I. Parker: Island of Exiles

“The proof is waiting. The governor is about to arrest the ship’s captain and crew. Then we will question Nakatomi. I doubt they will hesitate to speak under the circumstances. And with Kumo dead, your connections to the mainland and ties with the Ezo rebels are broken. Your contacts there will also be arrested. It is pointless to persist, my lord.” There was a long silence. Then Taira said, “I wish to see Kumo’s corpse.”

Akitada dispatched Tora with four of the soldiers to bring the body. Then he turned to Okisada. “You must have been afraid of dying, Highness.”

Okisada sat up a little and dabbed the tears from his face.

“Nonsense,” he muttered. “I was very careful. There is not another person in the world who knows as much about the fish as I do.” Akitada heard the boast and believed it. But he still thought Okisada had been lucky. Or perhaps not. For what would happen next was in the hands of the emperor and his advisors, and it would hardly be as pleasant as Okisada’s exile on Sadoshima.

As for Taira, a second attempt at rebellion meant the death penalty.

More to the point, Okisada had just admitted his guilt, though he would not think of himself as being either culpable or foolish. Taira compressed his lips, but did not chide his master.

“I have been wondering how you smuggled the fugu fish to the dinner,” Akitada went on. “Everyone said that you ate only Toshito’s stew and the dishes served by Sakamoto’s servants.”

“I have been in the habit of preparing my own fugu for years. It has certain properties which ease pain and produce a pleasant sense of well-being. That evening I brought a small amount of the so-called poison with me in my sleeve. Nobody noticed my adding it to the stew.”

Heavy steps sounded in the hall beyond the screen, then a dull thump. After a moment Tora appeared and asked, “Where do you want him?”

Before Akitada could answer there was a shout, and then a slight figure in fluttering white robes slipped past Tora. Ribata.

A few steps into the dim room she stopped uncertainly. Her eyes found Okisada. She cried, “Cousin! It is true. You are alive. A miracle! Oh, praise the Buddha!” She went to him, knelt, bowed deeply, and then raised her shining face, taking his hands in hers. “Oh, my dear. How happy I am to find you alive after all! I was lonely for you, my almost-brother.” Ribata’s being another member of the imperial family was no complete surprise to Akitada. After all, Kumo’s grandmother, the senile Lady Saisho, had addressed her as Naka no Kimi, Princess. But if anything, Ribata’s imperial blood made her presence on this island of exiles an even greater mystery.

Okisada leaned forward to embrace Ribata. “Dearest cousin.

It is not a happy occasion, I am afraid. Is it true that Kumo is dead?”

Ribata’s face lost some of its joy. “Yes. His body is outside.

The soldiers said you wished to pay your last respects.” With her help, Okisada struggled to his feet. Together they walked to the front of the hall, followed by Akitada, Taira, and Tora.

Kumo had been dropped carelessly on the wooden planks, one arm flung over his face and a leg bent awkwardly at the knee. Ribata knelt and gently rearranged the body. Dark blood disfigured his brilliant armor, but he was handsome in death.

Okisada made a face, then bent to peer at him. When he straightened, he said, “A pity. He was a great man. And he could have been an even greater one under my rule.” Taira also took a

long look and nodded. They stood for a moment in silence.

Then Okisada reached into his fine robe and handed Akitada something before turning to take Taira’s arm. Together they went back to the room they had left.

Akitada looked down at what he had been given and saw that the prince had returned his imperial mandate. It had been done without explanation or apology for the theft. Of course, as the present emperor’s brother and, in his own opinion, the rightful emperor himself, he probably felt that he had a right to the documents. But Okisada’s voluntary surrender of the papers meant that he had accepted defeat. He had allowed Akitada to complete his assignment. He heaved a deep breath and turned to Tora. “Stay with them. They are to see or speak to no one without my permission.”

Ribata still knelt beside Kumo’s corpse. She was praying, her beads moving through her thin fingers with soft clicks. Akitada waited. When she finished and rose, he said, “Forgive me for troubling you, but I gather that you, too, are a member of the imperial family.”

She bowed her head. After a moment, she said, “Only a handful of people know why I am here. I ask that you keep my secret.”

Akitada hesitated. “It may become relevant to the case against your cousin.”

“No. I swear to you, it has nothing to do with poor Okisada’s case. It is my story alone. Nothing but tragedy will come to innocent people if it becomes known in the capital that I am here.”

“Very well. If what you say is true, I promise to keep your secret.”

“Thank you.” She sighed. “I am . . . was the third daughter of Emperor Kazan. He died when I was only eight. Okisada’s mother and mine were sisters, married to different emperors.

My cousin and I grew up together until my marriage to a high court noble was being arranged. But I was sixteen and in love with a low-ranking officer of the guards. We were found out, and he was sent here into exile. I followed him, disguised as a nun.” She fell silent, as if that explained all.

Perhaps it did, but Akitada was not content. After a moment’s silence, he said, “You must both have loved very deeply to give up so much. And Toshito?”

Now she smiled. “How very perceptive of you, my lord. I suppose you saw the resemblance?”

“Yes. And your . . . husband?”

The sadness returned. “There was no future for us. They would have killed him if I had become his wife. After my son’s birth, I shaved my head and took the nun’s habit for good.

Toshito was formally adopted by Mutobe.” So Mutobe had been the lover? It explained his permanent appointment. No doubt the emperor who had sent him to Sadoshima had made him its governor on condition he stay there. And she had become a nun rather than bring down the wrath of the emperor on the man she loved. Young Toshito probably knew or suspected that she was his mother. No wonder his bearing was haughty. The imperial lineage was in his blood, though it would hardly make him welcome at court.

“Thank you, Princess. Your confidence honors me,” said Akitada, bowing deeply. And, even though he still had his doubts about her, he added, “I ask your pardon for having suspected you of supporting Kumo.”

She gave him a very sweet smile. “Call me Ribata. I am an old woman now and a nun. And you were wise to be suspicious.” She turned to look down at Kumo’s corpse. “I knew him when he was a mere boy. In those days I could not visit my own son, and Sanetomo became like my own. We used to talk about his love for the Buddha’s teachings and for all who suffered injustice in this life. I loved him dearly, but even then I feared and distrusted him. He was . . . too passionate. I often wonder if this place makes some men pursue grand schemes because their world has become as small as a grain of sand.” She turned back to Akitada. “You are a good man and a man of honor. May you find happiness in the small things.” Akitada bowed deeply. As he left the hall and the temple compound to walk back to the farmhouse, he thought about Okisada, Kumo, and even Mutobe. All three were weak men, and all three had become obsessed with dreams of power.

Even little Jisei had bargained his life for an impossible dream.

Akitada suddenly felt a great need to be with Haseo, who had been his friend and protector. Without him he would not have survived. He remembered his face again, shining with the happiness of being free-for too short a time. Haseo had fought joyfully against their enemies and been a better man than any Akitada had met on Sadoshima.