“Water!” barked the doctor.

Genba ran.

Meanwhile the doctor probed for wounds. “Knife thrusts,” he muttered. “Two. Maybe more.”

Genba returned with Hanae, who carried a basin of warm water. It was she who cleaned away the blood.

The doctor shook his head and tsked. “Only two, but deep. Not much bleeding now, but that may mean it’s all but over.”

Hanae cried out in protest, and Genba sucked in his breath.

Tora seized the doctor by the neck of his robe and snarled, “You bastard! You’ve done nothing for him yet. Don’t you dare say it’s over. He’s still breathing. Get busy, and if you don’t do a good job, I’ll personally help you to hell.” He released him with a push.

The doctor muttered something, but he scurried to his bamboo case. There he unearthed ointments, plasters, bandages, and various herbal medicines. He busied himself with applying a yellow paste to the wounds, then covering them with large plasters. While Tora and Genba held Akitada, he bandaged his torso then indicated that they could lay him down again.

After cleaning away more blood, Hanae covered their master with a quilt. Then they all looked at the patient.

“He’s breathing,” said Tora.

“Barely,” said the doctor spitefully.

“I wish he’d open his eyes. Is he in pain, do you think?” Hanae asked.

The doctor growled, “No. He’s already where you cannot feel pain anymore.” Tora clenched his fists and hissed. The doctor scooted away a few steps. “I’ve served noble families for many years,” he said angrily. “It grieves me to find Lord Sugawara like this, but threatening me isn’t going to save his life.”

Tora looked away. “Just do the best you can,” he muttered.

“I’m done for the time being. Those packets contain some herbs. If he lives long enough to get the fever, boil them in some water and try to make him swallow the liquid. You can send for me, if there’s a change.”

And with that, he turned to leave.

“Your fee, doctor,” cried Hanae.

“You can send it later.” And he was gone.

They knelt beside their master without speaking. Genba brushed silent tears from his face. After a while, Hanae said, “The children! I should bring them.”

They all knew what she meant. Their father was dying, and they had a right to be by his side.

Tora nodded. “The children first, then the others.”

*

The journey into the darkness was very painful. Akitada thought for a while that he had arrived in one of the many hells, the one inhabited by the devils with the long knives. He knew he must run to escape them, but his feet were heavy … so heavy … and he needed sleep. He had not slept for so long and now his eyes would no longer stay open. And so one of the devils caught him and he felt the pain of his knife plunging deep into his back and fell.

Much later he thought about being in hell. There would be no Tamako there. Nor his small son Yori. He hoped they knew he had tried to reach them, had tried very hard and had failed.

He had failed them in so many ways.

Tora’s face appeared before him. He looked angry, as well he might. He had let them all down. Even at the very end. There had been something. Something urgent and important he had had to do. But it was gone. Failed again. He had given them grief instead of joy, poverty instead of comfort, abandonment instead of protection. No wonder they were angry. No wonder they wept. The weeping troubled him a good deal.

What of his other children? They too would be abandoned, now that he was taking this dark road to a place from which none returned. He had abandoned them just as his own father had abandoned him. No, that wasn’t right. It was he who had abandoned his father. He had chosen Seimei instead. And now he was choosing to be with Seimei in death. We die to repeat our mistakes and sins.

On grasping this truth, the darkness seized him again.

*

The children and the others had left again, and only Tora and Genba remained. They sat beside their master, one on each side, much as if he were a corpse already. Neither man had prayed, though the women had.

Genba thought of his master’s children, sighed, and shook his head. They had not cried, but their eyes had been filled with pain and fear. It was all happening to them again, first their mother and little brother, and now their father.

Tora watched him and asked, “What?”

Genba started. Seeing Tora’s eyes on him, he said, “The children. I cannot bear it. What must they be feeling?” And his tears came again until he covered his face in shame.

Tora said fiercely, “They are strong like their father. He’ll live. I know he will.”

Genba sniffed and nodded. “I’m sorry. Shokichi’s pregnant. It makes a man protective,” he said apologetically.

Tora sighed. “You’d better go and tell Saburo. He has a right to know.”

Genba nodded and got to his feet.

But at the jail, they turned him away. Orders from the Superintendent, they said.

Genba went to Kobe’s office, arriving there the moment Kobe himself got in. He saw Genba, frowned, then paused to give him a second look.

“Anything wrong?” he asked brusquely.

Genba was past caring about proper greetings and bows. His voice choking, he said, “The master’s dying. I need to tell Saburo, but the guards turned me away.”

Kobe stared. “What?”

Genba sighed and started over, “There’s not much time, I think. Tora sent me. The doctor said—” He stopped for another gulp of air and said, “Tora found the master before daylight this morning. Someone had stabbed him in the back. Twice. He must’ve been lying in that alley all night. The doctor says there’s no hope. He may die any moment.”

Kobe had turned white. He said to one of his officers, “Go to the jail and bring Saburo. Be quick about it.”

Genba’s knees started shaking. “Thank you, sir,” he muttered.

“Sit down and tell me what you know.”

So Genba did, and then Saburo came, hovering between disbelief and shock. And Genba told the story again as they walked back, Kobe in the middle and Genba and Saburo on either side. Three of Kobe’s police officers followed behind. By the time they reached the Sugawara compound, Kobe knew all about Kanemoto, Phoenix, the secret house near the Rokujo Palace, and their somewhat tenuous connection to the trial of the blind shampoo girl. He made his officers wait on the veranda of the main house and went in to see Akitada.

Tora rose when they entered. The room was dim again. A sharp smell of herbs and a faint whiff of blood hung in the air. Kobe nodded to Tora and bent to look at Akitada.

Tora said, “He’s not moved, sir, but he’s still breathing.”

Kobe nodded. “The doctor has given up hope?”

Tora looked away. “What do doctors know?”

Saburo went to kneel beside the bedding and touched his master’s hand. “He feels cold,” he said. “It might be from losing so much blood.”

Nobody said it, but they all thought, “Or because he’s dying.”

Tora bethought himself and brought a cushion for Kobe. The superintendent shook his head. “No,” he said. “I have delayed too long. This wouldn’t have happened if I had trusted him and taken action. Now there is nothing I can do for him except finish his work. Send for me if there is … any change.”

And with this he nodded and left.

Saburo wiped his face and looked up at Tora. “Does that mean I’m free to stay?”

“I don’t know. I think so.” Tora sat back down.

Saburo bowed his head. “I have done this,” he said. “I have brought nothing but evil fortune to all of you. And now I’ve killed him, too.”

Tora said fiercely, “Shut up! He won’t die.”

Genba sighed. “I suppose I’d better see what needs to be done. What do you think Kobe is up to?”

Tora eyed him bitterly. “He’ll find Kanemoto and Phoenix and arrest them. Then he’ll stop the trial. After that he’ll get the bastard who knifed the master. It will all get done, but I’d give anything if it had gotten done without this.”