residence makes it far more impregnable than the miserable wooden palisades we have been building around forts in the plains. A remarkably good idea!” He looked back and saw that the hill controlled the post road to the north. “In fact,” he added, “nobody approaches without being seen or passes without their permission.”
“It feels like a bad place,”Tora grumbled, looking up at rock and stone foundations and precipitous walls. “I’ll be glad when we turn our backs on it. Remember that curse.” He shuddered. “I bet the hall is full of those angry ghosts.”
The first gateway, surmounted by a watch tower, came into view, and the road suddenly narrowed between rock outcroppings on both sides. They had to ride single-file. It would be easy to defend this gate. Any attacking army would be squeezed through the eye of a needle and deprived of its striking force. Akitada looked at the walls. The sheer drop below the foundations made it impossible to use ladders. And the walls were crowned with wooden galleries that had loopholes cut into them.Beyond, the steep roofs of many halls rose against the murky gray skies.
They passed through the gate,traversed several courtyards terraced into the mountainside, and came to a halt before the main hall. Here another honor guard of mounted warriors was lined up behind a middle-aged man in a handsome black-and-white-patterned silk robe. He stood alone, legs wide and arms folded across his broad chest.
When they had dismounted, heapproached and bowed. “This humble one is Kaibara Danjo, steward to the Lord ofTakata,” he announced loudly. “I bid your Excellency welcome.”
Akitada nodded and stretched his sore limbs. Then he removed his straw raincoat and handed it to Tora, who kept scanning the courtyard nervously. Firmly suppressing his own mounting sense of foreboding, Akitada glanced up at the double-storied block of wood and plaster which rose windowless for twenty feet before its projecting wooden balconies began.
Dismissing Tora and the others,Akitada nodded to Kaibara. “Lead the way.”
A narrow doorway gave access toan equally narrow winding stairway, stone at first, then wood. At the top, a servant helped Akitada remove his boots. The steward Kaibara also removed his shoes and donned a pair of brocade slippers. Akitada noted the gray in his hair and close-trimmed beard, though the steward’s movements were those of a much younger, and well-trained, soldier. They entered a large gallery, its’ walls covered with weapons and armor. Here Uesugi Makio, son and heir to the ailing lord of Takata, awaited them.
As a warlord, Makio was a distinct disappointment. A short man in his fifties, with thinning gray hair,mustache, and chin beard, he looked more like a self-satisfied civil servant.At one time perhaps well-muscled, he had become heavy, and his eyes were mere slits between rolls of fat. Perhaps his paunch or the stiff brown brocade robe prevented him from bowing more deeply. He murmured the formal phrases of greeting.
Akitada disliked him instantly,but much depended on his goodwill, and so he made an effort. “Ah, Uesugi,” hesaid genially. “A great pleasure to meet you at last. I hope I’m not late. The weather is turning and the wind was against us all the way.”
“Not at all. Your Excellency is most punctual. I apologize for the dreadful inconvenience of traveling so far only to be offered rough country fare in crude surroundings.”
The usual polite formula,delivered mechanically. Akitada tried again. “On the contrary, I have looked forward to this visit. You have a magnificent home.” It certainly made for atelling contrast with the tribunal accommodations. “And I congratulate you on the ingenuity of the fortifications. You need not fear enemy attacks.”
For some reason, Uesugi stiffened further. “Your Excellency is too kind. Fortunately our defenses have never been tested. If you will step this way, the other guests are waiting to meet you.”
Akitada sighed. It promised tobe a difficult evening.
They entered a large room whichwould not have shamed an imperial prince. Heavy timbers supported it andcrisscrossed its ceiling. Three of the walls were sliding screens painted withmountain landscapes and hunting scenes, The fourth consisted of shuttered doors. Akitada guessed that the doors led to the gallery he had seen from below. At the moment they were almost hidden by the woven reed curtains with large crimson silk tassels that surrounded a seating area in the center of the room.
Cushions lay on thick matting there, candles and oil lamps were placed around, and large bronze braziers filled with glowing charcoal heated the area.
Five men stood together in asmall group. Four were strangers to Akitada. The fifth he recognized as the commandant of the garrison. Captain Takesuke, in his late twenties like Akitada, was not in uniform tonight. The others were an old monk; a very handsome,tall man in his forties; a short, fat man in his fifties; and another short,elderly, and very ugly individual. They approached and bowed as Uesugi made the introductions.
The cleric in the black robe and brocade stole was Hokko, abbot of the city’s large Buddhist temple. Akitada disliked Buddhism and avoided its clergy whenever he could. Now he was forced to apologize, with some embarrassment, for not having paid this man a courtesy visit yet. He was rewarded with a smile and a pleasant invitation.
Takesuke, who had mainly impressed Akitada with his standoffish manner on their last encounter, was, if anything, even cooler tonight. They nodded warily to each other. Uesugi smiled and clapped the captain on the shoulder. “My friend can be relied upon to keep the peace in the city,” he said to Akitada. “You may leave matters safely in his hands.”
What matters? Was Uesugi suggesting that he, as acting governor, could not or should not maintain law and order in his own province? Akitada was also unpleasantly surprised by the apparent friendly relations between the warlord and the commander of the military guard. As a rule there was jealous competition between such men.
The handsome man was Sunada.Since he was wearing a sumptuous dark silk gown and had a very refined manner,Akitada was startled when Uesugi introduced him as a merchant. Sunada bowed very deeply and murmured something about being honored.
The other three men Uesugi summed up dismissively with a wave of his stubby hand: “Oyoshi’s the pharmacist,Hisamatsu’s the judge, and you’ve already met Kaibara.”
So the ugly old man was a pharmacist, and the pudgy fellow the judge. The pharmacist was of no interestto Akitada, but the judge was another matter. He must be the one Tora and Hitomaro had had the run-in with earlier that day. That suggested a certain hostility toward the new administration. Akitada, who had placed first in lawat the university and served in the Ministry of Justice in the capital,intended to take a personal interest in legal matters here.
But for the moment, he said politely, “I have been looking forward to meeting the local notables,” then took his place on a cushion next to his host.
The others seated themselves on either side by some prearranged system of protocol which placed the most important closest to Akitada and Uesugi. It put the abbot on Akitada’s left,and Captain Takesuke on Uesugi’s right. Sunada and Oyoshi sat farthest away.Uesugi clapped his hands, and four handsome serving women in softly colored silk gowns entered to pour wine into gold-speckled lacquer cups and to place these and pickled vegetables in small gilded bowls on the elegant lacquer trays before each guest.
Time for more compliments.Akitada leaned toward his host. “You spoil your Quests, Uesugi. The entertainment promises to be most impressive.”
“Thank you, Excellency, but the test of a banquet is the food and wine. I’m afraid that you will find our rough fare a sad disappointment after the capital.”
Akitada made a polite disclaimer. He inspected the food, which soon appeared in a rapid succession of pretty bowls and plates. His nausea had subsided, but he sampled cautiously.The prevailing taste seemed to be of some tongue-burning spice. “Excellent,” he told Uesugi. “Spicier than the food at home but very flavorful. And the wine is superb.” It served to put out the fire in his mouth and throat.
The stiff courtesies to his host over, Akitada turned to the guests, who were a curiously ill-assorted group. By cautious questioning he discovered that the merchant Sunada was a wholesaler with connections along the northern circuit and an intimate knowledge of shipping along the coast. He reconsidered his earlier judgment.Such a man had experience and could be very useful to a new governor. Unless,of course, he was already useful to his enemies.
The judge was a disappointment.Akitada’s inquiries about local crime met with a pedantic lecture on the advantages of instituting the harsh Chinese system of punishment. Akitada was a staunch Confucianist himself, but he knew that Japanese customs and conditions were quite different from those in China, and that anyone who
