There was a smattering of applause, the singer bowed, and a few small coins fell at her feet. Tora, a silly grin on his face, shouted into Akitada’s ear, “Isn’t she wonderful?” and made his way to the front. His master wished himself elsewhere, but the blind woman began another song and Tora stood rooted at her feet with a look of rapture on his face.

Something tugged at the skirt of Akitada’s robe and he looked down. A half-naked beggar crouched there. He extended a filthy hand, keeping a firm hold on Akitada’s silk robe with the other. “A copper from the rich lord?” he whined. “In Buddha’s name? Only a copper?”

“Let go of my robe this instant,” Akitada snapped, seeing the dirty streaks he was leaving on the fabric.

It was against the law for beggars to seize people’s clothes or harass them in any way, but this fellow was not easily intimidated. He grinned, revealing nearly toothless gums, and released Akitada only after rubbing the material between his fingers and saying, “Such thick silk! It must be lovely to have that against your skin. I’d be grateful for a bit of food in my empty belly.”

Frowning, Akitada dug a copper out of his sash and dropped it into the grimy hand with its long, curling yellow fingernails. “You should not grab people,” he said severely. “The constables frown on that. Besides, next time you may get a kick instead of alms.” He looked the man over. The beggar was middle-aged, bony, and utterly filthy, but he did not seem to be crippled. “What’s wrong with you anyway? Why don’t you work?”

The beggar tucked the coin into a small pouch he wore on the rope around his waist. “My health is poor,” he whined. “Can’t afford to buy medicine. It’s a hard life.” He coughed.

Akitada gave a snort and looked around for a good example of a working man. His eye fell on the street singer. “Look at her,” he said. “She’s blind, yet she works for her daily rice.”

The beggar spat. “Her! She’s a whore. You think she’s living on the coppers she gets singing a few songs? She isn’t pretty, but she’s got a mouth and men have cocks. They give her silver and when she’s done singing, she’ll give them her personal attention.”

A well-dressed man standing near them laughed. “When the sun sets, the pleasure women drop their silken sashes. It’s easy to forget a face then.”

The beggar was disgusting, and the stranger was not much better, but Akitada knew that they were probably right. This woman was not attractive enough for anything but the most basic of sexual services, though silver was hardly what she would earn for that.

Tora had climbed the steps and was talking to her, pleading even, and she touched his arm in a familiar manner. Akitada regretted his generous impulse. Trust Tora to set up an assignation while his master waited.

The beggar snickered. “See? She’ll open her mouth and spread her legs for that one all right. You’d think a blind whore wouldn’t care who she does it with, but that bitch thinks she’s somebody special.”

Akitada snapped, “Keep your dirty gossip to yourself!” and stalked to the steps of the tower. “Tora!”

Tora came down. “Sorry, sir, this is not a good time. She can’t leave yet.”

“Tora?” asked the woman on the platform, her hand searching the air. “Where are you?” A street urchin burst into laughter, and someone in the crowd joined in. Akitada saw that the pile of coppers at her feet was pitifully small and felt a twinge of guilt. The blind engaged in certain professions because it was the only work they could do. They did not need eyes to sing a few songs, to wash someone’s hair, or to massage a body. And women needed no eyes to provide sexual services either.

“I’ll tell her you’ll see her later,” Tora said.

“No.”

Too late. Akitada glared after Tora as he ran back up the steps. He told the woman, “We’ll come back and you’ll tell him what you told me, won’t you? He’s very good at solving mysteries.”

Akitada raised his voice. “Tora!”

The woman turned her head toward him and bowed a little from the waist. She said in her warm voice, “You are doing too much honor to this insignificant person, my lord.”

Akitada said brusquely, “We were only passing.” He had no intention of listening to a street singer’s private affairs. Tossing a few coppers at her feet, he snapped, “Come, Tora. It’s getting late.”

Tora looked stricken. He said hurriedly to the woman, “I’ll try to be back in time, but if I’m not, remember what I told you. And lock your door.” Then he joined the fuming Akitada.

Akitada said, “Next time don’t get me involved with your women.”

“I’m sorry, sir. But something’s really wrong. You can see that Tomoe’s blind and can’t help herself.”

Akitada thought of what the beggar had said. A woman need not have eyes to earn a living by selling her body. “She’s a prostitute,” he said coldly. “They learn to handle themselves.”

Tora gasped. “A prostitute? Tomoe? Never! She’s afraid to death that some guy will rape her again.”

“Hmmph, spare me. I have more important matters on my mind than street singers.”

Tora’s fixation on this woman irritated Akitada. To his knowledge, it was the first time in the many years they had been together that Tora had ever shown a romantic interest in a plain woman who was older than he. And in addition to being unattractive, this one was blind and had a bad reputation, regardless of what Tora thought of her. It was not normal, and something must be done before Tora ruined himself. The trouble was that ordering Tora to stop seeing the girl would only produce the opposite result.

Near the wine shop beside the market gate, Akitada remembered that he had promised to treat Tora. Perhaps it would make up for his refusal to speak to Tora’s girlfriend. The waiter scraped and bowed before the tall official and his handsome servant and quickly led them past the customers filling the rooms at street level and up some narrow stairs to a pleasant private room overlooking the bustling market below.

Akitada ordered a flask of their best and two servings of noodles. Tora looked dejected and kept glancing through the thin bamboo railing toward the drum tower where the blind woman was singing another ballad. He muttered, “That girl will not listen, no matter how hard I try to talk sense into her stubborn head.”

They seemed to be well matched in personality at least. Akitada asked, “Why not?” and regretted it immediately. He had no intention of becoming involved in the woman’s alleged problems. In his opinion, she was just using her helplessness to attach Tora more firmly to herself.

Tora plunged into explanations. “It’s like this, sir. Somebody’s been following her home. She can hear his steps. Once she turned around and asked who was there, but he stopped and didn’t answer. It scared her. She says she can smell him. He has a disgusting odor, and she’s sure it’s the same man each time.”

“In her way of life, what does she expect? I imagine it’s a customer who is a bit shy and loses his nerve.”

“There you go again. I told you Tomoe is no whore. People make up bad tales about single women like her. When someone’s as hard up as she is, people should try to help. The trouble is, Tomoe doesn’t complain. She’s too proud to ask for help, even if she’s blind, and very poor, and all alone in the world.” Tora glowered at Akitada. “And she’s only a woman,” he added, as if that made her case even more pathetic.

Akitada’s heart sank. He saw the whole scenario now. This Tomoe, clearly in need of a protector and a meal ticket, had found the perfect fool in the softhearted Tora. Pity for her situation was just about the only thing that would make him forget her lack of physical charms. He controlled his anger at the cunning vixen, and said soothingly, “I am sorry, Tora. No doubt, she has a hard life. But she seems to manage very well and has survived so far.”