She frowned. “You see? You pay no attention to important news. When an emperor discards one female for another, he can set the entire government on its ears. However, I did pick up one piece of interesting gossip and confirmed everything we had found out so far. Secretary Soga’s daughter Sadako married Minamoto Masakane and disappeared from court at the time of his arrest. Until then, she’d been serving as one of the emperor’s handmaidens, having been chosen for the post after the gosechi dancing. What do you think of that?”
“Are you suggesting that His Majesty was enamored of her, and that this is what caused Masakane to strike him?”
She smiled and nodded. “Ah, you have paid attention. Well, it’s likely that Masakane objected to his new wife finding favor in His Majesty’s eyes.”
Akitada snapped, “That is utterly repulsive. Even emperors should respect other men’s wives.”
Akiko laughed.
“You cannot be suggesting the emperor himself is behind her murder?” her brother protested. “That she was killed because she was an embarrassment?”
“Of course not. Don’t be silly. But if her father had known that the emperor was interested, he could have seen to it that her husband disappeared.”
“Indeed! And so he did!”
Akiko stared at her brother. “The trouble is the story of that attack wasn’t trumped up as a reason to send Masakane into exile. There were witnesses. It really happened.”
Akitada sighed. “You’re right. There was that nun’s robe among her clothes. I thought she had kept it for a pilgrimage, but it seems more likely that Lady Ogata, or Lady Sadako, to use her own name, probably did become a nun when her husband was convicted. It would have been customary and what her father would have wished. But it doesn’t explain the rest of it. Why did she leave the nunnery to live in a shack beside the river?”
“Perhaps she became deranged. From all accounts she loved Masakane madly.”
“Hmm. She didn’t sound deranged from what others said about her. The nun spoke of her deep faith, and Genshin suggested the same thing.”
“Two people who have taken their vows.”
Akitada sighed. “I don’t know how to explain it. And I can’t think. I’m too tired.”
Akiko’s face softened. “Then rest, brother. Maybe I can find out. We’ll solve the mystery tomorrow.” She embraced him and was gone.
Akitada smiled—there were advantages to being wounded—and fell asleep.
32
A Lotus Flower in the Mud
Akitada healed surprisingly fast after this, but he still spent a great deal of time resting and kept standing and walking to the barest minimum. A number of physicians made their appearance, inspected the wounds, and listened to explanations. Most seemed to think his lordship’s survival was due to a miracle, but they agreed that he seemed likely to survive if he did not move too much.
In the end, there was only one doctor left. He was a somewhat rough-looking individual, a warrior in the east in his younger years, and blunt in his speech to the point of rudeness. He stared at the scars a long time, then probed with his fingers, and finally said, “Well, you were lucky.”
Akitada liked him for his plain speech, but he was a little surprised. “Lucky? Surely not. I nearly died.”
“Lucky that only one knife thrust passed through the rib cage. That one fortunately did no serious damage. The other slipped off the shoulder blade and was deflected into the muscles for your arm. And that’s not your sword arm, I think. Lucky again.”
Somewhat irritated that his sufferings were being dismissed as rather minor complaints, Akitada said, “I lost a great deal of blood.”
“Yes,” said the physician, “but no doubt you had some to spare. In any case, you have no need of me. You should get up and start moving about or you’ll end up a cripple from laziness.”
Handing him his fee, Akitada said, “You don’t have much of a bedside manner, you know.”
The other man snorted and picked up his medicine case. “No time for it. I have patients waiting.” And with that he left.
Akitada fell back on his bedding and started to laugh. It hurt, but he felt a great deal better already. It struck him that this man had experience with wounds and was most likely right. He should get up and be about his business.
*
The next day turned out to be rather busy because of visitors. Nakatoshi was the first to arrive. He was overjoyed to find Akitada dressed and sitting up. They shared a cup of wine, and Akitada regaled his friend with the tale of the doctor’s visit.
They laughed together, but Nakatoshi said, “You mustn’t overdo it, you know. People have been known to get up too early only to collapse again.”
Akitada, who had been gritting his teeth against stabs of pain from his back and shoulder, nodded. “I promise to rest frequently, but your visit gives me joy.” He paused. “My family and my friends have given me back my life by their devotion. I have been blessed.”
Nakatoshi was visibly moved and touched Akitada’s hand. “I have some reassuring news,” he said. “In view of your having been at death’s door, several of the most powerful Fujiwaras have been getting nervous. They’ve had prayers said for you in the shrine to your ancestor, and they have cancelled the investigation into your conduct.”
Akitada made a face. “I suppose I should be grateful, but nothing less than an apology and acknowledgment of my service in Kyushu will make me forgive them.”
“I know. It made me angry too, but we must think of the future now that you’re with us again.”
Nakatoshi left soon after to make room for Akitada’s brother-in-law. He brought the same news and a message from Akiko that she hoped soon to have more information about Lady Ogata.
This did not, however, materialize. Lady Akiko was more frustrated than Akitada, who thought of the crane pavilion murder off and on, but without real interest. It seemed clear enough that Lady Ogata was Sadako, the daughter of Soga Ietada and wife of Minamoto Masakane. Her death must be connected to her past. Masakane’s rash act of slapping an emperor had affected not only the young man but also his wife and the people around her.
His next visitor was Fujiwara Kaneie. He came to report with great satisfaction on a change of heart by the grand minister.
“I’m overjoyed to see you up and around,” he said, after congratulating Akitada on having escaped official censure. “My only regret is that I’m still stuck with that infernal Sakanoue who has been acting as if I didn’t exist. In fact, I’ve had to file a complaint against him. He had the nerve to sign some important papers without consulting me.”
Akitada smiled. “I, too, regret that you’re stuck with him.”
“I wish there were some way to get rid of him, but I have thoroughly irritated my powerful cousins by my repeated protestations.”
“I think you have done so on my account, sir. I’m very grateful for your support and friendship.”
Kaneie blushed. “Not at all, my dear Akitada. I’m in your debt. All I know about the law I learned from you.” He sighed. “It’s all been so unfair!”
“Well, I seem to have been forgiven at any rate.”
On this happier note, Kaneie chatted a little about life at the ministry and then took his leave.
Akitada still spent much time resting. Pain radiated over his entire back if he was sitting or standing for any amount of time, and his left arm hurt down to the fingertips every time he moved it. He was also easily tired, but sleep escaped him. Sometimes, as he lay there, waiting for the pain to subside and sleep to come, he thought of the lady of the crane pavilion. Now that they knew her story, they should be able to put a name to her killer.
He wondered if perhaps Lady Sadako’s father had not really rejected her. But if so, why had she left the nunnery and taken up life beside the Kamo River, living on alms? And why had she later hidden herself away in the Takashina mansion?