I. Parker: The Old Men of Omi

Akitada, who was also worried, pointed out that the Grand Shrine Festival was the next day, and that Hatta would not miss such an excellent chance to earn enough money for his journey back.

Kosehira grimaced. “Can you imagine what will happen when the constables try to arrest him in the middle of the event?”

Akitada could imagine it, but he preferred to remain hopeful. “The fair grounds are not part of the procession route, and you can position constables in ordinary clothes there to keep a look-out for him.”

Kosehira brightened. “Hmm. Yes. That may work.”

Toward evening, Tora arrived with Akitada’s children and his son Yuki. Akitada greeted them nervously, having no idea how they had reacted to the news of his remarriage. He should have gone home to tell them himself, but that could not be helped now. The children had come on their own horses, smaller versions of Tora’s mount. It gave Akitada considerable pride to see that they could ride so well.

When Yoshi saw him, he cried “Father! Father!” and slid unaided from the back of his little horse to run to him. Akitada swept him up and swung him around, laughing out loud. “Welcome, my son! What a very fine horseman you’ve become!”

“I came all the way on my horse,” Yoshi informed him. “Tora said I was doing very well!”

Akitada put Yoshi down and went to help Yasuko. His little lady also sat her horse well but evidently felt it was appropriate that she should be assisted. She was smiling. Akitada muttered a prayer of thanks to the gods. The children were not angry with him for taking a wife.

Yasuko let him lift her down, arranged her gown, and straightened her straw hat.

“Welcome, my daughter,” he said with a smile. “How very ladylike you look!”

“Thank you.” She peered up at him. “Where is your new lady, Father? I want to see her. Tora says she’s very beautiful.”

He glanced across at Tora and Yuki, who grinned back. “Yuki,” said Akitada, “I’m very glad to see you, too. Come join us while your father takes the horses away.”

Yuki obeyed and came shyly, handing Akitada a letter. Tora gathered the reins of the children’s horses and took them to the stables.

The letter was from Akiko. Akitada tucked it away for later. “Come,” he said to the children. “You shall see my wife. Her name is Yukiko, and she is indeed very beautiful.”

A little later, he gave another prayer of thanks, because Yukiko and the children seemed to like each other. He waited on her veranda while she introduced them to her brothers and sisters.

Tonight would be their third night together, the night that sealed the marriage contract. Of course, he had never had an option in the matter, but neither had he wanted to escape. He put aside any quibbling doubts about this match and reminded himself that he was a man in love. Now, if they could only find the killer, he would be a completely happy man.

Then he opened Akiko’s letter.

It was worse than he had expected. “You sly fox, you,” she wrote. “Here I was worried about finding you another wife, and you engage yourself to the daughter of a high-ranking Fujiwara! I’m making all the preparations here. You need not worry about anything. Oh, what a time we’ll have, your little bride and I. And you are set on a great career. Well done, Brother!”

?

The morning after the third night broke with the noise of festive preparations all around them. Akitada had been awake for a while, watching the sun gradually make its way through the slats of their closed shutters. Yukiko beside him slept in a tangle of quilts and disordered undergown that revealed a smooth thigh and leg. He caressed this limb with his eyes and debated whether to wake her. Her long hair partially covered her face. It struck him that she slept as deeply as a child, and once again he felt that terrible tenderness for his young wife.

He had lost Tamako to childbirth, and for all he knew his new bride, this lovely young creature beside him, was already embarked on that same final journey.

In the corridor outside Yukiko’s room there was a rustling sound followed by whispers and a giggle. Yukiko stirred, stretched like a kitten, yawned, and then turned to smile up at him.

“Good morning, wife,” he said.

“Good morning, husband.” She covered herself, then stretched out a hand to touch his face. “You need a shave,” she said.

He kissed her anyway, feeling the surge of desire returning, but suppressed it. They would be embarrassingly late for the congratulations if he delayed.

He got up and found the traditional wedding offering left outside the door. A tray with elegantly arranged rice buns waited there. When he returned with it, Yukiko was sitting up, twisting her hair into a knot. She seemed to him the most exquisitely lovely woman he had ever seen, and she was his. He knelt to offer her the tray.

She smiled, took the top bun, and offered it to him. Looking at each other, they ate the sweet, honey- flavored treats.

“May the gods smile on this day,” he said formally.

Yukiko blinked. “Oh. I almost forgot. It’s the shrine festival today. And the sun is up already. We must hurry, Akitada.” Already she was up, looking for her robe that he had carelessly tossed aside last night to make love to her.

A little disappointed, he said, “I meant it is the day of our marriage.”

She paused, looking stricken. “I’m sorry, Akitada.” And then, “I know I shall make many mistakes.”

He got to his feet to find the robe, placed it around her shoulders, and held her. Burying his face in her scented hair, he murmured, “In my eyes, you can do no wrong. And you’re quite right. We must hurry.”

?

The preparations for the Grand Shrine Festival took most of the awkwardness from their first appearance together as man and wife. Everybody was far too busy to stare or tease or burden them with best wishes and good advice.

In the courtyard, two ox-drawn carriages stood ready to carry the women and children down to the lake shore. The men would ride. Kosehira, as the governor and a guest of honor, had an escort. Akitada, Kosehira’s sons, and Tora trailed behind. Tora wore his half armor and a sword.

When they reached the lake, they separated. Kosehira was greeted by Abbot Gyomey on behalf of the sponsoring temple, Enryaku-ji, and by the shrine priest of the Hiyoshi-Taisha shrine. Seven mikoshi , the portable shrines containing the kami of the sacred shrines of the mountain, had gathered at Hiyoshi-Taisha in preparation for their boat journey on the lake between Sakamoto and Karasaki. Shrine ceremonies preceded this departure.

Akitada and Kosehira’s sons supervised the arrival of the women and children-who took their places behind screens-and then found their own seats on the grandstands nearby. Tora departed to search the crowds for the puppet man. Takechi and his men were also about.

After the shrine service, the ornate mikoshi began to make their journey to the lake. The procession was solemn and colorful. Shrine priests in red, white, and black attire carried large paper lanterns , shrine maidens, miko , in their traditional red and white jackets and trousers, tossed paper flowers, little boys in court dress performed small dances as they walked, and the mikoshi , very handsome in red lacquer and gilt, each carried by twenty strong, bare-chested young men, passed one by one. The Buddhist priests walked in their black robes, accompanying the image of Monkey, the messenger of the Mountain King and guardian of Mount Hiei.

Akitada had seen the festival before, years ago. It was a strange mix of Buddhist and Shinto observances and divine beings. Today his eyes searched for a killer. Tora reappeared briefly at his side to report that Takechi’s men had found no puppet man in the city. They were now stationed among the crowd here and in the area where the fair was taking place. There had been no sign of him there either. Chances were good that he had indeed left Omi to return to whatever northern province he had found a home in. In was extremely unsatisfactory.