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The Fires of the Gods
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Текст книги "The Fires of the Gods"


Автор книги: Ingrid J. Parker



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Текущая страница: 10 (всего у книги 22 страниц)

THE ABBOT

On horseback, the journey to the Seikan-ji Temple took less than two hours. It gave Akitada a chance to pass through the center of the capital before turning towards the river. He had not been in the city for weeks. Earlier, his work at the ministry had kept him busy in the Daidairi, the greater palace enclosure in the northern part, and now he spent his time near Tamako as much as possible.

He observed for the first time the uneasiness the fires had brought to the city: piles of sandbags and stacks of buckets gathered at street corners, makeshift altars with gifts of flowers, rice, and fruit stood near shrines and entrances to city quarters, carts of charred rubble lumbered towards trash piles, and Shinto priests and their attendants performed ceremonies to appease the angry gods.

After he crossed the broad Kamo River, he entered the wooded mountains to the east of the capital. The heat and noise of the city faded, and a fragrant green world embraced him with peace and silence. Akitada had accepted the summons in a very ill spirit, but now he found pleasure in his journey. Part of it lay in being on horseback again, even if the rented horse was far from perfect and tried to bite the rider at odd moments.

Seikan-ji was a small temple and monastery, but like many imperial retreats, it was situated in a beautiful setting. The halls were rustic and of the same simple elegance as the emperor’s palace. Since it housed a member of the imperial family, the wooded grounds and buildings were beautifully kept and resembled more a series of villas in gardens than a religious retreat.

The monks wore simple but very clean brown hemp robes, but Akitada also saw groups of young boys, acolytes or students, at play. Most were probably scions of noble families and wore the colorful and expensive silks of cherished children.

He had given his name and purpose to a young monk at the gate. Another monk had taken his horse, and a third showed him to the abbot’s quarters.

In theory, an imperial prince who took the tonsure lost all claim to special honors and privileges enjoyed in his past life. His family and friends would grieve as he passed into another physical realm: that of a poor monk. In reality, that step was very carefully planned. He would choose his monastic abode from the most pleasant spots near the capital and take with him certain comforts of life, such as fine clothes, books, musical instruments, as well as favorite servants. And he stayed in contact with family and friends. In exchange, he would give up women, public life, wine, and his hair. Since, by middle age, those things had frequently lost their appeal, and official duties had become burdensome, many emperors and imperial princes took up a religious life because it allowed them to enjoy a life of leisure.

His Reverence Shokan was no exception. He resided in a small, but elegantly appointed hall among fine objects and paintings. Monks and acolytes competed for a chance to be of service, and the monastery kitchens served excellent meals, even if they tended towards the vegetarian.

Akitada had little respect for those who shirked their duties to the nation in order to indulge in a contemplative life, but even he felt an ingrained respect towards men of imperial blood. He prostrated himself before His Reverence.

Shokan received Akitada with a strange mixture of reserve and eagerness.

Like many Fujiwara relatives, he was prone to pudginess and jowls in middle age. Waving a white and dimpled hand, he said, ‘Please. I am a simple monk. Be seated, Sugawara.’

He had a high voice and lisped a little. Akitada wondered if he had been born with a speech defect or if he cultivated the childish manner. His Reverence wore black silk of such volume and stiffness that it was hard to make out his figure underneath. A finely patterned purple brocade surplice, glistening with gold threads, was draped over one shoulder.

Akitada waited politely to be told why he had been summoned and hoped His Reverence would not waste time with idle chit-chat. Some of the abbots he had met tended to make up for their absence from public affairs by getting news, gossip, and information from their visitors.

But the twitching hands and the searching eyes meant the abbot was anxious. Shokan waited only until Akitada had been served fruit juice and a bowl of pickled nuts before saying, ‘I am told that you are good at solving mysterious events.’

Akitada said cautiously, ‘Until recently it has been my honor to serve His Majesty as senior clerk in the Ministry of Justice. In that capacity, I have from time to time come in contact with puzzling criminal matters and may have offered suggestions to the police. I cannot be said to be working with the police, or as part of my official duties, or indeed regularly.’

Shokan waved that aside. ‘But you have solved difficult cases, and it is your intelligence that is needed, and perhaps your knowledge of the law.’

‘You are too generous, Reverence. My modest skills are at your service.’

‘Thank you.’ Shokan gave him a tremulous smile and dabbed a sleeve to his eyes. ‘My apologies. I am very emotional. This is the only thing that still matters to me in this life.’ He caught a breath, then burst out, ‘Oh, what does it matter? You see before you a grieving father, Sugawara. It is as if I had lost my only son.’

Akitada was mystified. He was uninformed about Shokan’s family – many noblemen did not take the tonsure until late in life – but then the abbot had said it was ‘as if he had lost a son. So not a son. ‘May I ask if this young man has died?’

‘Oh, no, I hope not.’ Shokan shuddered. ‘I could not bear that. A monk strives to give up the things of this world, but for me the struggle has been hard. How do you turn your back on someone you love?’

‘Perhaps Your Reverence had better tell me more. Your messenger said it concerns an acolyte?’

‘Yes. He is a youth now, but he came to us more than ten years ago. Right away, he was seen to be special – beautiful, gifted, and eager to learn. I saw him grow into a youth on the threshold of manhood.’ Shokan flushed a little and gave Akitada a beseeching glance. ‘You know, that delicious age when a boy is almost a man, ardent and full of heroics, yet still capable of childlike grace. Kansei looks exactly like one of those depictions of the young Prince Siddhartha before he attained Buddhahood. Oh, I hope you will find him before he is lost.’

Akitada had formed a shrewd guess of just what the relationship between Shokan and the boy had been – certainly not that of a father and son. He was irritated. As a rule, he did not judge men for engaging in sexual relationships with other men, but that Shokan should compare such bonds to those between a father and his son sickened him. What could this man know of a father’s love – or his grief when his son died? How dared he snivel over the loss of a lover who had probably simply run away from a cloying relationship with an older man. Akitada still wept for his son a year after smallpox had taken him. He still felt as if part of his flesh had been ripped away and he was no longer whole.

His silence had grown too long.

‘Well, what will you do?’ demanded His Reverence. He was staring at Akitada.

‘I beg your pardon, Reverence. I lost my only son a year ago and was remembering how that felt. Er, what was the young man’s name again?’

Instantly, Shokan’s face softened. ‘Oh, you know my pain,’ he said, nodding. ‘That is good. I gave the boy the religious name Kansei. The syllables are those of our temple, Seikan-ji.’

Apparently, Shokan considered the youth his own creation. How the youngster must have resented that. Akitada thought that any effort of returning Kansei to the abbot would prove futile. Kansei would not want to come back, and if forced to do so, would run away again. Akitada approved of that, but he could hardly say so. He asked, ‘When did Kansei leave?’

On the twenty-sixth day of the last month.’ A shuddering sigh implied the extent of suffering Shokan had endured since.

Akitada raised his brows. ‘He has been gone for nearly three weeks? Have you tried to find him?’

‘Not right away. Kansei is young and impatient. We thought he missed his mother or his former friends and had gone to see them. But if he went to his mother, she would have brought him back.’ Shokan fidgeted unhappily.

‘Did you speak to her?’

‘No. I sent for her, but she was gone also. The neighbors said she moved soon after Kansei came to us. No one seems to know what has become of her. That was when I became really worried. I am afraid that something very bad has happened to my boy.’

Akitada fished for an excuse to extricate himself. ‘Surely that isn’t likely. It seems more a matter of the youngster having taken a vacation from his religious duties.’ At that age, the acolyte might have wondered about forbidden fruit and sought out the prostitutes of the capital. ‘Did you consult the police about his disappearance?’

‘Oh, no!’ Shokan looked horrified. ‘We cannot go to the police. They are much too heavy-handed. No, no. This situation requires discretion. And loyalty. That is why I sent for you. One of my cousins, Bishop Sesshin, spoke very highly of your discretion.’

Sometimes obligations have a long reach. Sesshin had been another princely monk, one who had proved both kind and generous. A debt was being called in. Akitada sighed inwardly and reconsidered. It was possible that he had jumped to conclusions about Shokan. Perhaps the abbot had only taken a needy youngster under his wing and become fond of him. The young needed protection.

And Akitada must keep an open mind.

He said, ‘Bishop Sesshin has done me too much honor. He was a truly saintly man. I shall try my best to help you find Kansei. What does he look like and what sort of background does he come from?’

Smiling with relief, Shokan gave a glowing description of Kansei’s appearance, adding, ‘He has the most noble bearing. His mother came to me when he was small and asked me to take him because she was unable to raise him properly.’

‘What about his parentage?’

‘I assume she was a poor woman who found herself without a husband. What can it matter? The boy is exquisite. He deserves better than to live and die in the filth of the gutter.’

Akitada said nothing.

‘She claimed to have served in a noble house. I did not question this, but it may not have been true. She implied the child was the master’s son. Sometimes an official wife is jealous and dismisses a maid in such cases. It is easy to believe the boy has noble blood.’

Akitada doubted the tale; still, such things did happen and caused much unhappiness. ‘Thank you, but that isn’t much to go on. Why are you opposed to the police being involved?’

Shokan bit his lip, then reached for a small package beside him. It was tied up in a piece of blue silk. He unwrapped it, revealing five gold bars. ‘I will pay you whatever you ask,’ he said. ‘If this is not enough, there is more.’

Akitada swallowed. Between Lady Kiyowara and Abbot Shokan he had been offered payment that far exceeded his modest annual salary as senior clerk in the ministry. But such generosity sounded like a bribe and shamed him. He said stiffly, ‘You have not told me why you should wish to keep the police from knowing about the boy. Has he committed a crime? I will not protect a guilty person or cover up his offense.’

‘Of course he has not committed a crime,’ Shokan cried. ‘How can you accuse me of such a thing?’ He snatched back the gold and shoved it out of sight. ‘It seems I have made a mistake,’ he said and assumed a stiff and remote demeanor.

Akitada was sorry that he had not handled this better. He had no business making an enemy, and perhaps he had wronged the man. Probably, his years of poverty made more of five bars of gold than they were in Shokan’s estimation. He bowed and apologized.

Shokan was quickly – perhaps too quickly – appeased. ‘I can see you have your reputation to protect, Sugawara. I do not expect you to do anything improper. It is just that Kansei, being young and a little foolish, may not have gone to his mother, but become involved with dubious company. The young are easily tempted. I should like him found before he is corrupted.’

Akitada wondered what Shokan was afraid of. Most likely the novice monk was hanging around the brothels. A handsome boy could earn good money selling his body to older men. ‘Do you have any proof that he has taken up bad company?’

The abbot shifted uncomfortably. ‘He was seen by one of the monks. In a bad part of the capital, near the Western Market. With hoodlums.’ Shokan shuddered. ‘You see why I am desperate to find him before he is arrested?’

Akitada sighed. ‘Very well, I shall do my best, Reverence. You need not give me more than one gold bar until I have results. But if the youngster should have become guilty of some crime, I shall have to turn him over to the police.’

‘Agreed.’ Shokan nodded. ‘But please hurry!’

RAT BAIT

Jirokichi was in a quandary. He had thought a gift of twenty pieces of gold would satisfy anyone, let alone a young man with a family who depended on this lord who had neither wealth nor position. Yet the man who had saved him from the damned louts had returned to Hoshina to threaten Jirokichi’s life.

What was he to make of that?

It was crass ingratitude, of course. And maybe this Tora wanted to extort more money. Why else would he demand to speak to Jirokichi in person?

Hoshina was afraid and wanted Jirokichi to stay in hiding. ‘That one’s a sly one,’ she said. ‘Mark my words, he’s big trouble. And he works for an official. You shouldn’t go out at all for a while.’

Jirokichi shook his head. ‘I don’t know. Why did he help me in the first place? There was nothing in it for him. He couldn’t know I’d pay him. Something else is going on. I think it’s got something to do with the fires. He wanted to know about those.’

Hoshina’s eyes grew big. ‘You aren’t going to meddle in that, Jirokichi? That’s very bad trouble. That’ll kill you. And me, too.’

Jirokichi sighed and nodded. ‘You’re right. We’d better stay as far away from that as we can. But I still feel bad. It’s that fellow Tora that’ll get killed if he keeps poking his nose into this.’

‘Serves him right then.’

Jirokichi did not know what to say. Hoshina sometimes surprised him. He had not thought that she could be so cold about another human life. Perhaps he should be flattered that she loved him as much as all that, but in reality she frightened him.

‘All right, love,’ he said, ‘I’ll stay away from the fire business, and I’ll be careful when I go out. But there’s a job to do tonight.’

Jirokichi set out right after the hour of the rat had been called by the night watch. The time had always seemed to him preordained. It was the hour for thieves, his own time, decreed by the gods since the very beginning of the world. And the gods had blessed his work.

But his funds were running low after he had left the twenty gold pieces for Tora. There were several families in need. One of them had just lost their small tailor shop when it had burned down along with all their clients’ orders. The tailor had gone into a deep depression over what he owed to those who had trusted him with their property, and his wife had left a plea for help at one of the small altars set up to Jirokichi.

Jirokichi was embarrassed by the little altars, but they were really very useful places for people in need to leave their requests. He visited them on his nightly rambles and read the notes people had left. If he found one worthy, he paid the petitioner a surreptitious visit to make sure he or she was telling the truth.

Since the fires had started, he had found several good families in tragic need. Tonight he would steal something for the tailor.

The night was nearly perfect for his work: warm, but no longer as hot and oppressive as in the daytime. Instead the dark had a velvety smoothness that was almost a caress. A new moon hung in the sky, and stars sparked brightly, but Jirokichi was dressed in black and had blackened his face, hands, and bare feet. His shirt and pants were molded closely to his body so they would not snag when he wriggled through small windows or openings. He stayed on the shadowed sides of houses and chose alleys and narrow streets whenever he could. Moving quickly and silently, he reached the back of the large dwelling in good time.

The house was one of those ample and steeply roofed buildings like large farms in the country. Jirokichi had been here several times already to note the layout and construction of the house and outbuildings. The shop was in front and the merchant’s office right behind it. House and outbuildings were surrounded by a wall that gave access to an alley in the rear. Jirokichi had talked to neighbors about how many people lived there and had been very pleased to hear that the servants slept elsewhere. Only the merchant and his new wife remained in the living quarters at night.

The previous night he had returned to climb the roof of the main house and peer in through the hole that let the smoke escape. Below him lay the family’s large common room with its open hearth. To his surprise, there had still been a light in the office in spite of the late hour, and he had heard the murmur of male voices.

Jirokichi had contented himself with a good look around to remember the layout of the cross-beams, and then he had left quickly. It was disappointing, but when he had heard the rumble of thunder, he had been relieved. Navigating a steep thatched roof when it was wet with rain was very dangerous. The thatch turned as slick as ice.

Tonight there was no danger of rain. He climbed the rear wall and peered in. Yard and house lay silent and dark. Flinging a leg over the top of the wall, he turned on his stomach with both legs dangling inside, then lowered himself by his arms. His profession had not only made him quick and silent in his movements, but it had also given him very strong arms and legs.

He landed with a faint thud and immediately slipped behind a pile of boxes and large containers.

All remained still.

Jirokichi had not been making empty boasts when he had told Tora that he was successful only because he prepared carefully. Not all of his attempts turned up good targets. Some wealthy men’s houses were inaccessible because of night-time guards, or a noisy dog or mewling cats. The latter problem he had once thought to solve by returning with several live rats in a cloth bag. These he had let loose to distract the cat, but the ensuing clatter as the cat scampered after the rats while the panicked rats looked for escape in unfamiliar surroundings had woken the owner more surely than if Jirokichi had simply strangled the cat. He had almost been caught – with the owner’s full money purse on his person. Only the fact that the merchant had blamed the racket on the rats had saved him. It was this incident that had later given Jirokichi the nickname the Rat.

He climbed to the top of a small shed that gave access to the roof of the main house, then made his way up it, walking softly on the thick thatch until he reached the small opening near the top that let the smoke from cooking fires escape. Here he stopped and peered down. The fire in the hearth was out, and the place lay in darkness and silence, except for faint sounds of snoring. He made his move.

At this point, things got tricky. Because of the darkness, he now had to work by touch and memory. He pictured the wide cross-beams in his mind and squeezed through the opening, letting his bare feet dangle down until they found the beam. He felt around with his toes and stood up.

Only the fact that Jirokichi was as small and slight as a child of ten permitted such work. A larger man would not have been able to fit through the roof opening and would have been too heavy to traverse the tops of flimsy interior walls.

By now his eyes could make out a few things, and he walked along the wide beam to the opposite side of the house. Jirokichi never suffered from vertigo. He had apprenticed with one of the rope walkers in the market when he was a boy, but given up the profession as too uncertain a year later.

The lower part of the house was open to the roof, and only the eave chambers were enclosed by walls. The center of the house was the common room. Jirokichi reached a place above the merchant’s office via one of the cross-beams. There he sat down and fished a key from the secret pocket Hoshina had sewn into his pant leg.

This was one of several thin gadgets fashioned of hard steel by a clever smith who believed that Jirokichi traded in used furniture and needed to open chests where the owner had lost the key. This particular ‘key’ fit locks like the ones on merchants’ money chests.

He prepared to drop down to the floor when a loud pounding made him freeze in place. He listened.

The sound was too muffled to have come from the front of the house, but it was certainly loud enough to wake the owner.

There it was again. And now he heard other sounds, and a light sprang up in one of the eave rooms. The merchant had woken and was muttering angrily.

Jirokichi briefly considered making his way back to the roof opening, but the light would catch his moving figure, and the merchant might look up and see him. The main support beams were visible from most of the rooms below. Instead of risking capture, he scooted as far as possible into the dark corner where the roof descended and two beams crossed. There he cowered and waited.

The merchant’s heavy steps receded. Somewhere in the back of the house, a wooden bar slid back and a door opened. Jirokichi heard excited male voices and the merchant’s angry growl. Then the door slammed, the bar fell into place, and more steps returned. The merchant was bringing visitors into the common room.

When they appeared, lit eerily by the flickering light of the merchant’s oil lamp, Jirokichi’s heart skipped a beat. He recognized the two scruffy young louts instantly. They were the ones that had maltreated him so brutally. One of them was the ugly bastard with the knife scar on his cheek. The other was the thin one with the hungry look. He had a black eye.

They looked around curiously, but seemed polite and deferential. Their presence here surprised Jirokichi. Wealthy merchants like the one below did not associate with such scum. Besides, he would have expected them to use their knives to rob the older man.

Instead of being suspicious, the merchant merely looked angry. He snapped, ‘Wait here,’ then turned his back on them and padded off towards his office. Jirokichi wondered at that, and he wondered even more that they obeyed meekly.

The merchant now stood directly below him. Jirokichi drew in his arms and legs as the light crept towards his crossed beams. Oblivious of the thief cowering above him, the man pulled out a bunch of keys on a string he wore around his neck and unlocked the money chest.

When he lifted the lid, Jirokichi clamped a hand over his mouth to keep from gasping at the size of the treasure. Gold and silver in loose coins rose in piles, and bundles of bulging bags were stacked beside the piles. Golden ingots filled the sides, and more lay underneath the coins and bags. Jirokichi had never seen so much gold in one place.

He knew from the neighbors that the merchant was lending money at high interest, but even that did not explain such wealth. Even as his mouth watered at the sight, he knew that there was far too much for a small man like himself to carry away.

He considered various desperate methods of raising heavy weights up to the roof and lowering them outside. All proved impracticable. He watched in misery as the merchant counted out some gold coins, then closed and locked the chest.

Jirokichi tried to console himself with the thought that even the amount of gold he could comfortably carry offered a rich reward for his trouble. Soon the merchant would get rid of the youths and go back to bed, leaving Jirokichi to reap the fruits of his labors.

The merchant handed the gold to the scar-faced youth. ‘Here,’ he said, ‘that should take care of the next one. It’s more than you deserve. You’ve been getting careless. Two people dead already. Stay away from mat makers and paper merchants.’

The youth took the gold, but he blustered a little. ‘It wasn’t our fault. We made sure to wake up the guy. Who knew about the old one in the back?’

‘You should’ve known better. And if you’re seen again, you’ll be useless. That’s when you’ll disappear permanently.’

The rat saw the fear in their faces as they slunk off without another word. The merchant followed them out, then closed and barred his back door and returned to his sleeping quarters. The light went out.

Jirokichi stayed in his cramped position for a long time, even after he could hear the merchant snoring again. He thought about what he had heard. The young punks weren’t the only ones who were scared. He eyed the money chest longingly and clutched the key in his sweaty hand. After a while, he started shivering. Not even the immense treasure below could tempt him to steal from this man. If he were caught here tonight, he would be a dead man, and if he were merely suspected of having been here, he would be hunted down. When he finally got up to leave, he still trembled so much that he almost slipped off the beam on his way back to the exit hole.

Outside, on his way down the steep roof, he had to force himself to move carefully, but when he gained solid ground, he sped away as if all the devils of hell were after him.


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