“By the great Amida,” Tora said, “that was the finest thing I ever saw. Who would’ve thought you had it in you? Let me congratulate you.” He bent, seized Seimei’s limp figure in a bear hug, and lifted him off the barrel.

“Let me go.” Seimei kicked his shins. “Tie him up quick or he’ll come around.”

Setting him back down, Tora said, “Well, you can tell the master we got the prisoners out.” He walked over to Ikeda and gave him a kick in the ribs. When this produced no results, he bent to put a hand to the other man’s throat. “Looks like you killed the murdering rat,” he said, straightening up. “You used that naginata like a born soldier. How come you never let on that you know about fighting?”

Seimei had blanched. “He’s dead?” His eyes went to the dead man’s face and he felt his stomach rise into his throat. “I must get back,” he mumbled and made for the door. Outside, knees shaking, he vomited.

Tora followed, still grinning, Ikeda’s sword in his hand. “I don’t believe it,” he said. “They hid the swords in those beans, and we missed them.”

Seimei shuddered. “Let’s lock up and go,” he said, dabbing at his mouth with a sleeve.

Tora slammed the door shut. “You’d better go first,” he said, suddenly grave. “I’ll give the fellows a hand with those poor wretches.”

Seimei looked across the yard and saw five or six of Yukinari’s soldiers carrying or supporting several filthy, ragged creatures who looked more like walking skeletons than living human beings. “Oh, how pitiful,” he cried, his own encounter with death momentarily forgotten. “Yes, go help them.”

He walked back unsteadily, sick at the thought of having killed a man.

♦

Akitada gathered his robe and rose. The winter air felt cold on his perspiring face. On the abbot’s stand, Joto was speaking to an agitated monk. The monk looked like the brute with the deformed ear who had swaggered across the market with his tough-looking companions on their first day here. Joto looked across at Akitada, and the other man’s glance, in equal parts triumph and mockery, felt like a physical attack.

A movement near the gate meant that Yukinari’s soldiers prepared to block all the exits. Below him the governor’s guard drew closer to their platform. It was time. Akitada must go forward with the plan or lose his only chance.

One of the guardsmen marched up with the imperial banner and stood directly below him. Joto was watching the soldiers now, clearly puzzled by their behavior. The crowd began to whisper and hum, and Akitada was in an agony of indecision.

Then Seimei emerged from among the spectators. The old man looked up and nodded. Still Akitada held his breath. After a moment, Yukinari rose behind him and left the viewing stand. It had begun.

Gradually silence fell over the courtyard. Akitada pulled from his sleeve the imperial decree and raised it above his head so that everyone could see the golden seals and purple cords. Below a drum began its rhythmic beat.

“Prepare to hear the august words!” thundered the banner bearer.

The people in the courtyard fell to their knees and bowed to the ground.

Akitada read the imperial instructions, which gave him the power to investigate and prosecute, in a reasonably steady voice. Then he rolled up the scroll and said, “You may rise. The investigation I was charged with is complete. The villains who raided three tax shipments and brutally murdered those who guarded them are known.”

A ripple of excitement passed through the crowd.

Akitada looked across to the other platform and faltered. Kukai was there, but Joto had disappeared. Suppressing this new worry, he said, “The guilty are hidden in this temple.” After outlining the case against Joto and his supporters, he paused.

They had listened in silent shock, but now panic spread through the crowd. Some of the monks tried to leave and were restrained by soldiers. Minor scuffles broke out.

“Silence!” the banner man thundered. It had little effect.

Motosuke came to stand beside Akitada, his face tense and serious. And then, finally, Akitada saw Yukinari and next to him Tora. Yukinari raised an arm, and a double line of soldiers marched forward. The crowd fell back, suddenly quiet when they saw the sad, pitifully small group of released monks. Two of Yukinari’s men brought up the rear carrying the abbot on a stretcher. More soldiers followed them.

The imprisoned monks were covered with filth and sores and staggered from weakness, shading their eyes against the sun. When they reached Akitada’s stand and the soldiers set down the stretcher with the semiconscious abbot, the crowd had become still.

“There you see how Joto treated the temple’s holy men,” Akitada told them. “As His August Majesty’s representative and with your support and that of your governor, I shall see to it that justice returns to the people of this province and to this temple. Joto, his deputy Kukai, and all their accomplices are under arrest.”

A soft moan went through the crowd. Many had lost relatives with the tax convoys.

Suddenly a shout came from the other platform. Kukai stood there, his arms raised. “Don’t trust the enemies of Buddha. They have come to destroy the true faith and cast you back into poverty. This is a plot to get rid of our holy abbot.” He swung around and pointed an accusing finger at Akitada and Motosuke. “There are your criminals! There is the man who has kept your hard-earned taxes to fill his own chests and buy his daughter a place as the emperor’s concubine. There is the official sent from the capital to hide the crimes of the nobles under the mantle of official sanction. He even uses a sick and senile monk against us. Are you going to permit this evil thing to happen, or are you going to defend your faith?”

The crowd wavered. Somewhere a woman screamed. The soldiers sprang into action, and the sea of people began to roil like boiling water. Aghast, Akitada attempted to raise his voice again, but it failed him. Motosuke shouted, “In the name of the emperor, clear the courtyard!” The banner bearer below repeated, “Clear the courtyard!” Motosuke bellowed, “Return to your homes to mourn the deaths of your sons and fathers, your brothers and husbands, who were foully massacred by Joto and his followers, and leave the authorities to bring justice to this province!”

For a moment the outcome hung in the balance, then a woman’s voice began to wail softly. Others joined her. The crowd broke part. People on the periphery headed for the gate. Those who had pressed forward fell back. Soldiers dispersed groups and rounded up monks.

Tucking the imperial decree back into his sleeve, Akitada turned and sat down, his hands and knees shaking. Motosuke watched a moment longer, then joined him. They were both silent. Yukinari was in the crowd, directing his men. Provincial guardsmen escorted women and children through the gate. As the courtyard cleared, the soldiers began to herd the monks into one corner. Yukinari and his men were placing Kukai and Joto’s staff under arrest. There was still no sign of Joto.