Akitada, who by now had a very good notion of what he was being accused of, snapped, ‘I have no idea what you are talking about. I found this child a few days ago. He was wet, hungry, cold, and apparently lost. I bought him food and dry clothing, and when his alleged parents finally remembered him, I returned him to them with a gift of money to take care of him. Today, I found him tied by his neck like a dog behind their house. He was bruised and cut from a recent beating. My money had been spent on new clothes for Mrs Mimura and heaven knows what else. I was outraged and took the child away with me. That’s all.’

‘Hmm. The parents maintain you stole the boy from their village and spent the night with him in the Inn of Happy Returns.’

‘I found the boy on the highway.’

‘But you spent the night with him?’

‘What else should I have done? Abandoned him in the street in the rain?’

‘But then you went back to get him again, and again you took him to the inn. Why did you come back for the boy? Warden Takechi says you intended to buy him. For what purpose?’

Realizing belatedly the unfortunate name of the inn, Akitada flushed. ‘I lost my son this past spring,’ he said stiffly. ‘It pained me to see another boy mistreated.’

‘Hmm.’ The judge regarded Akitada fixedly. Silence fell. Nakano clearly did not believe that a man of Akitada’s rank would bother to adopt the ragged, deaf-mute child of a fisherman.

‘You are charging the Mimuras?’ Nakano began again. ‘With what?’

‘Torturing the child. Stealing him. Taking my money under false pretenses.’

Nakano considered. ‘The last one might work. Dubious, though. I think you’d better drop the charges and hope the Mimuras are willing to forget your behavior in return for some payment for their pain and suffering.’

Akitada fumed. ‘Absolutely not! What about the child’s pain and suffering? And what will become of him?’

Nakano sighed. ‘This cannot be very good for your reputation, sir.’

‘Let me worry about my reputation.’

They glared at each other. Nakano looked away first and said, ‘You are senior secretary in the Ministry of Justice?’

‘Yes.’

‘It would be quite wrong to hold you here, under the circumstances. On the other hand, we must make certain that you will attend your trial. Feelings in the community run high in this case. Shall we announce that you will deposit a certain sum in gold as surety for your return?’

Relief washed over Akitada. ‘How much?’

Nakano pursed his lips and then mentioned an amount that was surprisingly close to what Akitada had in his saddlebag.

Akitada agreed.

Nakano rose and bowed. ‘Delighted to make your acquaintance, My Lord,’ he said. ‘I trust we shall meet again when the time comes to clear up this matter to everyone’s satisfaction.’

Akitada got up, too. ‘What about the boy? I am anxious to have custody of him.’ Seeing Nakano’s lips tighten, he added quickly, ‘To take him home to my wife.’

‘Impossible.’

Akitada clenched his fists. For all he knew, he had made the boy’s fate worse. ‘Can he remain with the people who are caring for him now?’

‘Why should he not be returned to his parents?’

‘Because they beat him. If you return the child to the Mimuras, I’m convinced he will die before the cases can be heard.’

‘Surely you exaggerate.’

‘No. And I will not leave Otsu until the child is safe. In fact, if I hear that he is being returned to the Mimuras, I shall be back. With reinforcements. And I shall use my influence in the capital to investigate how children are treated in Otsu and its surroundings and what measures have been taken by the authorities to protect them. I gather from what you said that this district has a history of crimes against children.’

Nakano opened his mouth and closed it again. Drawing himself up, he said stiffly, ‘I invite such an investigation, sir. In my view, children belong with their parents. But in this case, I will permit a temporary – mind you, temporary – arrangement until we know where we stand. I trust you will not try to see him in the meantime?’

Akitada bowed. ‘Thank you. That is all I ask.’

Akitada returned to the capital, poorer by the gold he had carried to Otsu, and without the child.

SEVEN

The House on the Uji River

Tora did not return to Otsu. His fear for Hanae and his unborn child outweighed everything else. Akitada, who was armed, was well able to defend himself, while Hanae was helpless.

Too ashamed to tell either Seimei or Tamako, he left on foot. He had lost the right to use Akitada’s property. He stopped at their little house, hoping against hope that Hanae had returned. She had not, and he set out for Uji.

Without money to rent a post horse, he fell into a steady pace walking south on the Nara highway. Night fell quickly, and most travelers on the road were headed for their homes in the capital. He scrutinized each sedan chair he met. Once or twice he got in trouble for lifting a curtain to look inside.

The road was lined with pines, snaked away towards black mountains.

Taking the extraordinary and painful step of leaving his master had been much like cutting off his arm or leg, and his stomach still twisted at it. That bond had been made for life. He had walked away from a debt he could never repay and made a lie of the solemn oath of loyalty. By all the rules he lived by, he was dishonored.

He no longer blamed Akitada. As his master, he had a right to expect unquestioning loyalty and obedience.

Tired and discouraged, he was tempted to lie down under a tree to sleep for a few hours, but his worries about Hanae had increased a hundred-fold. She should have been home a long time ago. He thought again of Sadanori’s reputation and of Hanae’s beauty and popularity. Sending a sedan chair was an unlikely courtesy towards a prospective servant, and Mrs Hamada’s opinion that no wife would tolerate such a beautiful maid or nurse in her household gnawed at him.

At Uji, the mountains loomed ominously above him, and the river rushed through the narrows with a sound like thunder. Tura felt a kind of panic, a fear of real disaster. Oh, Hanae, he thought, why did you run away from me into such danger?

He had hoped to find an inn open to ask for directions, but all the houses were dark. He passed a shrine and walked across the bridge. The sound of the river was deafening, and the rushing waters made the massive timbers shiver beneath his feet.

Tora followed the highway along the river until the mountains fell back and a vast plain opened before him. Here he saw a great complex of buildings. When he reached the gate, a dog inside set up a loud barking. Someone shouted at the animal. Encouraged, Tora struck the bell by the gate with its wooden clapper.

There was more shouting, a yelp, and the dog fell quiet. Then a small window in the gatehouse opened a crack and a disembodied male voice asked impatiently, ‘Yes? What is it?’

‘Is this the villa of Lord Sadanori?’

‘Are you mad? This palace belongs to the regent. I thought you were a messenger from the capital. Go away.’

The window was about to shut, but Tora cried, ‘Wait! Sorry to trouble you so late, but I have to find Lord Sadanori’s villa. I have an urgent message for His Lordship. From his lady. A matter of life and death. Can you at least point me in the right direction?’

The voice grumbled, ‘They shouldn’t send messengers who don’t know the way.’ Then added, ‘Go back across the river. It’s upriver from the shrine. There’s a willow by the gate. You can’t miss it.’ And the window slammed shut.

Tora trotted back the way he had come, followed by more barking and another yelp from the dog. He thought of Trouble, left for Genba to look after. Would Akitada, in his anger, drive the beast out to join the other starving creatures that roamed the streets? In his tired and exhausted state, Tora was unable to achieve the smallest shred of his former optimism. Wifeless and masterless, he would join the mangy dogs scavenging for food in the market, kicked, cursed, and beaten by the more fortunate beings in the world. The image of Hanae intervened – a desperate Hanae fighting off the groping hands and wet lips of a repulsive male in an expensive silk robe.