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He meant Prince Atsuhira. His anger was understandable. But would he condone the murder of a beloved daughter?

Neither Kosehira nor Akitada sat down. Akitada now said, “Allow me to express my condolences, Lord Masaie. I, too, have lost a child and know the grief.”

Masaie turned his face toward him. The light caught his features, and now Akitada saw the deep lines of his face. His heart went out to the man. But Masaie surprised him again.

“My daughter was a slut who shamed me and my house,” he snapped. “I welcomed her death. If she killed herself, she only did as she should. If someone did it to her, then let him come to me, and I’ll pay him in gold.”

At this even Kosehira gasped. “Masaie,” he cried, “you should be ashamed. You don’t mean that. You cannot mean it. Please consider-”

Masaie took a threatening step toward him. “Out!” he roared.

They left.

Outside, in the open air, Kosehira stopped and took a deep breath. He glanced back at the house. “Whew,” he said, “that was about as unpleasant as anything I’ve ever experienced.”

Akitada saw Masaie’s son, now armed with a sword, approaching from the direction of the gate. He said, “You may be speaking too soon.”

Minamoto Masanaga was taking big steps, even for such a tall man. He crossed the wide courtyard in no time at all and came to a halt before them. His eyes were fixed on Akitada.

“You!” he said, his manner threatening. “You dare to threaten my family. I know what you’re about, you infernal busybody. You’re in the plot with the rest of them, and you’re trying to pin something on us. You will not succeed. I’ll see to that.” He took a step closer, putting his hand on his sword and leaning into Akitada’s face. “I’ll see you dead, you and your family, for your insolence. Our people have orders to cut you down.”

With that, he flung past them and stalked back to the house. Akitada wiped a trace of spittle from his face. He felt murderous.

“Hmm,” said Kosehira. “He doesn’t like you, I’m afraid.”

“No. He’s afraid. And this little temper tantrum has just proved that he and his father have something to hide.”

Kosehira shook his head. “Well, I don’t see what we can do about it.” He looked at the gate, which was now manned by ten armed Minamoto soldiers, all with their hands on their swords. “Ouch! You don’t suppose they’ll cut us down on our way out, do you? These provincial lords don’t pay much attention to the law.”

Akitada was already walking. “Come, we’ll test it,” he said grimly.

They set their faces and strode forward.

The armed men waited until the last moment, then parted ranks and let them pass. Nobody said a word.

Akitada and Kosehira did not speak until they turned the corner; then Kosehira stopped. “Heavens! That was close.” He clenched his shaking hands. “What do you suppose would have happened if they had cut us down?”

“Do you care what happens after you’re dead? It was very unlikely. I grant you Masaie, and especially his son, were upset, but we’re in the capital, after all. Perhaps they might get away with it in their own fiefdom, but not here. They would have been arrested, tried, and sent into exile.”

Kosehira looked at him. “How can you be so sure? Sometimes you’re incredibly naive, my dear Akitada, You’re still under the impression that justice will be done somehow. Don’t forget, in this case you would be no more. Who would stand up for the victims then?”

Akitada knew Kosehira had a point. The slaughter of two ranking noblemen by the retainers of another would raise eyebrows and perhaps even an outcry, but if political expediency prevailed, Masaie would be briefly exiled and then recalled. It had happened too often in the past.

Kosehira peered up at the sun. “Oh well, time for the midday rice, if you still have an appetite for it. Come to my house and let’s discuss the case over food.”

Akitada accepted. He was hungry, and Kosehira provided elegant repasts and could be trusted to come up with something tasty even when reduced to a skeleton staff.

He was not disappointed. Kosehira had travelled to the capital with his cook, having decided the other services could be performed by the servants left behind to look after his town residence while he served as governor in his province.

They settled down in a pleasant room overlooking a garden with meandering streams, small bridges, pines, and willows in fresh pale leaves. An elderly servant brought some very good wine and bowls of nuts and pickled plums. His manner expressed devotion and concern for his master.

Savoring the wine after the unpleasantness-in retrospect it seemed no more-at the Minamoto house, Akitada decided to find out how things stood with Kosehira. “Do I take it your close connection to the regent has changed your own situation for the better?”

Kosehira grimaced. “Not at all. I had a very uncomfortable meeting with His Excellency and came away cursing such relationships. It’s not enough that I must bear the burden of the unpopularity of my powerful Fujiwara relatives, but they seem to think I owe them something. Kinsue reprimanded me for my correspondence with the prince and warned me they would not protect me if I was found to be involved in the plot.”

“I asked because you seem to be free to go wherever you wish.”

Kosehira refilled their cups and passed the nuts. “Well, at least I’m not under house arrest.”

Akitada ate some nuts and sipped his wine. “Do you think it’s wise to be seen supporting the prince the way you have been doing? Should you not return to your province and wait out the storm?”

Kosehira shook his head. “I’m angry, Akitada. I will not be treated this way. And I will not abandon a friend.” He looked and sounded quite fierce.

It was not an expression Akitada had ever seen on his friend’s cheerful round face. Neither had Kosehira ever expressed anything but happy emotions. Kosehira’s joyful optimism had always been a great pleasure to the frequently troubled and uncertain Akitada. Now it occurred to him for the first time that he might lose him. Political alliances could be very dangerous.

The same servant returned in the company of a young serving girl, both carrying small trays and dishes. Placing a tray before each, they served Akitada and their master with bowls of a clear soup containing bits of vegetables. The soup was delicious.

When they were alone again, Akitada said, “I haven’t made any progress, I’m afraid. What just happened at Masaie’s is exactly the same thing that has happened everywhere else I tried to get information. Even Kobe had nothing new. He objects to our meddling and thinks you’ve behaved very improperly in the matter of Lady Masako’s death.”

“I had no choice. I couldn’t refuse my help to the prince. I think Atsuhira blames me for having kept him that night.” Kosehira put down his bowl. He had sipped less than half of it.

Akitada did not mention that the prince had, in fact, cursed him. It would merely add to his friend’s guilt and worry, and the prince had spoken out of grief. He said, “In any case, Atsuhira will do nothing to help us. He speaks of forsaking the world. If he’s prevented, he says, he’ll kill himself.”

Kosehira nodded, looking glum.

Akitada finished his soup. “What do you make of Masaie’s behavior? And that of his son?”

“Young hothead,” muttered Kosehira. “Masaie surprised me. How can a father hate his own child? It’s unnatural. I was shocked. These provincial lords are rough and violent men, but I never knew they did not care for their own children.”

“Perhaps it was just show. To prove he has reason to hate Prince Atsuhira and cannot therefore be one of his supporters. I don’t know the man at all, so I have no idea if it’s true.”

Kosehira looked thoughtful. “It may be so. He was clearly hoping to make the emperor his son-in-law. You can see how Lady Masako’s willfulness destroyed his dream. Of course, it may also be that he switched allegiance once he realized she had chosen Atsuhira instead.”