Joto, obeying his religious vows, was served fruit juice and vegetarian dishes.

Akitada ate and drank sparingly. He watched and waited for wine and food to warm the blood of the others, then he entered the general conversation with a courteous question to Yukinari about his recent transfer to Kazusa.

“A good province and I am learning my way about, Excellency,” said Yukinari. “But I am sure we are all very anxious to hear what’s been happening in the capital.”

Akitada responded with news about promotions, re-assignments, contests, and marriages, adding the recent gossip about the disappearance of one of the imperial ladies for good measure.

Motosuke looked uncomfortable and said, “Of course, compared to the magnificence of the capital, Kisarazu is only a humble place, but perhaps our guest may not feel completely cheated when he visits the Temple of Fourfold Wisdom. I think it rivals even the great Pure Water Temple in the capital.”

“So I have heard,” Akitada said, turning to Joto. “And it is quite new. No doubt due to your brilliant leadership, Abbot?”

Joto raised a graceful hand. “Not at all. The temple was founded under our august Emperor Shomu as the guardian temple of the province, but it fell on evil times. Few subsequent emperors have been as devout as that holy man. Only recently, with the kind support of Governor Fujiwara here, has it been my privilege to revitalize the faith.”

Motosuke looked pleased and said, “Oh, my dear Joto, you are far too modest. Why, the crowds that come to your readings and sermons made the building of the great hall a necessity. And now that you are attracting so many young acolytes who wish to study under you, the monastery buildings will soon become inadequate also. You have made the temple a great attraction for pilgrims from near and far.”

Joto smiled.

Akitada noted the relationship between Joto and Motosuke and decided to look into the source of the funds for the temple expansion. “How many monks live in the monastery now?” he asked Joto.

The remarkable hooded eyes fixed themselves on him. “The number is about two hundred. Your Excellency takes an interest in our faith?”

“I am astonished at your great success such a distance from court,” Akitada said truthfully “And I hear that many of the monks are young, surely a comment on your persuasiveness as a teacher. Tell me, are you a follower of the Tendai or Shingon philosophy?”

A fleeting irritation passed across Joto’s handsome features. “There is too much dissension in the world,” he said severely. “Though the way to the Buddha is only a single way, yet all paths lead to him. I follow no way and yet I follow all ways.”

A reverent silence followed that pronouncement. Akitada considered it. Clever, he decided. If the man had rejected Shingon with its emphasis on aesthetics, he would have offended the imperial court. Yet Tendai was a far more spiritual practice.

“I shall give myself the pleasure of visiting the temple in the very near future,” he announced. “In fact, far from thinking Kisarazu a dull town, Governor, I find it very lively. The market is large and busy, and there were many people about. Surely all these visitors create security problems and increase crime?”

With a sharp glance in Ikeda’s direction, Yukinari said quickly, “The garrison stands ready to keep the peace and protect the people and local government even if—”

“I wonder what happened to that fellow who used to run the garrison,” Lord Tachibana broke in suddenly.

There was an embarrassed silence.

“I thought,” Akitada remarked blandly to Yukinari, “you told me the man committed suicide because he had lost the tax convoys.”

Yukinari flushed and glanced at Motosuke. “That is correct, Excellency,” he murmured.

Prefect Ikeda, on Akitada’s right, suddenly leaned closer and said quite loudly, “The memory’s gone, I’m afraid. Oh, don’t worry. He can’t hear me. Age, you know.” Seeing Akitada’s astonishment, he nodded and smirked. “Sometimes a man loses his life force.”

Akitada drew back in disgust, but Ikeda, flushed with wine, was not at all discouraged. Seizing Akitada’s arm in a familiar manner and breathing heavily into his ear, he whispered audibly, “In this case it’s a female. Tachibana has a young wife. Very young and very beautiful.” Ikeda licked his lips, winked, and touched his nose. “She was too much for him. He’s practically senile now. What a waste.”

Akitada detached himself from Ikeda’s grip. He strongly disapproved of the man’s words and the manner in which they had been delivered, but he welcomed the information. If Tachibana was indeed senile, he was no longer a suspect. He suppressed his disgust and searched for a reprimand that would not make it impossible to work with Ikeda in the future.

Yukinari, on the prefect’s other side, saved him the trouble. “I am certain, Ikeda,” he ground through clenched teeth, “that His Excellency recognized that offensive comment as typical of a certain type of low-bred individual.”

Ikeda turned white with fury. Joto cleared his throat and looked at them with reproachful eyes.

Motosuke rose and clapped his hands. “Allow me to make an announcement.” Everyone looked at him in surprise. Smiling at them, he said, “You are all aware that I am scheduled to depart from my post and return to the capital before the New Year.” There were polite murmurs of regret. “That is why we have the pleasure of Lord Sugawara’s company. He is to certify that I am leaving no debts behind. Ha ha.” His laughter sounded a little forced, and all eyes turned warily toward Akitada. “But,” cried Motosuke, “there is another, happier reason for my return to court.” The attention swiveled back to Motosuke. “I have been,” he said, trying to look modest, “immensely honored by His August Majesty. My only daughter, who spent the past four years in these rustic surroundings, will enter the imperial household. As soon as we reach the capital, I shall have the great joy of presenting her to His Majesty.”

There was a sudden crash. Yukinari stood up, staring dazedly at his toppled tray table and scattered dishes. Wine and sauces were seeping into the grass matting.

Servants appeared quickly to clean up, and everyone made an effort to gloss over the incident. The captain sat back down, looking stunned, while a beaming Motosuke received the awed congratulations of his guests.

In the midst of presenting his polite wishes to his host, Akitada was gripped by icy despair. He had lost his chance—no, he had never really had one—to prove his enemies wrong, to make a name for himself against the odds. Motosuke’s daughter was entering the imperial household because she had been selected as a new consort, perhaps to become empress someday. No law could touch her father now, regardless of his offense, and Akitada’s report must clear the emperor’s future father-in-law of all suspicion. He sat stonily through a lengthy prayer by Joto for the happiness of Motosuke’s daughter.