Akitada glared back. He realized that he was not dealing with a monk but with the blind masseur. “What do you know about such injuries?” he demanded.
“I would call them fortunate accidents. They are common and easily treated, except in cases where the victims have an unreasonable dislike of even a small moment’s pain.”
Akitada hated the man. How dare he speak to him this way? How dare he suggest that he could take no pain? How dare he insult him in this manner? He looked past the shaven head to Tamako, who stood by expectantly and with a smile on her face. Feeling resentful, his eyes returned to the smooth face of the monk. “A moment’s pain? A fortunate accident? Is nothing broken or torn?”
“I don’t think there is any damage. And yes, it will hurt quite a lot for a moment, but after that you’ll feel much better, and soon you’ll not remember the pain at all.”
“Must you pull my arm?”
“Yes.”
Akitada closed his eyes. “Do it then,” he said ungraciously and prepared himself to bear the procedure without making a sound. He’d show them.
The masseur felt around the joint one more time, then reached for Akitada’s wrist and gave his arm a single powerful jerk and a twist.
White-hot agony sliced through Akitada’s shoulder. The effort not to cry out caused him to become absolutely rigid from the soles of his feet to his head. He dimly heard his bones come together with an odd, slippery sound and felt an immediate relief.
“There,” said the masseur. “That should do it. Keep your arm still for a day. I’m told your doctor left some medicine for pain. I’ll only rub on a little ointment. It won’t hurt.”
Akitada opened his eyes slowly. The pain was almost gone, and the relief was overwhelming. The ointment felt pleasantly hot on his skin. He said, “Thank you. Please forgive me for doubting your skill.”
A small smile twitched the masseur’s lips. “It was nothing. As I said, a fortunate accident. I’ll take my leave. Not all my patients are as easy to cure.”
Feeling the implied reprimand, Akitada flushed. “I believe payment is in order,” he said to establish a more proper relationship.
“A piece of silver will do.”
He was not cheap. Akitada eyed the slender figure with the shaven head. The man belonged to the lower classes, perhaps even to the untouchables, but his speech was educated. Though his manner had hardly been proper, he had done his job well and must be paid. “Tamako, please get the money.”
As Tamako paid the masseur, putting the money in his hand and adding her thanks, Tora came back in. He eyed the masseur with interest. “You must be the one who treated a friend of mine. He was attacked and got a bad head wound. You took care of him at the beggars’ temple. His name’s Saburo.”
The masseur cocked his head in Tora’s direction. “It may be so. A friend of yours, you say?”
Akitada said, “Saburo worked for me. If you have treated him, it’s only right that I should pay his debt also.”
The masseur hesitated. “Thank you. But it was nothing. I treat the poor without taking pay.”
“Then I’m sure you can use the money,” Tamako said. “It was a kindness, and we’re grateful.” Tamako pressed another piece of silver into Bashan’s hand.
Bashan bowed, then felt around for his staff. Tora handed it to him, and led him out.
“What an odd character,” muttered Akitada. “I think I’ll change now.” Assisted by Tamako, he struggled out of his wet, torn, and filthy clothes and put on dry ones. His left arm was still fairly useless and somewhat painful, but he found he could tuck it inside his robe where it was adequately supported. He was beginning to feel almost human again and decided to sit down behind his desk. Tamako watched him, smiling to see him so greatly improved.
Suddenly he felt a rush of happiness and gratitude. He had almost died on the mountain. Certainly his attacker had intended him to die. Tears came to his eyes. He was ashamed that he had behaved like a spoiled child.
“I’ve been foolish and careless, and I’ve given you a very hard time,” he told his wife. “Please forgive me.”
Tamako laughed softly. “You were in great pain and protested. It’s what people do when they’re hurt. Oh, Akitada, I’m so happy you’re back.”
The door opened and Tora was back. “Good man, that Bashan. I don’t think I could’ve done as well as you, sir. All that rough handling to pull you up the mountainside, and then the awful shaking on the litter.”
“You saved my life, Tora. You might have fallen yourself.” Akitada paused, frowning. “I thought I heard you talking to me, but I must have been dreaming.”
“It was me. Telling you not to move. You were lying on this very narrow ledge.”
“Good heaven.” Akitada grimaced. In his carelessness, he had risked not only his own life, but also those of Tora and the brave constables. And he had gained little or nothing from his trip. He wondered if he should tell them about the attack and decided against it. No sense in frightening Tamako now that he was safe.
He said, “I’m afraid I haven’t made any progress. There were a few scuffed footprints in one of the rooms, and a thread or two of blue silk and some drops of blood. I’m convinced she was struck with that bo and then dropped off the promontory.”
Tora shuddered. “Who would do such a thing? What if she was still alive when he pushed her over?”
Tamako had turned white. “Oh, how terrible!”
“Yes,” Akitada said heavily. “The killer was very cruel.”
Tamako shook her head, and he extended his good hand to her.
Tora cleared his throat. “Well, I’ve some chores to do,” he muttered and left quickly.
Akitada pulled Tamako down beside him, put his good arm around her, and kissed her hungrily. He was incredibly happy to be alive.
But the door flew open again, and Akiko rushed in. “There you are, Brother. Thank heaven you’re all right.” She took in the scene. “You can do that later. I think I’ve solved your case. Just wait till you hear.”
The Novice
Akitada released his wife. He was touched. His sister had never shown much fondness for him in the past. “Thank you, Akiko. I’m quite well on the whole. Just a little bruised from the fall.”
“There, you see, Tamako? He’s taken a tumble, that’s all.”
Tamako shook her head. “He might have died,” she said. “Or been more badly injured. He fell quite far. They had to transport him on a litter.”
Akiko stared at her brother. “You mean someone really tried to kill you?”
“Nothing so dramatic. I slipped and fell, that’s all.”
“Clumsy of you,” his sister remarked.
Akitada smiled and nodded.
Tamako made an impatient gesture. “Well, there was that warning. I really wish Akitada hadn’t got himself involved in Prince Atsuhira’s problems again. It’s dangerous and has already caused nothing but trouble.”
“What warning?” Akitada asked.
Tamako explained about the note tied to the rock. “And you hadn’t come home. You really must be more careful in the future.”
Akiko would have none of it. “Oh, come on! You make it sound as if there were assassins lurking around every corner. As you see, Akitada’s quite capable of falling down mountains on his own. Anyway, I’ve found Lady Masako’s companion, Akitada. I sent her a note and got an answer. What do you think of that?”
The news about the threat troubled Akitada, but now he brightened. “You did? Good work, sister. What does she say?”
“She’s a Lady Hiroko, and she’ll meet me tomorrow. We must put our heads together to see what questions I should ask her.”
Akitada smiled and shook his head. “Thanks, but I think I’d better handle that.”
His sister stiffened and raised her chin. “Oh, no, you don’t. Not after all the work I did.”
Akitada exchanged a glance with his wife. “Akiko,” he said reasonably, “It is my case. Besides, it isn’t at all suitable for such matters to be handled by women.”