I. Parker: Death on an Autumn River

Tora protested. Watamaro hesitated a moment, then nodded. “Fate had a hand in this,” he said, “and so, no doubt, did your friend’s resourcefulness. We should be home by nightfall. There’s a very good physician who lives near my warehouse.”

Akitada had hoped for better, but he accepted the offer. Tora looked very weak.

Several of Watamaro’s sailors helped the two men into the cabin, where they were made comfortable on the floor. Tora opened his eyes again, and muttered, “He’s Masaji.” Akitada glanced at the other patient.

“Masaji’s my disciple,” Tora said with a grin. “I’m trying to live up to his good opinion.”

Akitada thought Masaji looked like a terrified rabbit and wondered for a moment if Tora was hallucinating. “He must be mad,” Akitada said, smiling.

Tora chuckled. “You never had great faith in me. He’s a simple man and does.”

Saburo came up and leaned over Akitada’s shoulder.

“Aiiih!” Tora came upright, his eyes wide with terror. “The demon!”

Akitada pushed him back gently. “No. This is Saburo. He’s had a very hard life, but he is a good man. He’s helped me find you.”

Tora blinked, then asked Saburo, “Who the devil did that to you, man?”

Saburo raised a hand to his face. “Human devils. But that’s in the past. It’s the present I’m worried about, sir.”

“Why?” asked Akitada.

“What if Watamaro is working with the pirates? Who is that man with you, Tora?”

“Masaji. He’s one of the pirates, but you can trust him. He helped me escape.”

“He knows. Look at him. If I’m right, they’ll kill him and all of us.”

They all looked at the terrified Masaji, who looked back and nodded. Akitada blamed himself. He should have suspected Watamaro. Who, after all, was more likely to be involved in piracy? And the man’s sympathies clearly lay with the pirates.

He glanced outside, where Watamaro was busy directing his sailors. Trying to stay calm, Akitada said, “You may be wrong, but it’s as well to be cautious.” He added to Tora, “I think you and Masaji, had better pretend ignorance.”

Tora sighed and closed his eyes again.

Akitada went to speak to Watamaro. The merchant was pacing the deck like a cat walking on hot coals. Akitada suppressed a surge of panic. All of them, including the renegade pirate Masaji, were in Watamaro’s power. On the high seas, they would not have a chance if Watamaro decided to do away with them. Their chances were minimally better back in Naniwa.

He said, “I’m very concerned about Tora’s head injury. He rambles, claims he’s Bishamon and the other man is his disciple. He doesn’t seem to know what happened to him. Can we make more speed?”

Watamaro was solicitous. They would do their utmost to get back to Naniwa. The wind was with them now and was freshening. In a couple of hours perhaps. Akitada thanked him.

The heavens alone knew what awaited them on land.

They reached Naniwa at dusk. Watamaro’s manner had changed. He was still moderately courteous but cool. As they walked to his warehouse, Tora leaning on Akitada while Saburo and Masaji tottered behind, Watamaro’s men surrounded them on all sides. Escape was impossible.

They were prisoners.

At the warehouse, Watamaro took them to his office and gave orders to his men to stand watch. Then he closed the door and turned. “Please sit down.” They all sat. Watamaro’s eyes rested thoughtfully on Tora and Masaji. “It seems we have a problem, my Lord.”

For a moment, Akitada was tempted to continue the pretense of ignorance, but then he nodded. “You mean, you have a problem. Perhaps you’d better tell me about your relationship with the pirates.”

“Ah, I see you guessed. Very clever of you to make me think Tora had lost his memory. The man with him works for me. He knows he’s a dead man.”

Masaji prostrated himself with a wail. Tora glared at Watamaro. “He saved my life. I won’t let you touch him.”

“Your words do you honor, Tora, but he belongs to me.” Watamaro turned back to Akitada. “I think two reasonable men can find a solution to this unfortunate situation. I’ve come to have the greatest regard for you, not because of your birth and rank, but because I found you care about common people. You will agree that’s a very rare commodity among the nobility. Your feelings for the poor young girl who died in Eguchi impressed me.”

Akitada said coldly, “I hope my respect for life extends to all beings, both great and small. Pirates and their masters have little respect for lives or property.”

Watamaro sighed. “There’s nothing to be gained by anger. I know this well enough because I’ve been angry most of my life. The young girl you found could have been my sister. We were poor, and she was very pretty. Alas, the pretty daughters of the poor are unlucky.”

“Good or bad fortune may come to all people,” Akitada said. “I’m sorry about your sister, but that doesn’t excuse your present activities. You’ve become a very rich ship-owner through using both poor fishermen and the local authorities. When you got greedy and enriched yourself further by engaging in piracy in addition to ordinary shipping, you lost the right to take this moral tone.”

Watamaro nodded. “Fair enough, though I’ve brought prosperity to many poor people. But let me make you a proposition. I’m far richer and more powerful than either Lord Oga or the prefect. You, on the other hand, have nothing but a house in the capital and a poorly paid position in the lower ranks of the administration. Oh, yes. I informed myself about you the moment I met you and realized why you had come. I found you to be a capable and decent man. I can use someone like you, and I’ll be far more generous than your current masters. If you agree to help me, you would continue your present life but receive monthly retainers from me. I would only contact you when I needed legal advice in righting an injustice. I would not expect you to do anything illegal. What do you say?”

Akitada flushed with anger. “I’m not for sale. It was you who sent two armed men to my home, wasn’t it? They took the life of a man who had been like a father to me.”

Watamaro raised his hands. “They didn’t intend harm. It was an unfortunate accident. I sent them, yes, but only to make you give up your investigation, nothing else.”

Silence fell.

Watamaro looked down at his folded hands. When he looked up again, his eyes went over all of them and came to rest on Masaji. “A pity,” he said heavily. He looked suddenly old and sad. “I hate shedding blood.”

Masaji scooted forward on his knees to clutch Tora. Tora growled. “You’re not touching him.”

Watamaro stood. “You’ve recovered very quickly, Tora. Perhaps it would be best if you gave me your sword.” He held out his hand.

“The last man who took my sword is dead.”

Watamaro turned to Akitada. “Tell him it’s hopeless.”

Akitada rose also. “It’s hopeless for you , Watamaro. Your threats will make no difference. I’m an imperial official with special powers. If you lay a hand on me and my people, His Majesty will send an army to eradicate you and all your followers. Their blood will be on your hands. It will be much better for you to give yourself up now.”

Watamaro snorted. “In the end, you spoiled aristocrats are all the same. You think no one can touch you. We’ll see about teaching you a lesson.” He walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him. They heard the sound of a metal lock falling into place.

Tora muttered, “Honey in his mouth, but a sword in his belly.” He got up, walked over to a bamboo stand, and swept the document boxes and papers from its shelves. With his sword, he cut the vines which held it together. The shelves clattered to the floor, and Tora hefted two of the bamboo supports in his hand. With a nod, he tossed one to Masaji. “They’re a bit short, but strong and heavy. Are you good at stick-fighting, Masaji?”