“Very true, my lady, but I’m afraid good advice is as painful to the ears as good medicine is bitter to the tongue.”

They both chuckled. What did they care? Akitada gnashed his teeth but submitted to the nasty brew.

After that, he had a period of peace. Kumada prepared several packets of herbs for additional doses of the nasty brew, collected his pay, and departed.

“Try to rest,” Tamako said and sat down beside him. He nodded and dozed. “I wish you’d let me get those wet clothes off you.,” she said after a while.

“Maybe later.”

He must have slept a little, because when he opened his eyes again, a monk was leaning over him, his eyes half closed and his fingers moving lightly across his chest. Had he died? The fingers next felt his head, brushing across the bandage, and returned to his neck. From there, they crept toward his shoulder.

“Don’t,” Akitada growled.

The monk stopped and smiled. “Ah, you’re awake. Now pay attention. I will pull on your arm until it finds its way home.”

Akitada’s eyes popped open. “NO!”

The monk smiled more widely. “You may, of course, wish to continue in your present discomfort. In that case, I will wish you patience and depart.”

Akitada glared back. He realized that he was not dealing with a monk but with the blind masseur. “What do you know about such injuries?” he demanded.

“I would call them fortunate accidents. They are common and easily treated, except in cases where the victims have an unreasonable dislike of even a small moment’s pain.”

Akitada hated the man. How dare he speak to him this way? How dare he suggest that he could take no pain? How dare he insult him in this manner? He looked past the shaven head to Tamako, who stood by expectantly and with a smile on her face. Feeling resentful, his eyes returned to the smooth face of the monk. “A moment’s pain? A fortunate accident? Is nothing broken or torn?”

“I don’t think there is any damage. And yes, it will hurt quite a lot for a moment, but after that you’ll feel much better, and soon you’ll not remember the pain at all.”

“Must you pull my arm?”

“Yes.”

Akitada closed his eyes. “Do it then,” he said ungraciously and prepared himself to bear the procedure without making a sound. He’d show them.

The masseur felt around the joint one more time, then reached for Akitada’s wrist and gave his arm a single powerful jerk and a twist.

White-hot agony sliced through Akitada’s shoulder. The effort not to cry out caused him to become absolutely rigid from the soles of his feet to his head. He dimly heard his bones come together with an odd, slippery sound and felt an immediate relief.

“There,” said the masseur. “That should do it. Keep your arm still for a day. I’m told your doctor left some medicine for pain. I’ll only rub on a little ointment. It won’t hurt.”

Akitada opened his eyes slowly. The pain was almost gone, and the relief was overwhelming. The ointment felt pleasantly hot on his skin. He said, “Thank you. Please forgive me for doubting your skill.”

A small smile twitched the masseur’s lips. “It was nothing. As I said, a fortunate accident. I’ll take my leave. Not all my patients are as easy to cure.”

Feeling the implied reprimand, Akitada flushed. “I believe payment is in order,” he said to establish a more proper relationship.

“A piece of silver will do.”

He was not cheap. Akitada eyed the slender figure with the shaven head. The man belonged to the lower classes, perhaps even to the untouchables, but his speech was educated. Though his manner had hardly been proper, he had done his job well and must be paid. “Tamako, please get the money.”

As Tamako paid the masseur, putting the money in his hand and adding her thanks, Tora came back in. He eyed the masseur with interest. “You must be the one who treated a friend of mine. He was attacked and got a bad head wound. You took care of him at the beggars’ temple. His name’s Saburo.”

The masseur cocked his head in Tora’s direction. “It may be so. A friend of yours, you say?”

Akitada said, “Saburo worked for me. If you have treated him, it’s only right that I should pay his debt also.”

The masseur hesitated. “Thank you. But it was nothing. I treat the poor without taking pay.”

“Then I’m sure you can use the money,” Tamako said. “It was a kindness, and we’re grateful.” Tamako pressed another piece of silver into Bashan’s hand.

Bashan bowed, then felt around for his staff. Tora handed it to him, and led him out.

“What an odd character,” muttered Akitada. “I think I’ll change now.” Assisted by Tamako, he struggled out of his wet, torn, and filthy clothes and put on dry ones. His left arm was still fairly useless and somewhat painful, but he found he could tuck it inside his robe where it was adequately supported. He was beginning to feel almost human again and decided to sit down behind his desk. Tamako watched him, smiling to see him so greatly improved.

Suddenly he felt a rush of happiness and gratitude. He had almost died on the mountain. Certainly his attacker had intended him to die. Tears came to his eyes. He was ashamed that he had behaved like a spoiled child.

“I’ve been foolish and careless, and I’ve given you a very hard time,” he told his wife. “Please forgive me.”

Tamako laughed softly. “You were in great pain and protested. It’s what people do when they’re hurt. Oh, Akitada, I’m so happy you’re back.”

The door opened and Tora was back. “Good man, that Bashan. I don’t think I could’ve done as well as you, sir. All that rough handling to pull you up the mountainside, and then the awful shaking on the litter.”

“You saved my life, Tora. You might have fallen yourself.” Akitada paused, frowning. “I thought I heard you talking to me, but I must have been dreaming.”

“It was me. Telling you not to move. You were lying on this very narrow ledge.”

“Good heaven.” Akitada grimaced. In his carelessness, he had risked not only his own life, but also those of Tora and the brave constables. And he had gained little or nothing from his trip. He wondered if he should tell them about the attack and decided against it. No sense in frightening Tamako now that he was safe.

He said, “I’m afraid I haven’t made any progress. There were a few scuffed footprints in one of the rooms, and a thread or two of blue silk and some drops of blood. I’m convinced she was struck with that bo and then dropped off the promontory.”

Tora shuddered. “Who would do such a thing? What if she was still alive when he pushed her over?”

Tamako had turned white. “Oh, how terrible!”

“Yes,” Akitada said heavily. “The killer was very cruel.”

Tamako shook her head, and he extended his good hand to her.

Tora cleared his throat. “Well, I’ve some chores to do,” he muttered and left quickly.

Akitada pulled Tamako down beside him, put his good arm around her, and kissed her hungrily. He was incredibly happy to be alive.

But the door flew open again, and Akiko rushed in. “There you are, Brother. Thank heaven you’re all right.” She took in the scene. “You can do that later. I think I’ve solved your case. Just wait till you hear.”

The Novice

Akitada released his wife. He was touched. His sister had never shown much fondness for him in the past. “Thank you, Akiko. I’m quite well on the whole. Just a little bruised from the fall.”

“There, you see, Tamako? He’s taken a tumble, that’s all.”

Tamako shook her head. “He might have died,” she said. “Or been more badly injured. He fell quite far. They had to transport him on a litter.”