at least dispatch a servant to express their regrets at the delay. Clearly, Kiyowara had no intention of receiving Akitada and did not care how rude he was. Akitada was tempted to leave, but sneaking away like a beaten dog did not sit well with him. He jumped up again and stalked angrily to the door, flinging it open to call for a servant.
The gallery outside was empty. To his right lay the way to the entrance courtyard; to the left, a pair of elaborate doors must lead to Kiyowara’s quarters. Akitada opened his mouth to shout for a servant, when he heard raised voices behind Kiyowara’s door. At least one of the voices was male; the other, slightly higher, might belong to either a man or a woman. Both sounded very angry, but he could not make out words.
Akitada hated to be caught eavesdropping and ducked back into the reception room, closing his door softly. He considered that his errand had just become even less likely to be successful. Kiyowara would be in a bad mood.
A door slammed and steps rushed by outside. Then there was silence. He waited a few moments longer and peeked out again. The gallery was empty, the doors closed just as they had been before.
It would be best to leave and return at a more auspicious time. Akitada tiptoed away and quietly left the Kiyowara compound. Someone in the courtyard saw him pass and called after him, but Akitada simply walked faster until he regained the street outside. There was little point in telling a servant about his futile visit and why he had decided not to wait any longer.
UNDER SUSPICION
The rest of that day and the following one passed without bringing any hope of positive change. The heat continued, and there had been too little rain to assure a good harvest. Tamako was feeling feverish, and Akitada and Tora set about hanging wetted hemp panels over curtain stands in her pavilion, while the maid Oyuki plied a large fan to cool her mistress.
Akitada was increasingly anxious about Tamako, even though she kept assuring him that she felt quite well again now that the room was so much cooler. He placed his hand on her forehead and found it still very hot and dry. Jokingly, he said, ‘Let’s hope this heat doesn’t mean our son will turn out to be a hothead.’
She did not smile. In fact, he thought she looked near tears. Perhaps his words had reminded her of Yori. Yori had not really been a hothead, just a very lively and clever child. He had been born in the bitter cold of northern Echigo, where the three of them had survived despite the extremes of climate and hardship. It was ironic that the comfortable life of the capital should have proved so much more dangerous.
Back in his study, Akitada was looking through old correspondence for the name of some past friend who might be willing to speak up for him when Seimei appeared with tea and news.
‘There has been another fire,’ he said as he poured. ‘They say the people will petition His Majesty to appease the anger of the gods.’
Akitada was cynical about such superstitious delusions. ‘Fires happen all the time, and the emperor is still very young and no doubt busy with his wives and concubines. His first duty is to give the nation an heir. And the chancellor supports him in this. His granddaughter has just joined the emperor’s ladies.’
Seimei looked disapproving. ‘The petition asks that the first prince be declared heir because the gods have turned against the second prince.’
‘Not very likely to be successful,’ muttered Akitada, sipping his tea.
Seimei switched to another topic. ‘One of the new appointees died very suddenly yesterday.’ He paused to see if his master was interested. ‘It seems even the nightingale in the plum tree cannot escape misfortune,’ he pointed out.
This was a mistake because it put Akitada in mind of his dead son and the possibility that this time he could lose both Tamako and his unborn child. He snapped, ‘What are those people to us? Less than nothing. Rather tell me that an old friend has come to town, or that there’s a promise of a good harvest.’ Or, he thought, that my wife has given me another son.
Seimei said defensively, ‘This Kiyowara Kane was the Junior Controller of the Right. He was one of your superiors. When he is replaced, it might mean some changes in the ministry.’
Akitada stared at him. ‘Kiyowara Kane has died? You must have misheard. I was at his house yesterday. He was alive and well.’
‘Nevertheless, he is dead today.’ With a certain morbid satisfaction, Seimei went on: ‘A man’s karma is a turning wheel. You can no more stop it than flowing water. And he had just achieved high office, too. They say Heaven never bestows two gifts at the same time. He may have been given wealth and power, but what is that if he has not life?’
The subject had brought forth a spate of Seimei’s sententious sayings, and Akitada interrupted quickly: ‘When did he die?’ And then, remembering the overheard quarrel: ‘And how?’
‘The servants found him yesterday in the afternoon. They say he fell and hurt his head, but people are already muttering that the gods struck him dead for having had a hand in passing over the first prince for the succession.’
Akitada did not believe that the gods had struck Kiyowara dead. Still, it had nothing to do with him, especially when he was on a leave of absence. His only regret was that he could not get Kiyowara to withdraw his censure.
Seimei sighed heavily. ‘Fate is with Heaven.’
Akitada gave him a look. ‘And man must adjust to the blows of misfortune. Let’s discuss ways of raising funds for the Sugawara household or of reducing its expenses.’
The discussion proved unproductive, and the rest of the day passed uneventfully until sunset, when Seimei brought in Kobe. The superintendent of the capital police was Akitada’s friend and sometimes rival. They had known each other for a long time and had frequently worked together on criminal cases. These days, Kobe was in the habit of dropping by from time to time for a cup of wine and a friendly chat.
Akitada greeted him with a smile, and Seimei busied himself with wine and cups as they exchanged greetings.
‘How fares your lady?’ asked Kobe.
Akitada sighed. ‘She’s very uncomfortable. I hope it won’t be much longer. I suppose you know how it is.’ Kobe had two wives and five children by now and would be familiar with the worries over childbirth.
‘My best wishes to her and to you.’ Kobe gave him an encouraging smile. ‘Come, all will be well. Perhaps it will be another son. An heir to the Sugawara name.’
‘We must hope, but life is uncertain.’ Akitada thought he was beginning to sound like Seimei. ‘How is your family?’
‘Thank you, thriving. My oldest wants to be a soldier. It would be safer to attend the university and become an official like his father, but a part of me is proud of him.’
Akitada laughed. ‘Only a part of you?’
‘To sons!’ Kobe raised his cup with a smile.
Seimei slipped out and closed the door. The two friends drank, and a brief silence fell. Akitada thought of his impending dismissal, but decided not to mention it. There was nothing Kobe could do.
Kobe watched him for a moment, then said, ‘And how is the estimable Tora – and his family? And Genba?’
Akitada was grateful for the change of topic. ‘Genba’s gone into the country, but Tora is here, resting after an unpleasant encounter with hoodlums and a fire two nights ago. His wife and baby son are glad to have him home for a while.’
Kobe looked surprised. ‘Hoodlums? Why, what happened?’
‘He was attacked and knocked out by some youths in the street. When he came to, his money was gone. Then he smelled smoke. He went to investigate and found a business and home in flames on the next street. He tried to save an old man, but it was too late.’
‘I heard about the fire. Probably carelessness – an old man falling asleep and knocking over his candle. We don’t need any more unexplained fires.’
‘True enough.’
