by I. J. Parker
“Yes, Excellency,” she whispered,twisting her hands in her lap. Akitada bent forward to hear her. “I am worriedabout Toneo. He’s gone.”
ELEVEN
THE MERCHANT SUNADA
Hitomaro found Genba in front of the Temple of the War God, amusing himself by taking onstreet urchins who wished to test their strength against the big wrestler. Hehad removed his bright red quilted jacket and was jumping about in shirt,knee-length pants, and wrapped legs.
“New clothes?” Hitomaro askedsourly. In his present mood, he felt neither admiration nor tolerance for Genba’sunexpected rise to fame among the local people. He regarded Genba’s occupationas a liability that interfered with his job.
Genba chuckled. “Presents frommy fans.” A new contender flung himself at him.
“Stop that and let’s go!”Hitomaro pulled Genba’s sleeve. “There’s work to be done.”
“Of course, brother.” Genbaremoved the clutching arms of a skinny youngster from his massive thigh andswung him high into the air with a shout. The lad screeched with delight, hisfellows waiting hopefully as Genba set him back on the ground. “Practice!” hetold them, waving an admonishing finger, “and eat everything your mother givesyou.”
There was a chorus of protests when he snatched up his red jacket. Hitomaro strode off down the street.
“What’s so urgent?” Genba, in spite of his bulk, caught up easily.
“We have work to do. What news do you have?”
“Not much. I think there’s not much more to be had. The judge is said to be in Sunada’s pay. That’s why his thugs act the way they do. Every time they’re in trouble, Hisamatsu dismisses the charges.”
Hitomaro nodded. “Makes sense.I spent hours at the garrison yesterday, talking to Ogai’s fellow recruits.Goto told the truth about his brother being absent without leave. The punishment is such a cruel caning that some don’t survive, so his disappearance is either involuntary or he’s deserted. I figured you could help me talk to some of the neighbors. People seem to open up to you. We need an unbiased account of that fight between Ogai and Kimura.”
Genba glanced dubiously at Hitomaro’s neat blue robe and official black cap. “You didn’t wear your old clothes.”
“Not much point in it. We’re past that charade.”
Genba gave him a startled glance but said only, “I’ll try my best to help.”
They passed through streets of modest dwellings. It was cold in spite of the sun that reflected blindingly from patches of snow that lingered on roofs and in yards where bare trees made traceries against the pale blue sky. Lines of frozen laundry hung stiffly and icicles dripped from the eaves. A skinny dog sniffed and licked the icy street where a woman had just emptied steaming kitchen slops.
But even on these side streets,business was transacted in the open air. Smoke curled from portable cookers and ovens, and tattered straw matting protected food stalls. These were of considerable interest to Genba, who stopped and peered periodically, much to the ill-concealed irritation of Hitomaro.
“Brother,” Genba finally said with a worried look at his friend’s face, “are you feeling quite well? I would’ve thought you’d be over that beating by now, but you look ill.”
Hitomaro’s “illness” had nothing to do with Boshu but he had no intention of discussing it with anyone.He glared. “Seeing you drooling into every pot since we left the Temple of theWar God would turn anyone’s stomach. Come on. We must be near that fishmonger’splace.”
They turned down a narrow,dirty backstreet. Across from them was a small wineshop. In spite of the cold weather, the owner had placed a rickety table and stools in the street. Three bare-legged laborers perched on them soaking up the feeble rays of the sun and the harsh and potent brew of the establishment.
Genba stopped. “Close enough.Let’s talk to them.”
“How do they stand this cold without shoes or leggings?” asked Hitomaro, shaking his head.
“Used to it. Also, they’re very hairy people hereabouts. Some look more like monkeys than men.” He sniffed theair. “Do you smell fried fish?”
“No time for food. We have workto do.” Hitomaro crossed the street and asked the drinkers, “Anyone here knowKimura? He’s a plasterer and lives around here.”
The three men looked at hisneat blue robe and black cap, then at each other. To a man, they shook theirheads.
Hitomaro frowned. “I don’tbelieve you. This is official business. It concerns a case before the governor.We need Kimura’s testimony.”
The hairy men stared back andshook their heads again.
Genba came and took aprecarious seat on one of the stools. He nodded to the men and called forservice. “Sit down!” he told Hitomaro. “I’m thirsty. Tagging along with you ishard on a man. Wish you were in some other business.” Turning to the three men,he added, “He’s with the tribunal, but he’s not a bad fellow when you get toknow him. Pay no attention to the official manner. I’m Genba, by the way.Wrestler by profession. I’m in the competition this year.”
They broke into excitedchatter, asking about his bouts, feeling his muscles, and offering to pay forhis wine.
“Ho, ho!” laughed Genba. “Iknew I’d like this town. Never met nicer people in my life. But this round’s onme. And if one of you knows where that delicious smell is coming from, I’ll buythe snacks, too.”
Hitomaro sat down with a heavysigh and waited while the owner carried out flasks of wine, and one of theguests disappeared around the corner, returning with a large basket filled withskewers of fried seafood.
While Hitomaro sat, arms foldedacross his chest and a pained expression on his face, Genba and the others ate,drank, exchanged simpleminded jokes and laughed uproariously at them.
Finally, when all the fish wasgone and the flasks were empty, Genba patted his belly and said, “Well, it’stoo bad, but we must be on our way. My friend here has this assignment, and athis rate, it’ll take all day and night to find this Kimura fellow.”
A brief silence ensued. Thenone of the men muttered, “That Goto’s a big liar.”
Hitomaro said quickly, “If youwant to help Kimura, tell us what you know.”
They looked at each otheragain. Then the man who had spoken asked, “How do we know we won’t get introuble?”
“Because I vouch for him,”Genba announced grandly and belched.
“Well…”
“Go ahead. Tell him,” said askinny man who had been very impressed with Genba’s muscles.
The first man said, “Kimura livesright around the corner. I was there when he and Goto’s worthless brother wereshooting dice and got into an argument. Ogai’s a lazy soldier. He picked thefight on purpose. Kimura wouldn’t raise a hand against anybody if he wasn’tforced into it. Ogai kept pushing him against the wall till Kimura pushed back.Then they got into a slugging match. Mind you, Kimura’s no slouch when he getsstarted. He got a black eye, but Ogai lost two teeth. Him”-he pointed to theskinny man-”and me, we stopped the fight and took Kimura home. We know Kimuradoesn’t hold a grudge. He told Ogai he was sorry about the teeth, but thebastard just made a fist and cursed him.”
“What do you mean, Ogai pickedthe fight on purpose?” Hitomaro asked.
“Well, the dice weren’t the realreason. It’s a family thing. Goto has a quarrel with Kimura over a piece ofland. It was Kimura’s father’s land, but the old man couldn’t pay the taxes onit for a few years. When he died, nobody bothered Kimura for the taxes, so heforgot about them. Then, one day, Goto puts up a fence and the argument starts.Goto says Kimura’s father sold the land to him. Kimura says Goto’s a liar, thathis father would never have sold that land, especially not to Goto. He didn’tlike him, and besides he’d had a better offer.”
“That should be easy enough toprove,” Hitomaro said. “Just have Kimura come to the tribunal and file acomplaint against Goto. His Excellency, the governor, will untangle the matterfast enough.”
There was a chorus of angrycurses at that.
Hitomaro opened his mouth toargue, but Genba touched his arm. “Well, thanks for clearing that up,” he said.“We’d better be on our way, but it’s been a real pleasure.” He tossed a handfulof coins on the table. “Have another flask on us, fellows.”
“What do you think?” Genbaasked when they were out of earshot. Hitomaro turned and walked rapidly towardthe tribunal. “Hey, where are you going?”
“I want to pay that bastardChobei a visit.”
“But what about having a talkwith the plasterer first?”
Hitomaro stopped and gloweredat him. “Any fool knows that Kimura will tell the same story. I don’t have timeto waste, but you do as you please.”
Genba’s cheerful face fell. “Whathave I done, brother?” he called after Hitomaro, who was off again. Hitomarodid not answer, and Genba galloped after him and pulled his sleeve. “What’swrong, Hito?” he asked. “Why are you so angry? Has something happened?”
“You’re wasting time on gameswhen the master’s in trouble-and we along with him.”
“Is that what the master said?”
“No, it’s what I say.”
Genba looked unhappy. “Allright. We’ll do it your way.”
They heard the sound of drumsand gongs and the voices of street musicians long before they reached themarket stalls. The market was crammed with crowds of shoppers clustering aroundacrobats and dancers or bargaining with shopkeepers.
“What’s going on?” Hitomaroasked.
“Oh, didn’t you know?” Genbatossed a coin to a vendor and took a steaming paper envelope of roastedchestnuts. “It’s the last market day of the year. The farmers won’t be comingto town again till the snows melt next summer. So everyone’s having a party.Isn’t it nice? Here, have some hot chestnuts. Put them in your sleeves and warmyour hands on them.”
Ignoring the offer, Hitomarosaid, “If Chobei is in this crowd, he’ll be about as easy to find as an ant inan ant hill.” Cursing under his breath, he climbed on an empty basket to peerover the bobbing heads of the crowd. As far as he could see down the mainstreet with its overhanging thatched roofs, people milled, eddying in streamspast stalls and around groups of performers. The steam from a hundred cook potshung in clouds about them, and the noise from laughter, chatter, and snatchesof music was deafening.
He climbed down and found thatGenba had attracted his own audience. A small group stood around him, admiringhis enormous size and bulk and asking questions about the coming match. Menfelt his muscles, and women held up their baby boys to touch him, hoping thathis strength would pass from him to their sons.
A dumpling seller was offeringhis wares nearby, and an admirer pressed Genba to accept a small snack.
“What do you think you’re doing now?” Hitomaro asked testily.
Genba chewed and smacked hislips. “Good. The bean paste might be sweeter. But,” his round face split into awide grin, “these dumplings are light as a feather and larger than any I’vehad. Hey,” he called out to the dumpling man, “a couple more, if you please.”
“We have to find Chobei, youmountain of lard!” Hitomaro gritted out.
Genba’s fans glared at him. Thedumpling man bobbed a bow and passed over the dumplings. “Master Genba mustkeep up his strength,” he said reprovingly to Hitomaro.
To Hitomaro’s annoyance and thenoisy approval of the bystanders, the dumpling man began to gyrate and chant, “Tie‘em into knots-ooh, ouch!-pick ‘em up, and throw ‘em down-whoosh!-kick ‘em offtheir feet-whack!-knock ‘em down and fall on ‘em-splat!” He concluded with abrutal knockout punch into the air, followed by a comical pratfall. The crowdloved it, and when the dumpling man bounced back up, they cheered and boughtdumplings. With a grin, he tended to his business.
Genba chuckled until Hitomarocursed wrestling matches and bean paste dumplings roundly and eloquently.Shoving the rest of the dumpling in his mouth, Genba chewed and swallowed. “I’msorry, brother,” he said. “What would you have me do?”
But Hitomaro had turned hisback and walked away.
When Hitomaro stopped to lookafter a well-dressed female, Genba caught up. “Hey,” he said. “You’re notlooking for Chobei. You’re looking at pretty women.”
Hitomaro snapped. “Don’t be anidiot.”
Genba peered into a large potof soup in a noodle stall. The vendor reached for his ladle and a bowl. “Somenice fresh noodles in my special soup for the gentlemen?” he cried in a highsingsong voice. “Best herbs and vegetables only! Gathered this very morning!Only two coppers.”
“Come along,” Hitomaro growled.
Genba sighed. “I suppose afterthe match, I’ll be put on short rations anyway.”
“Be good for you. The tribunalstairs won’t take your weight.” Hitomaro’s arm shot out, pulling Genba behindthe straw canopy of a stall. He hissed, “Duck! There’s the bastard now.”
Two men passed, walkingpurposefully. One was Chobei. The former sergeant of the tribunal wore a newblue cotton robe, matching trousers, and straw boots. His companion was a shortfat man in brown silk and a black sash with an official’s black cap on hishead. Chobei talked and waved his hands about. His companion looked haughty andkept shaking his head. They disappeared in the crowd.
Hitomaro stared after them. “NowI’ve seen everything!”
“Who was that with him?” Genbaasked.
Someone giggled at their feet.A pretty girl with bright black eyes raised a hand to cover her mouth. She satamong her earthenware dishes and bowls, the owner of the stall they had duckedinto.
“Please forgive the intrusion,miss,” Genba said politely. “We didn’t want to talk to those men and tookadvantage of your canopy.”
Her eyes were on Hitomaro. “MaybeI can help. Which one are you interested in? That good-for-nothing Chobei orthe judge?”
“That Chobei!” Hitomarogrowled. “Where the hell did he get new clothes? And since when does thatbastard keep company with the judge?”
She giggled again. “Since JudgeHisamatsu made him his overseer. That’s how he got the new clothes, and a finehouse besides. It’s on the judge’s property.”
“How come that ignorant rascalhad such luck?” Genba marveled.
She rolled her eyes. “The judgeisn’t right in the head.”
Hitomaro gave a snort. “You cansay that again. Chobei’s worthless.”
“No. Really. He thinks he’ssomebody else.”
Hitomaro gave her hisattention. She responded with a coy smile, and Hitomaro squatted and smiledback. “Who does he think he is? And how come you know these things?”
She brushed back her hair and smiled. “Easy. My mother works for the judge. She says he thinks he’s really a grand minister.”
Hitomaro frowned. “He didn’t sound mad to me. What does he want Chobei for?”
A woman stopped at the standand picked up one of the bowls. The girl hesitated. “I’ve got a customer.”
Hitomaro grabbed her arm. “Answerme!”
She pouted and freed her arm. “Thejudge hired Chobei to run his estate,” she snapped. “He said a nobleman needsretainers.”
The customer cleared her throatand glared at Hitomaro, who glared back and stalked away. Genba muttered anapology and put down a handful of coins before following him.
“That’s a really strange story,”Genba said when he caught up. He got no answer, and chuckled. “Your mind’s onother things. You’re looking at girls again. I bet you’ve got a girlfriend.”
Hitomaro turned on him. “Whatbusiness of yours is my private life?”
“Sorry, brother. I meantnothing by it.” Genba’s eyes were large with shock and hurt. He muttered, “MaybeI’d better go.”
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Hitomaro slowly unclenched hisfists. “No. It was nothing. Forget it.”
But Genba’s cheerful face hadturned grave. “Hito, this isn’t like you. Are you in some kind of trouble? We’vebeen through too much together for you to act this way. Either you let me help,or we part company here and now.”
Hitomaro stopped. He bit hislip. “The trouble is someone else’s. I have promised not to tell.” He paused. “Couldyou lend me some silver without asking what it’s for?”
Genba’s eyebrows shot up. “Silver?When you’ve been putting away every copper cash toward a piece of land. You’vesaved twenty bars of silver already.”
“I… it’s all gone. Please don’task.” Hitomaro made a helpless gesture.
“I have fifteen bars. They’reyours.”
“Thanks, brother. I swear, I’llpay you back as soon as I can.”
“Keep it. I don’t need it. If Iwin the contest, and I think I will, there’s a prize of ten bars of silver anda new silk robe in it for me. Come, now that your problem’s been solved, let’scelebrate in that eating place over there. They make a very fine fish stew.”
This time Hitomaro did notargue. They found a couple of empty spaces on a bench outside, ordered wine andtwo bowls of stew, and watched the passersby.
But before their food arrived,a commotion caused a general rush up the street. A woman screamed. Someoneshouted for constables.
Hitomaro was on his feet. Genbaheaved himself up, casting a despairing look toward the waitress who was comingwith their order, and followed.
Hitomaro plunged into the pressof people. Genba made his way by simply lifting people out of his path until hecaught up with Hitomaro.
In an open space in the centerof the market street, a tall well-dressed man was bending over the body of ayoung beggar. The crowd watched the scene, transfixed. A woman sobbedhysterically, but the rest looked merely shocked or curious. The well-dressedman wiped the blade of a slender knife on the man’s rags, then straightened up.Looking about him with a frown, he tucked the knife into his sash. He was avery handsome man, yet Hitomaro felt an instant surge of hatred.
