She gave him a huge smile and bowed again. “Thank you,” she said softly. “Genba is very good to me.”
Genba blushed. “It’s the other way around, sir.”
“Have you introduced Ohiro to my wife?”
“Not yet, sir. Should I?”
So there was still some shame. Well, they couldn’t have that. “Come along,” Akitada said briskly and headed for Tamako’s pavilion.
There the introductions went very well indeed, especially when Ohiro showed immediate affection for the children.
Akitada departed for the ministry, feeling content in his world and satisfied with the way he had handled his domestic affairs.
His good mood did not last. He still had to speak to Prince Atsuhira, and that was something he did not look forward to. He left the ministry early and walked to the prince’s palace. There he demanded to see the prince with important news.
The servant returned, saying the master was seeing no one.
Anger seized Akitada. How dare Atsuhira deny him after all he had done for him in the past and more recently. He said “Thank you,” in an icy tone, then walked past the servant and into the house. He knew the way to the prince’s room and strode ahead, followed by the protesting servant. Throwing open the door to the prince’s study, Akitada walked in and slammed it behind him.
“Your man brought your message but I chose to ignore it,” he snapped. “We have some matters to discuss, and when I’m done I hope sincerely I’ll never have to trouble with you again.”
Atsuhira, who looked pale and disheveled, stared up at him from a seat near a brazier. He was leaning on an armrest and had been reading. “I have nothing to say to you,” he said.
“I have some things to say to you, so be quiet and listen.”
Atsuhira opened and closed his mouth as if he were snapping for air but came up with nothing.
“The murder of Lady Masako is solved. Her brother Masanaga found out she was leaving the palace to join you. No doubt, he realized this would mean the end to his own career, particularly since he had already made a bad name for himself. He went to speak to her at the palace, where they quarreled. Lady Masako noted this in her journal. It was her last entry. I think it was then Masanaga decided to kill you. He followed her to your villa, where they quarreled again and he struck her with one of your bo. He probably waited for you to arrive, but you were very late, and she may have regained consciousness. In any case, he panicked. He carried her to the promontory and pushed her over, hoping that her death would be taken for a suicide. Then he left.”
The prince was pale and shuddered. “Masanaga murdered his own sister?”
“Yes. According to her companion, she loved you and looked forward to raising your child. I’m curious. Why did you tell the superintendant that Lady Masako intended to end her life?”
The prince frowned. “I don’t know. I don’t remember. I wasn’t myself.”
“In her journal, she copied down a poem she had sent to you. It read, ‘I dream sweet dreams; but my sleeves are wet with tears. If I take the dark path alone, we will meet in paradise.’ By any chance, is that what you remembered when she was found?”
“Yes. I was trying to account for what she had done.”
“The poem is dated months earlier, at a time when she was distraught over her father’s anger. In other words, there never was any indication that Lady Masako intended to die that night at the villa, was there?”
“Oh.” Atsuhira wept. “No, there wasn’t. Oh, what a relief! Thank you. Thank you for telling me. I have been in agony. I blamed myself.”
Akitada said coldly, “As to that, you will know best what your responsibility was in seducing a young and inexperienced girl who was one of the emperor’s women. Your behavior is inexcusable in my eyes. I had to intercede once before when one of your careless affairs nearly precipitated another succession scandal. Your uncle, the late Bishop Sesshin, asked for my help on that occasion. I had hoped you had learned your lesson then.”
The prince dabbed at his eyes. “I see why you’re so angry at me,” he said. “But you must believe that I truly loved Masako. We couldn’t help ourselves. Our love was stronger than everything. I don’t want to be emperor, but the way my cousin treated Masako angered me. He didn’t deserve her.”
Akitada glared at him. “So you shared your feelings about His Majesty with Kosehira and involved him. I expect you to go to the regent to clear his name, apologize for your behavior, and ask his help in settling the matter of the succession once and for all. You may wish to take vows afterward. Nothing short of becoming a monk will convince people that you don’t want to be emperor.” Without waiting for a response, Akitada turned and walked out.
In the following weeks, life in the Sugawara family settled down. Saburo was once again installed as Akitada’s secretary. Genba and Ohiro moved into their new quarters in the stable, and Ohiro spent a good deal of her time in the kitchen where she attempted to teach Cook new ways to prepare foods. Cook had never been more than passable in her skills, and the household fare was uninspired. Now some very tasty dishes appeared. As a result of this interference, Cook departed in a huff to the secret joy of the members of the household. Ohiro took over her duties.
Not long after this, his friend Kosehira returned to the capital, cleared of all suspicion and eager to celebrate with his friends and supporters. However, in spite of his contentment, Akitada felt restless.
One morning, Tora voiced the reason for Akitada’s dissatisfaction. “You know, sir,” he said, “two people have died violently and nobody got punished. It doesn’t seem right.”
Akitada nodded. “You’re right. It doesn’t. Not that we had any choice in the matter. Bashan, that slippery fellow, left no proof of what he’d done, and Lady Masako’s killer could not be revealed or arrested because it would have involved court matters. But it troubles me also.”
Bashan, or Satake Narimitsu as he was born, disappeared into the northern provinces, and nothing else was heard of him. But Morinaga’s fate became known soon after this conversation. The minister, Fujiwara Kaneie, conveyed the information to Akitada one morning.
“You recall the death of one of His Majesty’s ladies last winter?” he asked.
“Yes. She died of some illness, didn’t she?”
“Yes. A bit odd that. People have been saying she lost a child. The palace, of course, won’t confirm such rumors. However, it’s not the young woman who is being talked about but her brother.”
Akitada became alert. “Minamoto Maseie’s son?”
“Yes. It’s shocking. First the man loses his daughter before she can become a consort of the emperor, and then his only son dies. A hunting accident, apparently. It happened in Sagami, right after Maseie and Masanaga reached their home. Mind you, the young man had a poor reputation while he was here. The regent dismissed him from his post in the guard.” The minister shook his head. “Maseie’s karma must be very bad.”
Akitada nodded. He wondered how Maseie had managed his son’s death, but there would have been many opportunities. The father had avenged the daughter’s murder, but at what cost to himself?
For a moment, he lost himself in imagining the man’s pain and despair, uncomfortable with his own role in bringing it about. Yes, karma explained it very well. Maseie, as well as his children, must have earned these tragedies by having committed evil deeds in their past lives. One must accept one’s fate and strive to earn a better future.
Historical Note
The time of this novel is 1028 in the Heian period and predates the centuries of shoguns and samurai warriors. Though there certainly were wars and warriors, life was more peaceful and orderly than in later centuries. An emperor and a central government controlled the people from the capital city of Heian-Kyo (later Kyoto). Additional provincial administrations along with a well-organized transport system made for a mostly stable government. Most institutions and customs followed those in T’ang China, but the Japanese had long since broken off relations with that nation, and the meritocracy of the Chinese government had made place for promotion by rank and influence.