Текст книги "Death on an Autumn River "

Автор книги: Ingrid J. Parker

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Текущая страница: 14 (всего у книги 19 страниц)

Chapter Twenty-Two

The Island

The sun rose brilliantly after the storm, and all around them islands floated on a shimmering sea, some larger and some very small.

The one they approached was pitifully small, apparently consisting of no more than a large picturesque rock formation with a few pines clinging to it and a narrow strip of sandy beach.  Tora saw neither buildings nor people.

Under the clearing morning skies, the pirates had got busy setting as much sail as was left.  They steered the ship along the small island’s coast.  Eventually, a promontory blocked the way.  They took the vessel close to the land.  Tora saw no reason why they would want to land here.  The place was desolate and inhospitable.  For that matter, the rocks loomed dangerously close.  It looked almost as if they planned to ram the ship into them.

When they were almost exactly under the tallest cliff, a shout rang out from it, and the sailors answered with cheers and laughter.  A lookout had seen and welcomed them.  They were among friends.

They reefed the remaining sail and put men on the oars and the rudders.  The ship slowed and made a turn around the promontory, and there was an inlet, a narrow opening between two sheer walls of rock.  With the ease of experience, the ship entered and passed the narrows to come to rest in a small bay.  Here the land fell more gently toward the water, a few shacks stood on the beach, and fishing boats were drawn up on the sand.

A new worry seized Tora.  The  secret entrance into this hidden cove, where the pirate ship could lie at anchor without being seen from the open sea, made it the perfect hideaway.  If a pirate ship found itself pursued, it could disappear with an almost supernatural suddenness, and the pursuers would be none the wiser.  He had witnessed this maneuver, found their hideaway, and could recognize the landmarks.  They would not let him leave to reveal their secret to the world.

As they anchored, men and women appeared on the shore to greet them.  Tora counted more people than could comfortably live in the few shacks, so there must be a settlement somewhere.  He had no time to reflect on this, because the pirates lowered the boat and came for him.

No bonds this time, but neither were they gentle with him.  They grunted commands to get in the boat and watched impatiently as he tried to climb down, holding on to a rope.  The rope chafed his already raw hands, and he fell the last few feet, getting a kick for his clumsiness.  After that, he sat, cradling his sore palms, while they rowed ashore.

There he suffered the curious scrutiny of the women, children, and old men.  From their excited babble in a strong dialect, he deduced that he was being introduced as a “spy” and their prisoner.  He looked around for a male who might be the chief mentioned by Dragon Tattoo but saw no one who fit his idea of a pirate chief.

A number of the returned sailors, with Dragon Tattoo in the lead, marched him inland.

The dirt path was well-travelled and showed wheel tracks but no hoof marks. Apparently goods were moved by manpower.  Rocky mountain sides, thinly covered with pines and brambles enclosed the track.  After about half a mile of steady climbing, Tora saw cave openings, several of them, and it occurred to him that these men lived in caves.  Then he smelled smoke.  And food cooking.  If his mouth had not been so dry, it would have watered.  He realized his hunger and thirst were much greater than his fear.  Would they feed him before they killed him?  He decided he would refuse to speak until he got some food and water.

The path took a few more turns before they reached a plateau.  This was surrounded by sheer rock walls pierced by many openings.  In front of a large cave entrance was an open fire with a large pot suspended over it.  A woman stirred it with a wooden ladle.  A short distance from her sat a middle-aged man on a campaign stool of the kind used by generals during a campaign.  He had a thick black beard and bushy brows, wore half armor and boots, and had a sword lying beside him.  He raised a hand in greeting to Dragon Tattoo before his eyes fell on Tora.

This, then, must be the chief, the man who held his life in his hands.  Tora returned the look with equal curiosity.

“Bring him!”  The chief’s voice boomed and echoed from the mountainside.  Tora thought it appropriate for a commander of an army.

Dragon Tattoo grasped Tora’s arm, thrusting him forward so that he stumbled and fell to one knee.  Catching himself, Tora shook a fist at Dragon Tattoo and then walked the few steps to the pirate chief.

“Hah!” said the chief.  “You think you can threaten one of my men?”

“He’s a coward and a bastard who likes to hurt people.”

Dragon Tattoo ran up with a snarl, his own fist raised.

“No,” said the chief.  “He’s right.  You are a coward and I’ve seen you torturing prisoners.  Tell me why you decided to bring a stranger here.”

Dragon Tattoo shot Tora a furious glance, but he lowered his fist.  “He’s a spy, chief.  He was asking questions about us.”

The chief glowered.  “And you thought it was a good idea to show him our island?  What am I to do with him?”

Dragon Tattoo’s face fell for a moment.  Then he said, “You can find out who he works for before I kill him.  No harm done.”  He chortled.

“You’re not only a coward, you’re an idiot!” the chief roared, getting to his feet so violently that his stool fell over.

Tora saw that the others gathered around the fire where the woman was dishing out helpings of whatever was in the large pot.  He was ravenous.  “If you don’t mind, chief,” he said, breaking into the ominous silence before the storm, “I’d very much like something to eat and drink before you go on with this.  Your men haven’t been exactly hospitable.”

The chief’s jaw dropped.  He looked at Tora speechlessly for a moment, then burst into a laugh.  “You’re a cool bastard.  What if I let Tojo kill you?  He wants to badly enough, don’t you, Tojo?”

Tojo cringed but nodded his head.  “I’ll do it, chief.  Right here and now.  Just say the word.”

Tora gave him a pitying look.  “He can’t do it.  Not unless you have me tied up again.”

Dragon Tattoo exploded into another attack, fists flying.  Tora skipped aside, stuck out a leg to trip him and, when he was down, sat on him.  “You see?” he said to the chief with a grin.

The chief grinned back.  “Let him go and get something to eat.  We’ll talk later.”

Tora got up.  “Thanks, chief.  And by the way, the name’s Tora.”

The food was good and plentiful, fish cooked with rice.  The rice was of the best quality, very white and with a rich flavor.  It was what the wealthy ate.  No doubt, it came from those bales he could see stacked inside the cave.  Life was good to pirates.

The chief was now deep in conversation with the man who had been at the rudder of the ship, its captain or master.  A small but heavy bag changed hands.  The chief peered into it, then shoved it inside his shirt.  He said something, and both men turned their heads to look at Tora.  Tora quickly raised his bowl to his face.  He was nearly done and still hungry.  Holding the empty bowl out to the woman who was stirring the pot, he gave her a pleading look.  She spat and turned her back on him.

“Fill his bowl!” roared the chief.

She glared at Tora but gave him another helping.  He bowed to the chief and thanked her, adding a compliment on her cooking.  In vain.  She turned away.

Tora sighed.  A spy’s life was hard.

And dangerous.

Dragon Tattoo came for his own meal and gave Tora a look of such sheer hatred that he choked on his next bite.  The chief might be a man of some humanity, but the same did not apply to his people.  There was little doubt that Dragon Tattoo would kill him at his first opportunity.

Tora finished his food and felt better.  There was nothing to do but to await developments.  The fact that no one made a move to unload the ship meant that they had made a delivery in Kawajiri and been paid off.  That was why the master had passed a bag of money to the chief.  Perhaps he could find out who had bought the pirated goods.

He glanced around and saw nothing but hardened faces.  The chances of getting information were not good.  He had better think about getting away and let the government take care of the pirate hideout.

Chances were that on its next departure the ship would resume the hunt for prey.  He could not escape that way.  And even if he could convince the chief that he was a promising recruit, Tora shuddered at what he would be expected to do.  Pirates were ruthless about slaughtering ships’ crews.

Was there some other way?

The plateau around the great cave was high above the sea but enclosed by rocky ridges and forest.  Only toward the west, he could catch a glimpse of the water.  He saw two other islands, fairly close, and knew there were many more.  But even so, he could not hope to swim that far.

“You!  Tora!  Come here.”

Tora spun around.  The chief was gesturing.  He got up, dusted himself off, and strolled over.

“They say you’re a spy,” the chief growled.

Tora chose a rock and sat down across from the chief.  “They’re idiots,” he said, grinning.

The chief narrowed his eyes.  “What were you doing in the hostel?”

“I needed a place to sleep.  What else?”

“You’d been asking questions all over town.  Don’t lie to me.”

“I always ask questions.  I like to know what’s going on and who people are.”

“You asked questions about us.”

“No.  I didn’t know anything about you.  I asked about pirates.”

“Why?”

Tora looked up at the sky.  After the storm it was a clear blue again.  High above him circled several birds of prey.  Below he could hear the cries of gulls.  “I was thinking of becoming one,” he said, “but now I’m not so sure.  Are you going to split that money with your men?”

“What?”

Tora brought his eyes back to the chief’s bulging shirt and grinned.  “The master of your ship brought you a bag of coins.  It looked heavy.  Maybe it was gold. Anyway, I guess being a pirate is a dangerous and bloody business.  I’d like to think there’s quite a lot of gold to be earned.  The food was good, but I don’t work for food alone.”

“You’re a cocky bastard all right,” said the chief.  “Cocky bastards are trouble.  Best make short work of them.”

“Cocky bastards are what you need more of.  Not idiots like Dragon Tattoo.  And by the way, he stole my sword.  I want it back.”

The chief snorted.  “He took it off you; you take it back.  I’d like to see you try.”

“Very well.” Tora got to his feet.  “It’s been a pleasure, chief,” he said, made a slight bow, and walked away.

He did not really feel very cocky, but by now and with a full stomach he was very angry.  Part of the anger was directed at himself for having been careless.  Part was directed at Dragon Tattoo, the man he held responsible for his capture.  It had become clear that the bastard had acted out of personal spite rather than because he really thought Tora was a spy and a danger to their enterprise.  Sometimes a fool is more dangerous than the slyest villain.

Since they made no effort to restrict his movements, he wandered around, trying to get an idea how to get away.  They watched him though, and he knew better than to go off by himself.  Instead, he stayed with groups of the pirates, watching their work, asking questions from time to time that received no answers, and surveying as much of the island as he could.

They would not let him explore the cave where they stored their loot, but nobody objected when he joined some men who headed down to the hidden harbor.  They got into the boat that had brought them ashore, and rowed out to the ship.  Tora sat on the sandy beach and watched them begin repairs.

When the boat returned to pick up some lumber, he got up to meet them.  “I can help,” he offered.  “I’d rather work than sit about doing nothing.”

They looked at each other.  Tora thought he recognized the man he had stopped from going overboard during the storm.  He said, “Let him come.  There’s no way you can escape.”

Tora grinned.  “I don’t want to escape.”

They did not become any friendlier or more talkative after that, but they pointed out the lumber stored in one of the shacks, and sail cloth, and big bundles of hemp rope.  These he helped them load into the boat and then joined them for the return trip to the ship.

In the afternoon they rowed back to the shore to drag a large tree trunk to the ship.  It would be the new mast, replacing the one the storm had taken away.  This was very heavy work, and Tora was drenched in sweat.  He had long since stripped to his pants.  They had stared at him when he did this.  Tora’s torso and upper arms bore many scars from fights and battles of the past, and he thought they treated him with more respect afterward.

For his part, he developed equal respect for their ability to make these repairs and for their determination and pride in their work.  He was too clumsy for most of the chores, but he knew how to carry, lift, pull, use a hammer, and generally lend a hand.

Dusk came early in the small bay hidden by the tall rocks, and they stopped their labors for their evening rice.  Tora could not remember when he had last been so utterly exhausted.  He was still bruised from the stormy night, and his head was sore and hurt.  But the pirates had taken more punishment during the storm, and he was not about to show them how weak he was.  He dragged his weary body from the bay to the plateau above, seriously doubting that he could make the climb.

.  The sinking sun still left a golden glow in front of the great cave.  Once there, he collapsed and emptied his mind, lying on the ground, watching birds circling above in the fading light.  When he gathered his wits again and sat up with a groan, he saw that the chief was listening to the report on the repairs.  Some of the men he had worked with stood around him, and by their gestures and glances he guessed that they talked about him.  He had been unable to glean anything useful about their habits or his chances of escaping, but perhaps he had won himself some goodwill.

Feeling a strange bristling on the back of his neck, he turned his head.  Dragon Tattoo was sitting a few yards behind him.  He was looking at him, his eyes filled with raw hatred.  Only now, Tora thought, there was something new:  a hint of triumph and gleeful anticipation.

The attack would come soon.

He was still weighing his options against Dragon Tattoo when the chief called them both over.

He told Tora, “I could put you in chains tonight, but you’ve made yourself useful, and besides Tojo would just slit your throat.  On the other hand, left free, you might try to escape while the camp is asleep. So I’ve decided that Tojo will watch you while you sleep.”

Dragon Tattoo protested.  “Chain him up.  I want to sleep myself.”

Tora said nothing.  He eyed his sword at Dragon Tattoo’s side and wondered if he could snatch it and cut the bastard’s throat.  Maybe the chief would overlook it.

The chief growled, “No.  It’s your punishment for being an idiot and a coward.  And if he gets away, or if something happens to him, I’ll personally cut off your balls.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

The Goblin’s Tale

It started raining long before the end of the party.  Guests scrambled to get inside and preserve their finery.  Akitada did not bother to bid his hostess farewell.  He was simmering with suppressed fury and did not trust himself to speak to her or, for that matter, to Sadenari.

“We’re leaving,” he growled at the annoying young man, who was still smiling broadly and fondly at him.  “Now!”

“Yes, sir,” said Sadenari, looking a little puzzled.

“I have a horse, but you’ll walk.”

Sadenari gazed at the drizzle but said only, “Yes, sir.”

As they were leaving the River Mansion with gusts of wind and rain buffeting them, Sadenari tried to speak again. “I was so glad to see you, sir.  I have much to report—”

“Later,” snarled Akitada, not at all moved by the rain-wet face turned up to him.

They finished the trip in silence.  When they reached his room at the monastery, Akitada wanted to shout at Sadenari but he could not risk waking the monks.  He pointed to the bedding.  “Get out of your wet clothes and wrap yourself in that.”  He himself stripped, draping their clothes around the room in hopes that they would dry by morning.

Sadenari, naked and shivering, covered himself with one of the quilts, leaving the other for Akitada.  Outside the wind increased.  It shook the walls and sent branches crashing down on the roof.

“I think you realize that you no longer have a government career,” Akitada said through clenched teeth.  “After this escapade and the trouble you caused, I will not have you work for me or anyone else if I can help it.”

Sadenari stared.  “But—”

“We spent the past two weeks searching for you, afraid that you’d been abducted and might be dead.  When I found that your father received a letter from you, it became clear that you’d gone off adventuring on your own, without regard for your responsibilities or word to me.  And now I find you, by mere accident, in Eguchi, playing the whore to an old woman.”

Sadenari had become pale.  In a weak voice, he said, “But I did write.”

“Nonsense.  Or at least not to me or the ministry.”  A suspicion crossed Akitada’s mind.  “Why did you write to Nakahara?”

“I didn’t write to him.  The letters were to you, under cover to Nakahara.  You were staying there.  You mean he didn’t give them to you?”

Akitada stared at him.  “No.  There was more than one letter?”

“Oh, yes.  I wrote a report every day.  Then my money ran out, and I had to look for a job.  After that, I wrote several more times but not every day.  Working made it hard to do any investigating.”

“Working?  You should have returned!”  Akitada took to pacing, while Sadenari huddled into his cover.  The room had become cold, and the storm sounded worse.  “That’s why I got none of the letters.  Nakahara knew,” muttered Akitada.  “All the time, Nakahara knew.  And Otomo was sending me off on wild goose chases.  The villains!”

“You think Nakahara is the guilty person?” Sadenari asked.

“Oh, yes.  He and the prefect, and probably the governor, too.”  Akitada recalled himself.  It was really too frustrating the way everyone seemed to have perfectly plausible explanations for their dubious behavior. “You’re by no means out of the woods yet.  Report!” he snapped.

Sadenari paled again.  “Yes, sir.  I had some good luck at first.  I found out that the pirates operated from Kawajiri.  I set out for there.  That was in my first letter.”  He paused uncertainly.

“Go on.”

“In Kawajiri, I ran into difficulties.  The sailors I spoke to didn’t want to talk.  They claimed there were no pirates in Kawajiri and never had been.  I stayed another day in some cheap sailors’ hostel, but by then I was running very low on funds.  Fortunately, I picked up a rumor of some sailors who had a lot of money and were going to Kaya or Eguchi to spend it on women and wine.  I used my last money on a boat to Eguchi.  And another letter to you.”

Akitada cast up his eyes.  “I might have known you’d end up in Eguchi.  We tracked you to the Kawajiri hostel, but thought you’d gone on board a ship.  Tell me, did your investigation into the girl’s death produce better results than the ones into piracy?”

Sadenari fidgeted.  “Yes, sir.  But I really went to find the pirates.”

Akitada grunted his disbelief.  “What about the girl?”

  “I took a job in Eguchi.  In the restaurant where we ate, remember?  I thought since they fired the old waiter, I might have a chance, and I needed the money. Besides, pirates might just show up there.”

Akitada grimaced.  “Get on with it.”

“The restaurant delivers food to the River Mansion when there’s a party.  I’m quite strong, and there was a lot of food to carry.  The betto Kakuan sent the others away but asked me to stay and help.  I was glad, because I thought it was the place where the poor girl had been murdered, but I didn’t find out anything that night, and in the end I had to walk back to Eguchi by myself.  Only, the next day, Kakuan came to the restaurant and offered me money to work at the mansion.  Much more money than that skinflint paid me.  And that’s how you came to find me there.”  He stopped with a happy smile.

“What is it that you found out about the dead girl?”

“Well, sir, her name was Akogi!”  He paused to gauge the effect of this, but Akitada only nodded.

“She was with one of the courtesans who attended a party of noblemen from the capital.  They say a guest asked to buy her out, but something happened, and it came to nothing.”

“So?”

“That’s all I know for sure, but whatever happened was just before we found her. So they must have killed her.”

“They?”

“Well, someone objected to the buy-out. That will be easy enough to find out.”

“Has it occurred to you that the girl could also have committed suicide out of disappointment?”

Sadenari’s face fell, but he looked stubborn.  “Well, that’s all I could learn before you came.”

Akitada snapped, “Surely that’s not all.  I gather, your duties at the mansion were much more personal than mere household chores.”

A flush rose to Sadenari’s hairline. “Wh-what do you mean, sir?”

“Apparently the first female you slept with is old enough to be your grandmother.”

Sadenari looked shocked, then angry.  “What?  Oh no, sir.  It wasn’t like that.  Her ladyship was very kind to me, that’s all.  And besides, I had occasion before . . . I mean, I’m an adult.  Begging your pardon, sir, but I don’t see where such questions have anything to do with my work at the ministry.”

Akitada ran a hand over his face.  “Forget it.”  The infernal youth was right.  This was not the time to deal with moral lessons.  He would unravel Sadenari’s infractions when his head was clearer.  He listened.  The wind seemed to have died down a little. “Go to sleep,” he said.  “I’ll decide what to do with you tomorrow.”

*

They returned to Naniwa by the first boat.  The sky was clear again, but everywhere the storm had left broken limbs, roof tiles, and shutters strewn across roads and waterways.

Sadenari was subdued.  Akitada had not mentioned his sexual exploits again.  It would have been hypocritical to do so.  His own behavior had been questionable, and Sadenari had witnessed it.  Besides it was too late to offer the youth guidance in romantic matters, even if he had felt obligated to do so.  The relief that the youth was alive overshadowed the frustrations he had caused.  He confined himself to a reminder that Sadenari should have known all was not well when he had received no answers to his letters.  His continued absence suggested that he had not wanted to lose his freedom to do as he wished.

In Naniwa, they returned to the hostel, Sadenari to get his things and return to the capital, and Akitada to await Tora.

“I will report to the minister by separate post,” he told Sadenari when he was ready to leave.

Sadenari looked stricken.  He was not being trusted to carry what must be a negative report about his activities.  Akitada hardened his heart.  He was about to be rid of the troublesome Sadenari, and in a short while he would meet Tora.  They would manage the case together, now that he knew Nakahara was at the heart of the conspiracy.

Tora did not return.  Akitada spent the rest of the day, writing his various reports and thinking about what he had learned in Eguchi.

Early the next day, he headed for the trade office, phrasing his charges against Nakahara in his mind.  He would extract a confession from the man, and the rest should be easy.

But when he approached the gate, a familiar thin and disreputable figure detached itself from one of the pillars and came loping toward him.

The lopsided face seemed more twisted than ever and the bad eye rolled horribly in its socket.  He folded his thin frame into a deep bow.  “I’ve been praying to find you, sir.”

“Later,” said Akitada, side-stepping him.  “I’m in a hurry.”

But the ugly man followed and caught hold of his sleeve.  “Please.  It’s about Tora.”

Akitada stopped.  “What about Tora?”

“The pirates got him.  Night before last.  Just before the storm broke.”

An icy hand squeezed Akitada’s insides.  “They got him?  Is he dead?”

The ugly man made a jerky movement.  “No.  Not dead.  At least . . . no, I think they took him away unconscious.  I don’t think they meant to kill him.  But they put him on a ship and left.”

Akitada seized the fellow by the shoulders and shook him.  “Who?  Where?”

“In Kawajiri.  Pirates.  The ship was at anchor in the outer harbor.  It left as soon as Tora was aboard.  I’ve been asking questions, and then came here to look for you.”

No point in seeing Nakahara now.  Akitada turned back. “Come, you’d better tell me all you know.  I’ll buy you a cup of wine.”

The ugly man’s face twisted.  “Not wine.  A bowl of food would be very welcome.  I haven’t had time to eat.”

A short time later, Akitada watched once more as the ugly man gobbled his food.  His own stomach clenched with nausea.  He was impatient, but the man deserved to eat.  And Tora must still be alive.  At least he hoped so.  There had been the storm.

Finally, the ugly man put down his bowl.  “Thank you. I was getting faint.  My stamina isn’t what it used to be, and I’ve been on the move ever since last night, at first finding out what happened, and then trying to find you.”

“Start at the beginning.”

The ugly man either smiled or grimaced.  “When you decided you didn’t trust me, I kept an eye on things on my own.  Then you left for the capital, and I thought you weren’t coming back.  When I caught sight of your assistant talking to the postmaster, I followed him.”  Again that lopsided grin.  “A capable man.  He nearly caught me twice.  In Kawajiri, he disguised himself as a laborer and went to the Hostel of the Flying Cranes.  He spent the night there.”

Akitada nodded.  “He was seeking information about the pirates.”

“Ah.  Kunimitsu works for them.  I decided to sleep in a shed in back of the hostel. That’s where I overheard Kunimitsu talking to one of the pirates.  A big brute called Tojo.  Tojo was up to something and Kunimitsu pointed out where your assistant was sleeping.”

Akitada nodded.  “I’ve met Kunimitsu.  So he’s a rascal?”

“Oh, yes.  When they went away, I tried to warn Tora, but he didn’t trust me.  A few hours later, some men and a woman came.  The woman started screaming.  Tora ran out and they jumped him and knocked him out.  I followed them to the harbor, saw him put on the ship, and the ship set sail.”

The tale was concise and disastrous.  “Go on.  You said you asked questions.”

“Yes, in Kawajiri.  The pirates have a hideout on a small island.  It has no name, but it’s past Azukishima.  I think they took Tora there.”

“That hideout is common knowledge in Kawajiri?”

“No.  I have a friend who owes me a favor.”

It sounded very dubious, but Akitada could not afford to brush the ugly man off again.  “What else did this friend tell you?”

“Very little.  He thinks they were making a delivery in Kawajiri but doesn’t know or won’t say  to whom.”

Akitada studied the ugly creature across from him.  It was human nature to link a repulsive appearance with an evil character.  Tora must have taken him for a demon.  Yes, that was probably the reason why he had not heeded the warning.  It tended to prove that the man was telling the truth.  He asked, “What do you want for your information?”

The man looked down at his empty bowl and shook his head.  “You owe me nothing,” he said. Then he looked up.  “Did you get the amulet?”

“Yes.  Thank you.  Very clever.”  No point in asking where he got it.  Why he had returned it was puzzling, though.  “Why are you doing this?  Why are you following us around?  Nobody goes to this much trouble for nothing.”

“Since I have no work, I must hope to earn my food with small services of this kind.  Following people and asking questions are the only things I know.  And you seemed to require information.”

Akitada made up his mind.  “Very well.  You can work for me until we find Tora.  What’s your name?”

The smile was a little sad.  “It’s still Saburo.”

“Come along then.  We must find a way to get Tora back.”

Easier said than done.  He had an offer of armed men from the prefect, but Akitada could not go to him.  The same was true of the governor, even if he had returned by now.  That left Watamaro.  Everything depended on the merchant now.  He had the ships, and had offered his help before.

After asking questions in the harbor, they found him in one of his warehouses. It dated back to the time when Naniwa had had a bustling harbor.  Built high above ground on thick tree trunks to protect it from flooding, it was in good repair, and Watamaro kept an office there, tucked under the eaves of a large, dim, open space filled with stacks of goods ranging from bales of rice to imported woods, jars of medicines, and other, unidentifiable goods stored in the dark recesses.  It smelled exotic.

Watamaro was at his desk, working with an abacus over an open ledger. He looked up when he heard their steps and rose immediately.

“What a surprise!  Welcome to my workplace, my Lord.  Please forgive the poor and rough surroundings.  I regret there is no news yet of your assistant.”

“Please don’t apologize.  I came to bring you the news that my clerk has been found in Eguchi.”  Akitada looked around at shelves filled with more goods, some wrapped, some plain, and at other shelves holding ledgers.  A large map hung on the wall behind Watamaro.  It showed the lands surrounding the Inland Sea, with harbors marked all the way to Hakata.

Watamaro chuckled.  “Enjoying himself, no doubt.  A great relief to you and his family, I’m sure.  Shall we sit down?”

Akitada accepted and said diffidently, “I’m afraid I have another favor to ask.  A bigger one this time.  Last night my retainer Tora was taken by pirates in Kawajiri.  Saburo here brought me the news.”  He turned to his companion.  “Tell Watamaro what you told me.”