The Dragon Scroll

by I. J. Parker

  Motosuke put down his chopsticks and wiped his mouth with a sheet of soft mulberry paper he withdrew from one of his sleeves. "You may count on me," he said graciously.

  Akitada added his own acceptance, hoping he would be spared the speech.

  To their surprise, Joto lingered after giving the particulars. "There is another, less pleasant matter I wished to bring to your attention, Governor," he said. "It concerns a crime. Blasphemous thieves have become bold enough to rob the Buddha himself."

  Akitada knew what was coming.

  "Really?" asked Motosuke, astonished. "I expect word of your treasures is getting out. What did they get away with?"

  Joto placed the palms of his hands together and raised them to his lips. "Nothing, thanks be to Amida. Our people kept their eyes open and surprised them in the attempt. The villains fled, but we may not be so fortunate next time."

  "Shocking, if it is so," said Akitada, shaking his head. "But didn't you say that nothing was taken? Perhaps your monks simply surprised some curious pilgrims."

  Joto fixed him with a cold stare. "Impossible. We have learned to be careful of those who pretend devotion for evil purposes. Pilgrims are not admitted after dark, and those who spend the night in the monastery are locked into their rooms. Besides, my disciples got a good look at the three culprits as they scrambled over the wall. Their clothing and appearance marked them as professional robbers, the kind that roam our streets and highways with such impunity."

  Akitada raised his brows. "A very surprising thing for highwaymen to do, in my experience. There is another possibility, if I may make such a suggestion. Just as a criminal may hide under a pilgrim's robe and straw hat, the same man may shave his head and put on the habit of a monk. Is Your Reverence certain that all the monks presently at the temple are, in fact, what they appear to be?"

  Joto's eyes glittered. "I cannot accept your theory," he said. "It casts doubt on our community and undermines the good we have achieved in this province. Indeed, such rumors have been spread before, but only by our enemies."

  So hostilities had begun. Akitada put on a bland face. "Just a suggestion. It is equally possible that it was a prank by ghost-hunting youngsters. The temple is said to be haunted."

  "I cannot imagine where Your Excellency heard rumors of ghosts. We are trained to exorcise evil spirits, not to raise them."

  "Ah," said Akitada, "this is very true. But the less enlightened souls among the local people often have a difficult time distinguishing between saints and demons. You must admit that in spiritual as well as worldly affairs things are not always as they appear to be." He had the intense pleasure of seeing Joto at a loss for words.

  Motosuke cleared his throat. "Have you reported the incident to Ikeda?" he asked. "He's the man to talk to. I regret that I am already busy with travel plans. In fact, Lord Sugawara and I were in the middle of planning our route just now."

  Joto compressed his lips and rose. "In that case I regret my intrusion," he said, bowing stiffly.

  Akitada and Motosuke rose also. "Not at all," the governor murmured, moving toward the door.

  Joto managed to pass close to the scrolls. Before the painting of the storm dragon he seemed to miss a step for a moment, but then he walked rapidly to the door and left.

  "Phew," said Motosuke as they resumed their seats. "I thought the fellow would never leave. What a silly tale. Robbers in the temple. Now, what did you come to tell me?"

  "That I was one of the robbers."

  Motosuke's jaw dropped.

  Akitada told him about their nighttime excursion and what they had found. Motosuke looked stunned, his eyes becoming rounder and rounder, and his initial amusement gradually giving way to horror.

  "Holy heaven!" he cried when Akitada was done. "Do you mean to say that Joto has buried some of the monks alive? But why?"

  "I suspect they refused to be converted to his teachings," Akitada said dryly. "Does the name Gennin mean anything to you?"

  "Of course. Gennin was abbot before Joto. He is supposed to have retired because of ill health. Are you saying he is down there?"

  "I am afraid so. And Gennin is not alone. We heard voices chanting. How soon can we move in with constables and set them free?"

  Motosuke shook his head. "I don't see how... not with constables in any case. With that cache of naginata we need an army." He twisted his hands in frustration.

  "The man is a threat to the country's security." Akitada gestured to Otomi's painting of the storm dragon. "That scroll is what made me suspicious of Joto and his temple in the first place. All the soldiers on that ship are armed with naginata, and a monk sits on the raised platform normally reserved for a captain or general."

  Motosuke got up and looked. "How very odd," he said. "How did the deaf-mute girl come to paint this?"

  "I think she witnessed the ambush of the tax convoy and painted the criminals. If I'm not mistaken, those soldiers are armed monks. Yukinari just reported an encounter with a small band of naginata- armed monks." Akitada paused, frowning. "I'm afraid that Joto may have realized just now what the scroll means."

  "He's nearsighted. Besides, it looks like just another dragon painting. You did not find any trace of the tax goods at the temple?"

  "No. They must be elsewhere. I have a suspicion about one of the local merchants, but that will have to wait. Gennin and the others must be released first."

  Motosuke sighed and looked at Akitada helplessly. "I don't think you quite understand the problem, my dear Akitada. We cannot storm the temple with constables or soldiers. The local people will not permit it. They will rise up against anyone who attacks their benefactors."

  Too true. Akitada realized it immediately. The frustration caused him to burst into angry speech. "Then they must be made to see that it is not saints but monsters they protect."

  "But how?" yelped Motosuke.

  Akitada suddenly had a wild idea and seized Motosuke's arm. "The ceremony! The one we are invited to attend. Don't you see? There will be a huge crowd. What more perfect excuse to move in soldiers? And when we bring out our proof in the person of the liberated Gennin, the people will be convinced of Joto's guilt."

  Motosuke stared. "Holy Buddha! You can't mean it. Oh, my dear friend, think of the risks."

  Akitada released Motosuke. Suddenly, he saw the situation from the other man's perspective. If the Buddhist faction at court found out, as they must, that Akitada and Motosuke had disrupted a religious ceremony with arms and caused, as was probable, bloodshed, both Motosuke's career and his daughter's elevation to empress were in jeopardy. Against this the fate of a few elderly monks in a subterranean prison must weigh very lightly, indeed.

  But the governor surprised him. Motosuke straightened his small, fat body and squared his round shoulders. He said firmly, "It is a brilliant idea, elder brother. We shall do it. Leave the details to me. There is only one problem. We are going to need Yukinari's cooperation."

  "Yukinari will support us. As I mentioned, his patrol ran into a group of Joto's monks. There have been bad feelings on both sides for a long time."

  Motosuke frowned. "When did you find out?"

  "Yesterday. Incidentally, Yukinari had a strange accident before I saw him. A heavy bronze bell came off its support and nearly killed him. Such an accident could have been arranged quite easily. The monks may have an accomplice in the garrison."

  "I expect you worry too much. But we still don't know Tachibana's murderer. You thought Tachibana was killed because he knew something about the robberies. Do you now suspect Joto of that crime also?"

  Akitada hesitated. So much had happened. They had evidence that Joto and his martial monks were behind the theft of the tax shipments, but that did not mean they had murdered the ex-governor. The mysterious nighttime visitor still needed to be accounted for. There was also the Rat's peculiar story about Jikoku-ten. Jikoku-ten was usually portrayed as wearing armor, and he had been seen coming through the back gate. Akitada did not believe in manif
estations. The Rat had not encountered an incarnation of one of the four divine generals, but a murderer, and the murderer had knocked the old beggar down, perhaps intending to kill him.

  Motosuke cleared his throat.

  "Forgive me," said Akitada. "I just remembered another detail." He explained the Rat's adventure and added, "Lady Tachibana may have a lover."

  Motosuke raised his brows. "I cannot say I'm at all surprised. It was one of those spring and winter marriages. Tachibana gave her a home when her father, his best friend, died. She was a mere child while he was old enough to be her grandfather. Frankly, I thought he was in his dotage to do such a thing. Her background did not promise well either."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Her mother was a courtesan in the capital. Her father became enamored of this female on a visit there, bought her out, and brought her back with him as his concubine. After she bore him a child, he lost interest. The woman returned to her old life, taking the girl and a small fortune in gold with her. When she died, the girl was shipped back to her natural father, who, after the initial shock, ended up spoiling her terribly. Nothing was too good for her. She is said to have ruined him, and she tried to ruin Tachibana with her expensive tastes." Motosuke looked disgusted. "I never met her. Is she very handsome?"

  "Oh, yes!" Akitada thought of his feelings for the lovely creature in her embroidered silks and felt a little foolish.

  Motosuke eyed him shrewdly. "A beguiling flirt like her mother?"

  "Perhaps." Actually, he was certain of it now that he knew her story. And--he was honest enough to admit it--because he had found Ayako and was no longer vulnerable to childlike beauties with their appealing ways. He recognized the sudden faintness, the tears, the small hand creeping into his for what they had been: the wiles of a seductress.

  "Could Yukinari be the lover?" Motosuke asked.

  "He was. In fact, I suspected him of the murder. His refusal to see her struck me as very strange. Then one of the maids told me of the affair. She is the woman who thought she saw him leave the night of the murder. But Yukinari was out of town the entire night and swears he broke off the affair last summer."

  Motosuke scowled. "He met my daughter."

  "Yes. He is very distraught."

  "Infernal fool! And you think Lady Tachibana then took up with someone else?"

  "Yes. Perhaps the man is another officer."

  Motosuke pursed his lips. "Women are vengeful creatures. Perhaps she killed Tachibana. Wouldn't a soldier have used his sword?"

  "It seems unlikely that an armed man would bludgeon his enemy to death. Tachibana was hit over the head with some heavy piece of glazed tile or ceramic utensil. I found a green shard in his topknot. That suggests an unpremeditated act by an unarmed man."

  Motosuke asked, "What will you do next?"

  Akitada sighed. "I promised Lady Tachibana some help in settling her estate. It may serve as a pretext to snoop a little."

  "Excellent. I shall begin to make plans for the temple affair and let you know as soon as I have talked to Yukinari."

  Now that he had got his way, Akitada began to feel uneasy.

  "Be careful," he said. "The fewer people know, the better."

  When he returned to his rooms, Seimei was watching Tora, who was pacing the floor impatiently.

  "There you are," Tora greeted Akitada. "I found a man who knows where Hidesato eats and sent him a message. Can we go right away? It's getting late."

  Akitada raised his hands. "Slowly, Tora. I have just come from the governor. There may be more urgent work."

  "You'd better read this first." Seimei took a curious object from Akitada's desk and held it up: a bare branch with a slip of mulberry paper tied to it with crimson silk. "The boy who brought it is waiting for an answer."

  Akitada reached for the letter, then pulled back his hand as if bitten by a snake. He knew the sender. Unfortunately, he could not avoid it. Reluctantly, he untied the note, dropping silk and branch carelessly on the floor. The paper was expensive and heavily perfumed. He read: "How sad the barren branch, the blasted flower, when friendship cools, and deadly frost kills budding love." It was a poor poetic effort, too stilted and lacking in subtlety, but she had reason to complain. He had not kept his promise because of Ayako. For a moment he stood undecided.

  "What's a fornicator?" asked Tora.

  Akitada started. "What?"

  Seimei, always the mentor, explained, but Tora shook his head. "You must be wrong, old man. There are no women there. Was the old monk crazy, sir?"

  Understanding dawned belatedly. Tora and Seimei had discussed the incident at the temple while his own mind wandered along the twisted paths of love. "No, Tora," he said with a grimace. "I expect the old monk spoke the truth. It is a practice among some monks to enjoy the love of boys."

  "Swine!" Tora shook his head, then asked, "Now will you come talk to Hidesato, sir?"

  Akitada let Lady Tachibana's note drop to the floor. "Yes, Tora. Lead the way."

  The Inn of the Eight Immortals was a ramshackle two-storied building in the brothel quarter. From its upper story eight garish banners with the figures of the sages fluttered dispiritedly in the cold wind. Tora gave his master an uneasy look.

  "Go on," said Akitada, pointing at the narrow doorway covered with strips of dingy brown grass cloth. His peers in the capital would have shunned this place like a smallpox-infected house, and he wondered what Motosuke would think of his "elder brother" now.

  The restaurant was large and instantly enveloped them in raucous noise and pungent smells. Four cooks, stripped to the waist and wearing checked towels around their heads, worked over the bamboo steamers, while some fifty customers were busy eating, drinking, and chattering.

  Akitada's eyes followed a tray of succulent shrimp, balanced precariously on the shoulder of a youngster who stepped nimbly between the seated parties to serve a group of men.

  "There he is," Tora cried. "Hidesato!"

  Near the steaming cauldrons, a tall, bearded man rose, looking as if he wished he were elsewhere. He gave Tora a tight smile and bowed to Akitada.

  Tora embraced him and slapped his back. "We've searched for you everywhere, Hito. Why did you run off like that?"

  Hidesato's eyes went to Akitada. "Later, brother."

  Akitada liked the sergeant's open face and soldierly manner, even though the feeling was not mutual. Hidesato was openly hostile. Akitada's heart sank, but for Tora's sake he would try. "I'm hungry," he said, sitting down. "Come, let's order."

  Hidesato cleared his throat. "They serve only common fare here," he said.

  Akitada ignored this comment and ordered three large servings of shrimp and a pitcher of wine, then said, "Tora can tell you what we ate on our journey here. This is a feast."

  Hidesato muttered, "Oh." His eyes kept wandering toward the entrance.

  "Are you expecting someone?" Akitada asked.

  "No. That is...sometimes a friend stops by."

  When the food and wine appeared, Akitada reached for his bowl, shelling his shrimp nimbly. Tora did the same and after a moment Hidesato joined them. Silence prevailed until the bowls were empty. Tora wiped his hands on his old robe, and Hidesato did likewise, then watched Akitada.

  "Excellent," Akitada said with a sigh of satisfaction and fished a paper tissue from his sleeve to clean his hands. "Now for some wine." He filled their cups. Tora bit his lip and looked down at his clenched hands. Akitada urged, "Why don't you give your friend the good news?"

  Tora looked up. "Oh. Looks like you'll be in the money again, Hito. The garrison's been looking for you. They need another experienced sergeant."

  Hidesato's face lit up. "Truly? I'd given up hope. I suppose I should have gone back after I lost my lodging." His eyes went to the entrance again.

  "Well," said Akitada, waving to the waitress to bring more wine, "drink up! You have something to celebrate after all. By the way, I am obliged to you. Tora has been teaching me the art of stick fighting.
He tells me you taught him."

  Hidesato stared at him, then at Tora, who said quickly, "He's good, Hito. I'm at the end of my tricks. Bet you'd make a better teacher."

  Hidesato shot Akitada an angry glance and snapped, "You shouldn't have done that, Tora. Your master's not one of us. What need has a nobleman for the simple skills of poor people? Fighting sticks are for those who aren't allowed to wear swords."