Текст книги "The Crane Pavilion "

Автор книги: Ingrid J. Parker

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Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

22

An Old Acquaintance

Much as he disliked it, Akitada knew he had put off for too long speaking with his former friend Tasuku or, as he was now known, the Reverent Abbot Genshin. He wished he had kept up better with the abbot’s religious career. All he knew was that he had great influence at court—not much surprise there, given his youth spent in idle seduction of court ladies—and was considered a holy man and brilliant teacher. This last, Akitada found hard to swallow, but given his low opinion of the views of men and women at court, he could well believe it.

Nakatoshi had told him Genshin’s monastery was at the foot of Mount Hiei and called Daiunji. Akitada decided he would inform himself of its exact location and then ride into the mountains north of the capital. It was lucky that he had not yet sent the horses into the country.

As it turned out, Daiun-ji was a mere six miles from his house. It would be an easy journey through a mountain scenery in all its autumn glory. The temple had been founded by a Fujiwara almost a hundred years ago and was a favorite with the court because it allowed visits by women and was much easier to reach than the temples on the steep sides of Mount Hiei. None of this surprised Akitada. He had expected Tasuku to choose a retreat close to the capital and the court. Of course, this convenience also made possible frequent visits to his former home and a kept mistress there.

The weather had been sunny again, and the air was fresh without being cold. Akitada had been cooped up inside for much too long.

After making arrangements for his absence and putting aside worries over Saburo and Tora as premature, he set out early the day after his sister’s astonishing revelations. He hoped to find out the truth about the dead woman once and for all. In the back of his mind lurked the suspicion that Tasuku had had a hand in this woman’s death also.

The road was well kept and smooth, no doubt to make travel by ox carriage more comfortable for ladies or pampered courtiers. It wound pleasantly through foothills covered with stands of pine and cryptomeria. Here and there, touches of brilliant red marked the season when maples suddenly burst into flame.

In the valley that the road followed as it wound its way into more mountainous regions, the rice had been harvested, leaving only yellow stubbles behind. Akitada was vaguely aware that it had been a good year. Much of what had happened in the world around him he had noted only as if through a mist or heard as indistinct noise from far away. He had built a cocoon about himself to keep life out while he dwelled inside with his thoughts of death.

Even now, he felt guilty for taking pleasure in the beauty of the day, the slow and elegant gliding of a hawk in the blue sky, the smooth movement of his favorite horse beneath him.

He reached the village of Iwakura before noon and got directions to Daiun-ji. The Great Cloud Temple was not precisely in the clouds; Mount Hiei loomed high above it. It was, however in a high valley of the foot hills and hidden from view. The location was quite beautiful and peaceful. Having been well-endowed by the Fujiwara family, it had become the favorite temple and monastery of imperial princes. A charming pagoda and many elegant halls nestled in the idyllic landscape.

Akitada handed over his horse to one of the monks, then announced himself to the gate keeper by name with the request to see abbot Genshin.

The gatekeeper, used to more impressive visitors, said, “His Reverence regretfully does not receive visitors. He is in seclusion.”

Akitada was irritated, but there was no point in taking his resentment out on this monk. He asked for paper and ink and wrote a short note: “I came to see the morning glories. Alas, I find them long gone, and only the sound of the waterfall is in my ears.”

The woman whose death had sent his former friend to take his vows had been called Asagao, the morning glory flower. It was perhaps unkind to remind the revered abbot of his past, but Akitada thought it would get him an interview. He was after all the only man who knew that shameful story.

He gave the monk the note, asking that it be delivered, and then strolled into the temple grounds. The main halls were quite large and beautifully made, with their green tile roofs curving elegantly above the white plaster, black beams, and brilliantly red railings. It looks like the great halls of the Daidairi, the imperial city in the capital below, he thought. He had no interest in seeing the inside of any of them but noted smaller buildings, some richly tiled, others with dark bark-covered roofs, tucked away here and there among the trees of the hillside. All of them were, no doubt, residences for monks of imperial blood or semi-retired royals. It was a peaceful and comfortable life here, far distant from the political and social struggles and stresses of the capital below. He wondered which of the buildings served as the abbot’s quarters, and thought that the former Tasuku had been greatly honored to have been named abbot of a monastery where so many of much higher rank had sought refuge.

These thoughts still preoccupied him when a slender young monk in a rather fine silk stole called out to him. The young monk looked at him curiously as he offered to take him to see Genshin.

“His Reverence normally does not see visitors during his meditations,” he told Akitada, hoping for an explanation.

“I was not aware of the abbot’s schedule,” Akitada said with a smile.

This cast the monk into a shocked silence.

The abbot’s quarters turned out to be only a short distance from the zendo, the meditation hall. Akitada’s guide pointed this out.

“I’m glad he didn’t have far to go in that case,” Akitada commented dryly.

Another silence ensued and lasted until they had climbed the wide steps with finely lacquered railings to a veranda where the monk called out, “Lord Sugawara, Reverence” and threw wide a pair of double doors.

Akitada walked into a spacious room, dimly lit through latticed windows. The floor was highly polished black wood, and a raised platform ran along the back wall. It was covered with thick tatami mats. In its center, stood the abbot’s chair, and in it sat Tasuku, dressed in dark gray silk with a rich, multi-colored stole draped across his left shoulder.

For a moment, Akitada thought he was expected to kneel on the floor below and bow to this man. He stopped abruptly and scowled.

Abbot Genshin smiled and rose smoothly. Stepping down from the raised dais, he came toward Akitada with outstretched hands.

“My dear Akitada,” he said in the familiar warm voice. “I had almost given up hope. But what a joyous day it is! You look well, but thinner than I recall. Come sit with me in the garden-viewing room.” He gestured toward a door.

They walked into the next, much smaller room which contained little beyond the thick tatami mats on the floor and a cushion or two. But here the screened doors had been opened wide to a narrow veranda and beyond it, to the most beautiful small garden Akitada had ever seen. Perfectly clean white gravel separated the building from lush mossy ground where ferns and small, clipped azalea bushes gave way to pine, willow, eucalyptus, and maple. There were no flowers, but the willow had turned a brilliant yellow, and the maple a deep red. Willow leaves spread like gold across the dark green moss and a small stone lantern. It was exquisite.

But this beautiful view did nothing for Akitada’s mood. He did not want to be here. He sat down and looked resentfully at the abbot.

Genshin was both heavier and older, and this did not suit him. It gave Akitada some satisfaction to see that the years had not left the handsome Tasuku unscathed. Only the large, soulful eyes remained. No doubt they were still useful in turning people’s heads.

Before Akitada could say anything, a small boy, beautifully dressed in a red brocade robe and white silk trousers, came in with a tray which he placed between them.

Genshin smiled at him. “Thank you, Sadayoshi. That was very neatly done.”

The boy grinned, revealing a missing front tooth, and bowed before scampering out.

“A novice,” Genshin explained. “One of the sons of the chancellor. He is a good boy.”

Perhaps it was meant to impress or even intimidate him. Akitada did not know what to say to it. He would not wish a monastic life on his own son, even if there were compensations of comfortable living. But many of the highest ranking nobles dedicated younger sons and daughters to the religious life, hoping thereby to gain entrance to paradise after their own deaths. He covered the awkward silence by taking a drink from the lacquered cup. The fruit juice was delicious, with a taste of oranges and wild berries.

Genshin was studying him. “I heard something about you from time to time,” he said. “You are still in the Ministry of Justice, I think?”

Akitada was not, but he nodded rather than giving explanations.

“And your efforts at finding out evil and arresting evil-doers have, I think, brought you considerable distinction over the years,” Genshin went on. It was said teasingly, implying that such activities were trivial amusements.

Akitada did not take the bait, if that was what it had been. It must be an uncomfortable subject for the abbot, who had been involved in one of Akitada’s earliest investigations and had trusted him to keep a secret that would most certainly disqualify him from his present position.

“I’m still engaged in the same line of work,” he said stiffly.

Genshin smiled. “Ah, you came with an ulterior motive then. No, no, don’t apologize. I’m very grateful that your work has finally brought you to me, Akitada. I have often thought of you, and always with great fondness.”

The same was not true for Akitada, who had rarely ever thought of Tasuku, and when he did, it had been with distaste. But this was not the time to rake up the past. Suddenly aware of an oversight that must have struck the other man as very rude, he asked, “How are you these days?”

“Well enough, as you see.” Genshin’s manner had become cooler; perhaps he had finally sensed Akitada’s dislike.

It did not matter. Akitada said, “The fact is that I do have a particular reason for my visit.” He hoped to get the interview over with as quickly as possible. “There has been a death in your former home in the city. I assume you are aware of it?”

Genshin’s gaze did not waver. “Yes, of course. Regrettably, one of my tenants has chosen the path into the darkness rather than the Way to salvation. I was saddened to hear it.”

Akitada said curtly, “She was murdered.”

Genshin’s eyes widened. “What?”

“Perhaps you’ll consider it good news, in that the lady did not take her own life. I assume the Way is still open to her?”

Genshin compressed his lips. “Don’t sneer at such matters, Akitada. You have changed. You used to be kind and gentle when I knew you. Now you are hard and cruel. If this is what a life spent dealing with human violence does to a man, I regret it very much. As to your question, yes, if she did not take her own life, Lady Ogata may be well on her way to salvation by now. She was a good person and a devout believer. But I am sorry to think you have taken a false way, and that it has deprived you of the joy you once found in your life.”

Akitada flushed. It was true that his life had become joyless. And there had been other joyless periods before as well, but these had been caused by other losses. Every time, a man lost something he loved, he became diminished, and his life became more of a burden. But this was not the time to discuss such matters. He bit his lip and said, “You don’t seem at all curious about her murder. I’m interested in what you can tell me about the lady. You allowed her to live on your property, so I assume you were close?”

Genshin chuckled softly. “I see you don’t believe I could change. In your eyes, I shall always be the frivolous seducer of women. Even in your youth, you disapproved strongly of my life, though you did not precisely say so then. I recall out final meeting. Perhaps I should have realized then how very disappointed and angry you were with me, but I was rather upset myself at the time. Never mind. I see we must speak more bluntly now. I was not Lady Ogata’s lover. Neither recently, nor before I took my vows. I have not touched a woman since then.” He made a face. “The sacred scriptures teach us that women are dirty and unworthy of salvation because of their inferior condition. Women seduce us to satisfy their own desires for pleasure, pleasure that is both physical and mental. They glory in their power over us, and in our weakness we stray from the path to salvation.”

“Don’t insult my intelligence with such nonsense,” snapped Akitada. “I lost my wife this past spring. She was the purest creature I ever knew, the kindest and most supportive of wives, the most generous and forbearing companion. She is the one who gave me strength. You know nothing about women in spite of your wild past.”

Genshin raised his brows. “I did not know of your loss. I’m very sorry, Akitada.”

“Spare me the condolences. I’m anxious to be on my way. Just tell me what you know about Lady Ogata and why you decided to offer her shelter and support.”

The abbot looked at Akitada reproachfully and said nothing.

“Can you live with your conscience, letting a killer go free?”

“I rather doubt this will happen,” Genshin said, making a face. “You are not the man to let a murder rest. But I will not betray a confidence. You used to respect such things long ago.”

Akitada got up. “Don’t remind me! You, too, have changed, Tasuku,” he said harshly. “You used to be merely a selfish courtier, taking your pleasure wherever you pleased. But I see you’ve become something altogether more despicable.”

Genshin turned his head slightly, and Akitada saw that the door to the interior was slightly open, and a number of avidly listening monks and young boys were peering at them. They looked aghast. No doubt they had never heard their holy abbot spoken to in this manner. He knew he should apologize and leave as quickly as possible.

Genshin said quite calmly to his listeners, “Close the door and go away, please. There is no need for concern.” To Akitada he said, “Sit down again, Akitada. I regret that you think so poorly of me. I will tell you what I may without betraying the confidence.”

Akitada said nothing but sat down again.

“One of the men who worship here came one day and told me of the shocking condition of a young woman of high birth. Having made a foolish marriage, she found herself abandoned by her family and her husband. She lived in a small shack beside the Kamo River where kind people would sometimes leave her some food. Greatly shocked by the story, I went to see for myself, and found this to be true. She gave her name as Lady Ogata and accepted refuge in my house in the city and a small stipend from the temple. It is barely enough for her food and certainly not what a rich man would spend on his mistress.” Genshin gave Akitada another reproachful look. “I could do no more without setting tongues wagging—clearly a forlorn hope, given your visit. You may think what you wish, but over the years I have given refuge to others like her, and they promised to look after her. I never saw her again after that day.”

Akitada thought this over. “You say she was of high birth. Who was she? Why was she abandoned?”

Genshin shook his head. “That I will not tell you. When I was told she had committed suicide, I believed it. She had lived a short and very sad life. But she did not seem desperate to me when I talked to her beside the Kamo River. Rather there was a strange joy about her. I took it to be of a spiritual nature. She said she was a devout believer in the Way.” He paused. “And now I must see to my duties. I wish you well, Akitada. I wish you the serenity of Lady Ogata.”

Akitada made his return journey in such a temper that he no longer saw the beauty of the mountains around him, or the vast view of the capital, spread before him in the golden haze of the evening sun.

23

A Good Name is Forever

It was nearly dark by the time he entered the capital. As soon as he reached First Avenue, he headed east, turned down one of the smaller streets and arrived at his sister’s home.

His brother-in-law, Toshikage, held a modest rank similar to his own, but unlike Akitada he had inherited vast provincial estates so that his income was only affected by an occasional poor harvest. The ready supply of funds allowed him to settle for posts that did not strain his energy while allowing his wife to enjoy the company of the highest-ranking ladies in the nation.

It was the latter fact that made her a very useful ally in the present case, and Akitada was eager to share with her the information he had gleaned from Genshin. It was little enough, but with her own knowledge of society gossip it might be enough.

Toshikage’s servants knew him well and took his horse, directing him to their master’s study. Toshikage, it seemed, was home early. This was not unusual, and Akitada was happy enough to see him. He liked Toshikage.

He found his brother-in-law dusting and rearranging his collection of small figurines and lacquer boxes. They had, in fact, met over Toshikage’s love and care for small works of art, though in that case it had been a figurine belonging to the emperor which had mysteriously disappeared while in Toshikage’s possession. Akitada had just returned from service in the far north and found his older sister married to a man suspected of having stolen imperial treasures, and his younger sister’s lover in jail on a murder charge. Those had been tumultuous months in his life, also marked by the death of his step-mother. Both men had proved to be innocent, and both had won Akitada’s respect and gratitude as he theirs.

Now Toshikage greeted him with a cry of joy and a long embrace. “My dear Akitada,” he kept repeating while squeezing him quite hard. “My very dear Akitada. It gives me such pleasure to see you.” He released Akitada long enough to study his face anxiously. “How are you, brother? Holding up all right? Must be strong for the children, you know. She would have wished it.”

Akitada smiled a little bleakly as he freed himself. “I know,” he said. “I try. But enough sad talk. I’m parched from a ride into the mountains. Any chance of some of your good wine?”

Toshikage bustled off to fetch two cups and a flask of wine, carried these to his veranda and placed two pillows. Akitada sat down gratefully. He had become stiff in all the weeks he had kept to his room without any exercise. Now he was tired, and his back and weak leg pained him.

“So you had a pleasant ride?” Toshikage asked, smiling at him. “Good, good. Can’t sit still all day. Bad for the constitution. You’ll soon be your old self again, you’ll see.”

Akitada smiled back and nodded. He would never be his old self again, he knew, but Toshikage was such a naturally cheerful fellow that talk of death and loss made him quite miserable.

“I went to speak to an old acquaintance of mine, Abbot Genshin.”

“Oh, him! He’s got quite a reputation I hear. I didn’t know he was a friend of yours.”

“Not a friend.” Akitada grimaced at the memory of that very unpleasant meeting. “Or at least not any longer. I knew him as a student when he was Takashina Tasuku.”

“I see. He no longer pleases you? He’s supposed to be a very learned and holy man.”

“Learned perhaps. Tasuku was always a very good student. Holy, I doubt. He still flatters the powerful and seeks their company.”

Toshikage chuckled. “Akiko would remind you that you should learn from him.”

Akitada managed another smile. “Yes. I actually came to speak to her also. She knows a little about a case I’m interested in.”

Toshikage clapped his hands. “Oh, good! You’re working again. That’s great news. I don’t mind telling you, we were very worried about you. Yes, very worried. Akiko couldn’t sleep at night for thinking about you and the children.”

This surprised Akitada, but his sister had surprised him once or twice before. He promised himself to be more patient with her irritating habits in the future. He said, “I’m sorry to hear it. It’s been very difficult, and still is. She may have told you that I lost my position in the ministry and, unless the grand minister relents, I am without income for the foreseeable future. It seems I shouldn’t have left my post in Kyushu to come home.”

Toshikage’s face fell. “She did say something, but surely, brother, such a thing will not be allowed to happen. No, I think you both take a much too negative view of things.” His face brightened. “Come, take another cup of wine and cheer up.”

Toshikage was notorious for not worrying about imminent disasters. But he might be right in this case. There was no point in assuming the worst would come to pass. Akitada drank another cup of wine and felt grateful for Toshikage’s cheerful outlook.

They were interrupted at this point by Akiko, who sailed in, her face flushed and her silk robes fluttering behind her. When she saw her brother, she stopped. “Akitada!” she cried. “Why didn’t someone tell me? Is anything wrong? Did you get news from court?”

Her worries about his career and livelihood were foremost in her mind, and for Akitada this cancelled out the more positive mood her husband’s optimism had produced.

He shook his head. “No, Akiko. At least … I haven’t been home yet. I just returned from a visit to the Daiun-ji temple.”

“Oh?”

Toshikage smiled at his wife. “On your way to see the empress? My dear, your costume is exquisite! And so are you!” He turned to Akitada, “Isn’t she breathtaking? No woman can carry off those colors with such grace and elegance.”

Akiko brightened and paraded her finery. “It did turn out well,” she said smugly.

Akitada knew little about courtly color schemes. But he saw she wore traditional fall colors ranging from darkest green to glowing reds. Toshikage was right. The colors suited her much better than the gentler tones Tamako had favored. Akiko was forceful and spirited to a degree that was surely unsuitable in a woman of her rank, but possibly this very flaw made her a favorite among ladies of the highest rank. Akitada got a sudden inkling that women might wish to be more like her. In any case, she was blessed in having found a husband who so doted on her that she could do no wrong in his eyes.

He looked at both with affectionate tolerance. They were his family, he thought, and felt grateful.

Having shown off her costume, Akiko sat down and returned to her other current interest. “So you went to talk to the much-revered abbot, Akitada? And what did he have to say?”

Akitada made a face. “Very little, as it turned out. It wasn’t a pleasant visit. I don’t like the man.”

Akiko frowned. “Honestly, Akitada, I sometimes despair of you. I expect you let him know that.”

“Perhaps.”

“No wonder he would not give you any information. Why should he? And have you forgotten how much influence he has with the emperor and the Fujiwaras? He could have helped you.”

Akitada was disgusted at the thought of being obligated to Genshin for any favors and said so.

Akiko heaved an impatient sigh. “Well, did you find out anything at all, or was it a wasted trip? And possibly a big mistake.”

Akitada snapped, “I will not, at my age, beg for favors from men like him. I ought not to have to beg in any case. It’s undignified.”

To his surprise, Akiko smiled. “Then you should act like it. Demand the recognition you deserve.”

“Yes, brother,” cried Toshikage. “Akiko has it right. Why should you kneel and bow and beg. They owe you. Listen to your sister. She’s brilliant, as always.”

Akiko gave her husband an impatient glance. “Akitada doesn’t listen to my advice. Never mind. Now tell me already what Genshin said.”

“He claims Lady Ogata was stranger to him, that someone told him of her homeless plight—she was living in a shack beside the Kamo River, he says—and that he offered her a home and a small amount of money from the temple.”

Akiko gasped. “She lived in a shack?”

“It may be a lie.”

“Oh, I don’t know. If she’s Masakane’s widow, it’s likely enough. I’m on my way to find out.”

“Wait. Masakane is dead?”

“Yes. They say he died in exile. Apparently it was an accident.”

This could explain why Genshin had believed Lady Ogata’s suicide. Akitada said, “But we cannot be certain it is the same woman, can we?”

Akiko got up as gracefully as she had sat down. “That is precisely why I’m on my way to pay a courtesy visit to Her Majesty.” She gave Akitada a triumphant smile.

“How did you wrangle that?”

Akiko gathered her train and headed for the door. “Oh, I have my ways,” she threw back over her shoulder and left.

Toshikage’s eyes were on the door as it closed behind his wife. “Isn’t she magnificent?” he breathed.

Akitada chuckled, then sobered quickly. Toshikage’s doting on his wife reminded him of his own loss. “Well,” he said. “I’d better be on my way also. I’ll look in on Kobe tomorrow to tell him what we’ve learned so far.”

*

Kobe greeted him eagerly and dismissed his staff. When they were alone, he asked with a searching look, “My dear Akitada, how are you? I’ve been expecting you.”

Akitada seated himself and brushed a hand over his face. “Since you ask, I don’t know how I am. I’ve put grieving aside to take care of urgent business and look some more into the death of Lady Ogata.” He was suddenly struck by something. “You’ve been expecting me? Why?”

Kobe looked uneasy. “I thought you’d come about Saburo.”

“Oh! Have you found him? Tora was out looking for him.”

“We’ve found both of them,” Kobe said heavily. “They are under arrest.”

In Akitada’s family this was not an unusual state of affairs. Both Tora and Saburo, singly or together, got caught from time to time in some questionable activities while they pursued investigations. He said therefore, “What have they done this time?”

“The charge is murder.”

Still not greatly disturbed, Akitada raised his brows. “Whom did they kill?”

“A man called Hankei. Apparently a crooked gambler. Saburo confronted him with using false dice, and the man ran. The next day, the warden sent constables to a house in the quarter where neighbors observed suspicious activities. They found Tora and Saburo trying to get rid of Hankei’s body.”

“Yesterday Tora returned home alone after their night of gambling—which they engaged in as part of an investigation into the murder of a moneylender. He told me they got separated. When Saburo didn’t return, I sent Tora to look for him. Neither would kill a smalltime gambler over a crooked game.”

Kobe nodded. “Probably not, but it looks bad for them.”

Akitada shook his head in disbelief. “Oh, come! What do they say?”

“That they found him already dead.”

“That’s it then. You’d better let them go.”

“I can’t.” Kobe shuffled about among the papers on his desk and handed Akitada a letter. It bore the seal of the Ministry of Justice and was signed by Senior Secretary Sakanoue. The text was short and to the point: “You are hereby advised that Sugawara Akitada is under investigation for various infractions and that any collaboration between the imperial police and Sugawara will force the government to institute a separate investigation of your office for improprieties in procedure.”

Akitada swallowed. He was deeply shocked by this news. It meant that Kobe was suspected of having perverted justice as a favor to him. For an awful moment, he wondered if Kobe’s political problems stemmed from this. Then he realized that the letter had not been signed by the minister, Fujiwara Kaneie. It must all be Sakanoue’s doing. The man feared for his job and wanted to make as much trouble as possible for him. But there might still be someone else behind this.

He returned the letter. “Kaneie didn’t sign,” he said.

Kobe nodded. “Who is this Sakanoue? He has your old position, doesn’t he?”

“Yes. I only met him briefly and didn’t like him, and not just because I have been supplanted by him. I take it this isn’t about Tora and Saburo?”

Kobe sighed. “I don’t know. If it is, I have spies about me. But it doesn’t really matter. You can see I cannot let them go.”

“Yes. We must endeavor to clear them before you release them.” He wanted to add that Tora had spent the night in question at home, but he did not know when the man had died, and Tora and Saburo had both gambled with him and had probably been seen running after him.

Kobe looked miserable. “I’m sorry, Akitada. There is another complication. They were involved in a murder case that is about to go to trial. I think someone is making very sure they don’t interfere again.”

Akitada sat up, suddenly alert. Could Genshin have taken this step to foil him and protect himself? “Which case?”

“A blind woman allegedly killed a man because he made sexual advances to her. Saburo has been looking into this, and Tora joined him. That’s why they were gambling. They suspected a man called Kanemoto of having had a hand in the murder. Kanemoto is a gangster chief. And Saburo claims Kanemoto killed the gambler.”

Akitada tried to take all this in. “Yes,” he said, “I knew something about it. I’d told Saburo to leave the matter alone. But it troubled him enough to disobey me. Tora offered his help. It makes me think the blind woman is indeed innocent.”

Kobe was grave. “Perhaps so, but the trial is tomorrow, and she’ll be found guilty. There’s nothing I can do about it. Later, when talk has died down, it may be possible to clear Tora and Saburo. It’s all happening at a very bad time. You should not become involved while you are under investigation. And I …” He let his voice trail off.

Akitada’s spirits sank. Kobe was right. He, too, was in trouble. Somehow his unauthorized return from Kyushu had affected all of them in this impossible situation. And the blind girl would die for it, because those who could help her were in no condition to do so.

He said quietly, “Yes, I understand. I’m very sorry that I should have made things worse for you. Don’t become involved any further. Tora and Saburo are my responsibility. If you think it won’t cause more trouble, I’d like to see them.”