Текст книги "The Masuda Affair "

Автор книги: Ingrid J. Parker

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Текущая страница: 19 (всего у книги 21 страниц)

He lay still and prayed. Through the rumbling, he heard Ishikawa scream once, shrilly, as he plunged over the edge. His wail faded away among the boiling mists of the gorge. The shifting stones slowed to a trickle. Then all was silent.

Tora raised his head. He was alone. Cautiously, he crept back up the hill until he reached the corner support of the platform. He was shaking so badly that he could not pull himself up right away.

Slowly, his relief at being alive gave way to the realization that his master would not approve of this night’s work.

Nori seemed to enjoy the trip. There was no cormorant fishing in the daytime, but they stopped to see the birds and boats and all the paraphernalia that were used for it.

This pleasant mood changed abruptly when they reached Lady Saisho’s. Akitada halted when he saw the gates standing wide open. He passed the child to Tamako, told her to wait outside, then drew his sword and rode in.

The corpse of a broken man lay in the middle of the yard in a puddle of blood and water, and Tora stepped down from the veranda where he had been sitting. Akitada heaved a sigh of relief, put away his sword, and looked at the body more closely.

‘Ishikawa,’ said Tora unnecessarily. ‘We fished him out of the river after sunrise.’

‘What happened?’

Tora gave him a brief outline of the night’s events.

‘And the women?’

‘His mother’s hurt. He caught her with his sword.’

Tamako, with Nori, came up to the gate and peered in. Akitada went back to explain. She nodded. ‘Don’t look, Nori,’ she said to the boy. ‘There has been an accident, but it does not concern us.’

Akitada said nothing; the ‘Accident’ concerned the child very much indeed. He wondered what new complications the unexpected death of their prime suspect would bring to the case.

They dismounted at the steps to the villa. Akitada led them up and into the reception area, where he clapped his hands and shouted for the servant.

A pale-faced Seijiro appeared and bowed. ‘My lady expects you, sir.’ He led them to the same pavilion where Lady Saisho had received them the day before. Lady Saisho herself slid the door back.

Akitada’s eyes scanned the room. The torn blind to the outside was lowered. Filtered sunlight fell on a floor that still showed traces of bloodstains. In a corner lay a swaddled shape under a layer of quilts. The boy clutched Akitada’s hand.

‘Thank heaven you are in time,’ Lady Saisho said. ‘She is very weak.’ Her eyes went to the child. ‘Oh, he is a handsome child. Are you sure he cannot speak?’

Akitada nodded.

‘Well,’ said Lady Saisho, ‘we shall know more in a moment. Come.’ She led them to the swaddled shape and lifted a corner of the quilt. Mrs Ishikawa lay on her back with her head supported by a wooden neck rest. Only her face and her hands showed. They were almost as white as snow, and her skin seemed transparent. Though her eyes were closed, Akitada guessed from the set of her lips that she was conscious and in pain.

Tamako came to kneel beside her. ‘Mrs Ishikawa?’ she asked, reaching for a frail hand. ‘Can you hear me?’ There was no response, and Tamako looked up at Lady Saisho. ‘Has a physician been called?’

‘Yes, but … she lost so much blood. She is very weak. Look.’ Lady Saisho moved forward. For a moment the two women bent over Mrs Ishikawa and Akitada could see nothing. They lifted the quilt, looked, and then replaced it.

When Lady Saisho stepped aside, Akitada saw that Tamako was very pale. She glanced up at him and shook her head slightly.

Feeling bitterly disappointed, Akitada turned to take the boy away. Once again, he had come too late.

But Lady Saisho said, ‘Wait.’ She bent over Mrs Ishikawa again. ‘Listen to me,’ she said quite sternly. ‘You are dying. I’m very sorry for it, but you must be told. You have a chance to make good an evil that will otherwise destroy you and your son in the other world.’

Tamako bit her lip, and Akitada felt slightly sickened, though he knew the need for the speech. He took the boy back to the dying woman.

Lady Saisho commanded, ‘Open your eyes and look at this child.’

The thin lids fluttered and Mrs Ishikawa looked up at her. ‘My son?’ she whispered, and tears seeped from the corners of her eyes.

‘He is dead. What you say cannot hurt him any longer.’ Lady Saisho was matter-of-fact. ‘Look at this boy, and tell me if he is the child of the woman Peony.’

‘I must not tell.’

Lady Saisho gripped the other woman’s shoulder. ‘You must. There is no more time.’

Tamako half rose and protested, Oh, please don’t.’

Mrs Ishikawa’s eyes flicked to her. Then she turned her head slightly, letting her eyes pass over Akitada to the boy. She looked at him for a long moment. Then she turned her head away and nodded. ‘Yes. That is Peony’s son.’

‘Ah.’ Lady Saisho rose, her face alight with triumph.

Akitada passed the boy to Tamako, who took him from the room. He said, ‘It proves only that the child’s mother was Peony.’

Mrs Ishikawa was on the point of death. Her breath rattled ominously. Akitada bent over her. ‘Mrs Ishikawa,’ he said, ‘forgive me for troubling you, but did you take some food, gruel perhaps, to Peony’s house when young Lord Masuda was ill?’

The rattling in her throat stopped. She opened her eyes and raised her head. ‘I didn’t know,’ she gasped. ‘The gruel. I didn’t know.’ Her black eyes bored into his.

Akitada nodded. ‘Yes, I’m afraid it was poisoned.’

‘Oh!’ She wailed and flung her head back so violently that the wooden neck rest tipped and her head hit the floor.

Lady Saisho cried, ‘What are you doing? She has said all that matters.’

‘There is still the matter of murder,’ Akitada said. ‘Young Masuda died of poison, and Mrs Ishikawa took it to him.’ He knelt and lifted the dying woman’s head on his knee.

Lady Saisho gasped. ‘She murdered him?’

‘No, I think her son used her.’

Mrs Ishikawa flailed weakly. The awful rattling began again. Her convulsion must have opened her wound because fresh blood was seeping from beneath the quilt. But she lay still now, her head on Akitada’s knee, tears welling from her eyes.

‘It was your son who sent you with the gruel, wasn’t it?’ Akitada asked softly.

She looked up at him and opened her mouth, perhaps to answer or to wail again, but all she managed was a harsh gurgle. Her stare became fixed and her jaw sagged. A thin trickle of saliva seeped from the corner of her mouth.

Akitada felt her neck and found no pulse. He placed her head back on the floor and got up. ‘She is dead,’ he said.

‘Why do you look at me that way?’ demanded Lady Saisho. ‘It is not my fault she died. Her own son killed her.’

‘I was told it was an accident.’

‘You were not here. The man was deranged. He broke into my quarters and attacked both of us. He tried to kill your man, but he wounded his mother instead. We are well rid of such a man.’

Akitada controlled himself and said, ‘We shall leave now. I regret extremely this upsetting experience for the child. Unfortunately, it was necessary.’

‘No. The child must stay. My son will be here shortly’

‘I shall speak to Lord Sadanori another time.’

She barred his way. ‘You cannot take my grandson away. I forbid it.’

Akitada suddenly felt pity instead of anger. ‘Does your son have other children?’

‘A grown daughter only. That is why …’ She broke off. ‘The boy is his. He must be. Sadanori looked just like him at that age.’

‘He is most likely young Masuda’s son.’

‘No. Never.’

‘I am truly sorry.’

She was silent for a moment. Then she said, ‘You must prove that he is ours. They say you are clever. When you find the proof, I will pay you well and Sadanori will advance you at court. He is the chancellor’s cousin and can raise you far beyond your dreams.’

Akitada bowed and walked out.

TWENTY-THREE

Trouble Returns

Akitada blamed himself for putting the child through a confrontation with the dying woman. Tora was also unhappy. Akitada thought his gloom was due to having inadvertently caused two deaths, but Tora seemed cool enough about the Ishikawas.

‘I wish the bastard had confessed first,’ Tora muttered. ‘Now you’ve only got his mother’s word about the poisoning. And you say she never blamed it on him.’

‘No. But then she was his mother and she loved him. Having a child means protecting him, come what may.’

They were riding homeward, and he glanced over at Tamako and Nori. His wife’s arms held the boy securely, and her head was bent to his. She seemed to be chatting, and the child smiled up at her. His heart warmed, but he feared that she might become too attached.

His own recent efforts at detachment made him see the child’s situation in a new light. The tangled lines of the troubled history of two families formed a tight knot, and Nori was at its center. The child had at least part of the answer, and Akitada wished he could speak. Perhaps he was as callous as Lady Saisho, but he wanted answers. Human obsessions, his own as much as those of the Masudas and of Sadanori and Ishikawa, had been responsible for the confusion and eventual disaster.

However, his comment about mothers’ love had cheered Tora, who broke into Akitada’s thoughts with: ‘Hanae thinks we’ll have a boy.’

Akitada smiled. ‘Women know such things.’ He looked over at his wife and said, ‘I am deeply in your debt, Tamako. Thank you for your help.’ ‘What help?’

‘For coming with me to Otsu. For your wise counsel. And for your patience and forgiveness.’

She blinked and looked away. ‘Oh, Akitada, it was nothing,’ she murmured.

‘I’m sorry about the scene at Uji. If I’d taken the right steps earlier, I could have spared you that.’

She said earnestly, ‘You must stop blaming yourself for everything. It’s one thing to set things right for other people, and quite another to take on everyone’s burdens.’

‘I have been a fool, and look where it got me.’

‘Nonsense. This is no worse than our usual predicaments.’

And that made him laugh.

They reached home at dusk and were greeted by the sound of barking. Tora gave a joyful whoop. ‘I’d know that bark anywhere.’ He pounded on the gate. ‘Trouble!’

Inside, the dog yipped his excitement, and heavy steps came running. Then Genba threw wide the gate, his face all smiles. ‘Trouble found his way home on his own,’ he cried. ‘I heard him scratching and whining outside the gate last night, and there he was.’

It was a joyous and confused homecoming. The dog, looking thinner and missing part of an ear, rushed about, barking and jumping up at them. Hanae came running and flung herself into Tora’s arms. Tamako’s maid peered from the doorway and ran down the steps to greet her mistress. Seimei hobbled slowly to the top of the stairs. Even Cook ran out of the kitchen with a smile on her face.

Akitada went to greet Seimei. Seimei smiled, but he lost no time telling Akitada that the board of censors expected him to report.

This was a heavy blow because it meant that his case had been found serious enough to warrant an official investigation. An investigation alone carried the stigma of public disgrace. For a moment, Akitada’s mind reeled, then he bit his lip and accompanied Seimei inside to read the document.

The letter was no more enlightening than Seimei’s blunt report, but Akitada looked up from it and said, ‘It must be Sadanori’s doing. He did this to stop my meddling in his affairs. I wonder what he will say when I tell him that Ishikawa is dead and that he is suspected of several murders.’

Seimei looked nervous. ‘You are not going to see Lord Sadanori again?’

‘Even without the summons from the board, I would have to speak to him. There are loose ends in this case, and the boy deserves to know what happened to his parents.’

Seimei twisted his thin old hands in silent protest.

Akitada touched his shoulder. ‘Seimei, trust me. All will be well. Her Ladyship has taken us in hand.’

That made Seimei smile again. ‘Oh, very good,’ he said. ‘Then happiness has indeed returned to this house.’

But ‘trouble’ had also returned, both figuratively and literally. While he was not certain how deep Sadanori’s involvement in the murders went, Tora’s report of the conversation between Ishikawa and his master suggested that Sadanori knew about them.

Akitada washed and changed his clothes, then went to tell Tamako about the summons from the board. Nori was sitting on the floor playing with Hanae’s white cat. He looked like any happy, healthy little boy.

Tamako listened to his news and sighed. ‘I suppose it had to happen. You will know how to answer them.’ They had both learned that the decisions made by the mighty were not always based on reason and truth, and that punishment and reward were equally unpredictable.

‘You won’t mind living in poverty again?’

She shook her head and smiled at him.

His heart lifted with hope. ‘I’m on my way to see Sadanori,’ he said.

Her smile changed to alarm. ‘Take Tora.’

‘You know I must see Sadanori privately.’

‘Yes, but … he could wait outside.’

He laughed. ‘You haven’t seen Sadanori. I’m a much better fighter than he.’

‘You will take your sword?’

‘No, that’s not what I meant. I wouldn’t be admitted. I meant with my bare hands.’ He flexed them and scowled ferociously.

Tamako giggled. She had always had a very pretty laugh. ‘Be careful and hurry back, husband,’ she murmured.

A short while later, when Akitada was sitting on the bottom step of the stairs, putting on his shoes, he noticed a strange rumbling sound that seemed to come from beneath his feet. He paused to listen. Trouble was barking furiously in the stable, and birds fluttered among the trees. Akitada got up and crossed the yard quickly, afraid that some part of a building or wall had collapsed.

But all seemed intact in the stable. Only the horses moved nervously and looked at him with large liquid eyes showing their whites. Trouble came, his fur standing in a ridge along his spine. He pushed his nose into Akitada’s hand, whined and wagged his tail. Shaking his head, Akitada went back outside, glanced up at all the roofs and scanned the walls. Finding nothing out of the ordinary, he left on his errand.

Akitada was convinced that Sadanori had been an unwilling tool in Ishikawa’s hands. He had a marriageable daughter who was his heiress, and Ishikawa had played a game of murder to implicate Sadanori until he was ripe for blackmail. The last time Akitada and Ishikawa had crossed paths, the young man had also resorted to blackmail when he had discovered a guilty secret. This time he had created the guilty secret himself.

What Akitada was about to do would seem to Sadanori like more blackmail – all the more so because the powerful Fujiwara noble had caused serious problems for Akitada and was in a position not only to reverse them, but to further Akitada’s career. Men like Sadanori were used to the greed of lesser mortals. It would be much wiser not to irritate Sadanori further, but that was impossible.

The great man’s house lay quiet in the westering sun. There was little activity in the courtyard, and the servant who met Akitada seemed glad of a break in the tedium. He took Akitada into a small reception hall and disappeared to announce him to his master.

Time passed. Akitada was restless. After sitting for a while, he got up and paced. More time passed.

Akitada decided that Sadanori had left him waiting in order to be insulting. Thoroughly irritated, he pushed up a shutter and stepped out on to a veranda overlooking the lake and private gardens. The bright blue-tiled roof beyond the far trees must be the new pavilion. And there, in a distance, he saw his unwilling host – his plump figure in a blue gown unmistakable – jogging away past the lake to the pavilion.

Akitada turned and went back inside. The servant returned to inform him that his master was not at home and it was not known when he would return.

Suppressing anger, Akitada thanked the man and left. He walked quickly around the walled compound to the back gate. When there was no response to his knock, he pushed the gate open and took the path to the pavilion.

The garden seemed strangely silent. No birds sang. Near the water’s edge some twenty ducks milled about nervously. Sadanori had had the building raised nearly five feet above ground level – probably for an unobstructed view across the lake to his residence and over the shining roofs of palaces beyond, all the way to the green hills outside the city.

Akitada climbed the stairs, and Sadanori called out, ‘Who is there? I do not wish to be disturbed.’

Akitada said nothing and crossed the veranda.

‘Go away!’ Sadanori sounded irascible.

Akitada found him sitting at a desk in the nearest room, drumming his fingers and glaring at the door.

‘You!’ he gasped.

Akitada made him a mocking bow. ‘A charming place for us to meet. Private, yet luxurious.’ The room was not large, but the mats on the sparkling floor were very thick and bound in silk. Sadanori’s desk was of the finest cedar wood and furnished with writing implements carved from ivory and jade.

Sadanori glowered. ‘I don’t want to see you. Who let you in?’

Akitada seated himself on a green silk cushion. ‘What a very handsome robe,’ he said lightly. It was in fact a very beautiful and expensive pale blue silk with a woven pattern of clouds. ‘I happened to see you from the reception room and followed to bring you news from your mother.’

Sadanori’s jaw clenched. ‘My mother? You were trying to curry favor with my mother? I’m warning you, Sugawara, it won’t do you any good.’

‘I think,’ said Akitada, ‘you’re under some misapprehension. I’m not here on my account.’

Sadanori’s eyes narrowed. ‘You’re not? My mother is in good health, I hope?’

‘Distraught, but well.’

‘Distraught? What happened?’

‘Two violent deaths are not reassuring events to witness.’

The other man’s eyes widened. He gulped. Akitada let him wait. Finally, Sadanori gasped, ‘Wh– who died?’

‘Ishikawa died last night, and his mother this morning.’

Now Sadanori was frightened. ‘Y-you k-killed them?’

Of course not. But they talked before they died.’

Turning pale, Sadanori shouted, ‘Get out. Get away from me. Help!’

His voice was not very loud, and the pavilion was a long way from the main house. Akitada sighed. ‘You should be glad to be rid of your blackmailer.’

Sadanori stared at him as he thought about this. He still looked a little green and his hands still plucked nervously at his robe, but he weighed Akitada’s words. ‘Why are you here?’

‘To tell you what happened.’

‘I want to know what they said.’

So Sadanori was already beginning to fight back.

‘You have been implicated in several murders.’ It was not altogether an untruth, if you took in the conversation Tora had overheard here in this pavilion. Much now depended on manipulating Sadanori into making a mistake, a slip of the tongue that would confirm Akitada’s suspicions.

Sadanori opened his mouth to speak when it happened.

The carved-ivory water container on his desk began to move. They both stared at it in astonishment. Akitada felt a faint trembling and wondered if Sadanori’s agitation had transferred itself to the floor they were sitting on. Then all the implements on the desk started to slide about and the floor beneath him shook. Outside, the waterfowl took to the air with loud quacking and a clatter of wings. Akitada had the oddest impression of shifting, or rather of the walls around him shifting – or perhaps of the building sliding sideways. He caught his breath, trying to make sense of it, when Sadanori yelped, ‘Earthquake!’ and jumped to his feet to flee.

Before Akitada could follow, another rolling shake started, the ivory water container danced off the desk, and outside tiles crashed to the ground. The new wooden beams squealed like wounded animals, and a bamboo stand fell over, spilling Sadanori’s library across the floor. Sadanori stumbled over them and out the door. Akitada heard him running down the staircase.

Akitada got up when the tremor ceased. It was safer outside, provided he was not hit by the tiles sliding down from the roof. Looking up at the ceiling, he saw small cracks. Massive timbers supported this floor and the heavy tile roof above him. Some dust sifted down, but the room looked stable enough. It depended on how long a quake lasted and how strong the shocks were. Perhaps the worst was over.

It was not. The next shock caused him to stumble. This time the floor under his feet rolled like a ship at sea. The building creaked and squealed. Akitada staggered to the door and on to the veranda. He clutched a pillar at the top of the stairs, gauging his chances of running down, when more tiles fell, smashing on the stairs and the ground. Dust rose as he clung on and wondered where Sadanori was. He thought of Tamako and the rest of his family and of his own house. It had withstood earthquakes before, but never in such a derelict condition. At least they had no tiles to worry about. He looked across the lake towards the city. It shimmered oddly in the sulphurous light of the sunset, but looked peaceful enough. The great danger in an earthquake was fire. All it would take was one oil lamp falling over, or a hot coal spilling from a brazier, and the flames would race quickly from house to house.

When the earth stopped moving and no more tiles fell, Akitada ran down the steps, leaping over the debris of broken tiles and putting some distance between himself and the pavilion. Then he looked back. A portion of the roof was bare of tiles, and a few veranda supports leaned here and there. In a distance he heard people shouting. There was no sign of Sadanori. Once again fate had interfered at the wrong moment.

Akitada was turning towards the gate when he caught a glimpse of blue. It was under the pavilion, where it had no business being. He approached the building cautiously to look, but he knew already. Sadanori, in his panic, had crept under his new pavilion.

‘You’d better come out,’ Akitada called. ‘It’s not safe down there.’

There was no answer. Akitada took another step and saw that one of the main supports of the pavilion, a huge beam that rested on a flat rock and held up, along with three others, the elegant, but fragile structure above, had slipped far enough off its foundation that another jolt would bring the whole pavilion down on top of Sadanori.

‘Come out,’ Akitada shouted. ‘The building may fall. Hurry!’

There was still no reply. What was wrong with the man? Maybe a tile had stunned him. Or perhaps he was so afraid of Akitada that he would risk his life to avoid him.

It was a desperate choice. Someone in his own home might be hurt. Akitada hesitated, then ducked under the pavilion. Tora had hidden here when he overheard Sadanori speaking to Ishikawa. Sadanori was probably not worth saving, but watching him being crushed would be worse. He would grab him and drag him out into the open. And later, if all went well, he’d get the truth out of him.

Akitada bent double as he made his way to the cowering figure in the blue silk robe. Sadanori had lost his tall hat – Akitada stumbled over it – and sat with his head between his knees and covered by his arms.

‘Sadanori,’ said Akitada, ‘stop this foolishness. There’s no time. The building is slipping. You may be crushed at any moment. Come out.’

‘No,’ sobbed the other man. ‘I’ll die. It’s my fate.’

Akitada cursed under his breath and took hold of Sadanori’s arm. Jerking him up, he half carried, half dragged him towards light and safety.

But there was not enough time. The earth shook again, and the structure above them moaned in protest. Thinking of Tamako and his people, Akitada dropped Sadanori and scrambled towards the open. If he could at least reach the veranda overhang, he might be protected when the heavier timbers collapsed.

He managed a few more steps, then the ground under him rolled and heaved as if alive, and he fell to his knees. The large beam slipped with a slow squeal. One by one the horizontal supports above cracked, popped, tore, and splintered, and then the whole structure collapsed on him. For a moment the sound was deafening and it turned dark. Something heavy fell down in front of Akitada and blocked his way. The dust was thick and made his eyes burn and filled his nostrils until he choked. He was on his belly without knowing how he’d got there. Coughing, he tried to slide around the obstruction, to find a way out, but something pinned him from behind. When he used his right arm to feel around, he found that the floor of the pavilion was now within inches of his back and shoulders and touched his thighs. He could not reach any farther, and he could not move his legs.

An initial fear that he was injured severely and possibly paralyzed passed when he became aware of pain in his legs.

At about the same time, he heard Sadanori. The sound curdled Akitada’s blood. The high keening noise was followed by a rattle and did not sound human.

Akitada guessed that Sadanori was less than five feet behind him, but debris separated them. He cleared his throat and called out, ‘Sadanori?’

The keening paused.

‘Are you hurt?’ Akitada was not sure how badly he himself was hurt – the pain was mostly in his right leg – but he thought on the whole he had been lucky. Much depended on what happened next. Even if the main tremors were past, aftershocks were common, and the slightest movement might bring down the debris, which merely pinned his legs now, and crush him.

Sadanori said something, but his words were unintelligible.

‘Somebody will come and get us out,’ Akitada told him. That opened up new and frightening possibilities. Sadanori’s servants scrambling about among the broken timbers could well cause a fatal collapse.

Sadanori suddenly raised his voice and said clearly, ‘I’m dying.’

Appalled, Akitada asked, ‘Where are you hurt?’

‘My arm hurts.’

That hardly sounded fatal, and Sadanori’s voice was quite strong. Trust the man to wail over a small injury, thought Akitada. He put Sadanori’s problems from his mind and concentrated on his own situation. His right leg still hurt. Worse, he had no feeling in the lower part of it any longer. For all he knew, part of the limb was gone. He gulped down fear and worked his right hand back to feel along his body. At his hip, he encountered the beam which seemed to rest on him. His left hand moved more freely, and his left leg seemed only pinned. He could move his foot. He began a cautious effort to free it, but something shifted as he moved and now pressed on his shoulder. It was becoming hard to breathe. Akitada tried to suppress a rising panic, but he still had nightmares of the weeks he had spent buried in a mine on Sado island. His heart started racing and he was gasping when Sadanori began his dreadful keening again.

Akitada forgot his own terror and got angry. ‘Shut up!’ he shouted.

Sadanori broke off.

‘What makes you think you’re worth saving?’ Akitada asked nastily.

Sadanori sobbed.

Feeling better, Akitada put him from his mind and used his hands to dig away the dirt underneath him. The ground was soft down here. He prayed that the beam, or whatever pinned him, was supported by something other than his body, and that he could get enough purchase to crawl out.

Sadanori suddenly said, ‘I would not have hurt Hanae. I just wanted her to see what I could do for her. If the chancellor had not summoned me and kept me all day, this would not have happened.’

Akitada snarled, ‘You lie. You had your servant drug her and tie her up. She escaped on her own a day later.’

‘It’s the stupid woman’s fault. She exceeded her orders.’

Akitada did not think that worth a response.

Sadanori tried again. ‘I did not intend any of it to happen. How can I be responsible for what Ishikawa did?’

Akitada stopped digging. What was he talking about? Still angry, he said, ‘You’re beyond the human law now, but the judge of the underworld will know exactly what you did.’

Sadanori wept noisily.

On an impulse, Akitada added, ‘Your only option is to make a clean breast of it so that the living will not suffer for your deeds.’

Sadanori wept harder.

Akitada went on digging. He was sweating from the exertion, but so far nothing else had shifted and he could now twist his body a little.

‘Am I really dying?’

Akitada almost laughed. ‘How should I know?’ he snapped. ‘I thought you said you were.’

After a moment, Sadanori said sadly, ‘Yes, I am. I hope it’s quick.’

Akitada paused to rest. ‘In that case you’d better confess now,’ he said hopefully.

‘We’ll both die, so what’s the point?’

‘I’m not,’ Akitada said with more conviction than he felt. ‘I’m digging myself out.’ And he started on his labors again.

And then the first of the aftershocks hit.