“I see.” Akitada sighed. “Inconclusive.”
A silence fell.
“Well,” said Akitada after a while, “talk to Saburo again and tell him what you just told me. Try to enlist his help in identifying the killer. And tell him to come back. We need him. If he cares about the children, he’ll come.”
Tora nodded. “What about Lady Masako? Do you want me to talk to Lord Masaie’s cook again?”
“No. Not yet, anyway. I hope to get the information from her companion.”
The next day, Akitada and his sister set out for the Koryu-ji, a small but venerable temple outside the capital. They were on horseback. Akitada wore his brown hunting coat over blue trousers tucked into boots and his sword. To his relief, Akiko, who loved bright colors, had chosen a dark gray silk gown. She also wore the broad straw hat with a veil worn by upper-class women on journeys to holy places.
As soon as they left the busy city streets behind, Akiko threw back the veil with a laugh.
“Oh, how I love this, Akitada,” she cried. “What a delightful outing! And it’s spring, and the sun shines on us. I’m as free as any young peasant girl to enjoy the day.”
Akitada was not having a delightful time. He had woken to aches and pains over his entire body. There were large bruises in places he had not noticed the day before. Of course, the agony of his shoulder might well have canceled out all other discomforts. His body now exhibited the signs of every impact and scrape of his unfortunate tumble. Sitting in the saddle and bumping along at a trot did nothing to soothe his misery.
His irritation mounting, he said, “We have a serious purpose, Akiko. A young woman has died, a woman younger than you who also desired greater freedom. She, too, rode out from the confines of her life in the city, but she rode to her death.”
Akiko’s face fell. “You always spoil everything.” She urged her horse on and galloped ahead.
Akitada bit his lip against and caught up with her. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I had no right to spoil your day. Please forgive me. I’m still hurting a little, and the story of Lady Masako has affected me more deeply than I thought.”
Akiko slowed down. After a while she said, “Yes, it is a nasty tale. But we cannot know for certain what made her behave that way until we speak to Lady Hiroko. I must say, I was surprised she agreed so quickly to meet us. She sent a messenger last evening and suggested Koryu-ji as a meeting place. Very well chosen, I must say.” She peered ahead where green mountains beckoned.
Most of the temples and monasteries attended by the people of the capital were in the surrounding foothills and mountains. Here and there, slender pagodas rose from among trees and the curved roofs of a temple or villa broke the greenery.
Akitada agreed. “It’s close to the city and a very proper destination for a woman to visit, whether to worship or to meet friends.” He gave his sister a smile. “It must have been your persuasiveness that convinced her to speak to us. I expect the palace has warned her not to discuss Lady Masako.”
“Yes, I think they would have forbidden it. But perhaps she’s just a young and foolish girl who likes attention.”
But Lady Hiroko, though young, was not at all foolish. Her choice of a meeting place should have told them as much.
As soon as Akitada and his sister had dismounted at the temple gate and climbed the steps, they passed into a realm of upper-class propriety.
Being close to the northern part of the capital where the nobility had its palaces, Koryu-ji was a favorite of the good people. Women, in particular, liked to come here, especially when the cherry trees blossomed lacy-white among the dark green trees and the age-darkened halls of the temple. The visitors felt as if they moved among celestial clouds that had descended among these venerable buildings, lending this holy world a brief splendor like a blessing from Buddha himself.
Monks passed among the strolling visitors, mostly well-dressed ladies and noblemen. Sounds of religious services floated in the air: soft tinkling of bells, sonorous chants, the murmurs of sutra readings. It was pleasant and very, very proper.
“I feel devout all of a sudden,” remarked Akiko, looking about. “It’s all so beautiful, so peaceful.”
Akitada said nothing. In his mind, the thought of Lady Masako’s death warred against such contentment.
A young monk approached. When Akitada asked for Lady Hiroko, the monk consulted a list he carried and directed them to the “hall of tranquility.”
They reached this building after a short walk through tree-shaded grounds. The sounds of worshipful humanity receded; there was only birdsong and the rustling of leaves in the breeze. It was cool, and the air was filled with the smell of moist earth and growing things.
The “hall of tranquility” was a very small building of plain dark wood with a roof of cypress. All around the woods enclosed it. A small veranda with a few steps led to the open doors, and in the doorway stood the slender gray figure of a young woman. She was looking up at the sky, but at the sound of their steps, she turned her head.
Akitada bowed, as Akiko called out, “Lady Hiroko? My brother and I have come to pay our respects.”
Lady Hiroko inclined her head and murmured something. She was a very plain young woman with a narrow face that lacked even a trace of make-up. Her hair was cut so short it barely reached her shoulders. The court lady had taken the first steps to becoming a nun.
Akitada felt saddened. True, she was not pretty, and true her chances of finding a husband in the palace were minimal, but it seemed to him a waste when a woman as young as this one forsook the world. He wondered if Akiko had known.
They paused at the steps.
“I am honored, Lord Sugawara and Lady Akiko,” said the novice in a soft, shy voice. She stepped aside and gestured to the inside of the hall. “Please come in. We will be very private here.”
They walked into the single room, dim even on this bright spring day. A few plain cushions lay about and two tapers flickered at their approach. Beneath their feet, above their heads, and on all walls, dark wood enclosed them. Since the doors were the only opening, the room was shadowy and reminiscent of transience and death.
Akitada thought the religious atmosphere along with the young woman’s decision to forsake the world would make the coming conversation awkward.
This apparently had not occurred to his sister, who began in a bright voice, “My brother and I wish to make our condolences on your loss of a beloved friend. For a young woman in your position at court it must have been extremely painful to watch Lady Masako lose her heart to a man who wasn’t His Majesty.”
Lady Hiroko did not answer. She arranged cushions for them and then knelt decorously, raising her eyes only briefly to Akiko’s. They took their seats.
“Come,” said Akiko briskly, “you must take solace. We’ve come to help. As I wrote, my brother and I hope to find the man who killed your friend. I trust when we do her soul may rest at last. It’s been four months already. Think how terrible she must feel.”
Lady Hiroko burst into tears.
Akitada glanced at his sister. “Akiko, please. Clearly, Lady Hiroko feels the death of her friend very strongly. Allow her to say what is in her heart. Then perhaps we may ask some questions.”
Akiko sniffed, gave him a look from narrowed eyes, and fell silent.
Lady Hiroko dabbed at her eyes with a sleeve. “Forgive me. This is very difficult. I would not be here, only there was the dream. She came to me in a dream after Lady Akiko wrote to me. It’s the dream that decided me. You’re quite right, Lady Akiko. I must speak for her and to do so, I must mention things that are forbidden.”
Akitada and his sister held their breaths.