Текст книги "Island of Exiles "
Автор книги: Ingrid J. Parker
Жанр:
Исторические детективы
сообщить о нарушении
Текущая страница: 1 (всего у книги 25 страниц)
I S L A N D O F E X I L E S
A M Y S T E R Y O F E A R LY J A PA N
I . J. PA R K E R
P E N G U I N B O O K S
penguin books
I S L A N D O F E X I L E S
i. j. parker, winner of a Shamus Award for the short story
“Akitada’s First Case,” is the author of The Dragon Scroll, Rashomon Gate, Black Arrow, and The Hell Screen, and lives in Virginia Beach, Virginia.
I S L A N D O F E X I L E S
A M Y S T E R Y O F E A R LY J A PA N
I . J. PA R K E R
P E N G U I N B O O K S
penguin books
Published by the Penguin Group
Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, U.S.A.
Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario, Canada M4P 2Y3 (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.)
Penguin Books Ltd, 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
Penguin Ireland, 25 St Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2, Ireland
(a division of Penguin Books Ltd)
Penguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia (a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty Ltd)
Penguin Books India Pvt Ltd, 11 Community Centre,
Panchsheel Park, New Delhi-110 017, India
Penguin Group (NZ), 67 Apollo Drive, Rosedale, North Shore 0745, Auckland, New Zealand (a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd.)
Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty) Ltd, 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, South Africa
Penguin Books Ltd, Registered Offices:
80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
First published in Penguin Books 2007
Copyright © I. J. Parker, 2007
All rights reserved
Publisher’s Note
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
library of congress cataloging in publication data
Parker, I. J. (Ingrid J.)
Island of exiles / I.J. Parker
p. cm.
ISBN: 1-4362-4739-X
1. Japan—History—Heian period, 794–1185—Fiction.
2. Sugawara Akitada (Fictitious character)
3. Penal colonies—Fiction. 4. Exiles—Fiction. I. Title.
PS3616.A745I85 2007
813'.6—dc22 2007012078
Set in Minion
The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law.
Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.
For Hannah and Tony,
in hopes that they may grow up to love books
AC K N OW L E D G M E N T S
I am indebted to my readers John Rosenman, Jacqueline
Falkenhan, Richard Rowand, Bob Stein, and John Bushore for
their comments and encouragement. My editor, Ali Bothwell
Mancini, deserves credit for making decisions at the production
stage. And, as always, I am deeply grateful to my agents, Jean
Naggar and Jennifer Weltz, for their unstinting efforts in pro-
moting this series as well as for their unfailing and enthusiastic
support of its author.
C H A R AC T E R S A N D P L AC E S
P l ace Na m e s :
Sadoshima
Sado Island in the Sea of Japan
Mano
Main port city and provincial
headquarters on Sawata Bay
Minato
Village between Lake Kamo and the
northeast coast (modern Ryotsu)
Tsukahara
Village near the southern mountains
Sawata
Town on Sawata Bay
Echigo
Northern province of Japan, known as
“snow country” (modern Niigata)
C h a r ac te r s i n E ch i g o :
Sugawara Akitada
Minor government official, deputy
governor in Echigo
Tora
One of his retainers, presently lieutenant
of the provincial guard
Seimei
His aged secretary
Tamako
His wife, the mother of his baby son, Yori
xii
C h a r a c t e r s a n d P l a c e s
C h a r ac te r s i n Sa d o s h i m a :
Prince Okisada
Aka the “Second Prince,” oldest son
of the previous emperor. Exiled for
plotting the current emperor’s
overthrow
Taira Takamune
His former tutor and fellow exile
Professor Sakamoto
Retired professor of classics, writing a
history of Sado Island
Mutobe Toshikata
Governor of Sadoshima
Mutobe Toshito
His son and assistant
Shunsei
Young Buddhist monk and the prince’s
lover
Yoshimine Taketsuna Newly arrived exile with a secret
Jisei
Prisoner recently released from digging
“badger holes”
Haseo
Taciturn prisoner with a scarred back
Doctor Ogata
Alcoholic physician and coroner
Lieutenant Wada
The local police authority
Superintendent
In charge of the prison and the
Yamada
“Valuables Office”
Masako
His daughter
Shijo Yutaka
Head of the provincial archives
Genzo
One of his scribes
Ribata
Nun with a past
Osawa
Tax inspector in search of a wife
Kumo Sanetomo
Local landowner and high constable of
Sadoshima
Kita
Kumo’s mine foreman
C h a r a c t e r s a n d P l a c e s
xiii
Takao
Landlady of the Minato inn and Osawa’s
friend
Haru
Owner of lake restaurant Bamboo Grove
Doctor Nakatomi
The prince’s physician
Taimai (Turtle)
Crippled porter
Oyoshi
His sister, hostel keeper, and mother of
many children
Little Flower
Childlike prostitute
Ikugoro
Wada’s sergeant of constables
Also: two unnamed but high-ranking officials from the emperor’s private office, cooks, guards, servants, fishermen, monks, elderly
gentlewomen, constables, scribes, and an antique flute.
I S L A N D O F E X I L E S
P RO LO G U E
The orange sun disappeared behind the top of the mountain
range, and a gradual gloom settled over the garden. At the lake’s
edge, a crane emerged cautiously from the reeds and froze, its
small black eye on the five humans in the lakeside pavilion. The
brilliant red patch on its head and the elegant black and white
plumage were clearly visible in spite of the white mist that was
beginning to rise from the darkening surface of the water. The
air chilled quickly on Sado Island.
The crane was hungry for a mouthful of fish before seeking
its roost. The humans, replete with good food and wine, let
their conversation lag in the approaching darkness.
Advancing two slow, considered steps, the crane turned its
attention to the lake bottom.
2
I . J . P a r k e r
Professor Sakamoto and his four guests watched the bird
idly. The professor had retired from the imperial university
in the capital and settled here to write a history of the island
and its famous exiles. This evening his guest of honor was
Prince Okisada, a half-brother of the current sovereign and un-
cle of a future emperor. A frail man in his late forties, the Sec-
ond Prince was by far the island’s most exalted political exile.
Reaching for his wine cup, the prince raised his eyes from
the crane to the mountaintop. Gilded by the last ray of sun, it
looked as if a line of pure gold had been drawn between earth
and heaven. He drank deeply and murmured, “It is time. The
light is almost gone.” His tone and expression were filled with
deep emotion, but he slurred his words a little. Grimacing, he
pressed a hand to his stomach. “What did you put in that prawn
stew, Toshito?” he asked the young man on his left.
“Nothing, Your Highness. The woman uses just prawns, a
bit of seaweed, and herbs. I was told it is your favorite.” Mutobe
Toshito looked annoyed. He was the governor’s son and filling
in for his father tonight.
The professor said peaceably, “It smelled delicious, Toshito.
I am sure His Highness enjoyed the local specialty. What a
thoughtful gesture. We were all pleased to see him eat with a
good appetite for a change.”
“There is nothing wrong with my appetite, Sakamoto,” said
the Second Prince irritably, and belched.
“Is Your Highness feeling unwell?” The other elderly man, on
the prince’s right, touched his arm solicitously. Taira Takamoto
had been the prince’s tutor and shared his exile now.
The Second Prince shook off Taira’s hand, his face white
and drawn. He kept massaging his stomach. “Shunsei,” he
murmured querulously to the handsome young monk sitting
silently across from him, “come closer and massage my neck.
I s l a n d o f E x i l e s
3
You are the only one who gives me pleasure these days. Will you
stay the night?”
The young monk flushed and bowed deeply. “I am expected
at the temple tonight, Highness,” he said apologetically. His
voice was soft and his eyes moist with adoration. He got up and
went to kneel behind the prince.
The Second Prince fidgeted. “Never mind! Go, if you prefer
their company. Is my room ready, Sakamoto?”
The professor got to his feet. “I’ll see to it immediately,
Highness.”
Lord Taira emptied his cup and rose also. “I shall make sure
that His Highness has all he needs. Good night, all.” The two
older men walked away toward the house. After a moment, the
handsome monk bowed and followed them.
Only young Toshito remained with the prince. He looked
after Shunsei with an expression of distaste.
“You d-don’t approve of my lover?” the Second Prince said
with some difficulty.
The young man flushed. “I . . . I beg your pardon, Highness?”
“D-don’t bother to pretend. I’ve been aware that you and
the governor disapprove of my t-tastes as much as my politics.
It could not matter less to me. We shall prevail against the
tyranny of an unlawful regime at l-last.”
The governor’s son stiffened and said uneasily, “I must
remind you, Highness, that you were sent here as a prisoner. You
are not likely to leave, certainly not as long as you voice treasonable intentions. And I’m afraid I shall have to report your words
to my father, who will, in turn, report them to the emperor.”
The Second Prince did not answer. He turned to look after
the others, who had almost reached the house. Suddenly he
groaned and bent forward, clutching his belly with both hands.
Toshito jumped to his feet. “What is it? Are you ill?”
4
I . J . P a r k e r
“Help me, please!” The prince’s voice rose to a shout of agony.
Sweat beaded his face. He reached convulsively for his throat,
choking out the words, “Loosen my collar! I cannot breathe.”
The young man approached and leaned down to tug at the
prince’s collar, but the brocade robe fit tightly and he had to use both hands. To his horror, the prince began to scream again.
His arms flailed wildly, delivering weak blows to Toshito’s face
and chest.
Down at the lakeshore, the startled crane had raised its head
at the first shout. Now it spread its huge wings and flew off, a
flapping fish in its long bill.
The others came running back to the pavilion.
Young Mutobe was still trying to restrain the wildly jerking
prince. “Calm down, Highness,” he gasped, and then shouted to
Shunsei, “Run for the doctor!” But it was too late. The prince
went first rigid and then limp in Toshito’s arms and sagged
heavily against him. He lowered the body to the ground.
Shunsei fell to his knees next to the prince and wailed,
“Beloved, do not leave me yet.”
Lord Taira was still out of breath, but his face contorted,
and he struck the governor’s son so violently in the chest that
the young man went tumbling backward and fell against the
railing.
The professor knelt to check the prince’s breathing. “He’s
dead,” he said.
“Murderer!” Taira pointed a shaking finger at Toshito, who
lay where he had fallen, stunned with surprise. “You and your
father did this. Did you think we would not hear his scream for
help? We all saw you choke him. You killed a son of heaven. Not
even the present government will countenance such sacrilege.”
In the shocked silence which followed Taira’s words, the first
frog croaked in the reeds of the darkening lake.
C H A P T E R O N E
V I S I TO R S
The two high-ranking officials from the capital arrived in the
tribunal of Echigo on a late summer afternoon.
When Seimei brought the news, Akitada was sitting on the
remnants of the veranda in his private courtyard. He had been
practicing his flute, while his young wife played with their baby
son in the small enclosed area between their living quarters and
the ramshackle assortment of halls and stables which made up
the official headquarters of the province. It was no elegant
courtyard with stones, lanterns, clipped trees, and raked gravel
streams, but just a small square of dirt with a few weeds growing
in the corners of the broken fence and under the veranda. They
had been quite happy that afternoon. Tamako had swung the
baby high up toward the limpid summer sky and laughed at the
child’s delighted gurgling. And Akitada had smiled as he prac-
ticed “Dewdrops on the Autumn Grasses.” But he had felt a
small pang of guilt when her sleeves slipped back and he saw
how thin her arms had become.
6
I . J . P a r k e r
He should not have brought her here to this inhospitable
place where the rain and snow blew into their rooms, and the
winters were as cold as their reception had been. But she had
come eagerly, putting aside her old life to be a good and loyal
wife to a struggling government official.
Sometimes he wished Tamako were a little less correct about
her duties. Before the birth of his son there had been intimacy
between them. In their nights together she had begun to open up
to him, to share her secret thoughts after sharing her body.
Because he was quite deeply in love with this slender, intelligent
woman, he wanted her to be more to him than a dutiful wife and
mother of his children. He loved his new son dearly but was jeal-
ous of the attention she lavished on him. It seemed that she had
little time left for her husband now, that all her love and devo-
tion were given to the child. But these feelings he kept to himself.
When old Seimei shuffled out on the veranda with his news,
Akitada laid down his flute with a regretful glance toward his
young family. “More messengers from Heian-kyo?” he asked,
looking up at the thin white-haired man, who was servant, sec-
retary, healer, and teacher to all of them. “I’m running out of
reasons why we cannot increase the rice taxes and corvee at the
same time. You would think they would know that the men are
needed to work the fields if there is to be a harvest.”
Seimei looked mysterious. “Not this time, sir. These are
really important visitors.”
Tamako’s face lit up. “Important visitors?” Cradling the
baby to her chest, she joined them. “Really? From the capital?
Oh, it must be good news at last.”
“Well, who are they?” Akitada asked, getting to his feet and
brushing the wrinkles out of his second-best silk trousers.
“They did not give me their names, sir. I hope it is good
news. It’s been six months since you finished your tour of duty.
A dreadful winter, especially for your lady.”
I s l a n d o f E x i l e s
7
“It has not been so bad,” Tamako said quickly, but she
hugged the child a little closer and looked at the broken shutters
of their house.
It had been dreadfully hard for them all. Akitada had feared
for their lives, his young wife’s because she was with child, and
Seimei’s because he was old. What had started as a temporary
assignment to take care of legal matters and paperwork for an
absent governor had quickly turned into a nightmare. Akitada
had been only a junior clerk in the ministry of justice when his
stubborn pursuit of a murderer brought him to the notice of a
powerful noble. When his name was put forward for the job in
Echigo, Akitada had been flattered and excited by the distinc-
tion. He had taken his young and pregnant wife to this snow
country, expecting to serve for a few months and then return to
a better position in the capital.
But they had spent a long and bitter winter fighting the
climate and hostility against imperial authority without sup-
port from Heian-kyo, and now they were apparently forgotten.
Another winter loomed, though Akitada had written many let-
ters to ask for his replacement and his back salary, for they were
also nearly destitute by now.
Perhaps, he thought hopefully, his letters had borne result and
they could finally leave this godforsaken place behind forever.
Perhaps a duly appointed governor was about to arrive with his
own staff and take over the duties that had overburdened Akitada.
But even as he clung to this thought, he doubted it. It was very
strange that the visitors had not given Seimei their names.
Akitada glanced at his wife and saw the naked hope in her eyes.
“Oh, Akitada,” she breathed. “Oh, I do hope it is the recall.
Your mother’s letters have been so worrying. She says her health
is poor and that she will die before she sees her grandson.”
Actually, the older Lady Sugawara was an ill-tempered tyrant
who demanded total obedience from her son and everyone else
8
I . J . P a r k e r
in her household. She was at least part of the reason Akitada had
welcomed this assignment. He had thought it would get them
away from his mother long enough to give his marriage a chance.
He said diplomatically, “Yes. It will be good to return to the
old home.”
Seimei cleared his throat. “Sir, the gentlemen seemed very
anxious to speak to you.”
“Such haste after all this time?” Akitada mocked, but he
adjusted his collar, touched his neatly tied topknot, and fol-
lowed Seimei to the tribunal.
“I seated them in your office and served them some
herbal tea,” Seimei told him on the way. “Mint and ginger root
to refresh the mind after a long journey, and a bit of ground-up
iris root to purify the sluggish blood. They seemed out of sorts.”
Seimei’s herbal teas, changed according to the season and
the recipient’s needs, were not the best way to put important
visitors at ease. They tended to be malodorous and bitter to the
tongue, but since the old man believed they promoted good
health and a long life, Akitada and his family submitted to his
concoctions to make him happy.
The tribunal hall was the main building in the provincial
compound. Here the provincial governor held his receptions,
heard court cases, maintained the provincial archives, and con-
ducted the business of the province. Today the hall was empty
and the corridors lay silent. Such peace was a welcome change
after the hectic days of the past winter. Akitada glanced around
the cavernous hall critically. The floors were swept and the
worst holes in the rafters had been closed with new boards, the
repairs paid for from Akitada’s private funds. In the archives his
three clerks were bent over their desks, studiously copying doc-
uments. And in the main courtyard outside he could hear the
voices of his two lieutenants drilling the constables. He hoped
this orderly regimen had impressed his visitors favorably.
I s l a n d o f E x i l e s
9
Seimei flung back the door to his office and announced
proudly, “Lord Sugawara.”
The title was his due, for Akitada was a direct descendant of
the great Sugawara Michizane, but the Sugawaras had fallen on
hard times after his famous ancestor’s exile and death, and his
present status in the world was more than modest. Not only was
he poor and without influence, two serious shortcomings for
which he tried to make up by carrying out his duties to the
letter, but he had managed to irritate his superiors.
Two middle-aged men in ordinary dark travel robes and black
caps sat on the threadbare cushions near Akitada’s scratched and
dented desk. They had to be of considerable rank, for neither
rose at his entrance, merely turning their heads to stare at him
curiously.
One of the men was tall and thin, with a long, yellow-tinged
face which looked vaguely disapproving. His shorter compan-
ion had an unnaturally ruddy complexion and glowered. Aki-
tada’s heart sank, but he reminded himself that they had come a
long way. Exposure to sun and wind during long journeys had
unfortunate effects on the normally pale features of noblemen
and probably also on their temper. And, to judge by their rude-
ness, these two must possess considerable rank and irritability.
Their rank was a problem. Etiquette prescribed that Aki-
tada adjust his greeting to bridge the distance between his own
rank and theirs precisely, but they were complete strangers to
him and neither wore the colors of his rank on his plain black
cap. His heart beating uncomfortably, he decided on a modest
bow to each before taking his seat behind his desk. His visitors’
cool response boded ill.
The shorter man made a face. “Well, you took your time,
Sugawara,” he complained, then waved his hand impatiently at
the waiting Seimei. “What are you standing about for? Leave
us alone.”
10
I . J . P a r k e r
Seimei bowed deeply and backed from the room.
When the door had closed, Akitada said, “Allow me to bid
you both welcome,” and faltered, looking from one forbidding
face to the other. Apparently they resented his casual greeting,
but he was at a loss how to address them.
“Not much of a welcome,” grumbled the short one. “This
tribunal looks a disgrace. The walls are falling down, your con-
stables look like scarecrows, and your stable is unfit for horses.
And what is this poison your senile servant tried to palm off
on us?”
Akitada flushed. “Just some herbal tea. It is considered very
healthful. No doubt Seimei—who is my secretary, by the way—
felt that you might need a restorative after your long journey.”
The short stranger turned down the corners of his mouth.
“He must be demented. Do you drink this stuff?”
Akitada assured him that both he and his family had found
Seimei’s teas most helpful in the past.
“Then you must be demented also.” He turned to the thin
man. “I think we are wasting our time here.”
Akitada was beginning to hope so, too, but the tall man
shook his head. “No. I think not.” His voice was dry and he
barely moved his thin lips when he spoke. “And keep in mind
that we have no choice.” The other man subsided with a frown.
Somehow this was not encouraging. Akitada offered, “Shall
I send for some wine instead?”
“By all means,” said the thin man, with a smile that was
almost jovial. He looked at Akitada with an interest which re-
minded him uncomfortably of a cat eyeing a fat sparrow.
Akitada clapped his hands for Seimei. “Some wine please,
Seimei.”
Seimei removed the full teacups with a little sniff but merci-
fully did not argue the point. When they were alone again, Aki-
tada searched for polite words to ask who his visitors were.
I s l a n d o f E x i l e s
11
“I am afraid,” he began, “that I have not had the pleasure of
meeting . . . Your Excellencies in the capital.” He paused.
His visitors exchanged glances.
The short man said, “It is not necessary for you to know
who we are.”
Stranger and stranger. Akitada decided that this could not
have anything to do with his inadequate administration of the
chaotic affairs in Echigo. Neither, sadly, did it sound as though
they were bringing his release. He cleared his throat nervously.
“May I ask, then, what brings you here?”
The short man said, “In due time. First we have some
questions ourselves. And we have yet to be offered adequate
refreshments.”
Akitada flushed. He was becoming annoyed with their rude-
ness and wished they would get to the point and leave.
They sat in silence until Seimei appeared with a large tray
holding three small pitchers of wine and three cups. They were
unmatched, badly chipped, and of the cheapest clayware. Bow-
ing to each gentleman in turn, Seimei poured wine into a cup,
presented it, and placed the small pitcher before him.
Akitada asked if there were any plum pickles left.
Shaking his head, Seimei offered, “I could slice some fresh
radish from my garden.”
The short man, who had made a face when he tasted
his wine, muttered, “Fresh radish? What does the fool take
us for?”
Akitada bit his lip. Considering their probable rank, their
rudeness to him was one thing, but he was fond of Seimei, who
had been like a father to him and served him still with unfailing
love and devotion. On the other hand, these men were poten-
tially powerful and he could not afford to offend them. He said,
“I regret extremely the poor hospitality. Had we known of your
arrival, we might have prepared more suitable refreshments,
12
I . J . P a r k e r
though this poor province has little with which to please some-
one like yourselves.”
The short man grunted, but the thin one raised his brows,
and Akitada realized that he had not sounded at all deferential.
He fell silent again and waited.
“We have had worse wine on our journey here, Mototsune,”
said the thin man thoughtfully.
The short man smirked. “Once, To.”
Akitada stared at the thin man. He was not certain he had
heard right. To was the title of the emperor’s two first secretaries, the highest position in the sovereign’s private office. Each held the fourth rank. How could a man of such illustrious status be sitting in his office in the ramshackle tribunal of a remote province like Echigo?
“Are you acquainted with the Second Prince?” the thin man
asked him.
The question was unexpected and flustered Akitada even
more, but he managed to nod. The Second Prince was really the
eldest son of the late emperor and had once been crown prince
and emperor-designate. But when he had been in his twenties,
his father had suddenly decided to make another son by a sec-
ondary empress his heir, and Okisada had become the Second
Prince. Angered, he started an intrigue against his much younger
half-brother, and the emperor had punished him by sending
him to Kyushu. Okisada had apologized and been allowed to re-
turn to the capital to live there in powerless comfort and luxury
for the next ten years. Then his father, worried about his health,
had abdicated in favor of Okisada’s half-brother. One of the
court nobles, a Lord Miyoshi, discovered that Okisada was in-
volved in a plot to kill his half-brother and seize the throne. This time his punishment had been permanent exile to Sadoshima,
where he had remained for the past decade.
“Well? Have you lost your voice?” the thin man demanded.
I s l a n d o f E x i l e s
13
“I beg your pardon, Excellency. I was waiting for you to
explain further. I know something of Prince Okisada and once,
when I was a boy, I saw him in passing. He is at present living in
exile on Sadoshima.”
The thin man shook his head. “Incorrect. The prince is
dead. He has been murdered.”
Akitada sat up. This was extraordinary news. A murder of
an imperial prince on the island of exiles? What could be going
on there? Sadoshima was in the Sea of Japan, about twenty
miles north of the coast of Echigo. Exile to Sadoshima was the
most severe form of punishment short of execution. Only very
violent or politically dangerous criminals were sent there. But
what did this have to do with him?
The thin man smiled. “Ah,” he said. “I see we finally have
your attention. You have the reputation of being clever at solv-
ing murders. We want you to go to Sado Island and find out
what happened.”
Akitada’s eyes widened, but he shook his head. “I am sorry,
Excellency, but I have no authority to leave my post. Neither do
I have the power to meddle in the affairs of another province. I
expect Sadoshima’s governor has already begun an investiga-
tion into the crime.”
“Pah! The investigation is tainted. The murderer is Gover-
nor Mutobe’s son.”
“What?” Akitada stared at his mysterious visitor. “Are you
certain, Excellency? Or do you mean that he has only been
accused of the crime?”
The thin man made an impatient gesture. “Accused, arrested,
and up for trial. Apparently the prince was poisoned by some
food the young man provided. The facts are not disputed.”
That was a tricky situation, and Akitada was thoroughly
intrigued, but he said again, “Even so, I regret that I am not able to accede to your request.”
14
I . J . P a r k e r
The short man turned a deeper shade and blustered, “Must
I remind you that you are nothing but a clerk in the ministry of
justice on temporary assignment here?”
Akitada bowed. “That is very true and I regret extremely not
to be able to do as you wish. But my instructions state precisely
that I am to take my orders only from my superior or a repre-
sentative of the emperor.”
They looked at each other. Then the lean gentleman took
some rolled-up documents from his sleeve. As he sorted through
these, Akitada saw the yellow silk ribbons used for imperial doc-
uments and felt his skin crawl. The thin man looked up, saw
Akitada’s expression, and smiled. He unrolled one of the yellow-
ribboned papers partially and displayed the large crimson seal of
the sovereign’s private office. “Do you recognize the seal?”
“Yes, Excellency.” Akitada bowed to touch his forehead to
the desk. Perhaps, he thought, he should prostrate himself, but
he did not quite know how to move from behind the desk and
stretch out on the floor without getting up first. An imperial
seal represented His Majesty, and one never stood before such
an object.
“Good,” commented the thin man. “I assume you are satis-
fied that I have the power to send you to Sado Island?”
Akitada sat back on his heels. “I am afraid not, Excellency. I
do not know you or how you may have come by imperial docu-
ments or what the documents pertain to.”
“Are you calling him a thief and a liar?” cried the short man.
“How dare you?” He turned to his colleague. “You see? That is
what comes of sending unsuitable persons to fill crucial posts in
the provinces. I shall certainly report this impudent fellow’s lack of cooperation to the great council of state.”
Akitada turned cold. Such a thing would surely end his
career.
I s l a n d o f E x i l e s
15
The thin man cleared his throat, then leaned closer to whis-
per something to his companion. The other man still glowered
but nodded reluctantly.
Akitada watched them and wished that this day had never
happened. Nothing good could come from this meeting, no
matter how diplomatic he was with these men. He had no idea
what he was getting into, except that it involved the emperor,
high treason, and murder.
The thin man sorted through his papers again, then passed
a letter to Akitada, who recognized the handwriting. It was
from Soga Ietada, minister of justice and Akitada’s immediate
superior. The letter appeared to answer some question about
Akitada’s background. Soga had written, “Sugawara, a junior
clerk in our archives, performed his simple duties adequately,
though without enthusiasm. He has a regrettable and obstinate