Текст книги "The Emperor's Woman"

Автор книги: Ingrid J. Parker

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THE EMPEROR’S WOMAN

An Akitada Novel

By

I. J. Parker

Published by I. J. Parker

Visit I. J. Parker’s official website at

www.ijparker.com

for the latest news, book details, and other information

Copyright © I. J. Parker, 2012

Cover design by I. J. Parker

Cover image by Ogata Gekko

e-book formatting by Guido Henkel

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

Praise for I. J. Parker and the Akitada Series

“Elegant and entertaining … Parker has created a wonderful protagonist in Akitada… . She puts us at ease in a Japan of one thousand years ago.”

The Boston Globe

“You couldn’t ask for a more gracious introduction to the exotic world of Imperial Japan than the stately historical novels of I. J. Parker.”

The New York Times

“Akitada is as rich a character as Robert Van Gulik’s intriguing detective, Judge Dee.”

The Dallas Morning News

“Readers will be enchanted by Akitada.”

Publishers Weekly Starred Review

“Terrifically imaginative”

The Wall Street Journal

“A brisk and well-plotted mystery with a cast of regulars who become more fully developed with every episode.”

Kirkus

“More than just a mystery novel, (THE CONVICT’S SWORD) is a superb piece of literature set against the backdrop of 11^th-century Kyoto.”

The Japan Times

“Parker’s research is extensive and she makes great use of the complex manners and relationships of feudal Japan.”

Globe and Mail

“The fast-moving, surprising plot and colorful writing will enthrall even those unfamiliar with the exotic setting.”

Publishers Weekly, Starred Review

“…the author possesses both intimate knowledge of the time period and a fertile imagination as well. Combine that with an intriguing mystery and a fast-moving plot, and you’ve got a historical crime novel that anyone can love.”

Chicago Sun-Times

“Parker’s series deserves a wide readership.”

Historical Novel Society

“The historical research is impressive, the prose crisp, and Parker’s ability to universalize the human condition makes for a satisfying tale.”

Booklist

“Parker masterfully blends action and detection while making the attitudes and customs of the period accessible.”

Publishers Weekly (starred review)

“Readers looking for historical mystery with a twist will find what they’re after in Parker’s latest Sugawara Akitada mystery … An intriguing glimpse into an ancient culture.”

Booklist

Also By I.J.Parker

The Akitada series in chronological order

The Dragon Scroll

Rashomon Gate

Black Arrow

Island of Exiles

The Hell Screen

The Convict’s Sword

The Masuda Affair

The Fires of the Gods

Death on an Autumn River

The collected stories

Akitada and the Way of Justice

The Historical Novels

The Hollow Reed I: Dream of a Spring Night

The Hollow Reed II: Dust before the Wind

The Sword Master

The Author

I.J. Parker was born and educated in Europe and turned to mystery writing after an academic career in the United States. She published her Akitada stories in Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine, winning the Shamus award in 2000. Several stories have also appeared in collections (Fifty Years of Crime and Suspense and Shaken). The award-winning “Akitada’s First Case” is available as a podcast. Many of the stories have been collected in Akitada and the Way of Justice.

The Akitada series of crime novels features the same protagonist, an eleventh-century Japanese nobleman/detective. It now consists of ten titles. The Emperor’s Woman is the latest. Most of the books are available in audio format and have been translated into twelve languages.

Her historical novels are set in twelfth-century Japan during the Heike Wars. The two-volume The Hollow Reed tells the story of Toshiko and Sadahira. The Sword Master follows the adventures of the swordsman Hachiro.

Pronunciation of Japanese Words

Unlike English, Japanese is pronounced phonetically. Therefore vowel sounds are approximately as follows:

“a” as in “father”

“e” as in “let”

“i” as in “kin”

“o” as in “more”

“u” as in “would.”

Double consonants (”ai” or “ei”) are pronounced separately, and ō or ū are doubled or lengthened.

As for the consonants:

“g” as in “game”

“j” as in “join”

“ch” as in “chat”.

Remember well

Those promises of love

That bring my end—

Clouds of yesterday dispersed

By the cold breath of the mountain wind

(Fujiwara Teika, “A lady’s final reproach to her lover”)

Contents

Characters

Snow

A Dangerous Conspiracy

Genba’s Sweetheart

A Strange Case of Suicide

Murder in the Willow Quarter

Scattered Blossoms

Tokuzo’s Brothel

The Trouble with Women

The Beggars

The Grieving Father

The Wisdom of Women

Tora and the Cook

Good News and Bad News

Saburo Dismissed

Genba Takes the Blame

Out of Work

The Grand Lady

A New Ally

Tora Investigates

An Answer of Sorts

The Mountain Villa

Panic

Akiko Investigates

The Hungry Mountain

Bashan Returns

The Novice

Spies

The Journal

The Bathhouse

The Horse

Loose Threads

Historical Note

Contact Information

Characters

Sugawara Akitada – senior secretary in the Ministry of Justice

Tamako – his wife

Yasuko and Yoshitada – his daughter and son

Akiko – his married sister

Tora – his longtime retainer, a former soldier

Genba – another retainer, a former wrestler

Saburo – a severely disfigured man, a former spy and recent servant.

Fujiwara Kaneie – his superior, minister of justice.

Kobe – superintendant of the imperial police.

Nakatoshi – Akitada’s friend in the Ministry of Ceremonial

Persons Connected with the Death of the Emperor’s Woman:

Prince Atsuhira – son of an emperor, suspected of a political plot

Fujiwara Kishi – his senior wife, daughter of the regent

Fujiwara Kosehira – Akitada’s friend and Kishi’s cousin

Minamoto Maseie – Lord of Sagami, powerful provincial nobleman

Minamoto Masanaga – his son, officer in the imperial guard

Minamoto Masako – his daughter, the emperor’s “woman”

Nagasune Hiroko – her attendant in the palace

Persons Connected with the Case of the Murdered Brothel Keeper:

Ohiro – Genba’s love, a prostitute

Shokichi – her roommate, another prostitute

Tokuzo – owner of the brothel Sasaya

His mother – subsequent owner

Miyagi and Ozuru – two dead prostitutes

Bashan – a blind masseur

Kenko – a priest and chief of the beggars’ guild

Jinsai – a beggar

Mrs. Komiya – a landlady

Sosuke – a rice merchant

Abbot Raishin – abbot of a small mountain temple for shinobi training

Snow

It started snowing heavily as he made his way uphill with his burden. At first he took little notice, except that the drifting flakes cooled his skin. She was infernally heavy and awkward to hold because of her pregnancy. Besides, her long hair and parts of her clothing swept the ground and kept getting caught on branches. He would have taken her clothes off, but he needed to make this look like suicide.

He paused a moment to shift his load and use the silk of her full sleeve to mop his face. The snow was falling more heavily. He glanced up the stony path leading to the cliff. Already the dirt between the stones was turning white. He realized that this sudden snowfall was a very good thing and smiled. If he left any tracks, the snow would soon hide them. There would be nothing to show that she had not walked this steep path by herself before jumping off the cliff. Luck was with him. In the end, it was always so. He started climbing again. Best do this quickly and be on his way.

When he reached the promontory, out of breath and tired, he let his burden slide down and looked around. He was well above the villa, whose roof he could not see from here. He liked the loneliness of the spot. A hermit would have built his hut here to meditate in solitude on the Buddha. On all sides rose forested hills, hazy and immaterial behind the veil of falling snow, and the rock outcropping before him jutted over an abyss. Some fifty feet below him, a small brook splashed over and around rocks toward the valley. The sound of the waterfall that fed the brook blotted out all other small noises, even his heavy breathing.

This made him look back nervously, but all was empty except for him, the woman on the ground, and the drifting snow. Already snowflakes clung to her hair and turned the deep blue of her silk gown pale. Her face—what he could see of it—was as white as the snow. There was a little blood in her hair, not much. He had been lucky to hit her so as not to break the skin and leave stains in the house.

Her eyelids fluttered. He gasped. She was coming round. He must hurry. Moving cautiously up to the edge on the slippery rocks, he peered over. He had to make sure she would not catch on something on the way down and survive the fall. Having selected the best spot, a sheer drop fifty feet to the bed of the brook, he turned back, grasped her under the arms and dragged her to the edge. When he released her, she gave a small moan and raised one arm. Shifting her body, he got ready to give it a hard push. At that moment, she opened her eyes and looked up at him.

If she was pleading, it was too late. He was frightened into sudden action; she slipped forward and was gone.

Stunned by the momentary eye contact, he crouched near the edge. When she hit the rocks below, the sound was very small, almost lost in the rushing of the waterfall.

Then there was only the sound of the water and the silent falling of the snow. Cold crept up his hands and knees.

He shivered and slowly crawled backwards, then straightened up, and stood. The snow fell thickly, in large wet flakes. With darkness, it would become cold, and by morning the world would be covered with in a blanket of purest white.

He wiped the sweat from his face and found that his hands were shaking. That look she had given him. They said the ghosts of the murdered pursued their killers. With a muttered prayer, he started back down the path, slowly at first, and then faster, until he was running, slipping on the wet stones, brambles ripping at his clothes and hands.

A Dangerous Conspiracy

Akitada’s day began quite pleasantly. The sun had made its appearance, the children had woken them early, and now Akitada stood on the veranda, watching as they chased his wife and each other around the garden. Birds chirped and the cherry tree’s branches were thick with buds. From the front of the house came the sound of barking.

Tamako, raising her long gown and showing smooth legs and bare feet, passed him. She was rosy with exercise and called out, “The wisteria is alive. And I think it will bloom,” then squealed as Yasuko snatched at her long hair. Yoshitada, who was still too slow to be a real contender, burst into loud giggles and toddled after them.

Akitada strolled over to the wisteria, so pregnant with significance for their marriage, and studied it attentively. Tamako was right. A good omen.

He had presented her with a blossom from the ancestor of this plant on the morning after their marriage night. It had come from her own home which had been destroyed by the fire that took her father’s life. Years later, when they lost Yori, their first son, to smallpox and grew apart and bitter, the transplanted wisteria had declined and stopped blooming. Since then, both Tamako and Akitada had checked it every spring for signs of new life on the gnarled old trunk.

Whistling softly to himself, Akitada walked to his study, where Saburo awaited him with tea and hot rice gruel. Saburo, a disfigured ex-monk, had taken over many of Seimei’s functions after the old man had died.

Akitada thanked him and received in return the grotesque grimace that was Saburo’s smile. Saburo was indefatigable in his efforts to make himself useful and to prove a faithful servant. In spite of his unsavory past, Akitada had not regretted taking him on.

When his workday at the ministry began, Akitada was still in an excellent mood. He managed to finish a thick stack of dossiers before he was called to the minister’s office. Gathering them up, he went to see Fujiwara Kaneie.

Kaneie was a privileged member of the ruling clan and had managed to obtain his lucrative assignment without much effort or talent for it. The upper positions in the government were riddled with such men, while the actual work of the government was carried out by underlings or a few career officials in the lower ranks. Kaneie was one of the better senior officials in that he readily admitted his shortcomings and left the work to abler people like Akitada. He was also a friendly and affable man.

This day he seemed abstracted. He signed and stamped the last document with his seal, then handed the sheaf of papers back to Akitada. “Have you heard the news about Prince Atsuhira?” he asked.

Akitada searched his memory for Atsuhira and found, hazy by the distance of years, a rather pleasant young man he had met at one of his friend Kosehira’s parties. But, no, there had been a more recent incident. It had involved the prince’s love affair and a case of blackmail. He said, “I haven’t heard anything recently. I believe we met many years ago.” He paused, adding a little doubtfully, “I liked him then.”

The minister nodded. “Yes, he’s a very pleasant man. Married to one of the Fujiwara daughters. I cannot believe the tale. Nobody thought he had it in him.”

“Had what in him?”

“The kind of ambition that makes men overreach themselves. We all assumed he’d given up any hopes of succession, but here his name is linked to a very unsavory business. It may also involve his wife’s father and uncle. And several other high-ranking men as well. A major conspiracy, if one can believe it.”

Akitada tried to recall what he knew of the prince’s marriages. As a potential heir, he had taken one of the daughters of the present chancellor to wife. He said, “He seemed unambitious when I first knew him. But that was a long time ago, and his name has come up once before. Is he in serious trouble?”

It had been six years ago when the prince’s uncle, Bishop Sesshin, had contacted Akitada because he had feared one of the prince’s love letters had fallen into the wrong hands. The letter had contained some very incautious remarks about His Majesty.

The minister said, “Oh, yes. Exile perhaps. And he won’t be going alone.” The minister shook his head. “There are always the innocent who suffer along with the schemers.” He looked at Akitada. “I should hate to lose this post.”

Akitada was startled. “But surely not you, sir? Did you know the prince well?”

The minister gave a weak chuckle. “No, not really. But I do know his wife. The way these things go, once the censors have their teeth into a conspiracy, they make a wide sweep. I recently attended a party with him.” He paused. “Speaking of parties, I think you know Fujiwara Kosehira.”

“Yes, he’s my friend.” Akitada smiled. “And you’re right. He used to give some famous parties, but Kosehira hasn’t been in the capital for years. He has estates in Yamato and has been serving as governor of Omi Province for two years now.”

“Oh, then I regret to tell you he has been recalled to explain his role in the affair. It seems there was correspondence between him and the prince.”

“Kosehira is involved? I cannot believe it. He’s the most apolitical of men. It must be a mistake.”

“Possibly. But they used to say the same of the prince. Perhaps they kept their intentions from the world?”

“No. Kosehira would never do such a thing.” But that would not matter to his enemies. Akitada clutched the documents to his chest. “Forgive me, sir, but I think I should go to him. I hope I can give you more reassuring news when I get back.”

“I don’t think that’s very wise, Akitada.”

Akitada did not wait for any more. He rushed from the minister’s room to his own and flung the documents on the desk, telling his clerk, “Please have these delivered to the appropriate persons.” Then he dashed from the building.

What puzzled him was that Kosehira had not contacted him. That did not bode well. Perhaps he had already been arrested and was under guard somewhere.

Hurrying through the palace grounds, he was soon out of breath and a sharp pain in his side forced him to slow down. Years of paperwork had made him an old man.

He felt miserable and helpless about Kosehira. What could he do in a case of high treason? Guilt for not keeping up with the friend who had stood by him all his life shamed him. Kosehira had defended Akitada in his university days, when the unpopular Sugawara heir had been mocked by the sons of high-ranking nobles. Later, throughout Akitada’s career, whenever trouble had befallen him, he had interceded for him. And what had he done in return? Less than nothing. He had forgotten his friend, or very nearly so. Since the odd memory had invariably brought uncomfortable guilt feelings, he had banished thoughts of Kosehira quickly.

And now Kosehira was in serious trouble.

Fujiwara Kosehira’s residence occupied a large corner in the best quarter of the capital and was impressive enough to have served on two occasions as the temporary home of an empress and a crown prince. Kosehira was generous, and the house had never really been closed during the years he was absent. Akitada, still out of breath, was relieved to find no soldiers at the open gates or in the courtyard. All looked quiet enough in the spring sunshine.

His arrival was noted, however. A servant appeared, bowed, and asked his purpose.

“I understand Lord Kosehira is in residence. Please let him know that Sugawara Akitada has come to see him.”

The servant bowed again and left, Akitada following more slowly. He saw now that there were a few people about. The stables seemed unusually quiet, though. His heart grew heavy again. Surely such a lack of activity was unnatural with Kosehira in residence.

He had reached the steps to the main residence when the servant reappeared, followed by Kosehira himself.

“Akitada,” his friend cried. “I’m so glad to see you. How did you know? It’s very good of you to come so quickly when I’ve only just arrived myself.” The smile was the old Kosehira’s, but there was something drawn and tense about him. His slightly corpulent figure seemed to have shrunk, become less buoyant and bouncy.

Akitada ran up the steps and they embraced. For a moment emotion nearly choked Akitada. He made up for it by clasping Kosehira very tightly to himself. They hugged, laughed a little, and patted backs, then finally parted to study each other’s faces.

Kosehira had lost weight and looked older. There were lines in his face and a few gray hairs in his mustache. Akitada felt a surge of affection for him, stronger perhaps because of having neglected him.

“How is the family?” he asked.

Kosehira chuckled. “Thriving. There seem to be more children running around every year. Mind you, I’m very fond of them all, but I’ve been known to mix up their names. And their mothers.” He rolled his eyes. “Not advisable, my friend. You’re lucky you have only one wife to worry about.”

“You used to urge me to take more.”

“I know. And I love all my ladies. Come in. I think we can get something to eat, but I only just got here.”

The news had spread quickly if Kaneie already knew. That was ominous.

They settled down in Kosehira’s study, which looked dim and smelled unused, but two servants appeared quickly with a brazier of glowing coals and trays with snacks and wine.

Akitada waited until they had left again and Kosehira had poured their wine before saying, “I just heard a strange a story from the minister. I still cannot believe it, but I rushed over so fast that I was out of breath. Is it true? Kaneie thinks you’re in danger of arrest for treason.”

Kosehira made a face. “No, no. There is some confusion. Don’t worry, Akitada. All will be well. I came up to straighten out a few things, that’s all. It’s nothing … or rather, it affects someone else. But drink your wine and let’s catch up on family news. How is your lovely lady? And the little ones?”

Kosehira hardly touched his wine, and Akitada was not at all satisfied, but since his friend seemed eager to hear about Akitada’s new little son—well into his third year by now—he complied. Kosehira then recited the names and ages of his own large brood, his face softening as he recounted their achievements and amusing tricks.

Happy children, thought Akitada, to have such a father who doted on them and had the leisure to spend time with all of them. He never seemed to have enough himself.

When they ran out of family matters, Akitada said, “Kosehira, something is wrong. Will you not tell me about it?”

His friend’s smile faded, and he looked away. “It’s nothing I want you to become involved in, Akitada. The last thing you need is more enemies among those in power.”

Akitada smiled wryly. “You don’t think my reputation is sufficiently good yet to keep me out of trouble?”

Kosehira did not smile. He said bluntly, “No, I don’t. Not for something like this. And I won’t be able to do anything for you.”

Taken aback, Akitada sat silent for a moment, but their long friendship overcame the slight resentment. “I expect you’re right. I’ve relaxed because things have been quiet lately. I like Kaneie, and he likes me, but I tend to forget how dispensable I am and what long memories some people have.”

“Forgive me for speaking harshly, Akitada.” Kosehira reached across to touch his hand. “I don’t want to be the one to bring you more trouble.”

“I know that. But I’ve just been told that you’re involved in some conspiracy with Prince Atsuhira, so there’s no point in keeping things from me. I will try to find out what I can whether you take me into your confidence or not.”

Kosehira sighed. “Akitada, I tell you, this is not for you. Think of your family. And you with a new little son. I would never forgive myself—.”

“Tell me, Kosehira!”

“Did you ever meet the prince?”

“Yes. Here, in your house. I thought him a nice man … in spite of his imperial blood.”

A weak chuckle greeted that. “A very nice man. I got to know him well over the years. He’s married to one of my cousins, the regent’s daughter. Kishi prefers to use her Chinese name, even though Atsuhira is no longer considered for the succession. That will tell you how proud she is. Those girls were all raised to be empresses someday. The disappointment that he didn’t want the succession weighs heavily on her.”

So possibly, Atsuhira’s wife was behind this. Perhaps her aspirations had suggested the plot. Women could be very fierce when they fought for their families. He wondered if there were children.

Kosehira sighed again and went on. “There was an affair. I knew about it because we corresponded. He was very deeply in love and planned to take the young woman to wife. I suspect Kishi found out. In her anger, she must have made some allegations, and that’s why Atsuhira has been charged. I’m involved because of our correspondence. There you have the whole story. There’s no truth to the conspiracy rumor. It’s all due to the fabrication of a passionate woman with enough power to destroy her husband.”

Akitada digested the information. The prince was an inveterate womanizer and clearly it had got him in trouble again. And once again, there was a letter trail. Though this time, Akitada was too late to fix the problem.

He said, “There must be more to it than that. They would not move against him otherwise. He’s the son of the last emperor. What of his father? Can’t he do something to protect him?”

Kosehira grimaced. “The retired emperor is in ill health and has forsaken the world rather more completely than most. He resides like a hermit in the wilderness of Mount Hiei, hoping for sainthood. Such men have truly abandoned their families.”

“That’s both ridiculous and reprehensible!” snapped Akitada.

His passion brought a slight smile to Kosehira’s drawn face. “Irreverent as always. You know, Akitada, part of your troubles come from the fact that you don’t behave as you ought to. It upsets people.”

“I know. I try to curb my tongue as best I can.” Akitada smiled, then sobered. “What does Atsuhira say? You say you corresponded. Do you recall any comments in his letters to you that could be called treasonous?”

Kosehira did not answer right away. He looked down at his hands folded on his lap. After a long moment, he said, “We would occasionally pass an observation on events. That’s only natural and didn’t mean anything. As for the prince’s reaction to the charges against him, I don’t like betraying a confidence, especially of this kind, but he’s in dire straits and does absolutely nothing to defend himself. Perhaps you can at least advise me how to get through to him.” He gave Akitada a pleading look. “For the past three months he hasn’t answered my letters, and he refuses to see me. His personal servant is frantic. He fears that Atsuhira will take the dark path. He hardly eats and spends hours staring straight ahead with tears pouring down his face. I’m at my wits’ end. I write—no answer. I go to see him—no admittance. I’m turned away from his house like an enemy. I cannot find a single man who was once his friend and will now speak for him or about him. I tell you, Akitada, if it weren’t so infernally dangerous, I would have turned to you long ago.”

“Well, I’m here now. And since the prince’s troubles are also yours, I suppose, they become mine as well. You describe a man who seems to be in mourning. And you mentioned a woman.”

Kosehira nodded. “Very astute of you. Yes. Oh, the affair is still officially a secret, but you’re right. Her death accounts for the fact that he doesn’t seem to care what happens to him.” Kosehira paused in indecision and searched Akitada’s face. Heaving a deep breath, he said, “Perhaps I’ll be forgiven this indiscretion. Atsuhira fell deeply in love with a … er … very highly-placed young woman, and she returned his passion. Apparently, they met secretly in his summer place in the mountains. One day last winter, he got there late and found her gone. She’d left behind her cloak and veiled hat, her box of cosmetics, and her horse.” Kosehira paused to drink some wine.

“Do you mean to tell me that a young gentlewoman rode alone into the mountains to meet her lover? At night? And in winter? I find that somewhat hard to believe.”

“I expect it was still day time. Besides, the lady was unusual. Still, the whole situation is highly reprehensible and very secret. Oh, well, I see I’ll have to be totally frank. Just keep it to yourself. The prince’s beloved was the Lady Masako.”

Akitada’s jaw dropped. Even he, who paid no attention whatsoever to court gossip, knew about Lady Masako, daughter of Minamoto Masaie, lord of Sagami. Her reputation had preceded her to the capital when she arrived to serve the emperor. Her father had raised her like a son. She rode horses and was rumored to wear male clothing. She allegedly had greater skill with bow and arrow or a sword than most men. And she was said to be very beautiful. Her father had intended her to catch the young emperor’s eye. Shocked, Akitada asked, “I recall hearing something about her death.”

“Not the truth. The court suppressed details because of the scandal. They gave out she succumbed to an illness while visiting her aged nurse.”

“What happened?”

“Apparently she threw herself off a cliff near the villa. He found her the next morning. It’s this that has deranged him.”

Akitada frowned. “If he stopped speaking to you, how did you find out?”

Kosehira gave him a fond look. “I was in the capital on provincial business that week. We spent some hours together the very evening it happened and chatted long over wine. That was what made him late that night. I’d never seen him so happy, so excited to see her. The next day, he was a changed man, wild-eyed and shaking, frantic because he didn’t know what to do. I didn’t either, and you were out of town. In the end I went to Kobe. A good man! He handled everything most discreetly.”

This time, astonishment left Akitada speechless. He sat staring at Kosehira, trying to comprehend how a police investigation had been managed without a word getting out.

Kosehira seemed to find nothing remarkable in it, for he continued after tossing down another cup of wine. “Before you get suspicious again, there was never any doubt about it being suicide. She was alone. The old couple, who look after the villa during the winter months, were asleep in their own house, and the prince thinks she was distraught. He told me about her state of mind because I asked him how he found her. She had written him that they could not meet again, and that she could not live without him. They searched for her all night, he and the caretaker. It snowed that night, so it wasn’t until the following morning that he found her. He went to the cliff, half afraid, and looked over. That’s when he saw an odd pile of snow in the creek below and a bit of her blue robe showing. Some animal had disturbed it.” Kosehira shuddered and rubbed a hand over his face. “Horrible! Can you imagine what the poor man must’ve felt? Filled with happiness one day, and losing her the next. What a night he must have spent. And to find her at the bottom of the cliff, all broken.” Kosehira’s voice shook.

Akitada was silent. Yes, it was unimaginable. He thought of Tamako and how he would feel if she killed herself like that, leaving him to find her broken body. No, she would never do that to him. This couple had not been happy lovers before this happened. There must have been a reason for her sudden decision.

He asked, “Is her suicide in some way connected with this charge of conspiracy against His Majesty?”

Kosehira looked surprised. “I don’t see how it could be. She died almost four months ago, long before the present troubles.”

“Perhaps the charges were trumped up in order to punish the prince for seducing one of the emperor’s women and causing her to take her life.”