“May I assist the gentleman?”
Akitada jumped. “Oh,” he said with a little laugh. “I came in to browse and admire. And perhaps”-he nodded toward the shelf holding dolls in bright clothes-”to buy something for my children.”
The young man, who had an unhealthy color and a pimply face, bowed. “Please allow me to show you what we have.”
Akitada was given a tour of the store with explanations. His admiration for Feng’s collection increased. The young assistant unrolled paintings for him which amazed him with the fine details rendered by the Chinese painters. In one scroll painting of a village, every roof tile and every twig on the bare trees was lovingly drawn. As impressive as such artistic ability and patience was, the scene also showed him life as it was lived in China. He bent closely over the scroll, which the shop assistant unrolled to a considerable length, and saw it took him from the outskirts of a village though its center with a teeming market and out to the last straggling houses before road and river disappeared into hazy mountains.
“This is exquisite,” he said. “It seems the work of a divine being.”
The assistant nodded. “Master Feng ordered it for the last governor. I’m afraid he won’t sell it now.”
This startled Akitada, and he looked up. “But surely someone else may want this. How much would such a painting cost?”
“I don’t really know, sir, but there is a smaller scroll, not quite so detailed, which I could sell you for forty pieces of gold.”
The prices were much too rich for him. Akitada cast one last longing glance at the Chinese village and turned away. While the young man rolled up the precious scroll again, he wandered over to the shelf with the dolls. Surely he could afford two of these. He missed the children, and it would give him pleasure to send them home by the next boat, along with his letter to Tamako. And she should also have a piece of Chinese silk.
The dolls were charming, their bodies made of pale, glazed clay and their chubby childish faces painted with black eyes and tiny rosebud mouths. Their hair was modeled clay, painted a glossy black, but their short bodies were covered with real fabric costumes, sewn from scraps of silk, ramie, or brocade. Several of the girl dolls wore Chinese costumes, and among the boy dolls were a few in elaborate warrior gear, the metal of their armor made of silvered or gilded bits of paper.
He looked at a number of them as the young man hovered by his side. “How charming. Are these made locally?” he asked.
“Yes, sir. Beautiful, aren’t they?”
Akitada took up several more and admired them. Eventually, he said regretfully, “These are lovely, but I think a child would soon destroy such fine work. I have a daughter and a small son. Neither, I think, is old enough for these.” He looked about and saw another batch of dolls at the end of the rack. These were more simply dressed. The fired clay bodies seemed sturdier. He picked up a soldier. “This should do very well,” he started when a very large, very ugly man suddenly appeared at his side.
“Don’t touch!” growled the brute, snatching the doll from his hand and putting it back.
Akitada gaped at him. He was at least a hand’s breadth taller and powerfully built. His face was flat, with small eyes, a broken nose, and fleshy lips. The hand which had grabbed the doll was missing two fingers. This fact and the broken nose suggested he was either a former soldier or a member of a gang of criminals. In either case, a dangerous man.
The shop assistant stepped between them. “It’s all right, Ling,” he said with a nervous laugh. “The gentleman is just looking for a present for his children.” He touched Akitada’s elbow and urged him back to the other dolls. “I’m afraid those dolls are already sold, sir. But we can make you a very good price on two of these.”
Akitada looked back toward the plain dolls and the glowering Chinese. “I’d rather order two dolls like those over there.”
The young man hesitated a moment. “Of course, but it may take a long time. Look,” he said in a wheedling tone, “this charming princess and this ferocious warrior are quite pretty and perfect for a girl and a boy. They are only twenty coppers a piece. Surely a bargain.”
They were a great bargain and very pretty. Akitada agreed and bought both. Then, having saved himself some money, he selected a very pretty piece of pale green silk gauze for his wife. The salesman thanked him profusely and bowed him out of the store.
Akitada left with his parcel under his arm and in a thoughtful mood. The sudden appearance of the threatening giant and the pale young man’s eagerness to be rid of the nosy customer troubled him. Hiring a powerful guard when the store contained so many precious objects was reasonable, but why had the man interfered so rudely with a customer?
It had probably meant nothing, but he thought Master Feng’s business and his employees would bear watching.
10
Akitada was strolling around his little cherry tree and longing for his own garden at home when Saburo appeared silently by his side.
“Good morning, sir. I’m happy to report most of the positions are now filled, and the new and old people seem to be working well together. Possibly the fact I have offered a small award to anyone who reports irregularities encourages them.”
“Thank you, Saburo.” Akitada frowned. “While we’re dealing with unusual circumstances here, I cannot believe spying on your co-workers creates a healthy relationship among the servants. Make sure you relax your rules as soon as possible.”
“Of course, sir.” Saburo came as close to pouting as at any time since he had started working for Akitada.
“I’m not blaming you. I told you myself to watch them.”
“We know they’re thieves, sir. And we don’t know who our enemies are.”
“Quite true, but I’ve been assured they were mistreated by my predecessor. Let’s at least make sure we deal fairly with them.”
Saburo nodded, then turned when he heard steps. Tora came outside, grinning broadly. “Beautiful morning, sir and Saburo,” he called out. “A great day for great deeds.”
Saburo snorted his disgust. Akitada looked at him. “What’s wrong, Saburo?”
The maimed man was immediately contrite. “Forgive me, sir. Ascribe it to frustration. After the long journey confined to a ship, I feel confined again. Tora has something to look forward to, and you had a chance to visit Hakata. I feel useless as a house servant.”
“Oh!”
A brief silence fell, then Akitada said, “Your work here was more important and more urgent. But if you like, you may leave things in Mori’s hands now and ride into Hakata later.”
“Ride?” Saburo looked even unhappier.
“You can’t ride a horse, brother?” Tora asked, astonished.
“Not very well. And I have no assignment.”
Akitada was becoming impatient. At home everything went smoothly, and his retainers and servants knew what their duties were without his worrying about petty jealousies. “We only just got here,” he said sharply. “You will adjust and learn in time where your skills are most useful. Now, Tora, what are your plans?”