So possibly, Atsuhira’s wife was behind this. Perhaps her aspirations had suggested the plot. Women could be very fierce when they fought for their families. He wondered if there were children.
Kosehira sighed again and went on. “There was an affair. I knew about it because we corresponded. He was very deeply in love and planned to take the young woman to wife. I suspect Kishi found out. In her anger, she must have made some allegations, and that’s why Atsuhira has been charged. I’m involved because of our correspondence. There you have the whole story. There’s no truth to the conspiracy rumor. It’s all due to the fabrication of a passionate woman with enough power to destroy her husband.”
Akitada digested the information. The prince was an inveterate womanizer and clearly it had got him in trouble again. And once again, there was a letter trail. Though this time, Akitada was too late to fix the problem.
He said, “There must be more to it than that. They would not move against him otherwise. He’s the son of the last emperor. What of his father? Can’t he do something to protect him?”
Kosehira grimaced. “The retired emperor is in ill health and has forsaken the world rather more completely than most. He resides like a hermit in the wilderness of Mount Hiei, hoping for sainthood. Such men have truly abandoned their families.”
“That’s both ridiculous and reprehensible!” snapped Akitada.
His passion brought a slight smile to Kosehira’s drawn face. “Irreverent as always. You know, Akitada, part of your troubles come from the fact that you don’t behave as you ought to. It upsets people.”
“I know. I try to curb my tongue as best I can.” Akitada smiled, then sobered. “What does Atsuhira say? You say you corresponded. Do you recall any comments in his letters to you that could be called treasonous?”
Kosehira did not answer right away. He looked down at his hands folded on his lap. After a long moment, he said, “We would occasionally pass an observation on events. That’s only natural and didn’t mean anything. As for the prince’s reaction to the charges against him, I don’t like betraying a confidence, especially of this kind, but he’s in dire straits and does absolutely nothing to defend himself. Perhaps you can at least advise me how to get through to him.” He gave Akitada a pleading look. “For the past three months he hasn’t answered my letters, and he refuses to see me. His personal servant is frantic. He fears that Atsuhira will take the dark path. He hardly eats and spends hours staring straight ahead with tears pouring down his face. I’m at my wits’ end. I write-no answer. I go to see him-no admittance. I’m turned away from his house like an enemy. I cannot find a single man who was once his friend and will now speak for him or about him. I tell you, Akitada, if it weren’t so infernally dangerous, I would have turned to you long ago.”
“Well, I’m here now. And since the prince’s troubles are also yours, I suppose, they become mine as well. You describe a man who seems to be in mourning. And you mentioned a woman.”
Kosehira nodded. “Very astute of you. Yes. Oh, the affair is still officially a secret, but you’re right. Her death accounts for the fact that he doesn’t seem to care what happens to him.” Kosehira paused in indecision and searched Akitada’s face. Heaving a deep breath, he said, “Perhaps I’ll be forgiven this indiscretion. Atsuhira fell deeply in love with a… er… very highly-placed young woman, and she returned his passion. Apparently, they met secretly in his summer place in the mountains. One day last winter, he got there late and found her gone. She’d left behind her cloak and veiled hat, her box of cosmetics, and her horse.” Kosehira paused to drink some wine.
“Do you mean to tell me that a young gentlewoman rode alone into the mountains to meet her lover? At night? And in winter? I find that somewhat hard to believe.”
“I expect it was still day time. Besides, the lady was unusual. Still, the whole situation is highly reprehensible and very secret. Oh, well, I see I’ll have to be totally frank. Just keep it to yourself. The prince’s beloved was the Lady Masako.”
Akitada’s jaw dropped. Even he, who paid no attention whatsoever to court gossip, knew about Lady Masako, daughter of Minamoto Masaie, lord of Sagami. Her reputation had preceded her to the capital when she arrived to serve the emperor. Her father had raised her like a son. She rode horses and was rumored to wear male clothing. She allegedly had greater skill with bow and arrow or a sword than most men. And she was said to be very beautiful. Her father had intended her to catch the young emperor’s eye. Shocked, Akitada asked, “I recall hearing something about her death.”
“Not the truth. The court suppressed details because of the scandal. They gave out she succumbed to an illness while visiting her aged nurse.”
“What happened?”
“Apparently she threw herself off a cliff near the villa. He found her the next morning. It’s this that has deranged him.”
Akitada frowned. “If he stopped speaking to you, how did you find out?”
Kosehira gave him a fond look. “I was in the capital on provincial business that week. We spent some hours together the very evening it happened and chatted long over wine. That was what made him late that night. I’d never seen him so happy, so excited to see her. The next day, he was a changed man, wild-eyed and shaking, frantic because he didn’t know what to do. I didn’t either, and you were out of town. In the end I went to Kobe. A good man! He handled everything most discreetly.”
This time, astonishment left Akitada speechless. He sat staring at Kosehira, trying to comprehend how a police investigation had been managed without a word getting out.
Kosehira seemed to find nothing remarkable in it, for he continued after tossing down another cup of wine. “Before you get suspicious again, there was never any doubt about it being suicide. She was alone. The old couple, who look after the villa during the winter months, were asleep in their own house, and the prince thinks she was distraught. He told me about her state of mind because I asked him how he found her. She had written him that they could not meet again, and that she could not live without him. They searched for her all night, he and the caretaker. It snowed that night, so it wasn’t until the following morning that he found her. He went to the cliff, half afraid, and looked over. That’s when he saw an odd pile of snow in the creek below and a bit of her blue robe showing. Some animal had disturbed it.” Kosehira shuddered and rubbed a hand over his face. “Horrible! Can you imagine what the poor man must’ve felt? Filled with happiness one day, and losing her the next. What a night he must have spent. And to find her at the bottom of the cliff, all broken.” Kosehira’s voice shook.
Akitada was silent. Yes, it was unimaginable. He thought of Tamako and how he would feel if she killed herself like that, leaving him to find her broken body. No, she would never do that to him. This couple had not been happy lovers before this happened. There must have been a reason for her sudden decision.
He asked, “Is her suicide in some way connected with this charge of conspiracy against His Majesty?”
Kosehira looked surprised. “I don’t see how it could be. She died almost four months ago, long before the present troubles.”
“Perhaps the charges were trumped up in order to punish the prince for seducing one of the emperor’s women and causing her to take her life.”
“Masako wasn’t one of the emperor’s women. His Majesty did not care for her at all. Her reputation of mannishness repelled him.”
“I see.” Akitada pondered this. The story seemed unsatisfactory. “And because the prince is distraught over his lover’s suicide, he refuses to defend himself, and that puts you and others in danger of arrest and punishment?”
Kosehira squirmed uncomfortably. “Well, it may seem that way but, Akitada, you must feel for the man. What an absolutely horrible thing to have happen! It was all I could do to convince him that he wasn’t responsible for her death.”