Hitomaro and Tora came in, glowered at Uesugi’s men, and took up position at the door. Tora said, “I hope it’s good news for a change, sir.” He received a frown from Akitada and looked sheepish. Tamako smiled and poured more wine, but her husband looked grim.

“I had not expected to meet your noble lady,” Uesugi remarked to Akitada, bowing graciously to Tamako and ignoring the others. “I am afraid the tribunal is not a fit place for a refined person in her delicate condition.”

Akitada felt a surge of anger followed by fear. Uesugi kept himself too well informed about them. Controlling his voice, he said, “My wife is understandably concerned after the attack on me.”

Uesugi looked solicitous. “An attack? I heard a rumor that you sustained an injury. My dear Governor, you should have sent for me instantly. I had no idea that things had gone so far in this city. Too bad that Kaibara has disappeared. He was checking on some trespassers and has not returned. I think I should move my troops into the tribunal compound. That will straighten matters out fast enough. I wonder if the attack on you had something to do with your recent activities? I trust you are recovering?”

Akitada regarded him coldly. “Yes. No thanks to your man Kaibara, however. It was he who attacked me while I was out taking some exercise. I was unarmed and he fell upon me with his sword.”

Uesugi jumped up, pretending an almost comical surprise. “Kaibara attacked you? Impossible. Kaibara would never do such a thing. He had no orders.”

Akitada raised his eyebrows. “Then perhaps he anticipated them?”

Uesugi tried to cover his slip. “No, of course not. That is not what I... if it happened as you say, it must have been a mistake.”

“Are you calling me a liar or a fool?” Akitada asked.

Uesugi reddened. “Neither,” he ground out. Then he sat down again heavily and muttered, “It will be best to discuss this calmly. I was referring to a mistake Kaibara made. He must have thought you someone else.”

“Who?” Akitada asked interestedly.

Uesugi snapped, “I don’t know. No doubt you arrested and questioned him. What does he say?”

Akitada ignored the question. “What is your relationship with Judge Hisamatsu?”

“Hisamatsu?” Uesugi shot a glance at his retainers. “I see the judge rarely. Why change the subject? Where is Kaibara?”

“You surprise me. I recall that Hisamatsu was a guest at the banquet you gave in my honor. He seems to admire you.”

The Lord of Takata clenched his fists. “A mere courtesy to you,” he said with ill-concealed impatience. “I also asked the garrison commander, a city merchant, the abbot of the Buddhist temple, and your new coroner, Oyoshi. Surely you don’t think I have a special... relationship, as you call it, with all of them?”

“Ah, no,” Akitada said dryly. “Not all of them.”

There was a brief silence. Uesugi shifted. “Let me speak to Kaibara,” he finally demanded. “I’ll have this matter cleared up fast enough. He will be punished for his carelessness.”

“I’m afraid that is not possible. He died in the attempt.”

“What?” Uesugi stiffened. His retainers reached for swords that were not there because they had been left outside, and Tora and Hitomaro walked around them to stand on either side of Akitada.

Uesugi unclenched his fists and some of the tension left his body.

Akitada thought that he seemed relieved by the news that Kaibara could no longer be interrogated. And that was interesting. He went on, “Kaibara’s extraordinary behavior throws a new light on the murder of your late father’s servant and the disappearance of his grandson. I shall have to pay another visit to Takata.”

There was a brief silence, then Uesugi smiled. “Of course,” he said smoothly. “I shall do everything in my power to assist you!” He reached for his cup, and drained it. “What a thing! Kaibara of all people. And you suspect him of murdering the servant and the boy? He must have gone mad.” He paused, cocked his head, and said, “Perhaps not. Perhaps it was a plot. If he really killed my father, I would have been next, no doubt. What a thing!” He shook his head at the monstrosity of such a thought, then added, “I shall certainly be in your debt if you can discover the truth, Excellency.”

Akitada looked grim. “I doubt that, but I do intend to investigate the irregularities in this province, both as its governor and its high constable.”

Uesugi cried, “So it’s true! You have assumed the powers which rest with my family. That is illegal.”

“Do not presume to lecture me about the law, Uesugi. It is what I am trained in, and I assure you that I am quite within my rights. When there is evidence of conspiracy against the emperor or his lawfully appointed representatives, extraordinary powers may be used at the discretion of the governor.”

They looked at each other. Uesugi’s fury faltered, but only for a moment. Akitada caught something in the man’s eyes—it certainly was neither nervousness nor fear. He rose to depart with stiff expressions of regret. Akitada barely nodded.

“Pah,” said Tora, when he had gone. “The bastard lied. It’s easy to accuse a dead horse of eating the missing bale of straw.”

Hamaya put his head in. “The doctor, sir.”

Oyoshi came in, made a small bow to Tamako, nodded to the others, and then approached Akitada. “You look better, sir,” he said and touched Akitada’s forehead.

Akitada looked at Oyoshi’s discolored face and the scabs left by Kaibara’s blade. “Thank you. I wish I could say the same for you. Sit down and have a cup of wine.”

Oyoshi smiled. “I’m not a vain man and this will heal. It might have been much worse.”

“Surely you will not travel to Takata soon?” Tamako asked her husband anxiously as she poured the doctor’s wine.

“Now that the battle lines have been drawn, the sooner, the better,” Akitada said in a tone which brooked no argument. “There is no time to be lost. Uesugi did not make any threats, but that does not mean he won’t take up arms.”

“But it sounds dangerous. And you are far from well,” she protested. “Remember what happened yesterday. If not for Dr. Oyoshi’s powder, your fever might have moved to the wound, and then you might have died.” Her voice trembled over the final word, and tears filled her eyes.

Akitada was embarrassed but softened. “Well, perhaps it can wait until tomorrow.” He added more firmly, “You may leave us now.”

His wife bowed formally to her husband and inclined her head to the others before slipping from the room with a soft rustle of silk robes and a faint trace of orange blossom scent.