Текст книги "The Masuda Affair "

Автор книги: Ingrid J. Parker

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Текущая страница: 18 (всего у книги 21 страниц)

TWENTY-ONE

Lady Saisho

Akitada went to tell his wife about Tora’s news. She listened, interrupted a few times to ask a question, but did not offer any comments until he was done. ‘Oh, that poor, poor young woman,’ she murmured. ‘Rejected by everyone. And the boy. You must bring him to us, Akitada, whatever happens. We cannot let him down again.’ Bypassing Tora’s exciting tale of monks and murder, she had gone straight to what mattered most to her: the lost child.

He nodded reluctantly. ‘Yes, I suppose so.’

Her eyes widened at his tone. ‘I thought you were quite determined. Have you changed your mind?’

How could he admit his selfishness to her? ‘My efforts have been grossly misinterpreted,’ he said evasively.

‘But that is nonsense. You cared for the child because your heart is kind.’

‘No, Tamako,’ he said bitterly. ‘I was not kind. I was lonely and behaved like a spoiled child who wanted an expensive toy. I was going to buy him. Now all our funds are gone, and so is my career. And the child doesn’t even like me.’

He knew he had sounded petulant and started to leave, but Tamako caught his sleeve. ‘No. You’re wrong. You missed Yori and wanted someone to love again. I, too—’ She took his hand and begged, ‘Can we not try together to accept what happened?’

Akitada had no words, but he squeezed her hand and nodded.

She said, ‘It helps to reach out when we stumble.’

Emotion choked Akitada. He made an effort and managed to say quite steadily, ‘Yes, well, I’ve certainly fallen down many times on this case. But remember, if the child is really the son of Peony and Masuda, he has a family. Though it may be impossible to prove it, now the maid is dead and Mrs Ishikawa has been spirited away by her son.’

‘Mrs Ishikawa is the key. Tora said her son expects to marry Sadanori’s daughter.’

A misalliance, if ever there was one. ‘It’s hardly likely that Sadanori would agree.’

‘He might if he were forced to,’ insisted Tamako.

‘Sadanori is very secure in his position at court. Besides, I don’t see a man like Sadanori taking such risks. Seduction and abduction, even rape of women from the amusement quarter, are more in his line. Nobody pays attention to a man’s sexual peccadilloes.’ But that was not entirely true. He, Akitada, was under sharp scrutiny at this moment for sexual misconduct. However, he was hardly of Sadanori’s rank and connections.

‘What do you think?’ asked Tamako.

‘I don’t know what to think. Ishikawa is repulsive, but I’ve never thought him capable of murder. When he cornered me six years ago at the university, he could have killed me, but he intended only a beating.’ Akitada would always feel a remnant of sympathy for the handsome and brilliant student whose ambition and poverty had led him into crime.

‘We must find Mrs Ishikawa.’

‘Yes. You’re quite right. I’m on my way to speak to Sadanori. After that we’ll know better how to proceed.’ Akitada rose with new energy. ‘Thank you. You’ve been most helpful.’

Tamako gave him a trembling smile.

Akitada changed into his second-best silk robe and clean silk trousers before calling on the great lord. At the Sadanori compound, Akitada checked the gate for begging monks, but saw none.

Fujiwara Sadanori received him formally in the main house. The reception hall was lit by several candles on tall stands. Sadanori sat on a cushion on a thick grass mat, one elbow on a lacquered armrest and a go board by his side as if he had been interrupted in a game against himself. He returned Akitada’s bow, calculated carefully to be just less than polite, and gestured to another cushion.

‘Have I had the pleasure?’ he asked with the vagueness of a great man who cannot be expected to remember those who seek his favor every day, but his eyes were watchful.

‘No, sir.’ Akitada made no attempt to add the customary flattery, and the watchful eyes sharpened.

Sadanori was in his early forties and slightly corpulent. He had a round, smooth-shaven face with thin lips that turned downwards when he was not smiling. He was not smiling now. ‘In that case, perhaps you will be brief. I am very busy.’

‘Yes, I see. Briefly then: one of the women in my household claims that you had her abducted and confined in a house in the Gojibomon quarter. She managed to escape the day after the abduction. I found the story difficult to believe and came to verify the matter.’

Sadanori was clearly startled, but then his face cleared. He said coldly, ‘An extraordinary story. I wonder you troubled to come here.’

‘Her name is Hanae. She used to be a dancer in the Willow Quarter. I believe you know her?’

Sadanori laughed. ‘Did you buy the girl? My compliments. She is a charmer, though I found her less than accommodating myself.’

Akitada corrected him. ‘I did not buy her. She is the wife of one of my retainers. Perhaps you might care to answer my question.’

The other man snapped, ‘I don’t like your tone. And I certainly have no intention of answering rude and ridiculous questions.’

‘You just admitted to knowing Hanae well enough to have made her an offer of sorts, and I believe you own the house she was taken to.’

Sadanori’s hands clenched. ‘I have nothing to say to you,’ he said. ‘This visit was ill-advised.’

‘I have seen the house myself and thought it perfectly suited for a concubine,’ remarked Akitada, making no move to leave. ‘I was particularly struck by the theme of the decoration. Peonies. Wasn’t there a first-class courtesan called “Peony” a few years ago? Her sudden disappearance raised many eyebrows.’

Sadanori jumped up and pointed a shaking finger at Akitada. ‘Get out!’ he shouted. ‘How dare you – you, a man who plays with little boys. Aren’t you in enough trouble already?’

Akitada rose with a smile. Sadanori had been involved with Peony – deeply involved, to judge by this outburst – and he had known all along who Akitada was and why he had come. In fact, Akitada now suspected that Sadanori had been behind his troubles with the chancellor. He would have liked to pursue the matter, but Sadanori’s raised voice had brought the servants, and so he bowed and left.

When he got home, he found Tamako dressed for travel. She greeted him with the news that she wished him to go to Otsu with her.

Akitada gaped at his wife. Tamako had withdrawn so completely from all outside interests after Yori’s death that this new forthright demand startled him. She used to have a mind of her own, charmingly most of the time and irritatingly so when they had first begun to quarrel, but she had never taken matters into her own hands and issued commands to her husband.

‘A … a delightful offer,’ he stammered helplessly, because he did not want to destroy their hard-won reconciliation, ‘but there is another urgent matter.’

She gave him a questioning look.

‘Sadanori. Tora was quite right to suspect him. We must find Ishikawa’s mother and find her quickly.’

Tamako frowned. ‘Is she in danger?’

‘Perhaps, though I don’t think Ishikawa would kill his own mother. More importantly, Sadanori knows that I suspect him.’

Tamako protested, ‘But no one seems to know where she is. Surely you won’t be searching the temples for her?’

Since this had crossed his mind, Akitada said defensively, ‘I thought Tora and I could visit a few near the capital. Most likely she would leave an offering, and those are recorded. We would eventually catch up with her.’

Tamako shook her head. ‘I think getting the child is more important.’

Her sudden, high-handed decision dismayed Akitada, but he called Tora, who arrived looking more rested and cheerful, and explained the situation to him.

Tora glanced from Akitada to Tamako, saw the firm set of his lady’s chin, and said, ‘I bet Ishikawa’s taken his old lady to Uji, to Sadanori’s mother.’

‘To Uji?’ Akitada considered this. ‘By heaven, yes. Why didn’t I think of that?’

‘He has taken his mother to Lady Saisho?’ Tamako asked. ‘But why?’

‘He thinks we won’t look there.’ The more Akitada thought about it, the better he liked it. ‘Tora, you’ve outdone yourself. I should have realized that the pilgrimage story was meant to throw us off the track.’

Tora grinned complacently.

‘We can go to Otsu via Uji,’ Tamako decided. ‘It will make a pleasant journey.’

Akitada agreed meekly.

Uji had long been the refuge of the wealthy and powerful from the hectic life of the capital. The air was clean and pine-scented, and the sun glinted off the burbling waters and gilded the trees. Here and there, a maple already showed the first touch of red, and birds seemed to sing more loudly, perhaps to compete with the roar of the river.

At Lady Saisho’s house, Tamako dismounted before Akitada could assist her and ran to admire the view of the river gorge.

Tora said, ‘It’s not like this at night, sir. It’s dark as hell itself, and that noise gives you gooseflesh. You can’t hear what’s creeping up on you. You couldn’t pay me to live here.’

Akitada watched Tamako. ‘Yours is not a poetic soul, Tora,’ he said. ‘You probably only thought of demons and specters.’

Since this was true, Tora did not answer. Instead he belabored the gate.

Akitada found another reason to be grateful for his wife’s presence. The servant at first refused to admit them, but upon being informed that Lady Sugawara was of the party, he disappeared for instructions. He returned to take Tamako and Akitada to Lady Saisho’s pavilion.

There, the sun slanted in through the open veranda doors and the sound of the river filled the room. Paintings of picturesque trees and rocks, waterfalls, river bends, and steep cliffs mirrored the scenery outside.

Lady Saisho was elegantly and elaborately gowned in multicolored silks and brocade. She had not bothered with screens and was with Mrs Ishikawa, who sat beside her in her customary black and with a distinctly nervous look on her plain face.

Akitada had not met Sadanori’s mother before, but he knew that she had been lady-in-waiting to the emperor’s mother until her marriage to Sadanori’s father. She was still very handsome, though her long hair was white. She studied Akitada and Tamako as she made polite conversation.

Tamako pleased her by praising the view and reciting softly some famous lines from the novel Genji.

Lady Saisho smiled. ‘Yes, I dearly love this place and find the river’s sound soothing, but Lady Murasaki’s hero was troubled by it, I think. There are those who cannot bear the unceasing roar. They claim it is so deafening they cannot sleep.’ She glanced at Mrs Ishikawa, whose face reddened.

Akitada, impatient with pleasantries, said quickly, ‘Mrs Ishikawa and I are acquainted, and I am very glad to find her here. I tried in vain to speak to her a few days ago in Otsu.’

Mrs Ishikawa’s hands clenched, but Lady Saisho was interested. ‘Really? How very auspicious your visit was in that case. Would you like some privacy?’

‘Not at all. I only have a small favor to ask.’ Akitada smiled pleasantly at the ladies. Mrs Ishikawa’s hands relaxed slightly. ‘It concerns a little boy I found near Otsu. He has lost his voice and cannot speak for himself. I’ve been trying to find his family and think he may be the son of a dead woman who had ties to the Masuda family. If so, Mrs Ishikawa can identify the child.’

Mrs Ishikawa cried, ‘Oh, no, I couldn’t. I know nothing of the child. I cannot speak about the matter.’

This astonished Lady Saisho. ‘My dear,’ she said, ‘calm yourself and allow Lord Sugawara to explain. We must try to assist him.’

Akitada told about finding the child, and Lady Saisho was enchanted. Oh, the poor boy. What a very moving tale!’ She turned to Mrs Ishikawa. ‘Why were you told not to speak about this?’

‘I … I m-made a mistake,’ Mrs Ishikawa gasped. ‘It had nothing to do with that boy.’

She was not a good liar.

‘I think,’ said Akitada, ‘that the senior lady of the Masuda household did not wish the name of the boy’s mother mentioned. Her name was Peony, and she was a former courtesan from the capital. Lady Masuda’s young husband kept her in the lake villa.’ He paused. ‘Peony was quite famous in her former life.’

Lady Saisho stared at him. ‘Peony was in Otsu? How old is this child?’

‘I guessed about five, but Mrs Ishikawa will know more precisely.’

They all looked at her. She flushed and cried again, ‘I know nothing. Why ask me? I told you it’s all a mistake. It has nothing to do with me.’

But Lady Saisho grasped Mrs Ishikawa’s arm so firmly that she winced. ‘I think not, my dear,’ she said sharply. ‘You must tell us what you know about this. My son had a connection with this woman. He searched for her for many years.’

Mrs Ishikawa whimpered, ‘My Lady, don’t ask me. Your son would not want to know.’ She burst into a torrent of tears and rushed from the room.

Lady Saisho compressed her lips and turned to Akitada. ‘You must leave this matter to me. She is too upset to talk now. Perhaps you can come back later?’ Akitada hesitated. Leaving the two women at this point was risky. Lady Saisho pleaded, ‘I give you my word that you shall have your answer.’

He rose and helped his wife up. ‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘Please forgive my troubling you with this. We’re on our way to Otsu to get the child and will return this way tomorrow.’

Lady Saisho nodded eagerly. ‘Yes, that is an excellent idea. Please do. I would very much like to see the boy myself

Outside, Akitada helped his wife on her horse. Tamako said, ‘Lady Saisho seems to believe she has found a grandson. Is she short of grandchildren?’

‘Perhaps,’ said Akitada. ‘Sadanori has only a grown daughter, I think.’

They reached Otsu at sunset. To Akitada’s dismay, Tamako insisted on spending the night in the inn where he had been arrested.

The oily host was visibly taken aback when he saw them arrive together. No doubt he was wondering why a man who had preferred the company of small boys in his bed would reappear with a grown woman in tow.

Akitada snapped, ‘Don’t stand there gawking. I need lodging for myself, my wife, and my servant.’ Then he saw a dilemma. Tamako would want her privacy.

Tamako clarified, ‘One large room for my husband and myself, and a smaller one for a retainer.’

The host bowed. He pushed the register across for Akitada to sign and stared at Tamako.

‘Mind your manners,’ snapped Akitada. Turning to Tora, he said, ‘You’d better see the warden and also ask around town in case Ishikawa is here. I don’t feel at all easy about not knowing what he’s up to.’

‘As for us,’ Tamako said briskly when Tora had left, ‘what shall we do first?’

They spent an agreeable evening wandering around Otsu so that Tamako could see the courtesan’s house and the Masuda mansion on the hill. They paid brief visits to Warden Takechi and Judge Nakano, and Tamako managed to charm both men. The judge gave permission for the boy’s visit to the capital.

Then they went to Mrs Yozaemon’s. She was outside with Nori, feeding her chickens. The boy clung to her skirt when he saw Akitada. She invited them into her house, finding cushions and something to drink and eat while telling Tamako how Akitada had saved her son from the false charge.

Tamako smiled at Nori, but the boy did not smile back. Akitada said gently, ‘The lady is my wife. I told her about you, and she wanted to meet you.’

Tamako said, ‘I used to have a little boy just like you, Nori. He was four years old when he died. How old are you?’

The boy held up a hand, five fingers extended.

Tamako nodded. ‘Five. I thought so. We still have some of Yori’s toys. Would you like to come for a visit and play with them?’

A visit? To play with his son’s toys? Akitada was confused, but when the boy looked at him, he rallied and said, ‘We would be very happy if you paid us a visit.’

Nori went to clutch Mrs Yozaemon’s skirt.

‘He’s very shy,’ she apologized, stroking his hair.

‘Well,’ said Tamako, ‘we’ll come back tomorrow. Then, if he changes his mind, he can ride back with us.’ She said to the boy, ‘We have horses, and we’d go back along the river where the fishermen catch fish with cormorants. Would you like to see that?’ The child released his hold on Mrs Yozaemon’s skirt. Tamako smiled. ‘And then we’ll go on to the capital. You could see the emperor’s palace and see the guard exercising their horses and practicing with bows and arrows. And Cook would take you to the market. The market there is much bigger than here. They have all sorts of entertainers and storytellers in the capital. And many animals are for sale. Cats, and dogs, and birds in cages. Even fish and singing crickets.’

The boy’s eyes flew to Akitada again. Perhaps he recalled their visit to the Otsu market. Some of the resentment faded from his expression. Akitada admired Tamako’s skill and offered, ‘There’s a cat at our house,’ suppressing a twinge of guilt about Tora’s dog.

The small face lit up. He came to stand between them. Looking from one to the other, he nodded with great solemnity.

‘He loves cats,’ said Mrs Yozaemon, clapping her hands. ‘What a nice time you’ll have, Nori.’

Night was falling when they returned to the inn. Tora was waiting for them. ‘No sign of Ishikawa,’ he said glumly.

Akitada shook his head. ‘I don’t like it. I’m worried about those women in Uji, especially now that his mother is aware of our suspicions. I think you should ride back there and keep an eye on the house.’

‘Tonight?’

Seeing Tora’s shock, Akitada relented. ‘Well, I suppose it can wait till morning, but leave at daybreak. We’ll follow later with the boy’

They parted. Akitada walked close to his wife so he could catch a trace of the orange-blossom fragrance and brush her arm casually. He was intensely aware of her, and his heart was beating faster with hope. Would she allow him to make love to her? He thought he could not bear it if she rejected him again, after all this time, when he wanted her so much. He stole a sideways glance at her face. How could he ever have forgotten how beautiful his wife was? And as he thought it, he saw her blushing.

‘The bath is ready, sir, madam,’ announced the inn’s nosy maid and waited to see what they would do next.

‘Thank you,’ Tamako said. ‘We’ll find our way.’

‘Would madam like me to assist?’

‘No. My husband will assist me.’

The maid giggled and left.

Akitada looked at Tamako and murmured, ‘I shall enjoy that.’

The corners of her mouth twitched. ‘Shall you?’

‘Oh, yes. Let’s hurry,’ he murmured into her ear.

Making love can take circuitous routes. Caresses are exchanged under the guise of untying a sash or removing silk socks for the other person, and it is only natural to help scrub a back or rinse it with a bucket of warm water. Such moments allow a man to admire his wife’s body, and a wife to touch her husband while being merely helpful.

When they returned to their room, they found their bedding spread and food waiting. For all they knew it was delicious, but they were not hungry for food.

Much later, Akitada dozed off with his sleeping wife in his arms and a smile of complete happiness on his face.

TWENTY-TWO

The Deadly River Gorge

Tora arrived back at Lady Saisho’s house early the following morning. He had left while it was still dark and ridden as fast as he could without breaking his horse’s legs.

The house lay silent in the gray dawn amid the roaring of the waters and eerie drifts of mist rising from the river.

He was worried. Nothing had prevented the women from setting out for the capital to warn Sadanori and Ishikawa. He decided to make sure. After tying up his horse a little distance from the house, he walked along the fence to the back where Lady Saisho’s rooms overlooked the river gorge. Worrying about waking the dog brought back unhappy memories of Trouble.

At the corner, he turned and followed a narrow footpath along a steep wooded slope until both fence and path ended at the cliff edge. There, he looked up at the house. He saw the moon-viewing platform outside Lady Saisho’s room only twenty feet away, but the ground was treacherous with loose rocks, and below the river tumbled through a gorge so deep that it was impenetrable mist and noise. The very air above it seemed to suck at his body. He eased around the fence.

The thought of setting off a rock slide and plunging into the gaping darkness far below made him shudder. He began to crawl upward on his hands and knees. He had almost reached the platform, and could make out the dim light of a candle burning inside behind the closed blinds, when noise reached his ears. It was muffled by the roaring waters, but he thought he heard shouts and the dog barking. He reached the veranda and stood up.

Two women’s shadows moved behind the blinds. Breathing a sigh of relief, Tora hoisted himself up on the veranda. The boards were slick with dew and treacherous, but he was not going back.

A third shadow appeared inside, a man who knelt and bowed. A servant or messenger? Tora crept up to the blinds and put his eye to a crack and suppressed a gasp. The face that had appeared for a moment was the face of Ishikawa. Then he heard voices.

‘What is this? What do you want here at this hour?’ Lady Saisho sounded angry.

Ishikawa said, ‘Begging your pardon, My Lady, but my master was concerned about your safety. And I just heard from Seijiro that you had visitors.’

‘What is that to you or my son?’

‘Your son has reason to suspect that Lord Sugawara is plotting against him.’

Mrs Ishikawa cried, ‘Oh, son, you’re not in trouble again?’

‘Nonsense, Mother.’ Ishikawa’s voice was harsh. ‘Beware of your rash tongue and remember the two noble houses we serve. Foolish words can do much harm.’

Lady Sadanori snapped, ‘You will not speak that way to your mother in my presence. She is upset enough with your behavior. We are safe, and you may leave.’

‘I’m sorry, My Lady. Seijiro says that Lord Sugawara’s party is planning to return. It will be best if he finds you gone. You may gather a few things and return with me to the capital. Seijiro is getting the sedan chair ready.’

Tora cursed softly. He wondered how many men Ishikawa had with him.

Lady Saisho broke the short silence with an outraged: ‘How dare you tell me what to do? I’m not going anywhere!’

Tora relaxed a little and wondered how Ishikawa would manage that one. He was beginning to like Sadanori’s mother.

Ishikawa muttered something under his breath. ‘We’re wasting time,’ he said. ‘I have my orders. You must get dressed or you’ll leave in your nightclothes.’

Mrs Ishikawa whimpered. ‘Son, you mustn’t speak that way to Her Ladyship. It isn’t proper.’

‘You will have to tie me up then,’ snapped Lady Saisho, ‘for I will not go.’

Ishikawa’s voice sounded desperate. ‘You must. Your son’s life is at stake.’

Lady Saisho snorted. ‘Ridiculous. I shall see you dismissed for this.’

Mrs Ishikawa burst into tears and rushed to her son. He pushed her aside, saying harshly, ‘Get her ready, Mother. You’re both leaving now. It’s a fine thing when women set their minds against men.’

‘You’re nothing but a servant, Ishikawa.’ Lady Saisho folded her arms and turned her back on him.

Outside, Tora considered. If he burst in on the scene, he might well find himself surrounded by Ishikawa’s people and killed. That would not serve anyone. On the other hand, Ishikawa would prevail over Lady Saisho. He sounded determined enough. In that case, he, Tora, could do nothing but trail them to the capital.

He turned to cast an uneasy glance at the gorge gaping below, when he heard a woman’s cry of pain.

Inside, behind the blinds, two figures were struggling; the third rushed to help and was flung aside so violently that she came stumbling through the blind, slipped on the boards, and fell. It was Mrs Ishikawa.

Lady Saisho cried for help, and Tora made up his mind. He flung aside the torn blind and jumped into the room.

Ishikawa had hold of Lady Saisho – in her night robe and with her white hair hanging loose.

‘Let her go,’ Tora growled.

They stared at him. Ishikawa released the old lady and reached for his sword.

Tora’s own sword was tied to the saddle of his horse. He crouched, his eyes on Ishikawa.

Lady Saisho said, ‘Put away that weapon, Ishikawa! How dare you bring a sword into my quarters?’ When Ishikawa ignored her, she raised her voice. ‘Seijiro!’

Ishikawa laughed. ‘Seijiro isn’t coming.’

But Seijiro did come. He slunk in nervously behind a couple of frightened maids, who burst into the room to clutch at Lady Saisho.

Tora decided Ishikawa was alone. ‘Don’t be a fool,’ he said. ‘Why kill more people?’

Ishikawa called to Seijiro, ‘He’s a robber. Grab him.’

Seijiro took a step forward.

‘No.’ Lady Saisho shook off the two maids. ‘Ishikawa’s gone mad, Seijiro,’ she said. ‘Disarm him and lock him up until we can send for my son.’

Seijiro blinked and stopped in indecision.

Tora said, ‘Ishikawa’s wanted for murder.’

Ishikawa laughed. ‘Yes, yours.’ He started forward. ‘You won’t live to repeat your slander.’

The tall candles flickered and spattered in the draft from the torn blind. Tora risked a glance, but this was a lady’s room and contained no convenient weapons. The maids whimpered, and behind him, Mrs Ishikawa sobbed her heart out. Tora shivered. The current of air carried the musty smell of rotting things – the rank breath of the gorge. He feared having his back to it and moved away from the door.

Lady Saisho said, ‘Only a coward would cut down an unarmed man.’

Ishikawa shot her a venomous glance. ‘A gentleman does not cross swords with scum.’

Tora ignored the slur in the supreme confidence that he was a soldier and Ishikawa was not. Even an unarmed man could win against an inexperienced fighter, and this Ishikawa was a coward as well, as Lady Saisho had pointed out. Though he held a sword, the former student hesitated, not sure how to proceed. It was a great deal easier to strike an old man down when his back was turned than to use an unfamiliar sword against a young and alert adversary. Tora kept his eyes on Ishikawa’s sword hand and waited.

Mrs Ishikawa scrabbled on the veranda behind him, and Ishikawa’s hand tightened its grip. The next moment, he lunged at Tora. Tora spun away easily, catching Ishikawa’s sword arm with his left hand and jerking it. Ishikawa gasped, stumbled, and fell to his knees.

Short and sweet, Tora thought, and twisted the sword from Ishikawa’s hand. He was about to put its point against the other man’s neck, when the women screamed, and a heavy weight hit his back, pitching him forward to the floor. He landed on his chin, jarring his teeth and nearly knocking himself out. Half dazed, he realized that Ishikawa’s mother had come from behind and flung herself on him. She was clawing at his throat and head, and he was about to throw her off when someone stepped hard on his hand. He lost his grip on Ishikawa’s sword as pain shot up his arm, but the pain cleared his head. With a curse, he tossed the woman off and rolled away. He heard rather than saw the blade strike the boards near his shoulder and rolled again until he came up against a wall. The room seemed filled with movement and noise, but he focused on Ishikawa. When the sword hissed down again, he flung himself forward and grabbed for Ishikawa’s legs. Ishikawa skipped away, but his sword had missed.

Tora managed to get to his feet and put some distance between himself and his attacker. He was still a little dizzy and his hand throbbed, but he no longer had the river gorge behind his back. Ishikawa was now about ten feet away, his face contorted with rage.

His mother cowered on the floor, her mouth open in mute fear. The others huddled in a corner, Seijiro standing in front of Lady Saisho, and the maids cowering behind. The fight was between him and Ishikawa – and possibly that vicious mother of his.

Ishikawa laughed. He had found his courage at last. ‘Look who’s the coward now,’ he cried. ‘I think I’ll kill you slowly. One cut at a time. Like this.’ He darted for Tora with the quickness of a snake and struck at his thigh. Tora felt the blade sear his skin as he jumped out of the way. He was now close to the women’s bedding and risked getting tangled in it, but his move had taken Ishikawa towards the platform. He danced about a little, then feinted again. Tora, cursing the other man’s agility, jumped aside again, too far this time, so that he slipped on a silk quilt and almost fell.

Ishikawa laughed again, and so – horribly – did his mother.

Tora’s patience was gone. Scooping up the quilt, he flung it at Ishikawa’s face, then made a grab for one of the tall candlesticks. The candle fell and rolled away, but the candlestick was iron, and the moment he held it in his throbbing hand, he was filled with enough fury to kill.

Ishikawa was fighting free of the quilt, slashing about with his sword. His mother rushed to help him. Tora heard her scream and saw her fall, but Ishikawa was free and attacked. Tora deflected the sword with the candlestick. The blade clanged and jumped away, and he pressed forward immediately, swinging the iron candleholder at Ishikawa’s head. He saw fear on Ishikawa’s face as he backed away. Tora pursued, forcing him through the blind and out on to the platform.

There, with the river roaring below him, Ishikawa panicked. He rushed forward, slashing wildly, across boards that were too wet and slick for that sort of footwork. He slipped, tried to catch his balance, skidded, and fell over the edge of the veranda to sprawl on the rocks.

Tora followed more carefully. He stepped down from the platform and went across the stones towards the fallen man.

Ishikawa got up on his hands and knees and scrambled up the loose rocks.

Tora saw disaster coming and froze in place.

The rocks began to slide towards the edge – slowly at first, then faster – taking Ishikawa with them.

Ishikawa let go of his sword and scrabbled for something, anything, to hold on to. There was nothing. Tora flung himself down and stretched out an arm. Terror in his rolling eyes, Ishikawa reached for it, but the distance was too great. He made a desperate effort and loosened more stones beneath him, slipping downward towards the edge of the cliff. An ominous rumble began and gained in volume. The rock slide gathered momentum, and Tora flattened himself against the hillside.