healing. Ogata can be trusted. He is absolutely unbribable

because he has neither ambition nor greed.”

“A rare man indeed. I was not complaining but wanted to

thank you.”

The governor relaxed and smiled for the first time. “Appar-

ently Ogata liked you, too. He told me that I had to find you

a place here because you might not survive the hardships

of roadwork or mining. When I pretended lack of interest,

he offered to make you his assistant because he was getting

too old for his work. He put on quite a good performance, gasp-

ing and pressing a hand to his heart. He even groaned as he

bowed.”

Akitada laughed. “He must think me a weakling. I thought I

was in excellent physical condition.”

“Working on roads or breaking rock is not the same as a

bout with the sword or some hard riding. In any case, I will find

you a place in the archives where I can keep in touch with you.”

“I am not sure that is a good idea. Any close contact between

us will cause suspicion. Also I must be able to travel.”

I s l a n d o f E x i l e s

45

“But I thought . . .” The governor looked upset and said in

an almost pleading tone, “Surely you will want to meet my son?

To get his story? Then I’ll do my best to send you away.”

Akitada weakened. “Well, perhaps. If it is only for a day or

two. Do you have a map of Sadoshima?”

Mutobe rose and delved into one of the lacquered trunks.

He produced a large rolled-up scroll and spread this out on the

desk between them.

The island’s shape resembled a large butterfly flying north-

east, its body flat heartland, the wings mountainous. The gover-

nor pointed to the southwestern opening between the two wings.

“We are here, on Sawata Bay. The murder happened in Minato, a

small town on Lake Kamo near the opposite coast. Okisada was

the guest of honor at the villa of a retired professor there.

Okisada’s own manor is in Tsukahara, not far from the lake. The

central plain northeast of us is full of rice farms. Kumo’s estate is there.” Mutobe pointed to the center of the island. “Most of the

farmed land belongs to the descendants of earlier exiles. I men-

tion this because some families still bear a grudge against the

government. Kumo and Okisada may have formed allies there.”

Akitada nodded. “Tell me about Kumo.”

“He is thirty-eight years old. His great-grandfather was sent

here on trumped-up charges. The family has been cleared, but

since the descendants had become wealthy on Sadoshima, they

stayed here. Kumo now controls one-third of the rice land in

the province. He also owns two silver mines. Kumo’s father

was appointed high constable, either because of his wealth and

influence on the island, or because of the emperor’s guilty con-

science. His son inherited the office.”

“What sort of man is he?”

Mutobe made a face. “Handsome, arrogant, and fiercely

possessive of the island. He regards imperial appointees as a

46

I . J . P a r k e r

form of harassment for the natives and claims that the non-

political prisoners are responsible for all the crime. Hence his

support for Wada.”

Akitada thought about this. “Who really controls Sado?”

Mutobe flinched. “There is no need to be so blunt,” he said

stiffly. “I am fully aware that you were dispatched here because

it is thought that I have failed in my duties.”

“No, that was not the reason,” Akitada said quickly. “You

are in no position to investigate this murder. But let’s not

waste time. I cannot remain in conference with you indefinitely

before someone will take notice.”

Mutobe took a deep breath. “Yes. Sorry. It is just that I have

not slept much since . . . the murder. Briefly, then: nominally, I

have administrative authority over the whole province; how-

ever, the special nature of Sado as a prison for exiles of different types gives extraordinary powers to the kebiishicho, that is Wada, and the high constable, namely, Kumo.”

The provincial kebiishicho was the police department run by an officer from the capital. Their original purpose had been to assist the governors in curbing the power of provincial strongmen.

In Sadoshima, this seemed to have backfired. Evidently Lieutenant

Wada had allied himself with Kumo and ignored Mutobe’s wishes.

Mutobe explained, “Political exiles are generally well-

behaved, but men who are sent here for piracy, robbery, and

other violent crimes are another matter. There is a small garri-

son to protect provincial headquarters, but the soldiers are all

local men and the commandant is an elderly captain for whom

the assignment was tantamount to retirement. And, of course,

Kumo controls the landowners and most of the farmers.”

“Farmers are generally a peaceable lot.”

“Yes, but large landowners like Kumo are not, properly

speaking, farmers. They own most of the land and therefore

the wealth of Sado. Since we must maintain ourselves and the

I s l a n d o f E x i l e s

47

prisoners and exiles with their families, we need their rice, and

the emperor needs their silver.”

“I see. Where is your son?”

Again Mutobe’s hands twisted. “My son is in jail,” he said

bitterly.

Akitada sat up. “In jail? You mean here in the provincial jail?

Is that not somewhat unusual?”

“Yes. Well, there was some thought of putting him in the

stockade, but I managed to avert that. He could have given his

word and been put under house arrest, but they insisted on jail-

ing him like a common criminal.” Mutobe buried his face in his

hands. “Every day I fear for his life. In a jail cell it is so simple to fake a suicide.”

Akitada softened toward the man. No wonder he lived in

fear of upsetting his enemies. “Would it be possible for me to

speak with him without causing comment?”

Mutobe lowered his hands. “Yes. I think I can arrange that.”

“Tell me about the people who were present when the

prince died.”

“Okisada died after a dinner at the home of Professor

Sakamoto. Sakamoto used to teach at the Imperial University in

the capital, but after a visit here he decided to stay and write a

history of Sado Island. He is a well-respected man, but I have

wondered if he was sent to spy on the prince. If he was, Okisada

made it easy. He and his companion, Lord Taira, were regular

visitors at his house. Okisada enjoyed boating and seafood,

both of which are excellent on Lake Kamo.” Mutobe paused.

When he continued, his voice was curiously flat. “On this occa-

sion, there were two other guests, a young monk called Shunsei,

and my son. Originally I had been invited, but I begged off. My

son represented me.” Passing a weary hand over his face, he

sighed. “Forgive me. This is a painful matter for me. Besides

being my son, Toshito has been my official assistant.”

48

I . J . P a r k e r

Akitada was startled. “Your assistant?”

“Sadoshima is not like other provinces. I came here almost

twenty years ago and married a local woman. She died when

Toshito was only a baby. I could have returned to the capital, but a man of my background has no future there. I decided to stay and

raise my son, and the government was happy with the arrange-

ment. Few capable officials are willing to serve on the island of

exiles. When Toshito showed promise, I sent him to the capital

to study law, and after he returned he became so useful to me

that I requested official status for him. My request was granted