quickly in his blue scribe’s robe and packed his own gown and

the flute into his saddlebag.

The secretary greeted him with reserve and did not mention

their appointment.

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

149

“I hope,” Akitada told him, “that we did not miss each other

last night. I was late returning to the servants’ quarters.”

“No, no,” Shiba said quickly. “Do not concern yourself. I had

urgent business to attend to. This is a rather busy time for me.

Regrettable. Especially since you are to leave today. Perhaps

next time?”

It did not sound very convincing, but Akitada nodded and

went to his desk. Genzo had not arrived yet but left a stack of

last night’s copies.

Akitada had little interest in Genzo’s work, or his own, for

that matter. All of it was just a subterfuge to meet Kumo. If

Kumo had been informed about the prisoner Taketsuna and his

background, he had given no indication of it. But Akitada had

learned enough. Kumo’s leading an uprising seemed less likely

than he had feared. The governor had painted a villainous

image of the high constable, but the man who rescued con-

victs from unbearable working conditions, trained them, and

then treated them with generosity and respect was surely no vil-

lain. In Akitada’s view such goodness could hardly coexist

with a desire for bloody vengeance against the emperor. In fact,

Akitada began to doubt Mutobe, an unpleasant state of mind

comparable to feeling the earth shift during an earthquake.

Kumo seemed to have done his best to ease suffering, while

Mutobe apparently turned a blind eye to the abuse of prisoners

by guards and police alike.

But he was puzzled by the change in Shiba’s manner. Last

night the secretary had been friendly and eager for news of

the capital, yet today his greeting had been cool, distant, and

nervous, as if Akitada had suddenly become an undesirable ac-

quaintance. What had happened? Akitada briefly considered his

meeting with Kumo’s senile grandmother, but what was in that?

Perhaps the change had nothing to do with him, but instead

with the man from Aikawa bringing some bad news. A fire?

150

I . J . P a r k e r

Akitada sighed and looked at Genzo’s copies. They were

better than the first batch, but one or two pages had to be

rewritten, and he settled down to the chore. He was just

bundling up the finished document when Genzo made his

sullen appearance.

“Any more instructions, boss?” he demanded. His tone was

hostile and impudent—or it would have been impudent, had he

not been speaking to a convict.

Akitada sorted through the stack of records, looking for

something to occupy Genzo’s time. He came across an account

of the silver production of a mine called Two Rocks. As he

glanced at some of the figures, he was struck by the modest

yields for what was, according to Yume, one of the best silver

deposits on the island. But then, he knew nothing about silver

mines. Passing the sheaf of papers to Genzo, he asked him to

make copies.

Toward midday, Inspector Osawa arrived, clearly suffering

from the effects of too much wine. He listened with half an ear

to Akitada’s report, glanced at the copies and notes, and said,

“Good. Finish up, will you? We are leaving for the coast as soon

as you can be ready. I’m going to lie down a bit. I don’t feel at all well today.”

Akitada wished him a speedy recovery. There was little more

work to be done. At one point, he sought out the secretary again

to ask a question, but more to gauge the man’s changed manner

than to gain useful answers.

Shiba answered freely until Akitada mentioned the Two

Rocks mine, saying, “I noticed some papers relating to it, and

wondered where it might be located.”

Shiba blinked and fidgeted. “Mine?” he asked. “In the

mountains, I suppose.” Seeing Akitada’s astonishment at this

vague reply, he added, “I know nothing about that part of the

master’s business, but all the mines are in the mountains of

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

151

Greater Sadoshima, that is, the northern half. Our mines must

be there also.”

Well, it was hardly a satisfactory answer, but Akitada knew

from the governor’s map that the closest coast to the mountain-

ous areas was the one facing away from the mainland, a partic-

ularly rocky area not used by regular shipping, but familiar to

local fishermen and pirates. He wondered about the “pack

trains to the coast” mentioned by the supervisor from the

Kumo mine. But perhaps he had said “coast” when he had

meant Sawata Bay and the harbor at Mano where all the silver

was loaded for the trip to the mainland.

The secretary busied himself with paperwork, muttering,

“Forgive me, but there is much work. If there’s nothing

else . . . ?” Akitada gave up.

Osawa eventually reappeared in traveling costume. Under

his direction, Akitada and Genzo carried the documents out to

the waiting horses and packed them in the saddlebags.

Kumo came to bid Osawa farewell. “All ready to leave?” he

boomed cheerfully. Turning to Akitada, he said, “I hope my

people gave you all the assistance you needed?” Mildly aston-

ished by such belated attention, Akitada bowed and praised the

secretarial staff.

“And you have been made quite at home here, I trust?”

Kumo continued, his light eyes boring into Akitada’s.

Was the man hinting at Akitada’s trespassing in his garden?

Meeting the high constable’s sharp eyes, Akitada said, “Yes,

thank you. I have been treated with unusual kindness and

respect. A man in my position learns not to expect such cour-

tesy. And your beautiful garden brought memories of a happier

past. I shall always remember my stay here with pleasure.”

“In that case you must return often,” Kumo said, then

turned to Osawa, putting a friendly hand on his shoulder. “And

where are you off to next, my friend?”

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I . J . P a r k e r

Osawa glowered at his horse. “All the way to Minato on that

miserable animal. At least the weather is dry.” He put his foot in

the stirrup and swung himself up with a grunt.

Kumo stood transfixed. “Minato?” he asked, his voice sud-

denly tense. “Why Minato? I thought you were on an inspec-

tion tour.”

“Governor’s orders. I’m to deliver a letter to Professor

Sakamoto there.”

“I see.” Kumo’s eyes left Osawa’s face and went to Akitada’s

instead, and this time Akitada thought he caught a flicker of

some smoldering, hidden violence which might erupt at any

moment. The shift was so sudden and brief that he doubted

his eyes.

C H A P T E R N I N E

M I NATO

The road to Minato continued through the rich plain between

the two mountain ranges. This was the “inside country,” the

most populated area of the island, where the rice paddies

extended on both sides to the mountains, their green rectangles

swaying and rippling in the breeze like waves in an emerald sea.

Peasants moved about their daily chores among them, bare-

legged and the women often bare-chested, and half-naked chil-

dren stopped their play to watch round-eyed as the riders

passed.

In all their journey that day, they saw only one other horse-

man. The rider stayed far behind, traveling at the same moder-

ate speed. Osawa, who started to feel better as time passed, was

eager to reach Minato before dark, and they made better time

than the day before. Halfway, they took a brief rest at a shrine to water their horses and eat some of the rice dumplings provided