“Ah.” Higekuro nodded. “Your master was sent to look into the missing taxes. Don’t look surprised. That mystery is on everyone’s mind. Three times a whole tax convoy disappears— soldiers, bearers, packhorses, bag and baggage. And without a trace, if you can believe official notices.”

Tora took his eyes off Otomi and gaped at him. “How can such a thing be? It must be a lie. Do you believe it?” he asked.

“Hmm.” Higekuro looked thoughtful. “The present administration has been a good one in most respects. People will be sorry to see Lord Fujiwara go. My guess is that someone with the convoy, maybe on instructions from someone else, simply took the goods to the far north. There the bearers and soldiers were paid off and are too afraid of reprisals to come home.”

Tora said, “Those soldiers must be cowards and crooks, in which case the local garrison is to blame. Perhaps the garrison commander is behind it. Yes, that must be it. No wonder rowdy monks run wild in the market.”

Higekuro shook his head. “We have a new commander. He is young but efficient from what I hear. Besides, it’s really the prefectural police who are supposed to keep the peace in the city.” He gave Tora’s shoulder a friendly slap and said, “Well, perhaps you and your master will solve the puzzle for us. Here’s the food.”

The meal was plain but tasty, and the company pleasant, especially Otomi, who made up for her silence with the most speaking glances and tender smiles.

So much so that, when he finally took his leave, Tora promised with great fervor to return soon and often. Otomi blushed and Higekuro smiled.

* * * *

FOUR

THE GOVERNOR’S GUESTS

H

ow dare the man offer me a bribe the minute I arrive?” Akitada was pacing about the room angrily.

Seimei knelt on the mat, looking glum. “Perhaps it was a misunderstanding,” he said without much conviction.

The door opened abruptly. “Here I am,” cried Tora, grinning from ear to ear. When he took in the scene, he came in. “What’s the trouble?”

Seimei glared. “Where have you been? The nerve of walking in here as if nothing happened! Putting one’s trust in you is like relying on the stars on a rainy night.”

Tora wrinkled his forehead in an effort to comprehend that remark.

Akitada stopped his pacing and said, “Seimei is very upset, Tora, and rightly so. Why did you run off without a word?”

“Oh, is that what’s bothering him? Just wait till you hear.” Tora sat down and looked around the room.

Seimei snapped, “Servants do not sit in their master’s presence. Get up instantly and kneel!”

“Oh.” Grinning at Seimei, Tora knelt. “You’ll both be proud of me. I saved a girl from being raped by two monks and picked up some very useful information.” He paused. “Is there anything to eat? Maybe some wine? It’s hard to talk on an empty stomach.”

“No,” snapped Seimei.

Akitada came over and sat down. “Just tell us what happened,” he said.

Tora told his tale plainly. When he was done, he added virtuously, “I slept in the guardhouse and ran over here before my morning rice to make my report. Now, if you don’t mind, I’ll go get a bite in the tribunal kitchen.”

“You call that a report?” scoffed Seimei. “The whole thing is a tall tale! You were chasing females, I think.”

“Never mind, Seimei,” said Akitada. “Tora had some strange encounters and reported them well. Best of all, he has already become friendly with a local family.” He pulled his earlobe and thought. “The Buddhist presence is puzzling. I wonder what it means. These monks seem to be a strange breed.”

Tora grinned at Seimei’s sour face and asked, “Shall I go back to Higekuro’s and ask more questions? Given a bit of time, I may be able to pick up something useful, like who’s made off with the taxes.”

“More likely you’re going to pick up something else in that house,” said Seimei. “A wrestler with two young daughters and no older female in the home? It is a known fact that martial arts schools often maintain links with criminals and prostitutes. You’d do well to beware of that company. A man’s faults are measured by his associates.”

Tora lost his temper and shouted, “What do you know, you stupid old man? You haven’t even met them. They’re better than you. They’re working for their daily rice instead of living off the nobility. You’re no better than a tick on a dog.”

Seimei’s jaw dropped. Akitada, who barely kept a straight face at being compared to a dog, knew that Seimei had somehow touched a raw nerve. He said quickly, “That is unkind, Tora. Apologize. Seimei spoke rashly because he worries about you. Go back to Higekuro if you like, but be careful about what you say until we have a better understanding of what is going on in Kazusa.” He brightened. “But before you leave, let’s have a short bout with the staves. You will want to stay in practice if you are going to impress the warrior maiden.”

♦

During the next days, Tora spent more time in town than at the tribunal, but since he presented himself dutifully every morning for a stick-fighting lesson with Akitada, his master had no complaints.

In respect to the mystery of the taxes, Akitada made little progress and remained as much in the dark as on the day of their arrival. Although the box of gold bars seemed to prove the governor’s culpability, Akitada decided against a confrontation and sent back the gold without comment. What ensued was a period of uneasy cooperation with neither man referring to the attempted bribe while observing punctilious protocol at unavoidable official meetings.

Seimei and Akitada spent every day in the provincial archives checking the accounts covering Motosuke’s term of office. Akitada’s youth might have made him an unlikely inspector, but both his university training and his drudgery in the archives of the Ministry of Justice had thoroughly prepared him to search out, understand, and evaluate every financial transaction, from the collection of the smallest fine to the confiscation of land and property. Seimei wrote a very neat hand and kept notes indefatigably, and Akinobu, the governor’s secretary, proved a pleasant and very intelligent assistant.

But the day arrived when they closed the last box of files and Seimei made his last computation. No questionable documents had appeared and all accounts were in excellent order.

“What do we do now?” asked Seimei.

Akitada bit his lip. “Officially, my work is complete. You draw up the proper release papers, I sign and affix my seal, and Motosuke’s record is clear.”