“Joto?”

“Ahem.” They looked up and saw Akinobu at the door, his face expressionless. Beside him stood the abbot.

Joto came in smoothly. “Did I hear my name?” he asked, adroitly avoiding the difficult rank distinction by bowing to Motosuke and Akitada simultaneously. Without waiting for an invitation, he seated himself and looked at Motosuke’s array of food. “I see I am late for the midday rice,” he said with a smile.

“Merely unexpected,” said Motosuke dryly. He clapped his hands. When Akinobu looked in, he said, “The abbot is hungry. Have them send in some vegetarian dishes and”—he paused and looked at Joto—”fruit juice or tea, Abbot?”

“No food, just tea, Akinobu.” Turning to his host, Joto said, “I apologize for my small joke, Governor. It is too early for our only meal of the day, and besides, I have come on business.” He noticed the scroll paintings. “Are these new? A local artist?” he asked.

“I think you know her,” Akitada said, watching Joto’s face. “She is a young deaf-mute woman who specializes in Buddhist paintings.”

“Ah, Otomi.” Joto squinted again at the scrolls. “Poor girl. We have given her every assistance by allowing her to copy our originals and by introducing her to wealthy visitors.”

There was a scratching at the door, and a servant entered to serve tea. He departed, leaving the large teapot simmering on a brazier.

“You said you came on business?” Motosuke asked the moment the servant had gone, his brusqueness with Joto more noticeable. Akitada wondered if he just wished to be rid of him or whether there was another reason for his lack of courtesy.

Joto seemed not to notice. “I came to extend a humble invitation to you,” he said, bowing to Motosuke. “And to His Excellency also.” He bowed to Akitada. “We hope that you will both be our honored guests for the dedication ceremonies for our new hall. The presence of two representatives of our august emperor will lend special significance to our simple celebration and inspire the local people with due reverence. Dare I hope that you will say a few words?”

Motosuke put down his chopsticks and wiped his mouth with a sheet of soft mulberry paper he withdrew from one of his sleeves. “You may count on me,” he said graciously.

Akitada added his own acceptance, hoping he would be spared the speech.

To their surprise, Joto lingered after giving the particulars. “There is another, less pleasant matter I wished to bring to your attention, Governor,” he said. “It concerns a crime. Blasphemous thieves have become bold enough to rob the Buddha himself.”

Akitada knew what was coming.

“Really?” asked Motosuke, astonished. “I expect word of your treasures is getting out. What did they get away with?”

Joto placed the palms of his hands together and raised them to his lips. “Nothing, thanks be to Amida. Our people kept their eyes open and surprised them in the attempt. The villains fled, but we may not be so fortunate next time.”

“Shocking, if it is so,” said Akitada, shaking his head. “But didn’t you say that nothing was taken? Perhaps your monks simply surprised some curious pilgrims.”

Joto fixed him with a cold stare. “Impossible. We have learned to be careful of those who pretend devotion for evil purposes. Pilgrims are not admitted after dark, and those who spend the night in the monastery are locked into their rooms. Besides, my disciples got a good look at the three culprits as they scrambled over the wall. Their clothing and appearance marked them as professional robbers, the kind that roam our streets and highways with such impunity.”

Akitada raised his brows. “A very surprising thing for highwaymen to do, in my experience. There is another possibility, if I may make such a suggestion. Just as a criminal may hide under a pilgrim’s robe and straw hat, the same man may shave his head and put on the habit of a monk. Is Your Reverence certain that all the monks presently at the temple are, in fact, what they appear to be?”

Joto’s eyes glittered. “I cannot accept your theory,” he said. “It casts doubt on our community and undermines the good we have achieved in this province. Indeed, such rumors have been spread before, but only by our enemies.”

So hostilities had begun. Akitada put on a bland face. “Just a suggestion. It is equally possible that it was a prank by ghost-hunting youngsters. The temple is said to be haunted.”

“I cannot imagine where Your Excellency heard rumors of ghosts. We are trained to exorcise evil spirits, not to raise them.”

“Ah,” said Akitada, “this is very true. But the less enlightened souls among the local people often have a difficult time distinguishing between saints and demons. You must admit that in spiritual as well as worldly affairs things are not always as they appear to be.” He had the intense pleasure of seeing Joto at a loss for words.

Motosuke cleared his throat. “Have you reported the incident to Ikeda?” he asked. “He’s the man to talk to. I regret that I am already busy with travel plans. In fact, Lord Sugawara and I were in the middle of planning our route just now.”

Joto compressed his lips and rose. “In that case I regret my intrusion,” he said, bowing stiffly.

Akitada and Motosuke rose also. “Not at all,” the governor murmured, moving toward the door.

Joto managed to pass close to the scrolls. Before the painting of the storm dragon he seemed to miss a step for a moment, but then he walked rapidly to the door and left.

“Phew,” said Motosuke as they resumed their seats. “I thought the fellow would never leave. What a silly tale. Robbers in the temple. Now, what did you come to tell me?”

“That I was one of the robbers.”

Motosuke’s jaw dropped.

Akitada told him about their nighttime excursion and what they had found. Motosuke looked stunned, his eyes becoming rounder and rounder, and his initial amusement gradually giving way to horror.

“Holy heaven!” he cried when Akitada was done. “Do you mean to say that Joto has buried some of the monks alive? But why?”

“I suspect they refused to be converted to his teachings,” Akitada said dryly. “Does the name Gennin mean anything to you?”

“Of course. Gennin was abbot before Joto. He is supposed to have retired because of ill health. Are you saying he is down there?”

“I am afraid so. And Gennin is not alone. We heard voices chanting. How soon can we move in with constables and set them free?”

Motosuke shook his head. “I don’t see how... not with constables in any case. With that cache of naginata we need an army.” He twisted his hands in frustration.

“The man is a threat to the country’s security.” Akitada gestured to Otomi’s painting of the storm dragon. “That scroll is what made me suspicious of Joto and his temple in the first place. All the soldiers on that ship are armed with naginata, and a monk sits on the raised platform normally reserved for a captain or general.”