I. Parker: The Old Men of Omi

“It doesn’t really matter what everybody else did or didn’t do. The only man who really harmed your family was Taira Sukenori. Everything else followed from his murder of the rice merchant and the plot he fabricated to escape just punishment with your father’s assistance. Your father was as culpable as he.”

Takashi reared up in sudden fury and tried to throw himself at Akitada. Only his chains stopped his violent lunge, and he fell back, sobbing. “You dog-official,” he shouted. “Dog-official like the Taira dog-officials! May the gods destroy you all! May a thousand devils flay you alive in hell! May you burn forever. You use people and throw them away like so much filth. You take our land, rape our wives and daughters, and kill us when it suits you.” He choked and collapsed into incoherent curses, tears running down his face.

Takechi touched Akitada’s arm. “Come, sir,” he said. “We have all we need.”

Akitada nodded, but he had one more question. “Why did you leave a figure of Jizo on the bodies of the men you killed?”

At first, the prisoner did not answer. Then he muttered, “I’m a traveler in a dark and dangerous world, a world where all roads lead to death. I needed his protection until I had my revenge.”

Outside the jail, Takechi said, “So it meant nothing. We’ve been racking our brains in vain.”

“Not quite nothing.” Akitada had felt a great depression settle over him during the interview. Like some huge dark cloud, it managed to blot out the joy of springtime, love, and hope. “ ‘A dark and dangerous world,’ he called it. Jizo was his talisman. After each murder, he left it behind as a token that he had fulfilled an oath he made to his dead father.”

“Jizo is a kind spirit, a spirit of protection for the weak. It’s a shocking insult to ask his help in the killing of innocent people.”

“Well, not quite innocent in several cases, but you’re right.” Akitada sighed. “We’d better report to the governor.”

Kosehira heard their account silently. In the end, he only said, “Well, he’ll be condemned to exile again and sent back. For all we know, he’ll step right back into his position as trusty and live out his life with his family. We have a very inadequate system of justice.”

Akitada felt compelled to protest. “Hatta had very great provocation. It should have been Sukenori who was sent to work in the mines.”

Kosehira thought this funny. “Such a thing would never happen, Akitada. Send a Taira nobleman to the mines? The notion is mad.”

Akitada snapped, “Yes, and that is what causes men like Sukenori to behave the way they do: they know they can’t be touched. The only thing Sukenori feared was the loss of a lucrative position he craved.”

Kosehira gave him a sharp glance, perhaps to warn him that Takechi was with them. Akitada looked at Takechi who looked back. At that moment Akitada felt a greater bond with Takechi than with Kosehira, even though he was his best friend and father-in-law.

As if he had read his thoughts, Kosehira said, “ You are one of the good people, Akitada, and you’ll soon surpass men like Sukenori. Consider this a good fortune for those without power.”

In spite of all the happy preparations around him, Akitada could not shake his depression or the nagging thought that he, too, might succumb to the poisonous lure of power some day. Then a small consolation arrived in the form of a message from Warden Masaie. Young Masaie had married the maid Mineko. This news went a long way toward lifting Akitada’s spirits as he prepared to bring Yukiko home to a house that had been too long without joy or hope for the future.