Kobe let his eyes roam over the crowd. He had not liked the judge’s quick capitulation. Yes, there were several officials present from two or three ministries. Hirokane had arranged for witnesses who would be certain to testify against him.

Biting his lip, he gestured to his men to take the chains off the defendant. He went himself to help her to her feet and reassure her.

“I came,” he said when he saw that she was trembling with fear. No wonder. She was blind and could not have known what was happening all around her.

She lifted her head toward him and gave him a tremulous smile. “Yes,” he said simply.

“Do you have a home?”

She nodded.

“Two of my men will take you there and find someone to stay with you. Don’t be afraid. It’s all over.”

She inclined her head. “I’m not afraid now that you are here.” She stood there quietly, waiting. Kobe saw again how lovely she was, and how young, and got the strangest feeling that she had just told him that she loved him.

Embarrassed by this thought, he looked up. The officials who had witnessed his release of the prisoner were leaving the hall. There was nothing left for him to do except to await his punishment. He hoped at least that his lie about having arrested the murderer would not remain a lie much longer and that Sachi would remain free.

Selecting two of his men, he sent them with her, telling them to make sure she was safe and had a friend with her. The crowd still hung about, watching avidly. Sachi walked away, holding the sleeve of one of the policemen, and people pressed closer, congratulating her, calling her blessed, and reaching out to touch her for luck. No defendant had ever been saved like this from such a dreadful fate.

30

The Quiet Sadness of Autumn Rain

He strove for patience. Dying was harder than anything he had ever done before. The long periods of pain and even longer stretches of feeling the fires of hell consuming him must be borne if he was to accomplish this final task. As soon as he prevailed, they would be together again.

Life, it is said, is but a bridge of dreams linking two eternal worlds. He had nearly crossed his bridge of dreams and would soon be with Tamako.

And with Yori and Seimei. What joy to see old Seimei again!

And so he was patient.

Sometimes he seemed to move along the dark path expeditiously, but then the voices returned. He tried to ignore them, but the devils with their knives started their work again, and pain racked him. At those times, he plunged into an abyss of terrors. The darkness was impenetrable, and he floundered about, calling Tamako’s name. But no answer came.

How much farther to the other side? When would he cross into that other land, the land of the blessed, the islands where Tamako dwelled?

In the end, he failed. The voices became louder and more insistent until they broke through the darkness and he woke to the dream again.

“Drink, sir!”

“Sir, can you hear me?

“Help me roll him over.”

That one brought back the pain, and he moaned.

“Sir, it’s the doctor. He’s taking a look at your wounds. It will be over in a moment.”

It was not over in a moment. The fools, he thought, they won’t let a man die in peace.

“How are you feeling, my friend?”

Someone was sobbing as he asked this stupid question that deserved no answer.

In the end, they left him alone, and he drifted off again.

*

The next time he woke to the sound of rain. It was a soothing sound, and he felt cool after the hellish fires he had passed through. He lay quite still, his eyes closed, and listened to the splashing of the water falling from the eaves to the boards of the veranda. Mingling with that louder music, was a distant soft watery gurgling, rippling, thrumming, and rushing. Steady rain pattered on the surface of the small pond, a million drips of water drummed on wet leaves and fell down to the earth, and the trees sighed with the pleasure of all this moisture.

Dreams are seductive, and so is life!

And he was thirsty.

After a moment’s hesitation, he opened his eyes. He was in his own room in bed. The light was dim, but that was because it was raining outside and all but one shutter was closed against the weather. The open shutter was in the far corner. Through the narrow aperture he could see a silvery light, the light of a cloudy day reflected in a million raindrops and watery surfaces. It shimmered and was beautiful.

But he was very thirsty, and reluctantly his eyes let go of the shimmering light to search for something to drink. There was nothing, and he was alone. Again after due consideration, he decided to call out. His voice was a mere croak, so weak it would not have alerted a dozing companion. He tried again, and some of the hoarseness improved but he was still too weak to make himself heard. Deciding he needed more rest, he went back to sleep.

*

He became aware that he was no longer alone because he could hear breathing and an occasional rustling of fabric. He tried to guess who might be with him but failed and opened his eyes again. A lamp was lit behind a screen and cast a faint golden light. Nighttime.

The other person was a black silhouette, a male, his head sunk forward until his chin rested on his chest, and his breathing was slow and deep. He was asleep.

Memory stirred. Poor Tora, worn out with watching over him, had fallen asleep. He did not have the heart to wake him by asking for water.

But lying still was impossible. He was on his side and his shoulder hurt. He let himself roll on his back and almost cried out at the sudden pain. As it was, he could not avoid a soft moan.

Tora’s head jerked up, he looked around the room, then peered at him. They made eye contact, and Tora cried out, “Are you awake, sir?” He sounded astonished and put his hand to Akitada’s brow, then he jumped up to move the screen. The light made Akitada blink.

He croaked a little peevishly, “There’s something on my back and it hurts.” His voice was still weak and slurred a little. Also, his mouth was incredibly dry. “Is there any water?”

Tora burst into a shout of laughter and began to dance about like some lunatic. Akitada waited it out. Presumably playing nursemaid had been hard on the fellow.

Tora eventually stopped and came to kneel beside him again. He asked anxiously, “How are you, sir?”

“Thirsty!”

“Thirsty!” Tora grinned again and clapped his hands. “Thirsty!” he cried. “He wakes up as if nothing happened and says he’s thirsty! What do you think of that?”

“I think you should get me some water,” Akitada growled.

“Oh! Oh, sorry, sir. Right away.” Tora turned aside for a pitcher and poured, then held a cup to his lips, supporting his head with one hand.

Akitada drank, said, “More!” and drank that also. Then he sighed and let his head fall back. “What’s the matter with me?”

“You’ve been stabbed, sir. Don’t you remember?”

“Stabbed?”

“In an alley behind the house belonging to Kanemoto’s woman.”

“Phoenix.” Memory returned in a rush. He struggled to rise and Tora had to restrain him.

“Don’t move, sir. You’ll open the wounds.”

Akitada groaned, partially from the pain on his back and partially because he had been so close, yet failed. “The trial?” he asked. “They found her guilty?” And then Tora’s presence brought another question and a glimmer of hope, “You were released? And Saburo, too? What happened?”

Tora kept nodding and grinning. “They let me out since they didn’t have anything to hold me on. When Genba told me you had left the day before and not come back, I went looking for you and found you.”

Akitada was astonished. “How did you know where to go? I’d only just traced the infernal woman myself.” And the triumph of having done so had made him shockingly careless.