“Where are we going?” Tora asked.

“To Takata. Hurry. There isn’t much time.”

The sun was bright in the cold blue sky, and the earth beneath the horses’ hooves so hard that they made good time. When they approached the stronghold, they caught sight of the tail end of the funeral cortege in the distance as it entered the village below.

“Come,” Akitada called to his lieutenants. “Let’s strike out across the fields. I want to have a look at the back of Uesugi’s place. The woods will be our cover.”

Tora and Hitomaro exchanged glances and felt for their swords.

Once they entered the trees, they had to slow their horses. Here the snow still lay in drifts and obscured pathways and fallen branches. In a short while they were lost.

“We’d better lead the horses, sir,” Hitomaro said. “It’ll be faster and safer.”

Akitada agreed, and they moved forward cautiously, guessing at the direction and looking for a thinning of the trees.

Tora stumbled over a root and cursed. “You’d think there would be some roads or paths through this forest. We must be getting close.”

“I expect in times of war, guards patrolled the area,” Akitada said, “but the province has been peaceful for generations. I hope we don’t come across any tracks.”

This was too much for Tora, who had been bursting with curiosity since they left the city. “Why not? What’s this all about?”

“Patience. Ah, I can see the sky over there. We must be coming out of the forest.”

They emerged on the rugged edge of a deep ravine separating the forest from the steep hillside and saw above them the north side of Takata manor.

“Amida,” breathed Tora. “That’s steep. Only a spider could get up there, and it’d have to learn to fly across this ravine first.”

“Do you see the roof jutting out over there?” Akitada pointed. “That is the north pavilion. I want to get close enough to see if anything has been tossed from the gallery above, but we will stay in the cover of the trees as long as possible.”

Hitomaro said, “I doubt anybody’s looking down. They’ll all be at the interment, sir.”

Akitada looked anxiously at the sky. It was clouding over. “I hope so,” he muttered, “but we have lost too much time in the forest. Come on.”

When they reached the area just below the north pavilion, they saw only heavy, undisturbed mounds of snow in the shade of the steep cliff, and the ravine was even wider here.

“I don’t see a thing,” Tora said. “Do you want us to climb down and find a way up the other side?” He did not sound enthusiastic.

Akitada hesitated, looking up at the sky again and studying the gallery above. There was no sign of movement.

He was just about to call off the search when there was a whirring sound followed by a sudden rush of something white among the trees behind them. They took immediate cover behind their horses, and loosened their swords.

A whistle sounded, and some branches cracked. Then silence.

“We are trapped here,” muttered Akitada. “The ravine is behind us.”

“And swords aren’t much use against arrows,” Hitomaro added. “If I’m not much mistaken, that was an arrow we heard.”

They tried to keep their horses quiet and waited.

Suddenly the shrubbery near them parted and a fierce shaggy animal appeared, its ears laid back, and its nose slowly wrinkling up to reveal ferocious teeth. It growled and crouched. The horses backed nervously.

“A white wolf,” Tora gasped. He drew his sword and fumbled for his amulet. Dropping the reins, he jumped forward.

“No, brother!” cried Hitomaro, snatching at the reins as Tora’s horse reared. “It’s a dog. It’s White Bear.” He called to the dog, then shouted, “Ho, Kaoru!” The dog raised its ears, then looked back over its shoulder.

They heard a shout from the forest, and then a tall young man dressed in furs appeared. He was carrying a longbow and a dead rabbit, and he grinned at Hitomaro. “It’s you again, is it?” Taking in their defensive posture, he chuckled. “I see you were expecting hostilities, but it was just me shooting a rabbit.” He held it up.

“This is Kaoru,” said Hitomaro to Akitada.

Akitada nodded. “Yes, I gathered that. I am Sugawara Akitada, the governor, and this is Tora, my other lieutenant. We are grateful for the assistance you gave Hitomaro.”

Kaoru’s teeth flashed. Tossing back his long hair, he bowed. “It was nothing, Excellency. Are you lost?”

“Not really. I have reason to suspect that something was thrown from that gallery above, but there doesn’t seem to be a way to get to the other side.”

“Some object?” Kaoru stared at Akitada, then looked up at the pavilion. He muttered, “By the Buddha!” then said, “Follow me. I know a path.”

They tied up their horses, leaving Kaoru’s dog to guard them, and climbed down into the ravine. As Akitada picked his way among the loose rubble, he scrutinized the ground, following Kaoru, who had found a rough trail leading up the other side.

Once there, they moved slowly along the foot of the massive rocks, poking at the snow piles with their swords. Kaoru was slightly ahead when he suddenly stopped beside a small mound. Akitada compressed his lips. He joined him and bent to brush away the snow. Clothing appeared, stiffened by frost, and then the snow turned red, and there was a thin, aged hand, made rigid by death and the cold, with frozen blood caking the fingers and palm.

“Amida! A corpse!” gasped Tora. “Wonder how long it’s been there.”

“Since the night of the banquet,” Akitada said, cleaning more blood-soaked snow away with Kaoru’s help. The body belonged to an old man. His thin white hair was encrusted with ice and blood, as was the face except for patches of skin discolored by purplish-blue bruises. The eyes stared sightlessly at the sky above, and the mouth gaped in a permanent silent scream. His limbs lay at odd angles and the body had twisted unnaturally. A pool of blood had frozen to the earth under the corpse.

“It’s old Hideo,” said Kaoru, bowing his head. “Poor old man. He was the old lord’s personal attendant.”

Tora stared up the looming gallery above them, and said accusingly to Akitada, “You expected to find him, didn’t you? Did he fall or jump?”

“Neither, I suspect, though we cannot be certain it wasn’t an accident.”

Tora frowned. “He could’ve jumped. If he was a faithful servant to the old man all his life, he might want to kill himself after his master died. It would bring honor to his family and makes more sense than an accident. He’s lived here all his life. How could he tumble over that high balustrade?”