Текст книги "Black Arrow "

Автор книги: Ingrid J. Parker

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Текущая страница: 19 (всего у книги 21 страниц)

Akitada suppressed a smile. “Sit up and look at me, Okano.”

The actor sat up slowly, pudgy hands fluttering from hair to face and finally dropping in despair. With great difficulty, Akitada kept a straight face. Above Okano’s red face with its bulging, tear-filled eyes and quivering lips, black tufts rose into the air. Poor Okano needed no costume to play the part of a goblin. “Can you not comb it back?” he suggested.

“It’s too short. See?” Okano slapped at the horns with both hands. “Umehara gave Okano some fish oil. But it made it worse.”

That explained the strange smell.

“Ah. No doubt it will improve in time. You did not wish to consult me about your hair, I trust,” Akitada remarked.

“Oh, no,” they chorused, exchanging doleful looks.

Umehara was wringing his hands, “It’s about the sergeant telling us to leave.”

Okano wailed, “Where will Okano go? What will he do? He has no friends in the whole wide world. Okano will kill himself!”

“Holy heavens,” cried Akitada. “Stop that nonsense at once. Umehara, can’t you explain to him that he is a free man, cleared of all charges, and that he will receive some money for his suffering? Why, in heaven’s name is he carrying on like this?”

Umehara began to weep also. “He understands,” he sobbed. “It’s all very well for Takagi.” He wiped his streaming face and nose on his sleeve. “Takagi wants to go home to his village. But Okano and me ...”—he sniffed—”... we’ve got nobody and ... we’ve never been as happy as we’ve been here. We don’t want to leave your jail, sir.”

Akitada was taken aback. After a moment, he said in a choking voice, “Well, if you are sure, I’ll put in a good word for you with the sergeant.”

* * * *

TWENTY

THE WAY OF WAR

T

wo hours before sunrise Akitada still sat at his desk, staring now at the feathered arrow, now at the shell-matching game. The tea in his cup had long since been drunk and the brazier was filled with ashes. It had grown cold, but he felt neither the chill nor thirst or tiredness.

All night he had turned over in his mind the problem of the impregnable manor. Hamaya had searched the archives for information about its construction but found nothing of interest. Akitada’s memory from his visits discouraged hope. The natural defenses were just too good. Each time, he had approached the mountaintop manor by its main gate—was there another access?—and found it could be defended against an army by a handful of bowmen on the watchtower above. A battering ram was out of the question, and so were ladders. The rocky hillside, topped with walls, was too high and steep to be climbed against defending archers.

Of course, a bonfire laid against the wooden main gate would eventually consume it, but at what cost to those carrying and stacking the faggots and bundles of wood? Still, some cover might be constructed for them.

Even then, the big problem remained: When the gate was breached, the narrow entrance would only allow a small number of soldiers at a time to penetrate to the interior courts, and each of those was separately walled and defended. Uesugi had more than enough men to hold Takesuke off. Too many would die in such a gamble.

Akitada took up the arrow and fingered it thoughtfully. There was someone who might know a way.

He heard a sound in the archives outside his office, and clapped his hands.

Hamaya stuck his head in. “Your Excellency is up already?”

Akitada did not bother to correct him. “Send for Sergeant Kaoru. And get someone to bring more coals and some hot tea.”

Kaoru was prompt. It had been a while since he had had occasion to come to Akitada’s office. When he sat down, he saw the arrow and flinched. His eyes flew to Akitada’s face.

“One of yours?” Akitada asked, watching him.

“What? Oh.” He shook his head.

“It is the arrow that shot Kaibara. It occurred to me that it might have been you who shot him. Hitomaro told me of your skill with the bow.”

Kaoru blinked. “No, sir, not me, though I wish it had been. You remember I was here at the tribunal that night.”

“Ah, yes. Do you have any idea who might have done it?”

Silence. A servant entered quietly, bringing a fresh brazier of coals and a steaming pot of tea. Akitada waited until he was gone. Then he said, “Come! You recognized the arrow. Whose is it?”

Kaoru was pale now, but he answered in a steady voice. “It belongs to a dead man, sir. That arrow is part of a set of contest arrows used by the late Lord of Takata’s elder brother.”

“Ah. I was sure I had seen some like it in the Uesugi armory. It suggests that one of Uesugi’s own people shot Kaibara.”

“No!”

Akitada raised his brows. “No? How else could this arrow get out of the armory?”

Kaoru looked at it as if mesmerized. “The servants attach magic powers to ... to these arrows and ... there is much coming and going of servants at Takata. No doubt someone took it from the armory.”

“No doubt,” Akitada said dryly. “You seem well informed about the household. Have you spent much time there?”

A flush slowly rose on the other man’s face. “I did not steal the arrow, sir,” he said stiffly.

Akitada smiled. “Of course not,” he said affably. “I ask because I had hoped for information about the manor. We will move on Takata and demand Uesugi’s surrender today.”

“You will?” Relief gave way to excitement. “Then the rumors are true. He will refuse to surrender and you will have to attack the manor. May I join you, sir?”

Akitada felt depressed by the other man’s eagerness. “The bloodshed will be terrible. You would almost certainly be killed. Besides, you are needed here.”

Kaoru bit his lip. His eyes searched Akitada’s face. Finally he said, “I could be of use. I know the manor very well, having carried wood there all my life, ever since I was a small boy and went with my father.” He added, almost as an afterthought, “He was a woodcutter also.”

“A woodcutter, eh?” Akitada studied the other man. “Tell me,” he asked casually, “where did you learn to read and write Chinese characters?”

“Chinese characters? I don’t... oh, you mean the jail records. I know just a few, for brevity.”

Akitada nodded. “Quite correct and appropriate for official documents. Our native tongue is more useful for poetry and the ladies’ romances. However, few people are adept at Chinese, especially at legal terminology, and I would guess your style is as good as Hamaya’s. Where did you learn it?”

Kaoru fidgeted. “A Buddhist priest taught me when I was young,” he finally said.

Akitada smiled. “Really? A Buddhist priest? I see. You have a gentleman’s education and are a very talented young man, Sergeant.”

Kaoru flushed more deeply. “I do not lie either, sir,” he snapped.

“No, I can see that.” Akitada paused a moment. Having enjoyed Kaoru’s discomfiture, he decided he had tormented the young man enough. “Perhaps you would not mind drawing me a plan of the manor. I am particularly interested to know if there is access by means other than the main gate.”

Kaoru brightened. “There is one way, sir. A hidden door and secret passage. But it will admit only a few men.” He reached for Akitada’s ink cake, poured a few drops of water in the dish and began to rub ink. “It’s in the northeast wall and leads to a narrow passage inside the wall. You come out in one of the closed galleries. Its purpose is to allow the lord and his family to escape, or to send out messengers if the manor is under siege.” Pulling over some paper with one hand, he dipped a brush into the ink and began to sketch rapidly. “Here, sir. That’s where the exit is.”

Akitada bent over the plan and nodded. “Hmm. It could be just what we need. What about guards?”

“I doubt many know about it. Besides, only one man at a time can use it. There is a movable panel that can be barred from inside.” Kaoru paused and then asked hesitantly, “Will you have to tell many people about this, sir?”

“Don’t worry, your secret is safe. Only Tora and Hitomaro will know.”

Kaoru stared at him, but Akitada kept his face impassive. After a moment, Kaoru said, “I take it they are to go in and then open the main gate for Takesuke’s men? I don’t think that will work, sir. The secret passage may not be guarded, but it is a long way from the gate, and they do not know their way about. Please allow me to accompany them.”

Akitada thought about it and nodded. “You may be right, and I suppose you are the only man for the job at that.”

The other man blinked but said nothing.

“Very well,” Akitada said, folding up the plan. “The four of us then.”

“Surely not you, sir? What about Genba?”

“Genba has great strength and courage, but he has never learned to use a sword. Besides, someone has to stay here.”

“But what if something goes wrong . . . the place is crawling with warriors. Think of your lady.”

Akitada had looked in on Tamako during the night and watched her sleeping peacefully. The thought that they might not meet again, and worse, that his decision would destroy her also, perhaps as soon as the following day, had sickened him. Now he glared at Kaoru and snapped, “I’m going.” Seeing Kaoru’s dismay, he added more calmly, “We will need something to distract the soldiers’ attention.”

They sank into a glum silence.

“I think I have an idea,” Kaoru suddenly said, “but it will mean withdrawing the siege troops a little.”

“That can be arranged. Go on.”

“My grandmother is a miko, a medium who foretells the future by going to sleep and letting the gods speak through her. You know what I mean?”

Akitada nodded, but his heart sank. Hitomaro’s madwoman from the outcast village. He had little respect for such practices, and in this case their lives would depend on Kaoru’s senile grandmother.

Kaoru saw his expression and said, “My grandmother is well known at the manor. She used to serve as a lady’s maid there many years ago when she was a young girl, and she still has friends among the servants.”

“Surely Uesugi will not admit her at the present time.”

“On the contrary. He will welcome her because he is superstitious. If Takesuke withdraws and she shows up, he will ask for a prediction about his chances.”

“Ah.” Akitada considered it, then shook his head. “No, I cannot permit it. It would put your grandmother into extreme danger.”

“She won’t stay long. Besides, they will be afraid to harm her.”

“But how will she be able to create a disturbance, yet leave before the alarm is given?”

“She will have help. She will only tell Uesugi his future and leave a message with one of the servants. Koreburo will take care of everything else. He could set a small fire perhaps?”

Akitada considered the drawing again and nodded slowly. “Yes, it might work. A small conflagration with much smoke, easily put out. Just here, I think. Where the southern gallery makes a turn.” He pointed, then looked up. “Did you say Koreburo? Isn’t that the old man who used to play go with Hideo?”

Kaoru nodded. “He will be eager to help. He blames Makio and Kaibara for Hideo’s death.”

“Does he indeed? He did not say so to me.”

Kaoru shrugged. “He’s a strange old fellow, but he could have picked up something from the other servants. In any case, he can be trusted.”

Akitada gave the other man a long look, then nodded. “Very well. I will give detailed instructions to Takesuke before we meet. Meanwhile, you can make your arrangements.”

Kaoru rose and bowed. “You honor me with your confidence, sir. Allow me.” He stepped to the shutters and threw them open, letting in a gust of cold air. There was a full moon, fitfully revealed by dark clouds, but in the east the darkness grew faintly lighter. “It will be dawn in an hour. If I leave for my village immediately and carry my grandmother part of the way to Takata on my horse, Koreburo should be ready before the noon rice. Shall we meet below the manor at the start of the hour of the horse?”

“Yes.” Akitada came and looked at the driving clouds. “When will the great snow start? I have been expecting it for weeks.”

“Perhaps today, perhaps later.” Kaoru spoke with the indifference of a local man. “The snows will come in their own time.” He smiled suddenly. “It will still be possible to send the news to the capital that we have taken Takata.”

Akitada raised his brows but said only, “We will need a signal from inside the manor.”

“When all is ready, Koreburo will give the cry of the snow goose. If that is all, sir, I shall be on my way.”

After Kaoru had gone, Akitada stood for a few more moments at the open shutters. The idea of war was foreign to him. This day would decide life or death for many. Uesugi, Takesuke, and Kaoru, perhaps even the fate of an emperor along with that of an old servant who risked his life for the memory of a dead friend. His own also, and that of Tamako and their unborn child. There were no more choices, no options of escape. He had accepted this charge and offered up the lives of his family and his friends along with his own. Tamako’s warning about the letter to the capital came to his mind. Uesugi was not his only worry. Did any man have the right to gamble with the lives of others?

He sighed, hating this harsh northern land with its superstitions, its violence, its people’s predilection for secrets and plots.

There was a scratching at the door. He called, “Enter!” and closed the shutters. Oyoshi came in hesitantly.

“Do I disturb you, sir?”

“No. You are very welcome.” Afraid that his fears and self-doubts were written large on his face, Akitada was effusive, inviting Oyoshi to sit and pouring him a cup of tea.

Oyoshi looked strained, but Akitada’s fussing seemed to reassure him. “I have waited anxiously to speak to you since we found Mrs. Omeya’s body,” he said after a sip of tea. “You have been very busy, and this has been my first opportunity. How are things going, sir?”

“I will leave for Takata later today,” said Akitada, “to settle the Uesugi matter.”

“Oh, dear. Forgive me. I have chosen a bad time. Let me be brief then. I wish to resign my office as your coroner.”

“But why?” Akitada’s heart sank. He had expected something, but he pretended surprised shock.

Oyoshi smiled a little. “There is no need to spare my feelings, sir. Even before Mrs. Omeya’s death, I felt that you regretted my appointment. I made a foolish mistake with the mutilated body, and that certainly proved me incompetent. Since then, I’m afraid, there have been more serious suspicions. I won’t embarrass you or myself by asking what they are, but I wanted to tell you that I will leave as soon as you have found a replacement.”

Akitada sighed. “My friend,” he said, “and I hope I may still call you that—I have made many mistakes since I arrived. Perhaps some of my mistakes have cost lives and will cost more. Not the least of my mistakes was to doubt you. I should have known that a man who would risk his life to perform an illegal exhumation at my request would not at the same time plot against me.” He bowed to Oyoshi. “I apologize humbly for my foolishness.”

The doctor became so agitated that he spilled his tea. “Oh, no,” he cried. “Please don’t. You were quite right to suspect everyone, and who more than myself? What could you know about me, who had hidden his past from everyone? What should you think when I gave the wrong testimony in court? Why should you trust me when I was so conveniently on the premises when Mrs. Omeya was killed? You did quite right and have behaved with the greatest justice and patience towards me.”

“You will stay then?”

Oyoshi did not answer right away. He put down his teacup and wiped his fingers. “There is another thing. I killed someone,” he said softly. “I had a very bad moment when Tora said something about murderous doctors and looked at me in a very knowing way. May I tell you about it?”

Akitada said quickly, “There is no need. I am quite satisfied.”

“Allow me, sir. Many years ago, in another province, I served as personal physician to ... a powerful man. I caused my patient’s death after I discovered that my wife had spent more time in his bed than in mine. It was wrong to love her more than my duty.” He broke off and raised a hand to hide his face in shame.

“You were not found out?”

Oyoshi lowered his hand and smiled bleakly. “No. He was ill and I attended him. Once I was a very good physician. I could have saved his life, but I let him die. Afterwards I divorced my wife and left the area. I spent the next ten years traveling, working at fairs and treating the poor, earning a few coppers as a barber now and then to buy medicines. For another fifteen years after that I tried the religious life. I entered a monastery, but in the end the guilt would not leave me and it grated on my ears to be called a holy man. So I took to the road again and ended up here, where I hoped to end my life in obscurity.” He gave a hollow laugh and shook his head.

Akitada was relieved. “Legally you are not guilty of murder,” he said. “This will not prevent you from serving as coroner.”

“I must confess to yet another offense,” Oyoshi said sadly. “When I saw you at Takata, ill, outnumbered, outmanipulated, and surrounded by forces you seemed neither by background nor by personality equipped to handle, you seemed lost. Then, when you asked me to serve as your coroner, I formed the somewhat confused idea of throwing in my lot with you. Circumstances favored this, and the more I learned about you, the more convinced I became that joining your downfall would be my personal atonement. I planned to end my life with you and thus make amends for my past. But I was quite wrong. You have fought the evil in this province successfully and you will prevail, while I must continue to bear my guilt.”

For a moment Akitada was so taken aback by this that he did not know whether to laugh or be angry. Then he remembered the coming battle and said, “I suppose both my arrogance and my ignorance, obvious to everyone but me, blinded me to the local problems in the beginning. You were not wrong about me. I have little to be proud of, and had I known how badly I would bungle, I would have fled in panic. Let us hope that some good may still come of our most foolish actions. I want you to stay.”

Oyoshi brushed at his eyes. “If you truly wish it, sir,” he murmured. He rose awkwardly and stumbled from the room.

♦

Heavy gray clouds swirled above and sleet stung their faces. Below them, the forest enclosing the frozen fields looked funereal, like a black stole draped across a pallid hempen gown. It was past midday. Hours ago, Akitada and Takesuke had ridden up to the Takata gate and demanded Makio’s surrender. A hail of arrows had been their answer. After that, Takesuke had withdrawn his troops, and Akitada, along with Hitomaro and Tora, had gone to meet Kaoru.

The four would make the dangerous attempt to get inside the fortified manor. They wore straw rain capes over light armor and waited hidden among trees where they could see part of the road leading up to the manor. A quarter of the hour passed before the old woman appeared, walking slowly and leaning on the arm of a girl.

“Isn’t that your sister?” Hitomaro asked Kaoru. “Why risk her life?”

“My cousin. She usually goes along and I could not stop her.”

They waited again, nervously now, until the two women returned. The girl loosened the shawl around her head and let it blow in the wind for a moment before she retied it.

“Good girl! All is ready,” said Kaoru, adding grimly, “Let’s hope we do our part as well.”

Akitada looked up at the sky to gauge the time. There was no sun. The icy wind pushed angry gray clouds before it, clouds so low that they hid the snowy tops of the distant mountains. Wisps of cloud drifted across the dark roofs of Takata manor– shredded silk gauze from a mourner’s train.

They left the trees at a run and dashed across the road. Up the hill, still at a run, they kept mostly to a gully, a jagged scar which ran up the barren hillside. The gully gave them some cover, but then they were in the open again and close enough to the manor that a single archer on one of the galleries could pick them off one by one, like running deer.

As they ran uphill, the low clouds finally released the first heavy drops. They congealed into sleet in the cold wind and stung their faces. Akitada clasped his heavy sword to his side so it would not get between his legs and trip him. His armor was also heavy and cumbersome, and the rain-soaked straw cape flapped wetly against him. His breath soon came in hoarse gasps, his chest hurt, and his leg muscles ached, but he was ashamed to fall back behind the others. When they reached the steep outcropping under the eastern wall, he sagged against the rock, drenched in sweat despite the bitter cold.

They huddled there for a little, in a blind spot where an overhanging gallery hid them from watching eyes above, and waited for the signal. The icy wind cut through the straw coats and turned the metal scales of their armor into ice against their wet bodies. Akitada’s teeth chattered from cold and nerves.

Below the land stretched away, empty sere fields traversed by the darker line of the road. They had come from the forest to the north and followed a path so narrow and overgrown that only Kaoru had known how to find it. He had kept an eye on the ramparts above them, but they had seen no watchers. Takesuke and his men were on the other side, below the approach to the manor’s gate, and that was where Uesugi expected the attack to come from.

Here immense slabs of rock rose to an outer wall and to the black timbers of a gallery jutting into the stormy gray sky above them. Dry shrubs and stunted trees grew from cracks in the rocks. Kaoru moved along the path to one of the slabs of rock and felt it. He grunted and gave a push, and Akitada saw a crack widen into a thin black fissure.

Like the tomb entrance, Akitada thought with a shiver. He said aloud, “What about the signal?”

Kaoru nodded. “We wait a little longer, but there isn’t much time left.”

So they stood, shivering in the sleeting rain with their sword grips freezing to their perspiring palms, wondering if Koreburo had been caught. Akitada heard distant drumbeats carried on the wind in snatches. Takesuke was following instructions and exercising his troops. Akitada wished himself a common foot soldier, trotting briskly and unencumbered by heavy armor to the command of an officer. He was impatient to get this over with, to confront what lay in wait behind the stone door. Action, any kind of action, was preferable to this agonizing process of congealing in the freezing blasts.

When it finally came, that cry of the snow goose, once, and quickly again, they exchanged glances, then tossed off their straw wraps and gripped their swords more tightly. Kaoru and Tora together pushed the stone aside. A dark and narrow stone stairway ascended inside.

Suddenly, before Kaoru could take the lead, Hitomaro pushed past Akitada and disappeared into the darkness. Tora muttered a curse, and Akitada drew his sword and went after Hitomaro into the murky shaft leading upward. Hitomaro’s rapid steps sounded ahead, but it was too dark to see. What was the fool doing? At any moment he might run into danger and give them away. More steps shuffled behind, but Akitada was bent on catching up with Hitomaro.

The climb through a tight black space, only occasionally lit by air holes in the outer walls, seemed to last forever. The steps twisted, turned, and switched back. Akitada’s sword once clattered against the wall and he caught it. Someone behind him slipped and cursed softly. Sweat trickled down Akitada’s temples, and his fingers cramped around the sword hilt. He tried to listen, but his breathing and the blood pounding in his ears muffled all other sounds. If Hitomaro had encountered a guard, he was already a dead man. And so were they all.

Then he caught a faint whiff of burning oil. Wood scraped on wood and, as he turned a corner, faint light came through a grate just large enough for a man to get through. Hitomaro cowered there, a hulking black shadow, until Akitada saw his face flushed by the light as he removed the grate and slipped through the opening.

“Come, sir,” he said softly, holding out a hand to Akitada. “It’s safe.”

“That was a very foolish trick,” Akitada hissed angrily. “You might have ruined everything by rushing ahead when Kaoru knows the way.”

Hitomaro’s face was expressionless. “Sorry, sir.”

Akitada climbed out into an empty enclosed gallery. The corridor was a little over a hundred feet long, its narrow shutters closed tight against the weather, and the dim space lit at each end by large metal oil lamps attached to beams. It was silent and deserted, but they could hear men shouting outside. No doubt Uesugi’s warriors were getting ready for Takesuke’s attack.

The other two joined them. Akitada said, “Very well. Let’s see about finding Uesugi and opening that gate.” It sounded ridiculously simple to his ears and, standing there in the enemy’s stronghold, he half believed it would be.

“Come and see,” Kaoru grunted and opened one of the shutters a crack.

When Akitada joined him, he looked through a loophole from which an archer could shoot arrows into the lower entrance courtyard. Armed soldiers sat about in small groups. Black-and-white Uesugi banners were everywhere. One man carried equipment to the tower above the gate. Akitada’s heart sank. They could not reach the gate without being cut down in the attempt. Even if the men in the courtyard could be distracted long enough, the watchtower above bristled with archers.

Kaoru closed the shutter and went to put the grate back into place. “We cannot stay here,” he said softly. “Someone might come any moment. Follow me, but remember the place in case you have to run for your life.” They ran down the corridor away from the main house. Akitada chafed at this and at the fact that Kaoru had taken over and was giving the orders, but he submitted. He felt badly out of his depth.

The gallery adjoined another, equally empty, and this led to one of the service areas. Kaoru peered out cautiously. It was the kitchen yard, and deserted. No smoke came from the kitchen hearth. The cooking fires had been extinguished prior to battle. Kaoru crossed the yard, headed for a storage shed. They followed, slipped in behind him, and he closed the door.

“You’ll be safe here for the moment,” he said.

They stood in a small space filled with baskets and brooms, kettles and pails, faggots and oil jars, all the paraphernalia to keep a large household stocked. Akitada’s heart was pounding. He said, “The gate. We must reach that gate. How many men does it take to open it?”

“One, at the most two.”

Kaoru still sounded confident, but Akitada had become all too aware of his own lack of planning. “You’re sure?” he persisted, wondering if two of them could engage the soldiers he had seen, some fifteen or twenty, long enough to let the other two slip past to the gate. With the archers above, it wasn’t likely.

“There’s a counterweight. I can do it by myself.”

“We need to draw some of the soldiers away. What about that fire Koreburo was to start?”

Kaoru opened the shed door and peered out. He closed it again. “No sign of it. He should have done so already. If you’ll wait here, I’ll try to find him.” Before Akitada could protest, Kaoru had slipped out.

Akitada suppressed a sudden panic and motioned to the other two to sit down. They sat, each caught in his own thoughts, and waited in the murky semidarkness of the small shed. The smell of wood and dried grasses hung in the chill air.

Tora’s eyes were wide open and his hands twitched occasionally with suppressed excitement. Hitomaro leaned back against the wall, perfectly still, his eyes closed, his chin on his chest. Looking at them, Akitada reflected how close these two men were to him, and how danger affected them all differently. He remembered Takesuke’s fervent wish that Uesugi would attack the tribunal, while he himself had been weighed down with fears for his family and his people. Takesuke’s high spirits had struck him as irresponsible and bloodthirsty then. Now he wondered if he was the one who was inadequate to his duty. Takesuke, Tora, and Hitomaro were all trained soldiers, while he was an official. What did he know of war? Yet, by accepting this appointment, he had also accepted the possibility of having to fight.

Here he was, in unaccustomed armor and uncomfortable, feeling ambivalent about the violence he was about to face and—worse—to commit. They had gained entrance to the stronghold without being discovered, but the real test still lay ahead, and Akitada doubted that he could pass it.

If Kaoru was caught, he would be questioned under torture. Whether he revealed their presence or not, a subsequent search would find them, and then they would die ignobly here, slaughtered among brooms and braziers. There was no defense against the odds, even if it were possible to swing a sword in these cramped quarters.

It wasn’t going to be easy at all.

* * * *