Ingrid Parker - Rashomon Gate – A Mystery of Ancient Japan

"Not at all. Not at all. Welcome, child!" Lady Sugawara's voice was warm, and she smiled in the kindest manner. "I see," she said, "my boorish son has neglected to provide you with a sedan chair. I apologize for him. Please come and sit with us!" She patted a cushion which had been placed between herself and her daughters.

Tamako thanked her and bowed again before greeting Akitada's sisters and taking her place beside them.

Having seen her installed, Akitada cast an imploring glance at his mother, who looked back blandly. He made his excuses, claiming that he had to meet friends, and escaped. It was a cowardly act, but he consoled himself that his mother would have resented his presence as a sign of distrust.

Miserably he wandered along First Avenue towards the gate through which the procession would leave the city on its way to the shrines on the banks of the Kamo River. Neither he nor his family intended to follow it the whole way.

The viewing stands stretched along the entire length of the parade route and were already well filled with onlookers. Above some flew banners with the crests of the ruling families of the realm. Between the stands or behind them, elegant painted and gilded carriages of the nobility had been placed side by side, the oxen unhitched and the shafts propped up on supports. From beneath the woven shades the scented and many-colored sleeves of court ladies protruded. Passing dandies guessed at the occupants and made flattering comments on the color combinations in hopes of eliciting a giggle or even a wave with a fan.

The crowds thickened near the palaces of the great nobles along the southern side of the street. Here and there the imperial guard was in evidence, mounted on prancing horses, their bows and quivers slung over their shoulders.

Suddenly Akitada saw a familiar face. Young Minamoto was seated on one of the stands. Next to him was a tall man in his thirties. The stand was draped with the Minamoto crests, and Akitada wondered if the tall man might be Lord Sakanoue. On an impulse he crossed the street. He saw that the boy was wearing particularly fine robes, but his face was pale and set. He seemed to look at the spectacle in the street with blank eyes. The man next to him wore a haughty and forbidding expression. The slitted eyes and impassive features seemed to belong to a statue rather than a living, breathing human being.

Then the boy saw Akitada and rose to bow. Turning to his companion, he said, "Allow me to present one of my professors. Doctor Sugawara, my lord."

The impassive eyes flicked Akitada with a glance. The stony head barely nodded.

"This is Lord Sakanoue, my guardian," the boy explained.

Akitada bowed, saying with a smile, "I had hoped to make your acquaintance, my lord, to tell you what a fine student your ward is. Now I am glad to see that you are giving him a day's outing. He deserves it. He has been working very hard."

"It is his duty to work hard," said the other curtly, in a surprisingly high, nasal voice. "It is also his duty to attend official events. As his teacher you should know this."

Akitada found the man's words offensive and therefore did not acknowledge them. Instead he turned to the boy again, saying, "You must be enjoying your visit with your family."

The boy colored. "My sister could not attend," he murmured, "and there is no one else."

"You may continue your conversation some other time," barked the high voice of Sakanoue. "The procession is about to start. It is very unseemly to stand about chatting when people have come to observe."

The dismissal was as rude as it was final. Akitada bowed and withdrew without another word. But he saw the tears of shame in the boy's eyes and blamed himself for having provoked the unpleasant scene with his impulsive action.

He continued his stroll along the stands worrying about the boy, following the rest of the sight-seeing and socializing crowd absentmindedly until the noise in one place caused him to look up. He saw four stands, elaborately decked out with flags, greenery and hollyhocks and filled with a large crowd of boisterous celebrants in silk robes of every shade and pattern. The Fujiwara crest flew gaily in the breeze above all four stands. Akitada scanned the faces. Somewhere in the middle he found the rotund figure and smiling face of his friend Kosehira. Evidently he had strayed into a party hosted by Kosehira, and he ducked his head and passed by quickly.

But Kosehira had already seen him. He was shouting, "Akitada! Akitada! Up here!" When Akitada turned, Kosehira had climbed upon his seat and was waving excitedly. "By all that's holy! It is you! Come up here, man!"

Akitada feigned pleased surprise and clambered up. Kosehira made room next to himself, found a pillow for Akitada, introduced him around and insisted he stay for the procession. In the distance sounded the great drum, and they could hear the runners' first shouts to "make way." Akitada settled down to enjoy himself.

The procession came their way so quickly that there was little time to exchange news with Kosehira. In the vanguard walked the Shinto priests in their white robes. They were followed by officials in bright yellow silk who carried large red and gold fans on long poles.

Someone pressed a lacquer box filled with elegant snacks into Akitada's hand, and Kosehira urged him to eat. Just then flag bearers passed, followed by an ox-drawn carriage covered with blooming wisteria branches. Their sight and scent reminded Akitada of Tamako and he closed the lacquer box on his lap. He had no appetite.

"Isn't he magnificent?" asked Kosehira, pointing to the huge ox. "He belongs to Sakanoue, who has donated him to the Kamo shrine. Rumor has it that that there have been bad omens about his marriage."

Sakanoue again! Akitada glanced at the beast, heavily garlanded with wisteria, draped with orange silk tassels, and led by a handsome youth in a colorful court robe. It was more likely that the arrogant man he had just met was more concerned about currying favor with the emperor than buying off the gods.

Immediately behind the ox rode the emperor's messenger to the Kamo deity. A handsome young man in costly robes, he sat his horse well. The spirited horse was a rare dappled gray and elicited cries of admiration. He pranced, causing the red silk tassels hanging from his head to bounce, and the young man on his back laughed out loud. When his eyes fell on Kosehira's stand, he flashed a broad smile towards them and waved before passing on.

"The empress's brother," Kosehira shouted into Akitada's ear over the applause of the crowd. "Not at all bad, considering he was up most of the night with us, drinking and reciting poems." The rest of his words were drowned out by the rhythmic booming of the great drum which made its appearance next. It travelled on another decorated ox-drawn carriage and was beaten by a muscular giant of a man, stripped to the waist and already glistening with perspiration in the cool morning air.

Akitada was glad there was no need to make conversation. He had fallen into a depression, and Kosehira's reference to the poem-composing nobleman had reminded him of this evening's competition in the Spring Garden, which in turn called to mind the brutal murder of the girl, his assignment at the university and his unease about Hirata.

The drum passed, followed by a group of beautifully gowned and masked dancers who paused briefly before their stand to give a performance. Kosehira leaned towards him again. "I hear you are teaching at the university now," he said. "Your talents are wasted, my friend. Heaven knows there is too much trouble in the world for a man of your ability to pass his time in the schoolroom."

Akitada sighed. "I don't know what trouble you are thinking of, but even at a university there may be the occasional puzzle to solve."