I. Parker: Island of Exiles

“Never mind. Sugawara is quite right. He will need to know a little more. The danger of an insurrection may be over now that the prince is dead, but what if it is not?” He paused to pour himself another cup of wine and drank.

“It all began three months ago when we-I refer to the private office of the emperor-heard rumors of some trouble between the governor of Sado Island and its chief constable. As you may imagine, His Majesty is vitally interested in anything which pertains to the tragic situation of his brother. It is a pity that we are not kept better informed.” He harrumphed.

“But that is neither here nor there. We checked into the matter and found that the quarrel was unrelated to the prince. Apparently Mutobe, the governor, in a bout of ill-advised zeal, over-stepped his powers and interfered with law enforcement on Sadoshima.”

“Forgive me, Excellency, but I do not understand what this has to do with the prince’s murder.” The thin man bit his lip and exchanged a glance with his friend. “We traveled to Sado to verify the facts.” Akitada shook his head. “I do not think so. The journey to Sado Island from the capital is long and dangerous. In this instance, Your Excellencies appear to have undertaken the journey without escort and incognito. Would a minor squabble between two provincial administrators really cause His Majesty to send his most trusted advisors on such an assignment?”

“Look here, young man,” blustered the short visitor, “you ask too many questions. We have explained as much as you need to know. Now it is up to you to find out who killed the prince and why.”

Akitada bowed. Nobody said anything for a while.

Finally the thin man sighed again. “As you know, Sadoshima is a notorious haven for pirates who ply the ocean up and down the coast. Not far to the north from here, our armies are fighting the Ezo warlords again. With the prince on Sadoshima, you can see what our enemies might do.”

“You were afraid that the prince might become a hostage to the Ezo?”

“That was one possibility,” agreed the thin man.

Akitada suddenly saw the real danger and the full dilemma faced by his two noble visitors. The other, unspoken and un-speakable, scenario was that Okisada himself had been negotiating with the Ezo in another attempt to seize the throne.

Akitada felt a cold shiver run down his spine. The bloodshed along the path of such an army led southward by a claimant to the throne would be unimaginable. The people of Echigo and his own small family would certainly be victims in such a war.

The Ezo, their hostile barbarian neighbors to the north, had threatened the peaceful life of Japanese peasants for hundreds of years. Recently their chieftains had submitted to the emperor in Dewa and Mutsu Provinces, but the military strength and expertise of these warlords had grown. They rebelled often, and still posed a continuous threat to the nation.

“Will you accept the assignment?” asked the thin man.

Akitada bowed. “Yes, Your Excellency, provided that my doing so is properly authorized by you in His Majesty’s name.”

“It is not likely that you will be told anything if you go there in an official capacity. Much better that you travel incognito.” Akitada said, “Perhaps I could travel as a peddler or peasant, carrying my papers sewn into my clothing. Nobody pays attention to common people. But I must have properly authorized documents.”

They did not like it, but the thin man finally agreed. “Let us sleep over it. We are tired and you will wish to make preparations.” He looked at Akitada. “May I suggest that you stop shav-ing? Otherwise you will hardly convince anyone that you are a peasant or vagrant.”

“There is one other small problem,” Akitada said nervously.

“I have not received my salary since I arrived here with my family. My retainers have not been paid, though they have carried out the duties of secretary of the tribunal and constabulary officers. I have exhausted my own funds making repairs and cannot leave my people destitute.”

They looked at him in amazement. It occurred to Akitada that they were probably so wealthy that they would never find themselves in his desperate situation.

The short man said, “But why did you not draw on the provincial treasury for salaries and expenses? Everybody does.”

“I had no authorization, Excellency.” The short man blurted, “That old law? Nobody follows that any longer. Don’t you know anything? It boggles the mind that-” The thin man put a restraining hand on his sleeve, and he concluded, “Hmph. Well, do so immediately. Collect what is owed you and enough to see your family and staff through the next week or two. You should be back by then.” The thin man said more gently, “These days provincial administrators are expected to draw funds from the local treasury, Sugawara. That is why they send an examining official to settle accounts when you leave your post.” He nodded to his companion, and they got to their feet.

“Thank you.” Akitada was not sure whether he felt more ashamed of his ignorance or happy that his financial woes were solved. He decided on the latter. “Allow me to offer you my quarters,” he said in a spirit of wanting to share his good fortune. “They are not much, but my wife and I will do our best to make you comfortable.”

The short man cast a glance at the patched ceiling and broken shutters of Akitada’s office. “Thank you, but we have already taken rooms at the local inn.”

Akitada accompanied them to the front of the tribunal hall.

From the height of its veranda, they could see across the tribunal walls and the roofs of the provincial capital all the way to the sea. On this clear day, it was just possible to make out the long hazy outline of Sadoshima on the horizon. It seemed another world.

In the courtyard, the constables were just finishing their drill. When Tora, one of Akitada’s own men and their temporary lieutenant, looked up and saw them, he called the constables to attention. Arranging his cheerful face into sterner lines, he saluted stiffly as the two noble gentlemen descended the steps to the courtyard and passed on their way to their horses.

Akitada breathed a sigh of relief. The constables had actually looked pretty sharp, in spite of their lack of proper uniforms, a matter he would remedy immediately. But Tora spoiled the good impression he had made by shouting up to Akitada, “Well, sir, are we going home at last?”

The short visitor, almost at the gate, froze in his tracks for a moment before continuing.

“Report to my office, Tora,” snapped Akitada, and walked back inside.

Time was when Tora had been a mere peasant and foot soldier. Then he had fallen on even worse times and was hunted by the authorities as a deserter and bandit. He owed his change in fortunes to the day Akitada had offered to take him on as a servant.

Tora had almost turned down the offer. In those days, he had hated officials almost as much as the injustices his family had suffered. But his master had been as intolerant of injustice as Tora, and they had built a strong friendship, one in which Tora expressed his opinions freely. They had saved each other’s lives repeatedly and risen in each other’s esteem through mutual tolerance of the other’s shortcomings, namely Tora’s womanizing and Akitada’s rigidity about the law.

Now Tora ran after him, boots pounding on the wooden planks and startling the clerks in the archives. “Well?” he demanded again.

“Why did you shout at me?”

“Because you were too far away.” Tora grinned with his usual impudence.

Akitada sighed. Tora was incorrigible, but the fault was his.

He had treated him from the start more like a brother than a servant. “I shall have to leave for a week or two,” he said. “There is some trouble in Sadoshima. The former crown prince was murdered. I am to investigate the murder charge against the governor’s son.”