Hokko touched Akitada’s sleeve.“I almost forgot. There was another part to the message. I am to tell you thatthe boy is safe.”
Akitada blinked. He hadforgotten the missing boy over his own danger. For a moment, he did not knowwhat to say. When he found the words to ask about Toneo, a great roar went upfrom the crowd: “Tsuneya! Tsuneya! Tsuneya!”
Genba had lost the match.
SIXTEEN
THE SHELL GAME
It was only late afternoon, but lanterns swaying from the rafters of therestaurant already cast a smoky golden light over the flushed and shining facesof men; old and young, poor and well-to-do, laborers and merchants werecelebrating with the champions of the wrestling contest. Harried waitressesmoved among the guests, pouring warm wine and carrying heaping trays of pickledvegetables and fried fish. Someone was singing along with the folk tunes playedby an old zither player, and Tsuneya, the champion, was giving a soloperformance of a local dance on a sake barrel.
Genba was there also,surrounded by his own circle of supporters. It mattered little to Genba’s fansthat he had lost the final match; he had come very close to winning, and thatwas reason enough for them to celebrate. And there was always next year.
Akitada, a stranger to all butGenba, stayed well in the background. He had come to congratulate Genba andbecause he wanted to gauge the mood of the local people. Their light-heartedrevels reassured him, but his thoughts were on the coming night and hisattention on the door to the restaurant.
Genba did not look at allunhappy with his loss to Tsuneya and was soaking up compliments, food, and winein enormous portions. Akitada had put aside his fanciful notions about thecontest somehow forecasting his future and felt relieved that Genba had notwon. Winning the title would have meant his departure for the capital toperform before the emperor.
Thinking of this, Akitadaleaned toward Genba and asked, “Will you continue with your wrestling?”
Genba put down his cup andburped softly behind his hand. Then he grinned, patting his huge midriff. “Sorry,sir. I’ve had no wine during training and now it seems to put wind in my belly.As for the wrestling, well, I guess it’s in my blood. I was amazed how easilyit all came back to me. And that was a good match today, sir. Never think theyare yokels fresh from the farm or mountain men who live in caves the rest ofthe year. No, people honor the art hereabouts. Tsuneya has a very good chanceof becoming national champion.”
“I could see that.” Akitada’sheart sank at the thought that he was losing Genba after all. But he addedbravely, “I had no idea that you were so good. I was very proud of you.”
“Thank you, sir.” Genba lowered his eyes and scratched his shiny scalp, overcome with embarrassment.
The either player struck up another tune, and Akitada’s eyes wandered to the door again. Nothing. “So, I suppose,” he persisted, “you will not wish to take up your duties at the tribunal now?”
Genba stared at Akitada, his smile fading. “Why not? Don’t you want me anymore?”
“Don’t be foolish!” snapped his master, his nerves stretched as tight as the old man’s zither strings. “Of course I want you. I even need you. But you cannot serve as my lieutenant in the tribunal and at the same time engage in wrestling as a profession.”
“Oh!” The grin returned toGenba’s face. “In that case, don’t worry. I was afraid you were angry with mefor spending so much time away. I’ll be going back to the tribunal with Hito and Tora as soon as this party is over. My landlord’s already paid off, and my things are over there in that bundle by the door. Some more wine, sir?”
“Thank you,” said Akitada with feeling and held out his cup. His eyes went to the door again. He noted thebundle, then tried to control the sick panic that had been forming in his bellyever since the abbot’s warning. But the door finally opened and Hitomaroslipped in, brushing a dusting of snow from his jacket.
Akitada put down his cup andgot up to meet him. “Well?” he asked, his heart beating faster.
“No difficulties at all, sir.”Hitomaro took a tightly folded and sealed paper from his sleeve and handed itover. “The weather is changing,” he added. “The captain seems to think thatwill make it easier to hold the tribunal.”
Akitada felt almost dizzy with relief. He scanned the letter and nodded. “The abbot was right. Takesuke willhelp us. One hundred men. He expresses his eagerness to uphold imperial authority in this province. Very proper.” He gave Hitomaro the letter with atwisted smile. “Perhaps his fervent wish to ‘sacrifice his own life and that ofall his soldiers in this stand against the military might of traitorous warlords’ is a little unsettling, but I am grateful for his support. It seems we are not friendless after all. Come, join us for a quick bite and a cup of wine. I expect we have a long night ahead of us.”
Much later that night, past the hour of the tiger, Tora and Hitomaro, in partialarmor, sat dozing in Akitada’s office. They had spent several hours helping toprepare for the defense of the tribunal. Now there was nothing left but thewaiting. Akitada had sent Seimei, who was still weak from his recent illness,to bed.
The smell of wood smoke was inthe air, and a faint red glimmering showed through the closed shutters wheremetal cressets filled with oil-soaked kindling lit the courtyard. Now and thenone of the guards outside pulled his bowstring with a loud twang to show thatall was safe. Their master slept, wrapped in quilts and protected from thepervasive drafts by low screens. Genba snored in a corner.
“Go turn him over,” mutteredHitomaro, “before he wakes the master.”
Tora stumbled up, shook Genba,who grunted and rolled onto his side. From the courtyard came the muffledshouts of the sentries. Tora stretched and yawned. “I’ll take a look around,”he whispered to Hitomaro and slipped out.
Behind the screen Akitada said,“Hitomaro?”
“Yes, sir.” Hitomaro got up andwalked around the screen.
“Any news?” Akitada was proppedon his good elbow and looked wide awake.
“Nothing, sir. It’s been quietas a grave.”
“Not an apt comparison, I hope,”Akitada said dryly and threw back his cover. He was fully dressed under theyoroi which protected his torso and thighs, but the rest of the equipment-shin guards, neck guard, left shoulder plates, and helmet-lay in a corner ofthe room, where he hoped they would stay. “Is there any tea?” he asked, gettingup with some difficulty and sitting down behind his desk.
“I’ll get hot water, sir.”Hitomaro headed out the door, as Tora came in with Captain Takesuke.
Takesuke, in full armor, lightgleaming on the lacquered scales and the round helmet, saluted smartly. Helooked tense and excited. “I just received a report from my reconnaissancetroop, sir.”
“Yes?”
“A force of mounted warriorshas left Takata. Most of their banners have the Uesugi crest, but there arealso some strange banners with dragons and an unknown crest among them. We havecounted at least a hundred and fifty warriors. They are moving slowly, butshould get here in less than two hours.”
“Thank you, Captain. You havedone exceptionally well so far, and I have no doubt that you will hold thetribunal in spite of the lack of fortifications.”
Takesuke flushed and bowedsnappily.
Tora said with a grin, “Thecowardly bastards will turn tail when they see your flags flying over thetribunal, Captain. And if not, we’ll give Uesugi something to think about.”
“Those banners,” Akitada mused.“The dragon is a symbol of imperial power in China. I suppose the judge musthave suggested it to Uesugi as appropriate to the status of a ruler of thenorthern empire. But what is the other crest? Did you get a description,Captain?”
Takesuke handed over a scrap ofpaper. “It’s not very good, I’m afraid. My man was some distance away and it’ssnowing.”