The doctor said in a low but firm voice, “This man is not able to speak or stand, Mrs. Sato, let alone travel. He must remain where he is. Believe me, it won’t be long. I’ll leave some medicine and give you a note certifying that he does not have smallpox or any other infectious disease.”

The beauty flushed and cried, “Tell me, since you are so high and mighty about the matter, who will pay for his lodging and nursing? He’s nothing but a vagabond. He has no money. I’ve looked. And who will pay for all your treatments, pray? Surely you don’t expect me to come up with the money?”

The doctor said coldly, “I do not expect anything but common courtesy from you, madam.”

She tossed her head and went back into her room. The doctor returned to the kitchen with Kiyo and Tora. There he sat down and opened his case. Taking out writing materials and rubbing his ink stone with a few drops of water supplied by Kiyo, he dashed off a note. Then he poured several powders into a paper, twisted it, and said, “Make an infusion of this with boiling water and try to get half a cupful down him every two hours. And keep him warm! A brazier of coals day and night.” He closed his case and fished around in his sleeve. “Here’s some money for the coals. Send for me if I’m needed. And give the note to your mistress!”

Tora followed the doctor out into the courtyard. “Sir?” he called, holding out some coins. “I’d like to pay for the poor fellow’s treatment.”

The doctor stopped and peered up at him from under grizzled brows. “Ah. It’s you. I didn’t recognize you before.” He took the money “Very kind of you. How is your master feeling? Still troubled by those cramps?”

Tora’s jaw sagged.

“Are you incognito then, my dear fellow? Well, there’s no one about just now. I wondered because his Excellency had all the symptoms of acute intestinal distress at Takata. You are one of his lieutenants, aren’t you? I’ve seen you about and, if I’m not much mistaken, that was you under all those animal skins that night?”

Tora grinned weakly. “Your eyes are sharper than mine, sir. You’re right, and my master still suffers a little from the same complaint.”

“Say no more.” Oyoshi set down his box and rummaged in it. “Here you are. My own recipe! Powdered oyster shell and ground bark of the cherry tree, mixed with the dried leaves of chamomile and some powdered rhubarb root, along with a bit of honey to hold it all together. Have him dissolve each pill in a little hot wine and take it with every meal. Can you remember that?”

Tora nodded and tucked the small package away. “What do I owe you for this?”

“Let your master settle with me if the medicine works.”

Tora thanked him, then said, “You seem to know these people. Did you see the innkeeper after he died?”

Dr. Oyoshi nodded and smiled. “Ah, I thought that was why you were here. Is your master looking into the matter then?”

“Uh ...”

“Never mind. I treated old Sato when he was ill. Chronic chest pains. Wasn’t getting any better, but should’ve lasted at least another year. Imagine my surprise, when I found him with his throat slit! The maid, Kiyo, sent for me. The lady of the house was away—visiting her family, I’m told. What is it that you want to know?”

“Anything you can tell me about the death.”

“I see. Groping in the dark. Well, I don’t think I can help you. He died during the evening or night and did not do it himself. When I saw him he was stone cold and stiff. The maid threw a fit. Nothing unusual in that. The constables eventually showed up and asked a few foolish questions. That, too, was as usual.”

“If the three travelers hadn’t stayed here, who would you think would’ve done such a thing? His widow’s young and handsome, and he was an old geezer. There could’ve been all sorts of mischief.”

The doctor raised his grizzled eyebrows. “You didn’t like the beautiful Mrs. Sato? Too bossy? Been listening to gossip? Well, apart from the fact that she was not here and could not have done it herself, I’ve never heard anything against her. I expect the widow’s only problem is too much yang.”

“Yang? Who’s he?” Tora asked suspiciously.

The doctor smiled and patted Tora’s arm. “Well, there is yin, the yielding female principle, andyang, the aggressive male force. All of us have a bit of the opposite force in us, which is a good thing, for a female without a little yang can’t manage her husband’s home. Mrs. Sato simply has more yang than most. Mr. Sato had the opposite failing. Unfortunately, such an imbalance in a woman seems to make other women hostile toward her. Much like hens in the farmyard, they all gang up on her. As they say, a good deed won’t even pass the gate, but slander travels a thousand leagues.”

Tora’s forehead creased as he pondered that. “I see, and I also see that she probably led her husband by the nose. Even with all that yang stuff, she’s through and through female. And I know about that.”

The doctor laughed. “Maybe so, maybe so. Farewell, my friend.”

Tora returned to the kitchen where the maid was preparing the medicine. She greeted him with a big smile. “You’re back! Give me a moment to tend to the sick man and we’ll talk.”

Tora moved closer and ran a finger down her cheek. She giggled. He blew in her ear and murmured, “I’d rather see you after work, sweetheart. When it’s more private. By the way, I’m Hiroshi.”

She put down her ladle and turned a flushed face toward him. “Oh, yes, Hiroshi. You’ll be back? Truly?”

Tora grinned and nodded. When her eyes began to shine, she looked almost handsome, though he wished she wouldn’t bare those crooked teeth which reminded him a little of fangs. Her sturdy, buxom body, at any rate, promised a vigorous encounter, and Tora felt magnanimous.

She said eagerly, “I sleep in the storeroom behind the kitchen. Come after the hour of the boar. There’s a door next to the rain barrel.”

The sharp voice of her mistress sounded from the passage. Tora pulled her close and, fondling a plump breast, murmured, “I can’t wait,” and departed.

♦

He spent the rest of the day in the market, chatting with merchants about the three prisoners and consuming a modest meal of stuffed rice dumplings before returning to the Golden Carp well after dark. The gate stood invitingly open for late guests, and a dim paper lantern was lit near the door. But Tora headed for the darkness in back of the inn.

When he opened the rickety door next to the rain barrel into pitch blackness, a pair of sturdy arms seized him. Jerked forward, he overbalanced and tumbled, flailing wildly, into a soft nest of bedding and warm female flesh.

She gasped at his sudden weight, then giggled. “What took you so long?”