“Thank you.” Akitada turned toKaibara. “Take us to the north pavilion!”
Kaibara led them out of thereception hall and down a long dim corridor. Rectangular patches of light fellthrough latticed windows high in one wall, illuminating family armor displayedon the other. Akitada slowed to look at swords, helmets, greaves, breastplates,battle fans, and batons. The collection was large, well-maintained, and ofsuperb quality.
“Look at that,” Tora murmuredwhen they reached a magnificent suit of black-lacquered metal plates tied withscarlet silk cords. Golden chrysanthemum blossoms tangled with waving silvergrasses on the breastplate. “It’s like a painting.”
Kaibara stopped. “You have goodtaste, Lieutenant.” He did not disguise his pride. “The armor is of verysuperior workmanship. Yosai made it for the late lord’s father who wore it inthe battle of Kanagawa. A decisive victory. That’s why we display it on thewall. Most of the other armor, very fine also, is stored in those chests.” Hegestured.
Akitada glanced down thecorridor. For well over a hundred feet, wooden metal-banded chests stood sideby side beneath wall displays bristling with spears, halberds, swords, bows,quivers, arrows, standards, and other battle gear.
Kaibara’s smile broadened as he saw Akitada’s amazement. “Your Excellency has noticed Lord Maro’s swords?” He pointed to matching gold-hilted blades, one long, the other short. Taking down the long sword, he pulled it from the scabbard with a soft hissing sound. The blade emerged and flashed bluish silver in a shaft of light as Kaibara raised it with both hands above his head. His face turned into a snarl of such bloodthirsty ferocity that Akitada stepped back, out of reach of the long blade.
Dr. Oyoshi cleared his throat,and Kaibara chuckled.
Flushing with anger, Akitada stepped forward and took the sword from the steward’s hand. “A fine blade” he commented. “A master made this.”
There was a moment’s pause,then Kaibara said harshly, “They say it drank the blood of a hundred warriors that day at Kanagawa. There’s not a nick in the blade, though his lordship,fighting from a horse, was slashing through bone.”
Returning the sword, Akitada said, “Forgive my ignorance. This battle, I take it, was fought many years ago?”
“Before my time. The late lord was a young man then. Both he and his brother were raised to a warrior’s life.”Kaibara replaced the sword and waited to move on. He seemed to have lost interest in the displays.
“There was a brother?”
“Yes. He was the older. When he died, Lord Maro succeeded. Shall we go on?”
They walked until Tora stoppedto exclaim at an unusually long, beautifully finished bow. A very long blackarrow with a black-dyed eagle feather and a finely crafted steel tip wasattached to its groove. “That bow must be at least one and a half times a man’sheight,” Tora cried.
“That one’s for archery contestsonly,” Kaibara said with an impatient sigh. “We carry shorter ones into battle.The quiver of long arrows gets in the way of the sword arm, and the contest arrows are too expensive to waste on the enemy” He strode off down the corridor without waiting for more questions or comments.
They emerged onto a draftyoutside gallery which took them to the north pavilion. Here Kaibara stopped andasked, “Where was the body found, Excellency?”
Tora and Akitada stepped to the railing and peered down.
“According to the fellow who brought it in,” Akitada said, with a warning glance at Tora, “it must have been just about here.”
“Who-?” began Kaibara.
“Look!” cried Tora. “There are scratches on the railing here. And there”-he pointed-”that looks like dried blood.”
Akitada squinted at the brown streaks. “Doctor?” Oyoshi came and peered also. He nodded. Akitada turned to the steward. “Please unlock the pavilion.”
Kaibara protested: He could notsee the purpose of inspecting the pavilion. Hideo had jumped off the wall, not killed himself inside. Then there was the matter of sacrilege. The room was where Lord Maro had lived and died; his spirit was still there and should not be disturbed. And in any case, he had no authority to unlock the door.
Akitada said nothing but stepped to the door and waited.
Kaibara shook his head, fished a key from his sleeve, and admitted them to the late lord’s death chamber.
The pavilion consisted of asingle square room, empty except for a fine hanging scroll painting of an eagleon a twisted pine branch, two thick tatami mats, and a large leather trunk. Themats were near one of the windows, the only one whose blinds of speckled blackbamboo were rolled up, revealing a view of distant snowcapped mountains. Theview from here was magnificent.
Tora and Oyoshi looked aroundcuriously, but Akitada went to the window. There was no gallery on this side;the outside wall of the pavilion joined the stone ramparts descending steeplyto the rock gully far below.
Suddenly he staggered back, convulsedby a fit of coughing. They all looked at him in dismay. He choked and gagged,stumbling toward Tora who supported him anxiously. “Some water,” he croaked,grasping his throat.
Oyoshi said sharply, “Loweryour master to the ground against the wall there and loosen his robe at theneck. And you, Kaibara, fetch some water! Quick, man! There’s no time to belost! Do you want the governor’s death on your hands?”
Kaibara hesitated only briefly,then ran out. Akitada stopped gasping, jumped up, and went to the trunk. “Let’shave a look,” he said to the gaping Tora.
The doctor chuckled. “I thoughtthat did not sound quite natural.” He joined them and watched as they removedseveral silk quilts and a rosewood headrest from the trunk. “Lord Maro’sbedding,” he said and, when they lifted out a large lacquered and gilded box atthe bottom, “His writing box. What is it that you expect to find, sir?”
“I wish I knew.” Akitada openedthe box. Fitted cleverly inside were two carved ink stones, two porcelain watercontainers, four lacquer-handled brushes, and two cakes of the finest blackink. Akitada touched the ink cakes. “One is still moist,” he said, holding uphis black-tipped finger. “I suppose all those quilts kept the air from dryingit out. I wonder…” He listened toward the door, then shut the box, putting itback into the trunk. “Quick, Tora! Put everything back and close it!” Toraobeyed while Akitada resumed his reclining position against the wall, coughingweakly as Kaibara ran in with a flask and cup.
Akitada drank, croaked “Thankyou,” and allowed himself to be helped to his feet again. “Sorry,” he muttered,wiping his brow. “It must have been the way I breathed in when I looked out.What a nuisance!”
The doctor asked Kaibara, “Doyou happen to know what Lord Maro’s symptoms were before he died? I ask out ofprofessional interest.”
“I don’t know. I expect it washis age. His mind went years ago, and he would not permit anyone, not even hisson, near him. Only Hideo served him. This past summer his speech failed andfinally his body followed.” Kaibara paused and added piously, “The Buddha callsextraordinary men to him.”
Akitada was listening with halfan ear. He studied the room, its floor, walls, ceiling, windows, and door,without seeing anything out of the ordinary. Except for the crookedly fastenedblind, the room was almost too neat. Someone had taken pains to clean up afterthe old lord’s death. He was eyeing the thick tatami mats when Kaibara askedimpatiently, “Where to next, Excellency?”
Reluctantly Akitada abandonedhis train of thought. “Oh, the servants, I think. Hideo’s closest associatesand anyone who might have been near the north pavilion the night of Lord Maro’sdeath.” He cast another glance about and followed the others out.
Kaibara ordered the manor’sdomestic staff to assemble in one of the courtyards.
“Bow to his Excellency, thegovernor,” he told them. They fell to their knees. “He wishes to ask you somequestions about poor Hideo’s …”