recovered,Excellency,” he said with a smart salute. “I also have made preparations. Youwill be proud of the troops. In fact, I came for your Excellency’s banner so wecan make copies to carry into battle.”
The feeling of well-being afterthe exercise evaporated with the water on Akitada’s skin. Here was a man afterSun Tzu’s heart. He shivered and reached for a towel. “Hitomaro will supply youwith what you need. The problem is getting Uesugi out of Takata. That manor istoo strongly fortified.”
Takesuke said confidently, “Hewill fight. How can he refuse and retain his honor now that he has openlydeclared himself ruler of the northern provinces and demanded our formalsubmission?”
Akitada shot him a sharp glanceas he tossed away the towel and reached for his gown. “Just how do you knowthat, Captain?”
Takesuke pulled a folded,bloodstained sheet of paper from under his shoulder guard. “One of my menbrought this from Takata. When it got light enough, they noticed two posts thathadn’t been there before. They sent a man to investigate. He found two freshcorpses tied to the posts. They had been disemboweled and one had this attachedto his chest with a dagger.”
Sickened, Akitada unfolded thepaper. The writing was large and crude, the characters in the middleobliterated by the blood-soaked hole left by the dagger, but the content wasclear: “The traitor Hisamatsu sends this greeting to Sugawara and Takesuke: Bowto the new Lord of the North or suffer as I did.”
“Hisamatsu is dead,” Akitadasaid tonelessly, handing Hitomaro the message.
Hitomaro read and nodded. “Hehad no chance. What good is a raving lunatic to Uesugi? I suppose the other oneis Chobei?”
Takesuke nodded.
Akitada said, “They wereprobably killed last night, a whole day and night after Hisamatsu went toTakata. That means Uesugi did not act until he got news of Sunada’s arrest.”
Hitomaro looked surprised. “Youmean he blamed them for that?”
“Perhaps.” Akitada refolded thepaper and put it in his sleeve. “Or perhaps he had been waiting for Sunada’sinstructions. In any case, he keeps himself informed about developments in thecity.”
“The faster we move on him thebetter,” Takesuke said eagerly. “When will your Excellency give the order to march?”
The man’s eagerness tosacrifice himself and untold numbers of other humans on the battlefield was toomuch for Akitada. He swung around angrily. “Have you not been listening, man?We cannot take the manor. It is inaccessible-as you should have realized longago. And I doubt that Uesugi will accommodate us by coming out. Get it intoyour thick skull and stop badgering me!”
Takesuke blanched. He bowed. “Myapology.”
Akitada bit his lip. He wasashamed of his outburst and tempted to leave the awkward scene for the safetyof his office. Eventually he said grudgingly, “There is still a great deal ofpaperwork to be done before we can bring formal charges against Uesugi, but Isuppose we must make ready to attack.”
Takesuke got up and stood toattention. “Yes, Excellency. Thank you, Excellency.”
Akitada sighed. He could notafford to antagonize this man. “Perhaps tomorrow, Captain,” he said and walkedaway.
¦
Thetribunal archives had lost their dusty, musty air of disuse. On a closerinspection of Sunada’s house, the warehouses had held much of the province’srice stores, and the locked room had guarded the secrets of a planned uprising.
Now everywhere in the tribunalpiles of document boxes covered the floor. The two clerks were bent overpapers, reading, making notes, and sorting Sunada’s records into neat stacks.Seimei bustled about, checking and labeling the stacks and making notes. Aharassed but happy Hamaya greeted Akitada.
“Excellency, I am amazed,” hecried. “You have uncovered an enormous conspiracy! Nobody could have dreamed ofsuch a thing. And it is all here. Lists of conspirators’ names, contacts inother provinces …” He snatched up one of the piles and followed Akitada intohis office. “Look! These are the rice records for the last year. This is theUesugi seal. Sunada paid Uesugi for eight thousand bales of the provincial fallharvest, and the amount is less than half of its value. According to Uesugi,that rice went to the troops in the north.”
Akitada suppressed hisimpatience. Hamaya had worked hard and accounted for part of the missinggovernmental rice stores. He peered at the figures, nodded, and said, “Excellentwork, Hamaya. You and your clerks are to be congratulated. We can charge Uesugiwith diverting government property to his own uses. Start drawing up thepaperwork.”
Hamaya bowed, pink withpleasure. “Immediately, sir. Oh, I almost forgot…look at this. It’s a letterfrom someone in the capital, I think. Stuck in the pages of the merchant’spersonal accounts. It must be a hoax. Surely it couldn’t be … treason?”
Akitada snatched the letterfrom Hamaya’s hand, glanced at it, and felt his heart stop. “Someone’s privatejoke, no doubt,” he told the head clerk and tossed the paper carelessly on hisdesk. “Let me know when the charges are ready.”
He waited until Hamaya had lefthis office, then read the letter again. It was addressed to Sunada andencouraged him in his plan to establish a separate northern rule with promisesof high appointment in the capital if his endeavor could influence imperialsuccession. The letter was unsigned, but Akitada had recognized the seal. Itbelonged to one of the sons of the retired emperor. This young man had brieflyserved as crown prince, but had been replaced in the succession by a child, theson of the present empress and grandson of the Fujiwara chancellor.
Because of Fujiwara marriagepolitics, intrigue within the imperial family was always a danger, andpunishment usually fell heavily on the innocent, on loyal servants and dutifulofficials along with their families, rather than the highly placed principals.
Therefore Akitada stared at theelegant paper with particular horror. It lay on his desk between the blackarrow which had killed Kaibara and saved Akitada’s life and the lacquered boxof Tamako’s shell-matching game. Men played deadly games everywhere. Not onlywas he about to risk his life to secure this province, but the letter representeda bloody upheaval about to happen in the capital, and on his, Akitada’s,report. Yet duty required him to make this report. By a twist of fate, he wasforced to destroy lives, careers, and families, perhaps his own included, whenhe had struggled all along to avoid bloodshed.
Akitada knew that another manwould burn the letter and forget its contents. Echigo was a remote province. Ifthe insurrection collapsed here, the disaffected prince in the capital mightwell give up his aspirations.
But weighed against the presentand future danger to the emperor, this was not an option open to Akitada. Whatif the news of the collapse of the northern uprising prompted desperate actionin the capital? And what guarantee was there that an ambitious prince might notplot again, and again?
He raised his hands to his faceand groaned.
“What is the matter, husband?”Tamako had entered silently, wide-eyed with concern. She looked frail in themorning light, her hands resting protectively on her swelling body.
Akitada smiled bleakly. “I amafraid I may have failed both of us,” he said. “I no longer know what is to bedone.” He closed his eyes. “And I think I am about to fail the emperor nomatter how I choose to act.”
He heard the rustle of her silkgown as she sank down next to him, then felt the warmth of her body pressed tohis. “You cannot fail me,” she whispered, “no matter what you do. It is not inyou.” She withdrew a little. “You will fail yourself only if you shirk yourduty. And how can you fail the emperor if you obey his laws and perform yourduty?”
He shook his head and smiled alittle at her fervor. “Here,” he said, pushing the letter toward her. “Thisaffects you and our unborn child as well. Read it!”
She read. “Whose is this?” sheasked.
“It is Prince Okisada’s seal.”
She drew in her breath sharply.“I see.” Her eye fell on the arrow on his desk. “Would you aim an arrow into adark cave because you thought a bear was moving inside?”
A bear? A cave? What did shemean? Perversely, Tamako’s words conjured up another memory: White Bear, Kaoru’sdog. Kaoru’s long bow. Akitada’s hand went to the arrow. By its length and rarefeather it was a contest arrow, not an ordinary soldier’s issue. He recalledHitomaro’s amazement at Kaoru’s bow, his skill with it. Like his coroner, hisnew sergeant of constables was an enigma.
