I. Parker: The Old Men of Omi

The highway between the capital and Otsu was always crowded. Akitada’s entourage shared the roadway with mounted messengers, farmers’ carts, pilgrims and other travelers, both on horseback and on foot, as well as contingents of soldiers and of heavily armed sohei, warrior monks belonging to one of the temples on Mount Hiei.

They had been passed quite rudely by these soldier-monks a mile or so back. In spite of the fact that their flag marked their convoy as on imperial business, the sohei , their heads shrouded by white cloth, but their bodies wearing full armor, had forced their way past with shouts of “Make way! Make way!”

Akitada had glowered at their leader, who had stared back impudently as he passed. His followers had laughed and added some rude shouts that “slow old men should stay home.”

He could not be sure whose sohei these were but guessed they belonged to the mountain temple complex of Enryaku-ji.

The government was becoming very nervous about the warlike preparations at Enryaku-ji. The temple now hired mercenaries and trained both lay monks and regular members of the monastery to fight. They claimed they had to do this for their own protection, but Enryaku-ji owned an enormous amount of land in the area and was turning its manors and villages into armed camps. His visit to Otsu was an effort to avert a war between the monks of Onjo-ji and those of Enryaku-ji by settling land disputes legally.

Akitada sat his horse with slumping shoulders, bleakly taking in his surroundings. This journey added to his sense of futility by bringing back memories that were painful. Ten years ago, he had been here, mourning the death of his firstborn during the smallpox epidemic. In a way, he had also mourned losing his wife’s love. On that occasion and in his distraught state, he had thought to end his loneliness by raising a silent child he found wandering near the highway to Otsu. This had been in vain, but somehow he had found his wife’s love again. They had clung together more closely than ever before.

But now he had lost her for good. It had happened in another spring two years before, and this time he had found no way to cope with this loss except through work. To make things worse, he was in poor health, having suffered a knife attack some time later.

His health was part of the reason for this excursion. It was thought he needed to get away for some pleasurable and relaxing days or weeks as the guest of his best friend Kosehira, currently governor of Omi province.

The other reason was the assignment, but the real work was to be done by the men in his entourage with minimal supervision on his part. Much of it would be in the hands of the man riding in the sedan chair. Yoshida Kunyoshi was the imperial archivist. The other officials served in various offices and bureaus of the government, but they all had one thing in common: they were very familiar with the contentions of two immensely powerful Buddhist temples in Omi province: Enriyaku-ji and Onjo-ji.

Kunyoshi was well over eighty and had occasional memory lapses, but no one else had his experience. Akitada knew him well and had frequently consulted him in the past. Their relationship went back to the very early years when Akitada had been a student at the university and sought information for papers assigned by his professors. But this had been a very long time ago. Nowadays, Kunyoshi suffered from all the aches and infirmities of old age and had become ill-tempered.

Akitada, though only in his forty-third year, felt like an old man himself.

Tora returned, muttering about city people being unable to ride horses. Akitada sympathized with them but said nothing. He looked forward to getting off his horse and relaxing his sore body in a hot bath.

He also looked forward to seeing Kosehira again. It had been years now; they had both been sent to opposite ends of the country. Kosehira had regained the favor of the court after a punitive assignment for having supported an imperial prince suspected of treason.

“Look, there’s the lake!” cried Tora. “It’s beautiful. Oh, sir, you’ll see we shall have a wonderful time. Very little work and no tangling with murderous villains this time. We’ll go hunting, fishing, riding, and visit famous spots, and in between there’ll be delicious food and a good rest.”

The lake was beautiful. It glistened like a polished silver mirror between the hills up ahead, but Akitada could not hide the irritation that Tora’s cosseting caused. He hated being treated like an invalid, especially when he felt like one.

?

Kosehira and two of his sons were waiting outside Otsu. Akitada dismounted, somewhat painfully, and embraced his friend as the two young men and Akitada’s retinue looked on. Akitada was nearly moved to tears to see his closest friend again. He released Kosehira, blinked, and looked with astonishment at the two young men. Kosehira introduced them as Arihito and Arikuno. Akitada remembered them as small boys. They bowed with smiling faces while he marveled that so much time could have passed in the blinking of an eye.

Kosehira studied Akitada’s face with a worried frown. “You look ill,” he said. “Are you? Is something wrong?”

Akitada grimaced. “No, no. I’m well enough. I’m not used to traveling long distances on horseback anymore.”

This did not reassure Kosehira. He said, “We must get you home right away. A hot bath and a good meal, and then it’s bed for you.”

“Thank you, honored Mother.” Akitada smiled at him fondly.

They chuckled, but Kosehira simply overruled Akitada when he tried to protest the arrangements. The officials and some of the servants and porters would proceed to Otsu and the tribunal, where quarters were waiting for them. Akitada and Tora, however, would turn off to ride with Kosehira to his private villa in the foothills overlooking the town and the lake.

The villa was a sizable property with gardens and outbuildings, but Akitada saw little of it. After the promised bath and a fine meal that Akitada did little justice to, Kosehira said, “If I recall correctly, you already know Otsu.”

Akitada nodded. “Yes. I thought I might look up a few acquaintances. The Masuda affair, though it’s been ten years, is still fresh in my mind. I wonder if Warden Takechi is still here. I really liked the man.”

“I’m glad to hear you say that. Takechi is indeed still here, and a most reliable man indeed. He’s police chief now.”

Akitada was pleased and searched his mind for other names, but he was getting very sleepy. Kosehira noticed.

“More time for talk tomorrow.” he said. “I look forward to introducing the rest of my family, and then we’ll make some plans for your entertainment.” He rubbed his hands, glowing with pleasure. “I have such plans! You’ll see. I’ve dreamed of seeing you again for such a long time.”

Akitada grew speechless at this and embraced his friend again before seeking his room.

?

He slept well and for a long time, waking to bright sunshine and feeling quite refreshed. A small amount of soreness remained, but the hot bath had done much to deal with the effects of the long journey. Perhaps, he thought, I haven’t quite become an old man yet. He resolved to do more riding while he was here and also to practice swordsmanship with Tora to get himself back into shape.

But first things first: he was to meet Kosehira’s family and see more of the villa and then accompany his friend to provincial headquarters in town. He planned to talk to the team that was to work on the temple documents and witness statements.

As he made his way to the reception rooms, he could see that Kosehira had made his family comfortable. There were several wings facing a large garden and ample service buildings. From the galleries that linked the pavilions, one could catch enchanting glimpses of the lake and the city below while surrounded by trees and fields of rice and other crops.