“I’ll try, though most of it is just gossip. I’m determined to stay here until Atsuhira’s been cleared.”

They finished their excellent meal with the fragrant rice and more wine. Kosehira looked almost happy again, and the smile and deep bow of his servant told Akitada he had achieved the same standing as a beneficent deity in Kosehira’s household.

The Wisdom of Women

Saburo returned to a barrage of questions from Tora and Genba.

“Where had he been?”

“Didn’t he know the master would ask where he was?”

“What was wrong with him?”

“Had he been drinking?”

“Why else was he staggering about like this and looking sick?”

Saburo made it to the well coping and sat. The distance from the beggars’ temple had seemed endless. He had started feeling faint soon after leaving Bashan’s care. His physical weakness was made worse by the knowledge that he had failed most miserably and been bested by someone younger, stronger, and smarter. The last especially hurt. He was an old man who did not even have the wisdom of experience to count on.

So he sat, and told Tora and Genba what had happened.

“You had the contracts, and this thief stole them?” asked Genba, his eyes round with shock that his salvation had been so close only to be snatched away again.

“Beggars’ guild?” asked Tora. “That’s going to be very useful. You’ve made friends, I hope.”

Saburo looked at them. They didn’t care about him. They cared only about their own concerns. Why should he have expected anything else? “I’ll lie down for a while,” he said getting to his feet. “Wake me before the master returns.”

They protested, wanting more information, but he ignored them and crept into his room, where he slipped into the bedding he had left the night before.

When Akitada walked into his study a few hours later, Tora and Genba were waiting for him. They looked worried.

“What’s happened?” asked Akitada, suddenly fearful that the misfortunes of the mighty had already reached his own modest household.

“Saburo was attacked last night.”

Tora was always the spokesman. Genba stood beside him, nodding and twisting his big hands.

“How and where?”

“In the Willow Quarter. As to the how—.” Tora exchanged a glance with Genba. “Umm … it seems he was looking into the murder of the brothel owner, sir.”

Akitada frowned.

Genba offered, “It’s all my fault, sir. I’m very sorry. I should never have brought our troubles home. And now Saburo’s not getting up. He must be badly hurt.”

Tora said quickly, “No, Genba. We’ve been looking in on him all afternoon. He’s just sleeping. Genba exaggerates, sir.”

Akitada took off his good robe and changed into the comfortable garment he wore at home. Then he went to sit down and told his retainers to do the same. “Am I to understand Saburo went out investigating a murder in the middle of the night?”

They both nodded. Genba said, “I didn’t hear him leave, sir. Saburo’s very quiet when he goes on his jaunts.”

The frustrations of the day made Akitada irritable. “Jaunts? He’s done this before?”

Again they nodded, looking a little uneasy.

“You come and go on your own business whenever it pleases you? Day or night?”

Genba shrank, but Tora defended Saburo. “He works here all day and goes out at night because that’s his own time, sir. And in this case, he went to help Genba. It isn’t his fault this fellow objected to him poking around the brothel. I think Saburo ran into the killer.”

Akitada glared. “If Saburo takes his outings during the time when he should be asleep, he won’t be much use to me the following day.” This was unfair, as Akitada well knew, because Saburo had always been diligent about his chores. “However, I’d better have a look at him. He may need a physician.”

There was no need, because they heard slow footsteps approaching, and the door opened. Saburo, dressed in his usual neat blue robe and black sash, his hair arranged in a slightly off-centered topknot, came in. He stopped when he saw Tora and Genba with his master.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t realize you’d come back already, sir.”

Tora said quickly, “We told the master that you were having a look at the brothel when you were attacked.”

Akitada saw that Saburo’s face looked gray and he held on to the door jamb. “Come in and sit down,” he said, wondering how bad the injury was. “Tora and Genba told me about your adventure. How do you feel?”

Saburo sat down and looked at the others. “I’m quite well, sir. The rest has done me a lot of good. I’m ready to get to work.”

Akitada thought he detected a note of nervousness and wondered. Saburo had always struck him as fearless, or at least unconcerned about danger or death. He said, “There’s no work that cannot wait until tomorrow or whenever you are fully recovered. You received a head injury?”

“It was nothing, sir. A little knock on the head. I’ve had worse.”

That went without saying and proved nothing. Akitada decided to check and got up. When his fingers probed his scalp, Saburo shivered, perhaps from pain or simply from the shock of having his master feel around in his hair.

“Hmm. A bad bruise and a scab. Why did you tie up your hair? You made it bleed. Tora, go call my wife and ask her to bring some paste or plaster. We should cut off his hair.”

Saburo looked horrified. “Not your lady, sir,” he gasped. “I don’t want her to bother with me. In fact, you shouldn’t have bothered either. It’s embarrassing.” His voice trailed off as he saw Akitada’s bloodied fingers.

“Nonsense. Go, Tora.”

Tamako arrived with a jar of ointment, heard part of the story, and peered at Saburo’s head. “His hair should be shaved off. And he needs to rest, not work.”

Saburo protested weakly, tears of shame on his scarred cheeks.

Akitada relented. “Just some ointment, I think. Is it the stuff you used on Yasuko’s skinned knee?”

“Yes,” she said. “We can try it. But you cannot wear your hair in a knot, Saburo. And if you don’t feel better tomorrow, we will call a physician.”

“I’m very sorry,” Saburo muttered.

After Tamako left, Tora returned to the subject of the beggars. “About those beggars, Saburo. I’ve wanted to get to know them for some years now, but they’re not likely to let someone like me into the guild. We should go back there together. Beggars are very useful people.”

Saburo frowned. “I’ve thought of that, but it’ll be best if I go back by myself first. They’re very shy about anyone connected with the law.”

“No doubt they have reason,” Akitada said drily.

“No doubt, sir.” Saburo turned to Genba, who had been sitting by silently and unhappily. “Sorry I wasn’t more useful, Genba. I was hoping to help.”

“Thank you, Saburo. I meant to tell you how grateful Ohiro and I are. I feel bad you got attacked on our account. If there’s ever anything I can do for you, you just have to ask.”

“We may find another way,” Saburo said, but he did not sound very hopeful.

Saburo went back to bed, and Genba returned to his chores, leaving Akitada and Tora together. Akitada told Tora about his visit to Masaie’s home.

“I’d like you to get some information about him from his servants tomorrow,” he added. “Don’t tell them who you are. Find out if Masaie was in the capital when his daughter was killed and what sort of family life they had. And if there are other children besides the son and daughter.”

Tora looked pleased when he left, and Akitada joined his wife and children for their evening meal. His worries about Kosehira and about Genba’s problem receded as they always did when he was with the children. Tamako would have questioned him more closely about his activities, but in the presence of the little ones, they both put their daily problems aside.