felt that you might need a restorative after your long journey.”

The short stranger turned down the corners of his mouth.

“He must be demented. Do you drink this stuff?”

Akitada assured him that both he and his family had found

Seimei’s teas most helpful in the past.

“Then you must be demented also.” He turned to the thin

man. “I think we are wasting our time here.”

Akitada was beginning to hope so, too, but the tall man

shook his head. “No. I think not.” His voice was dry and he

barely moved his thin lips when he spoke. “And keep in mind

that we have no choice.” The other man subsided with a frown.

Somehow this was not encouraging. Akitada offered, “Shall

I send for some wine instead?”

“By all means,” said the thin man, with a smile that was

almost jovial. He looked at Akitada with an interest which re-

minded him uncomfortably of a cat eyeing a fat sparrow.

Akitada clapped his hands for Seimei. “Some wine please,

Seimei.”

Seimei removed the full teacups with a little sniff but merci-

fully did not argue the point. When they were alone again, Aki-

tada searched for polite words to ask who his visitors were.

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

11

“I am afraid,” he began, “that I have not had the pleasure of

meeting . . . Your Excellencies in the capital.” He paused.

His visitors exchanged glances.

The short man said, “It is not necessary for you to know

who we are.”

Stranger and stranger. Akitada decided that this could not

have anything to do with his inadequate administration of the

chaotic affairs in Echigo. Neither, sadly, did it sound as though

they were bringing his release. He cleared his throat nervously.

“May I ask, then, what brings you here?”

The short man said, “In due time. First we have some

questions ourselves. And we have yet to be offered adequate

refreshments.”

Akitada flushed. He was becoming annoyed with their rude-

ness and wished they would get to the point and leave.

They sat in silence until Seimei appeared with a large tray

holding three small pitchers of wine and three cups. They were

unmatched, badly chipped, and of the cheapest clayware. Bow-

ing to each gentleman in turn, Seimei poured wine into a cup,

presented it, and placed the small pitcher before him.

Akitada asked if there were any plum pickles left.

Shaking his head, Seimei offered, “I could slice some fresh

radish from my garden.”

The short man, who had made a face when he tasted

his wine, muttered, “Fresh radish? What does the fool take

us for?”

Akitada bit his lip. Considering their probable rank, their

rudeness to him was one thing, but he was fond of Seimei, who

had been like a father to him and served him still with unfailing

love and devotion. On the other hand, these men were poten-

tially powerful and he could not afford to offend them. He said,

“I regret extremely the poor hospitality. Had we known of your

arrival, we might have prepared more suitable refreshments,

12

I . J . P a r k e r

though this poor province has little with which to please some-

one like yourselves.”

The short man grunted, but the thin one raised his brows,

and Akitada realized that he had not sounded at all deferential.

He fell silent again and waited.

“We have had worse wine on our journey here, Mototsune,”

said the thin man thoughtfully.

The short man smirked. “Once, To.”

Akitada stared at the thin man. He was not certain he had

heard right. To was the title of the emperor’s two first secretaries, the highest position in the sovereign’s private office. Each held the fourth rank. How could a man of such illustrious status be sitting in his office in the ramshackle tribunal of a remote province like Echigo?

“Are you acquainted with the Second Prince?” the thin man

asked him.

The question was unexpected and flustered Akitada even

more, but he managed to nod. The Second Prince was really the

eldest son of the late emperor and had once been crown prince

and emperor-designate. But when he had been in his twenties,

his father had suddenly decided to make another son by a sec-

ondary empress his heir, and Okisada had become the Second

Prince. Angered, he started an intrigue against his much younger

half-brother, and the emperor had punished him by sending

him to Kyushu. Okisada had apologized and been allowed to re-

turn to the capital to live there in powerless comfort and luxury

for the next ten years. Then his father, worried about his health,

had abdicated in favor of Okisada’s half-brother. One of the

court nobles, a Lord Miyoshi, discovered that Okisada was in-

volved in a plot to kill his half-brother and seize the throne. This time his punishment had been permanent exile to Sadoshima,

where he had remained for the past decade.

“Well? Have you lost your voice?” the thin man demanded.

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

13

“I beg your pardon, Excellency. I was waiting for you to

explain further. I know something of Prince Okisada and once,

when I was a boy, I saw him in passing. He is at present living in

exile on Sadoshima.”

The thin man shook his head. “Incorrect. The prince is

dead. He has been murdered.”

Akitada sat up. This was extraordinary news. A murder of

an imperial prince on the island of exiles? What could be going

on there? Sadoshima was in the Sea of Japan, about twenty

miles north of the coast of Echigo. Exile to Sadoshima was the

most severe form of punishment short of execution. Only very

violent or politically dangerous criminals were sent there. But

what did this have to do with him?

The thin man smiled. “Ah,” he said. “I see we finally have

your attention. You have the reputation of being clever at solv-

ing murders. We want you to go to Sado Island and find out

what happened.”

Akitada’s eyes widened, but he shook his head. “I am sorry,

Excellency, but I have no authority to leave my post. Neither do

I have the power to meddle in the affairs of another province. I

expect Sadoshima’s governor has already begun an investiga-

tion into the crime.”

“Pah! The investigation is tainted. The murderer is Gover-

nor Mutobe’s son.”

“What?” Akitada stared at his mysterious visitor. “Are you

certain, Excellency? Or do you mean that he has only been

accused of the crime?”

The thin man made an impatient gesture. “Accused, arrested,

and up for trial. Apparently the prince was poisoned by some

food the young man provided. The facts are not disputed.”

That was a tricky situation, and Akitada was thoroughly

intrigued, but he said again, “Even so, I regret that I am not able to accede to your request.”

14

I . J . P a r k e r

The short man turned a deeper shade and blustered, “Must

I remind you that you are nothing but a clerk in the ministry of

justice on temporary assignment here?”

Akitada bowed. “That is very true and I regret extremely not

to be able to do as you wish. But my instructions state precisely

that I am to take my orders only from my superior or a repre-

sentative of the emperor.”

They looked at each other. Then the lean gentleman took

some rolled-up documents from his sleeve. As he sorted through

these, Akitada saw the yellow silk ribbons used for imperial doc-

uments and felt his skin crawl. The thin man looked up, saw

Akitada’s expression, and smiled. He unrolled one of the yellow-