Genba knew right away that something was wrong. Ohiro kept her face averted.
“What happened, love?” he asked.
She walked away from him and mumbled, “It’s nothing. Please don’t make a fuss.”
He frowned. “Ohiro, turn around.”
When she did not respond, he went after her and took her gently by the shoulders to turn her around. “Amida!” He dropped his hands and stared in shock at her swollen face. One eye was closed and surrounded by red and black bruises, there were traces of blood in her nostrils, and she had a badly cut lip. “He did that to you?” he asked hoarsely. “I’ll kill him!”
“Please, Genba,” she said, her good eye filling with tears.
A faded curtain parted on the inner doorway, and Shokichi came in, a thin girl-almost scrawny, he thought-who moved quickly and laughed a lot. She was not laughing now. “He’s an animal,” she said sharply. “No, I lie. Animals don’t do that to each other. He’s an oni, a true devil. He raped her, too. Beating women gives him a hard-on.”
“Oh, Shokichi, you promised not to tell,” wailed Ohiro.
Genba swallowed down the sickness that rose in his throat. Opening his arms, he drew Ohiro against his wide chest and belly and laid his head on hers. “My love,” he said softly, “you must come with me. I cannot bear it any longer. He’ll kill you next time.”
She gave a small sob and put her arms around his waist. “Just a little longer,” she said. “Be patient, my love.”
He groaned. “How much do we still need?”
She slipped from his embrace and went to a trunk that held her clothes. Opening it, she dug down and brought out a small sandalwood box.
Genba glanced at Shokichi, who flushed and ducked back into the other room. He felt embarrassed, but these girls were so very poor and led such miserable lives that they would do anything to free themselves from Tokuzo’s hold.
Ohiro upended the box on the floor. A small pile of coins, some gold, quite a few silver, and a large number copper, lay on the dirt floor. She crouched down and sorted through them, counting under her breath. Then she looked up, disappointment on her swollen face. “We need another ten pieces of gold,” she said in a small voice.
A fortune.
Genba knelt beside her and helped her put the money back. “I’ll get it,” he said. “Meanwhile, lock your door and don’t go back to work. Maybe tomorrow I can get you.”
“No, no. I have to work tonight, but it will be all right. He always feels sorry for what he did and leaves us alone afterward.”
“Ohiro, please don’t. I cannot bear it… I love you.”
She reached for him, and they embraced. He wanted to kiss her but was afraid of hurting her, so he stroked her back instead. She twitched a little, and he muttered a curse. “Take off your clothes,” he commanded, pulling her up with him.
She giggled weakly and started to undo her sash. He reached for it with impatient fingers, took it off, pulled open her gown, and slipped it off her shoulders. Then he lifted her undergown over her head. She submitted, blushing furiously. Ohiro had a very nice body, with full hips and a small waist.
But instead of admiring and fondling her breasts and pulling her hips toward him, he moved around her and lifted her long hair. She gave a little cry. Turning, she started to reach for his trouser ties, but he stopped her.
“I’ll kill him!” he growled, looking at the red welts that criss-crossed her back. “I’ll kill the filthy bastard.”
Shokichi stuck her head through the door to take a look. She gasped. “Tokuzo did that? Why? What did you do?”
Ohiro snatched up her clothes and covered herself. “You shouldn’t have looked, Genba,” she said. “I wanted you to make love to me. Now you’ve spoiled it.” She burst into tears. “I cooked your favorite food, too. Sea bream with new herbs and fiddleheads. Ohhh!” With a long wail, she cowered down, drew up her knees, and buried her face in her arms.
Genba stood helpless at such a flood of tears. Shokichi went to Ohiro and put her arms around her.
“Look,” she said, glancing up at Genba, “if you really love her, you’ve got to understand what her life’s been like. Her parents died when she was nine, and she went to live with an aunt and uncle. When she was ten, the uncle started raping her. Her aunt found out and sold her to Tokuzo to be rid of her. Ohiro was okay until you came. That’s when she started balking at what customers wanted, and that’s when she got beatings. I bet this thing today happened because Tokuzo found out about you. He thinks she’s been holding back money.”
Ohiro made sounds of protest at this bald telling of her life. She moved away from Shokichi and looked at Genba with swimming eyes. “Don’t hate me, Genba,” she pleaded. “I have to work for him. I’m sorry.”
Genba finally woke from his stupor. He went to kneel beside her. “Ohiro, I love you,” he said. “I think you should run away and hide. I’ll find the money somehow and pay the bastard. Then, when all is settled, you’ll come home with me as my wife.”
Both women gasped at that.
“Your wife?” Ohiro asked, stunned. “You want me to be your wife?”
He nodded, then glanced at Shokichi, who got up.
She said, “I’ll tell the bastard you’ve had the doctor and can’t work. He’ll believe it.” She left, a smile on her face.
They made love. He was gentle so as not to hurt Ohiro, but both felt passionate. Then they ate what Ohiro had cooked, and Genba remembered the sweet he had bought.
Ohiro received it like a jewel. “I’ve never been so happy before, Genba. I love you. Thank you.” She gave him a melting glance.
And after a little while, they made love again.
It was near the middle of the night, the hour of the rat, when Genba left Ohiro. He was worried. Would the master permit him to bring another hungry mouth into the family? He was not Tora, had not served with such distinction, had, in fact, not yet lived down the fact that he had left the house unguarded three years ago when armed men had forced their way in and caused Seimei’s death. And then there was Ohiro. Tora had tried to keep his wife Hanae a secret because she was a singer in the amusement quarter. And now here he was, bringing a prostitute into the family.
And how was he to raise the money? Even if he could borrow the rest of the money to buy Ohiro out, how would he be able to face the man who had done such things to the woman he loved?
At the memory of her bruised face and lacerated back, his anger rose again. Without thinking, he turned his steps toward the amusement quarter and the Sasaya, Tokuzo’s brothel.
It was still well lit, and one of Tokuzo’s bruisers, a man who had once been a wrestler like Genba and who now kept quarrelsome customers in line, stood outside the door with a few of the girls. They looked well-worn already, but greeted Genba with eager cries of welcome. The bruiser gave him a
friendly wave. Genba glared at him and quickly faded into the next dark alley where he collided with another man.
They both grunted. The other man fumbled around in the dark, and Genba realized he might have a knife, that he had surprised a footpad. He carried no money, but he did not relish a knife in the belly, and his pent-up anger over Tokuzo’s assault on Ohiro erupted in a furious attack on the dimly perceived person near him. He roared and lashed out, heard a metallic clinking, then seized an arm and brought the other man into his crushing embrace. He was not an ex-wrestler for nothing. He started to drag the stranger out into the street, to get a good look at him. At this point, the other man twisted suddenly, punched him in the groin, and slipped away when Genba doubled over.
Genba took a minute for the pain to ease, then he left the alley and looked up and down the street. The scene before the Sasaya was the same, and he saw no one who could have been the footpad.
He went back into the alley and searched the ground for the object that had made the clinking sound. He found it quickly near the house wall. It was not a knife but something smaller and far more wicked. Taking it out into the street, he saw it was a thin metal pin, a little less than a foot long and sharpened at one end.
