I. Parker - Island of Exiles

The light was dim inside. Across from him was a long dais, and on the dais rested a Buddha figure. Behind the statue a lath screen extended across the hall. Lights flickered beyond and a shadow moved behind the screen.

His heart pounding, Akitada quickly crossed the hall and passed around the end of the screen. Here grass mats had been spread and more screens placed to create a series of smaller chambers. The first of these was empty, though a candle burned in a tall holder. Two silken cushions still held imprints.

Akitada flung aside a flimsy screen, saw that the next enclosure was also empty, and rushed across it to tear aside the final screen.

Two old men huddled in the center of this room, their arms about each other and their eyes looking fearfully his way. Tora and the soldiers quickly surrounded them.

One of the two was Taira of the snow-white hair and beetling black eyebrows.

“Who are you? What do you want?” he quavered, hugging the other man to him.

Akitada’s eyes were on his companion. At first glance this man had appeared as senile as Taira, but Akitada now saw that he was only slightly past middle age. He looked much older because his skull was shaven, he was fat, and he had the unhealthy pallor of a sick person. He had changed greatly with the years, but there was no doubt in Akitada’s mind that this was Okisada, the Second Prince, formerly crown prince and heir to the imperial throne. Not dead, but very much alive.

He had the round face, small nose, and thick lips of his imperial and Fujiwara relatives, and once, years ago, on the occasion of an imperial procession, Akitada had seen him ride past in all the pomp and glory of his former exalted position. His present condition made a shocking change from those happier times, but Akitada had never forgotten his face.

He bowed deeply. “Your Highness,” he said, “My name is Sugawara Akitada. I regret extremely to find you under such circumstances. I am afraid that it is my duty to place you and Lord Taira under arrest for attempted treason.” Okisada said nothing. His lower lip trembled and he clutched convulsively at Taira. Taira detached himself gently and said, “Let us resume our seats, Highness, and hear what this person has to say in explanation of such outrageous charges.” Passing Akitada and the staring soldiers, he led his master back to the cushions in the first room. The soldiers put up the screen again. On a gesture from Akitada, they remained. A brazier full of glowing coals made the area hot and stuffy on this late summer day. Nobody invited Akitada to sit. He knelt formally, found that his knee hurt abominably, and sat back on his heels.

He addressed Okisada. “I have no doubt that you already know who I am and why I am here on Sadoshima, but to observe the formalities, I serve as temporary imperial envoy with powers to inquire into certain irregularities among the exiles here. More specifically I was sent to investigate Your Highness’s alleged murder. Would you care to explain why you performed this extraordinary charade?”

Okisada’s lower lip began to quiver again. Taira put his thin hand on his arm and said angrily to Akitada, “How dare you address His Imperial Highness in such a tone and with such words? Where are your credentials?”

“My lord, I believe you know very well where they are.

Besides, since both of you are exiles here, I do not owe you any explanations. We are wasting time. I suppose you expect the arrival of the rebel Kumo before leaving on the ship at anchor in the harbor? I regret to inform you that Kumo is dead, and that Governor Mutobe is at this moment boarding the ship to arrest its captain and men. Your supporters will shortly be rounded up and tried for their involvement in this plot.” Okisada cried out and clutched at Taira again. Taira turned very pale. He snapped, “You lie.”

Akitada removed the gilded sword from his sash and placed it on the mat before Taira. “I told you the truth,” he said. “I killed Kumo myself and took his sword off his body not an hour ago.”

They both looked at the sword in horror. Taira bit his lip, then his eyes searched Akitada’s face. Okisada began to weep.

“All for nothing,” the prince blubbered. “It was all for nothing. Poor Shunsei starved to death, and all my suffering wasted.

Oh, why is this world so cruel to me?” Taira murmured something soothing and stroked the prince’s back.

So Okisada’s lover had died, expecting to join his beloved in another world. Akitada sighed. There was little pleasure in confronting this man with his guilt. He was weak, spoiled, and self-centered, but he had been raised expecting to be emperor.

The disappointment apparently had destroyed whatever good qualities the prince might once have had. He said, “I think you took a carefully measured amount of the fugu poison during the professor’s dinner in order to induce a deathlike trance. You did this to cause the governor’s son to be arrested for your murder and to cover preparations for your return to imperial power.

Your charade worked because neither Sakamoto nor Mutobe’s son were familiar with this particular effect of the poison.”

“What you are pleased to call a charade, Lord Sugawara,” said Taira in a tired voice, “was no more than an accident. We all thought His Highness dead. It was his physician, Nakatomi, who discovered that the prince had fallen into a state approximating nirvana. He remained like that for days. We thought it a miracle when he returned to life, and we were, of course, overjoyed, but . . .” He paused, searching for words.

Akitada snapped, “In that case, why did you pursue the murder charge against young Mutobe? And why allow the monk Shunsei to die of grief?”

Okisada buried his face in a sleeve and sobbed.

Taira sighed. “You don’t understand. We had hoped for better treatment from the authorities here. Instead Mutobe and his son began a systematic campaign of persecution against us and

our sole protector, the high constable. Don’t forget that you are in the presence of the rightful emperor. Our lives are dedicated to returning him to the throne.”

“And so you would have let young Mutobe die for a murder which did not happen?”

Taira raised his brows. “Certainly not. Exile is the worst that could happen to him. He is an irritating young man. A period of military service in the north might make a man of him.” Akitada found himself agreeing with that. Having wronged Toshito by misjudging him had worsened his dislike for the young man. There was something about Toshito that made him the perfect target for false accusations. But it would not do to let Taira know of his feelings. He said coldly, “I do not believe you. Many people have spoken of the prince’s fondness for fugu . I expect he knew the effects of the poison very well indeed. But Sakamoto, Shunsei, and young Mutobe all thought the prince had died. You had the presumed corpse taken to Nakatomi, who pronounced death by poison. Then you staged a cremation and afterwards you, my lord, left for your mansion with the prince hidden in your sedan chair. There you and the prince waited until Toshito would be found guilty and Mutobe would be recalled. But two events interrupted your plans. First I arrived on the scene, and then Toshito escaped from prison.”

Taira growled, “Kumo always was too devout. He should have killed you.”

“Yes. I wondered why I was buried alive in his mine. I take it that the thief Genzo brought you my papers?” Taira did not answer.

“Well, as I said, Toshito’s unexpected escape from prison caused another delay, and that is why you are still here now.

With your ship at anchor in the harbor.”

The prince whimpered. Taira was very pale, but his black eyes burned. “Prove it! We have done nothing.”