“I’m sorry to wake you.” Akitada squatted beside him. “How badly are you hurt?”
Tora grinned and whipped back the cover to reveal a thickly bandaged thigh. “Just a flesh wound. Seimei cleaned it and put some stinking salve on it. Feels better already.”
“And the others? Lady Sugawara is worried about smallpox.”
“They’ve just been knocked about a bit. The kid, Kinjiro, saved my life. The old man was locked up without food and water for days, but Seimei says he’ll come around.”
“Good.” Akitada hesitated. “Do you feel like talking now, or would you rather rest first?”
“Now. I’ve got to tell you. You’ll never believe it. That sword the swordsmith Sukenari lost? Matsue had it all along. And a lot of gold and silver besides.” Tora fumbled in his bedding and produced the sword.
Akitada glanced at it and laid it aside. “But what about the murder? Did you find out who killed the blind woman?”
Tora’s face fell. “No. I know who didn’t kill her. I figured it was Kata, but she was his good luck charm and he thinks his business is doomed now.” He gave a dry chuckle. “He may be right. It will be. He’s a gang boss.”
Genba came in and crouched on Tora’s other side. “How are you, brother?” he asked anxiously.
“I’ll do. What happened to your nose?”
“I put it where it didn’t belong.” Genba grinned. “Well, did you have any luck?”
Akitada said, “Apparently not. At least the court is not in session at the moment. The sickness has given us extra time. That reminds me. I’d better explain to my wife about our guests.”
Tamako still hovered in the darkness of the corridor. Akitada closed the door behind him and said, “They don’t have smallpox. Just assorted wounds and bruises.”
“Thank heaven.” She came a little closer. “You are quite sure?”
He was not, could not be certain that they did not have the seeds of the sickness inside them, but he said “yes” as firmly as he could.
“But to bring strangers here in the middle of the night. What can Tora be thinking of?”
“Since Tora has some serious wounds and lost a good deal of blood, I thought I’d ask for explanations later. He says the boy saved his life.”
“Oh.” She brushed a hand across her face, as if sweeping away the fears that had clouded her usual consideration for others. “How badly is he hurt?”
“I imagine he’ll be fine in a day or so.”
“I’m glad. Who are the others?”
“I know nothing about them, but they’re our guests until they can care for themselves. We must honor Tora’s word.”
“Yes.” It was dim in the corridor, but he thought he saw her flush. “Yori is… I’ll get a room ready for them.” She slipped away before he could thank her or wonder what she had started to say.
When Akitada returned to the others, Genba was pressing a smelly poultice to his nose and blinking watery eyes. Akitada grinned and went to look at the two strangers. The old man was asleep, curled up under his covers, and Akitada had to lift the quilt to see his face. He looked sick and fragile and vaguely familiar. The boy, a scrawny creature of twelve or thirteen, was awake and staring up at him.
“I’m Sugawara Akitada,” said Akitada with a smile. “I understand you did Tora a great service.”
“It was nothing. Tora told me about you. He thinks you’re one of the heavenly generals come back to earth.”
Akitada chuckled. “I doubt even Tora would accuse me of that. Do you have a family, Kinjiro?”
“No.” The boy scowled and sat up. “And you might as well know I’ve been working for Kata. Collecting his dues from the merchants every week. Don’t worry. I won’t stay long.” He said it defiantly, as if he expected Akitada would throw him out of the house.
“Kata was running a protection racket,” Tora said helpfully.
“Oh, I see.” Akitada sighed. The boy was a member of a criminal gang. He hoped Tamako would not find out. “I trust you’ve left Kata’s employ.”
Tora said, “He did. He’s a good kid. Couldn’t help himself. His father’s dead and his mother threw him out.”
“I can speak for myself,” muttered Kinjiro.
Akitada looked at his thin body and sharp features. Kinjiro was at the age when a child just begins to want to be a man, and this child had been plunged into the worst kind of adulthood before he was ready. He said a little more warmly, “I’m very sorry for your troubles, Kinjiro. Since Tora vouches for you, you’re welcome here and I will do my best to help you make a better start.”
“He wants to be a scribe like his father,” suggested Tora.
The boy swung around angrily. “I said…” But he did not finish. Instead he turned back to Akitada. “My father taught me to write, sir. I’m not very good yet. I think it would please him if I became what he was. If you could help me find a teacher, I’d work for you for nothing-for the rest of my life.”
Akitada was moved and amused by the offer. “Well, we must try to accommodate you then,” he said with a smile. “Now get some rest.”
Tora looked tired and in pain, but was blessedly alive. Akitada sat beside him and said impulsively, “Thank heaven you’re back with us. I was so worried.”
Tora grinned. “I know. I saw your face when you came in.”
They smiled at each other, while Seimei busied himself with Genba’s nose, and Kinjiro looked away.
“The sword I brought back,” Tora said after a moment. “Will you look at it? I think it’s the Sukenari sword. I wonder why Matsue had it.”
Akitada frowned. “Who’s Matsue?”
“Oh, didn’t I say? He’s the guy we’re looking for. The one that looks like Haseo. Only not up close. He’s Kata’s partner and a master sword fighter. He wounded me, but I cut off his fingers so he won’t ever fight again. He’s a nasty bastard. Enjoys hurting people.” Tora grimaced and rubbed his head.
Akitada stared at him. “You surprise me. I met him tonight. He acted very fierce in spite of his wounded hand, until I mentioned Haseo. Then he panicked. There must be some relationship between them.”
“There is. His real name’s Sangoro. There were papers in his trunk. Sword-fighting certificates mostly, and a couple of other things. He’s got a farm in Tsuzuki district. But I found another paper that had the word ‘Utsunomiya’ on it. I was going to give it to you, but they caught me before I could get home, and Matsue snatched it back. He was livid. Like I’d caught him in some crime or something.”
“They caught you? You mean Kata’s gang?”
Tora nodded. “That snake of a beggar from the market told them I was a spy for the police. When Matsue found his paper on me, I figured it was all over. They meant to kill me. Kinjiro saved my life by helping me get away.”
“You took a terrible and foolish risk.”
Tora nodded. “I know. But I did get the goods on Matsue.” Knowing Tora’s limited reading skills, Akitada wished he had the piece of paper Tora had found. He sighed and looked at the sword. “It seems to be the right sword,” he said doubtfully.
“Look at the tong.”
Akitada unfastened the blade and read Sukenari’s name and the date. He also saw faint traces of blood. “Yes,” he said, “you’re quite right. Sukenari will be very glad to have it back. It needs cleaning.”
“I’ll get some oil in a moment. It’s a very fine blade. Sliced right through Matsue’s sword hand.”
Kinjiro piped up, “You should’ve killed him. Real fighters always fight to the death. Matsue would’ve killed you.”
“If you prevailed against a great swordsman, Tora, then the gods were truly in it,” said Akitada. “I must give them my special thanks.”
The boy said, “You’re very lucky to have a man like Tora, sir.”
“I know.”
“Pah.” Tora looked embarrassed. “It was the spirit in the sword. Besides, he wasn’t such a great swordsman after all to lose to a mere soldier.”
The door opened and Tamako came in, followed by her maid. They carried trays of food and flasks of wine. Akitada jumped up. “Thank you, but we can serve ourselves,” he said, hoping the women would leave quickly.