‘About those louts that attacked you,’ Tora said. ‘You don’t look like a wealthy man.’

Jirokichi gave him a quick glance, then looked down at himself and brushed some dirt from his pants and jacket. ‘Whath wrong with my clothes? I’m a working man, and I was clean before those bastards got hold o’ me. Leth forget about it.’

Tora’s eyebrows rose in disbelief. ‘After what they did to you?’

‘No’ so loud.’ Jirokichi looked around, then leaned closer. ‘See, where I come from, we don’t make trouble for people like us. We help each other.’

Tora snorted. ‘After what those cruel bastards did to you?’

Jirokichi frowned. ‘They’ll be taken care of.’

Tora changed the subject. ‘I take it you only steal from the rich to give to the poor?’

Jirokichi ignored the sarcasm. He poured more wine, drank, and felt his tooth again. ‘Rich people steal our rice and our labor. I’m taking back what belongs to us,’ he explained.

He seemed serious, but Tora did not believe him. ‘What if someone turns you in to the police?’

Jirokichi raised his shoulders. ‘Life is full of surprises,’ he said.

‘Then you live dangerously. Is it worth it?’

‘Yes. I’m a great man to my people. I’m an artist. I’m no different from a poet or a painter or an archer. I practice my art and polish my style. I watch and I listen. I pick my target. I plan my approach. I execute it perfectly. My body and my mind are trained like a master swordsman’s.’

The little man was full of himself. The only thing he had practiced was telling tall tales. And he had not wanted to talk about the youths that attacked him. There was little point in it, but Tora asked anyway, ‘Since you do all that watching and listening, do you know anything about that last fire in the Sixth Ward?’

Jirokichi stared at him. ‘What?’

‘Come on. You must know about the fires. I’m looking for some young hoodlums just like the ones that grabbed you today. They robbed me of a large amount of gold and silver not far from there. If you’re such a famous thief, surely you know others like you.’

Jirokichi glanced over his shoulder towards the shifty-eyed guest, then leaned closer. ‘I know nothing about any fires.’ He glanced at passers-by. ‘See that boy?’ he said, pointing.

Tora looked. A youngster dressed in blue and white figured silk walked past with the grace of a dancer. ‘He’s nothing like that devil’s spawn you were with or the gang that jumped me. He’s some rich kid or an actor,’ Tora said dismissively. ‘Or someone’s toy boy.’

Jirokichi shook his head. ‘Wrong. He’s also one of the lost boys. The city’s full of them. They have to live.’

‘You think he’s a thief?’ Tora narrowed his eyes as he looked after the youngster. ‘I don’t believe it. The guys I want were street fighters, not pampered boys.’

Jirokichi’s eyes widened. ‘You saw the boys near the fire?’

‘Not well,’ Tora admitted. ‘But they were together, and they may have a female working with them. She knocked me down and got most of my money.’

Jirokichi raised his brows. ‘A female knocked you down?’

Tora flushed. ‘I thought it was a woman. I was drunk and didn’t see her coming.’

‘Ah.’ Jirokichi grinned and nodded. ‘Careless. How much did they get?’

Tora told him in an aggrieved tone. ‘It was to pay off a little piece of land for my wife and son. I’ll never have that sort of luck again.’

Inside the wine shop, the monk was gathering his staff and leaving. The old men clicked their go pieces as before. ‘Plenty of gold around,’ Jirokichi muttered, frowning.

Tora grasped the small man’s wrist. ‘Come on, Jirokichi, you owe me.’

Jirokichi jerked his arm away. He looked both frightened and angry. ‘Leave it alone,’ he snapped. ‘You’ll get your gold back.’ He got up and hobbled away.

Tora left some coins on the bench and hurried after Jirokichi, but the little man had disappeared.

AKITADA PLAYS WITH FIRE

Akitada woke up to a furious anger.

For years he had struggled against hostilities from members in the administration. Though his family name linked him to the spectacular rise and unjust fall of his ancestor Michizane and he still bore the resentment and fear that that name aroused, he had never become disloyal to the emperor or to the ruling Fujiwara family. At no time had he refused to make sacrifices in his service – risking his life and limb and the lives of his family and people. And, invariably, his loyalty had been rewarded by new demands or punishments. And now someone was trying to pin a murder on him.

Enough was enough.

Notwithstanding Kobe’s gentle hint to stay away from the Kiyowara case, he could not wait for others to clear his name.

What Kobe had implied – without saying it in so many words – was that any effort Akitada made to clear himself of the suspicion would make things worse. If the chancellor himself was behind the demotion, Akitada might clear his name, but he would lose everything by interfering.

Perhaps he would have to take his family and seek modest employment in a provincial administration. His friend Kosehira would surely let him serve as his secretary or as a district prefect in his province.

He knew that no official had ever managed to return from such disciplinary dismissal to a career in the capital. He was taking an enormous risk, but if he did nothing, he would also be lost. Kobe would try to help him, but Akitada did not think he would succeed.

He got up and dressed – soberly, to fit his mood. Then he went to tell Tamako of his decision and its likely outcome.

It was early, but he found her awake. She looked drawn and tired – and still much too flushed. He almost changed his mind, but she had as much to lose as he, and they were both concerned for the unborn child’s future.

‘Forgive me for troubling you,’ he said humbly. ‘I’m afraid I’ve made up my mind to take a step that may affect us all. As I seem to be under suspicion for Kiyowara’s murder, I will try to clear my name, but this, as Kobe tells me, may cost me my position and rank. We would have to give up this house and move to one of the provinces.’

He saw her tense and fold her arms protectively around her belly. ‘Forever?’ she asked with a little gasp.

He regretted his abruptness, but it was too late now. ‘It may not happen, but if it does… I can barely maintain this house at the best of times, and we shall need the funds I can raise on the sale to make a new life.’

‘It is your ancestral home, Akitada,’ she protested, her voice breaking. ‘It has been in your family since Heian-kyo was founded. Oh, Akitada!’

He flushed with shame. ‘I know you’re disappointed in me – not perhaps on your account, but on behalf of our unborn son. I can only say how very sorry I am. I have tried, Tamako, but I cannot fight against the determination of those in power. The best I can do is to protect my family by removing them from danger and poverty.’ He put his face in his hands. ‘I’ve failed to protect you once before and lost my son. Even if I lose my position, I shall at least not fail to protect you again.’

She said nothing.

He lowered his hands. When their eyes met, he saw tears in hers.

‘Thank you,’ she said, ‘but I wonder if you understood my concern. It isn’t for myself or our unborn children that I protest, but for you. It isn’t like you to give up so easily. This house is a symbol of Sugawara persistence. Don’t sell it. We shall find a way to keep it, even if we must go wherever fate takes us. Only, can it wait until this child is born?’

Of course. I never… You did not think we were to leave immediately?’

She chuckled weakly. ‘You came with such a fierce look on your face that I thought you wanted me to start packing at once.’

Relief washed over him. ‘But the rest… You would not mind my losing both position and rank? I doubt I shall ever be able to regain them after this.’