by I. J. Parker
"Will you ask your sister where she saw this scene?" he asked Ayako.
The girl hesitated, then went to Otomi to communicate Akitada's question. The younger girl looked up and became agitated, shaking her head and gesturing wildly.
"She doesn't want to talk about it," Ayako translated.
Akitada looked from the girls to their father. "I don't wish to distress your daughter, but I have the strangest feeling that there is something significant about this picture."
"Do you?" Higekuro's eyes lit up. "I agree. About a month ago, just after the festival of the dead, Otomi joined a local group for a pilgrimage to the Temple of Infinite Light in Shimosa province. She went there for research. The storm dragon was one of the pictures she painted on that journey. When she returned, we noticed that she was changed. She brooded a lot and had terrible nightmares. I've always thought that something happened to her on the pilgrimage and that the scroll is part of the mystery. You think that it might be connected with the tax matter? The time is right. If there is a connection, you give me hope that we may help her."
Akitada said, "You're right. The time and place of your daughter's pilgrimage roughly fit the date and route of the last tax convoy. Did your daughter take passage in a ship, or is this temple near the coastal highway?"
Higekuro stared at Akitada, then turned to Otomi and questioned her with sign language. She closed her eyes briefly and shook her head violently. He persisted, using his hands to make her look at him. Eventually she nodded. Taking a piece of charred wood from the kitchen stove, she scribbled on the hard dirt floor while gesturing to her father. Higekuro translated, "She stayed in the guest quarters of the monastery. The highway passes just below the monastery walls, and the guest quarters overlook Sagami Bay."
"Ask her if she saw a pack train passing by."
But this time, when her father communicated the question, Otomi turned pale and trembled. Clutching the piece of charred wood, she scrawled an illegible series of characters, then threw away the wood and staggered to her feet.
"Enough!" cried Ayako, jumping up and catching the shaking, weeping girl in her arms. Her eyes flashed angrily at Akitada. "You are tormenting her."
Akitada instantly revised his opinion about the sisters. Ayako was far more beautiful than the sweetly pretty Otomi. How could Tora be so blind? "I am very sorry," he said, "but surely you must see that your sister will have no peace until she shares her memory."
"My sister is an artist," flashed Ayako, "not a rough person like myself. I believe she was attacked and violated. She cannot face the brutality of that without breaking. Believe me, if I were not afraid of hurting her, I would have found out who did this to her." She took a deep breath and added fiercely, "I would have killed him!"
Otomi tore herself from her sister's arms and fled to Tora, who was hovering near them and received her eagerly in his embrace.
Akitada could not take his eyes off Ayako. "I believe you are wrong. What makes you think she was raped?" he asked.
"What else?" she spat. "Look at her! She's beautiful and men lust after her. Have you forgotten the monks who attacked her?" She glared at Tora. "No doubt your servant has similar designs."
"I do not!" cried an outraged Tora.
"Ayako!" thundered Higekuro.
She flushed and bowed to Tora. "Forgive my words," she said gruffly. "But not even in our unconventional family is it proper for you to embrace my sister."
Tora immediately released Otomi, who sniffled a little, then scurried up to the loft.
Higekuro sighed. "You must think us very strange," he said to Akitada, "but remember our background and our present life together. My daughters are everything to me. Perhaps I have been too indulgent with them, but the proprieties observed in the past have lost all meaning for the three of us."
Akitada nodded. "It's curious," he said, pointing to the scroll, "that monks should appear in both of your daughter's recent adventures. I am very interested in the Temple of Fourfold Wisdom and its abbot, Master Joto. Has Otomi visited there?"
"Yes, often." Higekuro pondered the question a moment. "She goes there to sell her pictures to the pilgrims. But surely there is no connection? Master Joto's monks have always been very helpful to her. The ones asking questions earlier today were probably just trying to send her customers."
Akitada looked at Ayako. "What do you think?" he asked softly.
She lifted her chin and met his eyes squarely. "I think you are right about the monks and Father is wrong," she said. "If you will leave my sister in peace, I'll help you investigate the monks."
Akitada laughed and bowed. "I admire your spirit. If your father permits it, it's a bargain." Turning to Higekuro, he asked, "Will you trust me with your daughter?"
Higekuro stroked his beard and looked from Akitada to Ayako and back again. "Ayako does not need my permission for anything she chooses to do. You may trust her. She knows her way about and is as useful as any man in a tight spot. Tora told us that you take an interest in stick fighting. Why not let Ayako give you a bout?"
Akitada glanced at the girl and thought he caught a look of distress, but she smiled and asked, "Are you willing, sir?"
Amused and intrigued, Akitada rose. "It would be an honor."
Taking up an oil lamp, Ayako led the way into the dark practice hall and lit the oil lamps attached to supporting beams. The hall sprang into an eerie, shadowy existence. The flames flickered in unseen drafts and familiar objects took on mysterious and threatening forms.
"Make your selection," Ayako said, pointing to a rack of staves.
Feeling a little foolish, Akitada removed his outer robe and fastened his full trousers around his knees. Then he found a weapon that felt comfortable and turned around.
Ayako had taken off her robe and wore only a pair of trousers. As he stared, she bent to tighten the strings around her knees. He had seen peasant women in the fields work bare-breasted, but that this beautiful young woman should do so in front of him shocked and flustered him.
"Do you teach your lessons like that?" The words were out before Akitada could stop himself.
She straightened up slowly and looked at him. Her body was magnificent. She was as slim and muscular as an active boy, with a boy's long torso, but high, softly rounded breasts, a flat stomach, and hips tapering to slender, firm thighs. The full fabric of the trousers partially hid the shape of her lower body, but her movements left little to Akitada's imagination and he swallowed.
"No," she said coldly and turned away to reach up for a sleeveless shirt hanging on a nail. "Men dislike fighting a woman. I wear a shirt and trousers, like one of the porters on the street, and they pretend I'm a boy. Would you prefer not to engage in a bout with a female?"
"Not at all. I'm ready." Akitada hoped the uncertain light hid his flushed face.
If he had thought to prove his masculine superiority by humoring this girl fighter, he was sadly disappointed. Perhaps he had angered her, because Ayako attacked with a speed and ferocity that saw him disarmed in a minute. Wordlessly, she bent and tossed him his stave, and they began again. This time Akitada was more careful, but he lost his weapon once more. Again she threw it to him, saying, "Your technique is good, but you have been taught to attack. When you are forced to receive an attack, you have no notion how to defend yourself. This time I'll let you force me back. Watch how I counter your strikes."
Akitada bit his lip and did his best. To his surprise, even his hardest hits and quickest lunges were parried. He was about to give up before he disgraced himself completely when Ayako disarmed him for the third time.
He stood staring at his stave on the floor between them and shook his head. "You are a superb fighter," he said in awe.
"Thank you."
Her words sounded muffled, and he looked up. She had her back to him and was hanging the shirt back on its hook. Her long, slender back glistened with a sheen of perspiration that moved in patterns of light and darkness across the flexing muscles. This time s
he did not turn around until she had put on her long robe and tied her sash. When she faced him in the flickering lights, he thought he saw tears in her eyes.
"I expect you want to make a clandestine visit to the temple," she said, avoiding his eyes. "We could go tonight if you like."
"Yes." He agreed almost without volition. Putting on his robe, he wondered how this strange girl could have disturbed him so powerfully and why he wished to prolong their time together even at the cost of a night's sleep.
They rejoined the others. Otomi had returned, looking pale but much calmer, and was gathering up her paintings.
Akitada said to Higekuro, "Would you ask your daughter if I might purchase two of the scrolls? The dragon scroll and the mountain landscape?"
Higekuro spoke to Otomi, who nodded and brought the pictures to him. "They are a gift," her father said, extending them to Akitada.
"No." Akitada was firm. "I will pay the top price she has been getting." He looked at Ayako.
"Two bars of silver apiece," she said, tossing her head.
Higekuro drew in his breath. "Ridiculous! You know very well that was the price of a commissioned mandala with three hundred figures of saints."
"Four bars of silver it is," said Akitada recklessly, remembering Motosuke's gold. "The price is reasonable for good work. I will pay your daughter tomorrow." Turning to Tora, he said, "Miss Ayako has offered to take us into the monastery tonight. It means postponing the search for your friend until tomorrow."
"What's so hard about getting into a temple?" Tora asked with a disdainful look at Ayako.
"This temple is not like others, Tora, and Miss Ayako has been there before. You and I have not."
"You will need to change clothes," Ayako said to Akitada.
"Then we'll stop at the tribunal."
"We don't need Tora."
Tora's face stiffened. "I'm going!" he snapped.
Akitada hesitated, then told Ayako, "There may be trouble. Tora will be useful."
Ayako whirled to face him, her eyes fierce. "I can handle any man," she said. "What else do you want me to do to prove it to you?"
Akitada stepped back. "I did not mean ... It was not meant as an insult. But there are so many monks there that even Tora and I..." Seeing the flash of anger at his use of the word even, he said quickly, "If we are discovered, three have a better chance of escaping. Two of us can hold off the enemy while one runs for help."
"If you're careful and don't do anything stupid, we won't be discovered." She turned away and ran up to the loft with the smooth, long strides of a large cat.
Akitada told Higekuro, "Thank you for making me as welcome as Tora. I hope he has behaved himself."
Higekuro glanced at Tora and Otomi, who were taking their time putting away the game pieces and managing to touch hands as much as possible. He smiled. "Tora's like the son I never had," he said. "I don't want Otomi to get hurt, but I won't deny my daughters some joy while they are young." He met Akitada's eyes and added with great seriousness, "Remember this: my daughters and I are outside the world you live in; we have made our own rules."
Akitada had no idea how to respond to this puzzling advice, so he thanked his host for the wine and entertainment and gathered up his scrolls.
When Ayako returned, she wore long black trousers and a long-sleeved black shirt. Her hair was bound up in a black scarf. "Do you have any dark clothes?" she asked, frowning at Akitada's white silk trousers and pale gray robe.
"Yes. Though nothing nearly as becoming as your costume," he said with a warm smile.
She looked startled and turned away abruptly. "Let's go then."
* * * *
TEN
THE TEMPLE OF
FOURFOLD WISDOM
Akitada, in his dark brown hunting clothes, joined Tora in the stable yard. Tora had brought horses from the governor's stables and wore a quilted cotton coat that was so stained and faded it was hard to tell if it was green or black. A pair of badly patched blue trousers were tucked into his boots.
Akitada stared at him. "Is there some naked beggar outside the gate?"
"What's wrong with my clothes?" Tora asked. "They're dark. Had to give that greedy bastard of a stable boy ten coppers and my blue robe for them."
The stable boy, who had saddled the three horses and was standing about yawning, decided to disappear.
"You gave him your new blue robe? I paid three strings of coppers for your clothes," protested Akitada.
Tora snorted. "You were cheated. They didn't keep me as warm as this." He patted his quilted coat affectionately, then took the bridles of two horses and headed out the door, leaving Akitada to follow behind with the third.
Ayako regarded her horse with intense dislike.
"Come on," mocked Tora. "Get up! He won't bite."
She gave him a furious look and scrambled up awkwardly. Taking the reins, she gingerly directed the docile beast onto the road. "Follow me," she said over her shoulder. "We can't use the Great Northern Gate. The guards ask questions."
They passed quickly through dark deserted streets north of the tribunal and turned down a short alley that ended at the palisade enclosing the city. Someone had broken the boards there, making an opening wide enough for a horse and rider to pass through. A well-trodden path led down into the wide ditch and up the other side. Clearly they were not the only ones who avoided official scrutiny at the Great Northern Gate.
Once in the countryside, they traveled quickly along narrow farm roads. Mulberry groves, leafless at this time of year, raised screens of fine black branches against the starry sky. The moon, nearly full, moved with them in ghostly fashion behind the lacy boughs.
It was cold, and the horses' breath hung white in the air when they snorted. They were riding single file, with Ayako leading the way and Tora bringing up the rear. Akitada's eyes were on the slender, straight back of the young woman in front of him. He wondered if she was cold in her thin black cotton shirt and trousers. Belatedly it occurred to him that, being unfamiliar with horses, she had expected to ride in front of one of them.
Bringing his horse up beside hers as soon as the road widened a little, he asked, "Are you cold?"
"No," she said curtly. "I don't like horses, that's all."
"I'm sorry I did not ask before. Would you like to ride with me?"
For a moment she hesitated, then she stiffened her shoulders and shook her head.
"Why did you offer to come? You could have drawn us a map."
"I wanted to come." After a moment she grudgingly added, "Besides, you need me. I know how to get in. When my sister was attacked, I got suspicious of the monks and paid a visit to the temple."
"And?"
"In the daytime they watch all visitors. I decided to come back after dark. The first time they almost caught me. Last time I found ... well, something strange."
"What?"
"Wait till you see." She kicked her horse into a faster trot, and Akitada fell behind.
The mulberry groves thinned, and an icy wind began to catch at their clothes. The narrow road joined a much wider highway leading into the mountains. Akitada looked back over his shoulder. Behind him stretched the plain toward the distant bay--a thin silver line marking the separation of the night sky from the land. Between them and the sea lay the city, an amorphous mass of snow-covered roofs, pine groves, and pagodas.
Tora sat huddled into his quilted coat, staring ahead. "Looks dark in those woods," he muttered.
The mountains loomed ominously ahead, and the band of moon-silvered road led straight into them. Within minutes the pine forest swallowed them up.
The forest screened them from the wind, but small night animals frightened their horses, and many eyes, glittering sparks in the darkness of the trees lining the road, watched them pass. Tora cursed once, and when Akitada looked back, he saw in the dim moonlight that Tora was clutching the amulet he wore on a string around his neck. Tora's superstitious fears were at odds with the courage he displayed ag
ainst human opponents.
The road began to climb, twisting back and forth among rock outcroppings. It was in excellent condition and quite wide, clearly a result of the fame of Joto's temple.
Soon Ayako stopped her horse and waited for them to come up. "There!" she said, pointing. The trees thinned ahead, and they saw the top of a tall pagoda stretching a graceful spire and curved roofs into the starry sky, its snowy ridge tiles and gilded eave ornaments, its bells and hanging lanterns shimmering in the moonlight. "We have to turn aside here," Ayako told them. "The gate is guarded day and night. We'll take the horses into the woods a little ways and walk from there."
