I. Parker: The Old Men of Omi

“Please don’t let me interrupt your work,” Akitada said, looking after them. “You have risen in the world and must be very busy these days. I’ll be in Otsu for a week or so. We can easily find another time to chat.”

But Takechi shook his head. “No, no. I have some time. But that doesn’t mean we cannot share a meal another day. I’d like you to be my guest. We have a very good restaurant down at the lake shore. Their noodle soup and seafood dishes are praised throughout the land.”

“Thank you. I’ll look forward to it. How have you been?”

Takechi placed a cushion for Akitada and poured them some wine. “I’m very well, as you can see. Just getting on in years. My body expands and my agility lessens. But there are compensations. Both the governor and the local people have honored me with their trust. I enjoy a good income and, as you see, my office is quite resplendent.” He chuckled, then added, “Otherwise I’m afraid I’m just the same old peasant’s son trying to keep his wits together while putting the bad fellows behind bars.”

“I’m happy to see your success. As I told the governor a little while ago, you have earned that respect. I remember how you stood by me and that poor child when I was universally distrusted and maligned and he would have died at the hands of those monsters.”

Takechi grinned. “Ah, you should see him now, the young Lord Masuda! It would please you greatly. He’s grown into a fine youngster.”

“Good! I take it his grandfather is no longer alive?”

“No. He died a few months later, but he died happy.”

“And the ladies?”

“Quite well, both of them. Lady Masuda resides in the mansion, and the younger lady has remarried.”

Akitada nodded. It was what he would have expected of both. “But I’m keeping you from your work,” he said, emptying his cup. We’ll talk some more when you’re free. I’m staying with the governor and will spend some time at provincial headquarters, looking into legal squabbles between the temples here.”

Takechi nodded. “Onjo-ji and Enryaku-ji. Yes, a pity that. The local people take sides and we have much trouble keeping them from getting into fights. The monks are stirring it up. But it’s not too bad. Otherwise, things are fairly quiet, except for one death that puzzles me. Come to think of it, you may know the dead man. His name is Nakano. He was a judge when you were here.”

“Nakano? Dear me, yes. The man confiscated all the gold I had brought with me to buy out that child. He would have sentenced me to hard labor if he hadn’t learned who I was. And he returned my gold very grudgingly.”

Takechi nodded. “Yes, that’s pretty well in character. In any case, it may be a natural death-he was an old man- but I don’t quite like the look of things. Would you be at all interested in joining me when I have a look at the body?”

Akitada raised his hands. “Judge Nakano is in very good hands. I’m here to deal with the temple case and have a brief vacation. I’m looking forward to some hunting or fishing.”

Takechi nodded. “Yes, of course. Forgive me, sir. I had no right. Especially when I’d heard about your lady’s death. Please accept my condolences.”

Akitada thanked him and fled. He knew he was fleeing from his grief and his memories and was ashamed, for Takechi was a good man, and at one time he would have enjoyed working with him.

Tora was whistling again. Sometimes things worked out perfectly. His master had looked rested and pleased to be with his best friend, and he, Tora, had been given a day off to have a good time in a place that promised all manner of entertainment.

To make things perfect, he had found a friend. Having taken the opportunity to study the workings of the provincial headquarters, he had paid a visit to the provincial guard, introducing himself as Lieutenant Sashima, formerly commander of the Chikuzen guard. The local commander, a native son belonging to provincial gentry, turned out to be haughty and short with him. Tora decided the fellow felt threatened and became reserved himself. The soldiers were decent enough, but that was probably due to their sergeant, a cheerful older man with twinkling eyes and a ready laugh.

When Tora mentioned that he planned to have a look at the town, Sergeant Okura offered to join him, since he had some business to attend to in the harbor area.

Okura lost no time apologizing for his commander. “He’s a dry old stick,” he said, “but fair enough. We have to put up with the local gentry who snap up all the best jobs in a province. This one at least tries.”

Tora nodded wisely and told the tale of their arrival in Chikuzen and his confrontations with the police captain. Okura volunteered that his own background was the army. Tora responded by calling him “Comrade” and asking where he had served.

“In the north. Horrible snowfall,” said Okura.

“Tell me about it. My master was governor of Echigo a few years back. Another miserable assignment. We were attacked by the local warlord.”

Okura stopped and goggled at him. “You don’t say? When was that?

“More than fifteen years ago. Time flies.”

“The Uesugi affair! Brother, we must talk more!” They had reached the harbor area and Okura pointed to a large wine shop. “We’ll have a few cups there after I take care of this business. Give me half an hour. It seems we have much to talk about.”

Tora laughed. He liked the idea and Okura himself. “Take your time. I’ll watch the boats.”

Okura headed for the harbor master’s office, and Tora wandered along the waterside.

Otsu’s harbor was large like those of Naniwa and Hakata, and yet very different. All three were busy, but while large ocean-going ships docked in Hakata and Naniwa, traffic on Biwa Lake consisted of huge numbers of smaller boats carrying anything from lumber and tax goods to passengers who by-passed travel by road for a leisurely boat voyage.

Tora strolled about, attracting curious stares because of his silk-laced half armor and sword. The unloading of barges and boats was done by laborers wearing only loincloths and bandanas tied around their heads. They were cheerful enough on this pleasant spring morning, and Tora smiled at some of the crude jokes they passed back and forth when two slatternly women sauntered past. The women gave back as good as they got.

The amount and types of materials unloaded and reloaded for the land trip to the capital amazed him. He expected the rice bales from the Northern provinces; these were stacked into huge piles by a steady stream of the half-naked bearers. Elsewhere barrels of oil awaited transport, as did huge sacks of silk floss and rolls of fabric. But there were also many horses, and large containers of paper, lacquer ware and clay utensils, as well as all sorts of food stuffs. The capital absorbed it all and asked for more.

When he decided it was time to meet Okura and was about to turn back, he noticed a disturbance near one of the larger boats. The steady line of bearers walking down the gangway with their burden of rice bales had come to a halt and a group of people seemed to be struggling and shouting on the quay. Tora investigated. To his surprise, he saw several armed monks like the ones they had seen earlier on their journey. They seemed engaged in a threatening argument with some people.

As he got closer, he counted four sohei, and three were armed with naginata, those long handled halberds with sword blades at their ends. The fourth had a sword. All were big men, wearing the usual black armor and white headgear. They had seized one of the laborers who struggled in their grip. Two men, who appeared to be the harbor master and his clerk, objected to this. The harbor master was shaking his fist angrily. “Let him go and stay away from our workers,” he shouted. “There are laws around here!”