But the storm abated at last, and dawn came, and with its silver light, a shout from one of the pirates. Tora turned his head and looked around blearily. He saw an island, a mere dark silhouette against the gray of the sea and the paling sky. Beyond, vague shadows might be other islands. A gull circled overhead and gave a shrill cry, and the pirates burst into shouts and happy laughter. They had reached home.
Tora sighed. He doubted he had much to be happy about.
Chapter Twenty
Having made up his mind to make one more attempt at solving the mystery of the girl with the amulet, Akitada walked to the Eguchi post station where he rented a horse and got directions to the River Mansion. On an impulse, he said to the groom, “Do you know anything about the lady who resides there?”
The groom eyed Akitada with an impudent grin. “The lady’s choosy, but it may be your lucky day, sir.”
Akitada flushed with anger but decided to let it pass. He was in a den of iniquity, and one could hardly expect either good morals or good manners from the local people. Still, whoever lived in the River Mansion clearly had a reputation.
The ride was short and pleasant, in spite of the increasing clouds. His mood improved, and he soon found himself at an elaborate blue-tiled gate decorated with golden dragons. Beyond rose trees and more blue-tiled roofs. Birds sang, and through the trees beside the road he could see the green Yodo River.
What sort of person lived in this near-paradisal state? Was it really a lustful princess who scoured the countryside for handsome young men to take into her bed? Akitada smiled. The ludicrous tale was typical of Tora. When it came to sexual exploits or scandalous behavior of the nobility, Tora was very gullible, and this story had both.
He called out, and one wing of the great gate swung open. He rode in under its elaborate roof trimmed with gilded fretwork and found himself in a large courtyard covered with white gravel. Before him stood a lovely building, a smaller version of Chancellor Michinaga’s great Phoenix Hall, though it was by no means so very small, being more than twice the size of the Sugawara residence.
A servant took his horse. Another servant asked his name.
“Sugawara,” said Akitada. “Special investigator for the Minister of the Right. I would like to speak to the majordomo.” He would soon have some answers, he thought. A senior servant could tell him the owner’s name and who was in residence, and he would also know about visits from young women belonging to the Eguchi brothels.
“We have a betto, sir,” the servant said. “Betto Kakuan.”
A monk? How very proper! “Very well, Kakuan, then.”
The servant took him up the wide stairs and into an extraordinary room. The first impression was of color, movement, and ornament. The carved columns and the ceiling were painted and decorated with carvings. The dais had a backdrop of water scenes painted on sliding doors, and deep blue and green brocade cushions lay on its mirror-smooth floor. The other walls, lying in the shadows, displayed paintings on hanging scrolls. It was a noble, even a princely abode. Tora’s imperial princess came to his mind again.
As he waited, he walked around, looking in astonishment at the carvings on the columns and ceiling. These were of water creatures: fish, crabs, cranes, ducks, and gulls, while the paintings on the paper-covered doors depicted scaly fish jumping in waves, a pair of ducks swimming among reeds, koi splashing in a small pond, a pair of cranes grooming their feathers on the shore, and-on the center panel-a gorgeous dragon rising from a stormy sea, all serpentine contortions and writhing scales, grasping talons and snapping jaws. The paintings had been done with consummate artistry, and no doubt had cost a great deal of money. He turned to examine the hanging scrolls, when a woman’s voice asked, “Do you like my little hermitage, my Lord?”
He swung around. A figure materialized from the shadows, a lady, small of stature and enveloped in stiffened silk gowns of peculiar shades of blues and greens. He took her for an apparition at first, so silently had she entered and so odd was her appearance.
A tinkling laugh acknowledged his stupefaction. She glided closer across the floor, a painted fan held to her face. Her eyes seemed unusually large, but when she stood before him, he saw she had outlined them with black paint, and the effect was misleading. He also decided that her movements were ponderous rather than ethereal, and found himself in a quandary.
He had disbelieved Tora’s tale of the aging imperial princess and had doubted some of the other stories. Now he did not know how to address this female. Formalities had not been on his mind. He had come to ask questions of a majordomo or some other senior retainer and not of the owner of the mansion. More disturbing perhaps, she was alone with him. Where were her attendants?
He covered his embarrassment by making her a deep bow. “My name is Sugawara, my Lady. We are not acquainted, I’m afraid. I hope I have not intruded rudely on your seclusion?”
Again that disconcerting tinkling laugh. He thought resentfully that she was too old for it, and wondered again at the colors of her gowns, combinations never seen at court or elsewhere. Those light blues were more commonly worn by men, and here they were combined with greens. All the women he had seen had preferred to use green with rosy reds, or the deeper reds of autumn maples, or-if they were more mature ladies-browns. Then he realized that the diaphanous silks were meant to resemble water. Of course: the River Mansion. The paintings and carvings, and even the appearance of its owner symbolized the watery realm.
She waved a hand toward the dais and its cushions. “Please, let us sit and converse. Company is welcome in my solitude.”
He followed her up to the dais where she extended a hand so he could help her lower herself onto a cushion. Her hand was warm, soft, and rather fleshy and hung on to his heavily as she sat down. He realized that she must be fat under all those stiff gowns. He seated himself on the cushion next to hers and searched for a way to learn her name.
She giggled again. The eyes above the fan twinkled with amusement. “How old are you, my Lord?”
Taken aback, he said, “I’m in my thirty-fifth year, my Lady.”
“Hmm. Not so young any longer. And certainly no longer brimming with vigor either.”
If she was indeed an imperial princess, he could hardly object to her teasing, no matter how rude. He decided to ignore her flirtatious comments and go to the heart of the matter. “I’m investigating a death in this area, and came to ask some questions of your staff. Your servant must have misunderstood.”
The painted moth eyebrows rose. “How dull you are. Here I am, in one of my most fetching costumes, and you ask to speak to my servants. Don’t they teach gentlemen manners these days?”
He bowed. “My deepest apologies, my Lady. Your gracious reception has overwhelmed me.”
She tittered, switched the fan to her left hand and reached out with her right to touch his eyebrow. He managed barely not to flinch away. A wave of perfume enveloped him.
“Such fierce brows. Such a fierce man,” she murmured. “Fierce men have always appealed to the dragon race. Did you know that I have the blood of the dragon kings in me?” The finger traced his cheek and touched his lips.
He could not speak, did not know what to do. The thought flashed across his mind that Tora’s tale had been all too true, and that this female had taken it into her mind to seduce him. Worse, if she was in fact an imperial princess, he knew of no way to refuse her without causing an offense that could cost him his career.