“You’re a soft-hearted woman. What happened?”

“A man, what else?” she said bitterly. “And it wasn’t His Majesty. The young emperor didn’t want her, poor child. She came home in despair to tell them. Her father raged because His Majesty hadn’t bedded her yet. Every time she came for a visit—you know His Majesty’s ladies have to leave the palace when it’s their time of the month—his lordship would talk to her. She cried and cried. It wasn’t her fault.” Hanishi heaved a deep sigh. “I wish my lord hadn’t been so hard on her. Or that her mother had taken her side. My young lady was so unhappy. Well, she went back to the palace and met another man. If you ask me, His Majesty should’ve taken better care of her.”

Tora listened with rapt attention. “You don’t say?” he breathed. “What a love story! I thought men weren’t allowed near His Majesty’s ladies.”

“That’s what you think,” Cook said darkly. “Turns out it’s a very good place to meet men. All those parties every day.” She paused, suddenly nervous. “But don’t you go talking about it. I shouldn’t have mentioned it.” She sat down abruptly on an upturned basket and started weeping softly. “Her father and her brother, they both say terrible things, call her a slut, and worse.”

“Don’t cry,” said Tora, jumping up and putting an arm around her shoulder. “I won’t say a word, but I’m thinking it must be a terrible thing when a father won’t help his child. And she was just a girl.”

Cook wiped her face with a sleeve and nodded. “A terrible thing. He drove her to kill herself, that’s what her father did. And when they told him, did he care? Oh, no! Him and the young lord went hunting as if nothing had happened.”

To make sure he had his facts straight, Tora said, “I suppose it took a long time for the news of her death to get to Sagami.”

“We were here then. Had been for months. The master was waiting for the good news from the palace.” She said bitterly, “Some good news!”

At that moment, the kitchen door flew open and in stalked a burly soldier in half armor, his boots shining with polish, and his long sword swinging from his sash. He stopped when he saw Tora. “What the devil’s this? What’s he doing here? He didn’t come in through the front gate.”

The little round Hanishi jumped about two feet and started gabbling about deliveries and fire wood.

Tora interrupted her. “I’m Tora. I’ve come on a visit from her family back east,” he told the soldier, making him a bow. “Hanishi’s people asked me stop by and see how she’s doing.” He stared back at the man.

For a moment, nobody said anything. The soldier’s gaze faltered. He turned to the cook and asked, “Is that true?”

Tora frowned. “Are you calling me a liar?”

Hanishi cried, “No trouble, please, Tora and Tomogoro-san. The master wouldn’t like it. Yes, it’s true. He comes from my home.”

The armed man relented. He gave Tora a sour look. “I see she’s been feeding you,” he grumbled. “That’s more than she’s doing for us. Where’s our grub, woman?”

It was a good thing that Lord Masaie’s retainer had restrained his appetite until now. It would have been even better, had he waited until after Tora’s departure. “I see you don’t show women much respect here,” he remarked. “Or maybe it’s only the custom in Sagami. Hanishi needs help. You should show some appreciation for a fine cook like her. I found her trying to carry heavy baskets and barrels, and she had no wood for the fire to cook your rice. Does your master know she’s not getting any help from you?”

The man reddened. “We have out duties, and carrying wood isn’t one of them.”

“Well, just remember, without a fire or supplies, there isn’t going to be any food.”

They glowered at each other for a moment, then the warrior said to the cook, “I’ll mention it to my sergeant.”

“Thanks, Tomogoro-san. The rice’ll be ready in an hour. Do you want some stew now?”

He nodded. “Just a bowl. I’ll tell the others their food is coming later.”

As she filled his bowl, Tora said, “Well, Hanishi, I must be going. It’s a long journey back. I’ll give them your messages and tell them not to worry. And I hope they’ll be treating you as well as you deserve.”

He gave the soldier a meaningful glance. The man took his stew and said nothing.

Hanishi walked him to the back gate. “Thank you, Tora,” she said. “That was smart thinking. He can be a nasty one. And thank you for your help.”

“Think nothing of it. Thanks for that delicious stew. I’d like to check back to make sure all’s well with you. I didn’t like the way he treated you.”

Her eyes moistened. “Better not. They might want to know how come you didn’t go back home.” She grinned, then reached up and patted his cheek before closing the gate behind him.

Tora smiled, too. He had got what he came for.

Good News and Bad News

After his chores, Genba set out to give Ohiro the good news that his master had promised his help. His heart overflowed with gratitude as he walked through the warm dusk. Had Akitada been in mortal danger at that moment, Genba would have thrown himself in the way of the fatal spear, arrow, or sword. He thought himself blessed by such goodness when he was worthless himself. Or if not worthless, then not clever and brave like Tora, and not nearly as useful as Saburo with his secretarial skills. He, Genba, could not keep the master’s accounts or wield the brush with skill. As for Saburo’s stranger talents, he felt nervous just thinking about them. He had almost been relieved when Saburo had met someone better than himself.

But then, that attack also meant the loss of the contracts. Genba had sworn to himself he would pay his master back for buying out Ohiro.

In spite of such drawbacks, Genba reached Ohiro’s tenement with a spring in his step.

He had heard the music and laughter from some distance away and wondered at it. When he turned the corner, he saw a crowd in festive clothes, singing and dancing among paper lanterns as if this were a fair at one of the great temples celebrating a holiday. The colored lanterns competed with the fading rosy light in the sky, and men and women wore costumes almost as colorful as the lanterns. There was much laughter and perhaps happy drunkenness.

It could not be a holiday. No, he would not have missed that. So why have a fair here among the tenements of the poor?

Vaguely uneasy, he sped up a little. Most of the lanterns and people were in front of Ohiro’s place. Someone was playing a flute, and a woman’s voice was raised in song. Raucous laughter and shouts accompanied it.

A dirty ditty. Sung by one of the girls from the Sasaya.

Genba was a good deal more straight-laced than Tora and frowned at the blunt language. Still, this was where many of the prostitutes kept rooms, and such things must be expected. But it shamed him again to bring a woman from this life into his master’s house. He had seen the expression of distaste on Akitada’s face, heard the hesitation before he had assured Genba that Ohiro would be welcome.

Ohiro was not like these women who flaunted themselves in gaudy costumes before men they would not accept as customers because they were too poor but who often kept them as lovers when they were not working.

That was really all he was: Ohiro’s man.

Shame washed over him. He pushed through the merrymakers without looking at them and made for Ohiro’s door. He had almost reached it when he heard a woman shout his name. He did not turn, but she caught him just as he laid his hand on the latch.

Shokichi.

Red-faced with drink and smiling broadly.

“Genba, have you heard? The most wonderful thing has happened. Ohiro was dancing with happiness. And so was I. Look!” Shokichi wheeled about, tattered silk gown and sleeves all aflutter and her hands waving in the air.