Too ashamed to tell either Seimei or Tamako, he left on foot. He had lost the right to use Akitada’s property. He stopped at their little house, hoping against hope that Hanae had returned. She had not, and he set out for Uji.
Without money to rent a post horse, he fell into a steady pace walking south on the Nara highway. Night fell quickly, and most travelers on the road were headed for their homes in the capital. He scrutinized each sedan chair he met. Once or twice he got in trouble for lifting a curtain to look inside.
The road was lined with pines, snaked away towards black mountains.
Taking the extraordinary and painful step of leaving his master had been much like cutting off his arm or leg, and his stomach still twisted at it. That bond had been made for life. He had walked away from a debt he could never repay and made a lie of the solemn oath of loyalty. By all the rules he lived by, he was dishonored.
He no longer blamed Akitada. As his master, he had a right to expect unquestioning loyalty and obedience.
Tired and discouraged, he was tempted to lie down under a tree to sleep for a few hours, but his worries about Hanae had increased a hundred-fold. She should have been home a long time ago. He thought again of Sadanori’s reputation and of Hanae’s beauty and popularity. Sending a sedan chair was an unlikely courtesy towards a prospective servant, and Mrs Hamada’s opinion that no wife would tolerate such a beautiful maid or nurse in her household gnawed at him.
At Uji, the mountains loomed ominously above him, and the river rushed through the narrows with a sound like thunder. Tura felt a kind of panic, a fear of real disaster. Oh, Hanae, he thought, why did you run away from me into such danger?
He had hoped to find an inn open to ask for directions, but all the houses were dark. He passed a shrine and walked across the bridge. The sound of the river was deafening, and the rushing waters made the massive timbers shiver beneath his feet.
Tora followed the highway along the river until the mountains fell back and a vast plain opened before him. Here he saw a great complex of buildings. When he reached the gate, a dog inside set up a loud barking. Someone shouted at the animal. Encouraged, Tora struck the bell by the gate with its wooden clapper.
There was more shouting, a yelp, and the dog fell quiet. Then a small window in the gatehouse opened a crack and a disembodied male voice asked impatiently, ‘Yes? What is it?’
‘Is this the villa of Lord Sadanori?’
‘Are you mad? This palace belongs to the regent. I thought you were a messenger from the capital. Go away.’
The window was about to shut, but Tora cried, ‘Wait! Sorry to trouble you so late, but I have to find Lord Sadanori’s villa. I have an urgent message for His Lordship. From his lady. A matter of life and death. Can you at least point me in the right direction?’
The voice grumbled, ‘They shouldn’t send messengers who don’t know the way.’ Then added, ‘Go back across the river. It’s upriver from the shrine. There’s a willow by the gate. You can’t miss it.’ And the window slammed shut.
Tora trotted back the way he had come, followed by more barking and another yelp from the dog. He thought of Trouble, left for Genba to look after. Would Akitada, in his anger, drive the beast out to join the other starving creatures that roamed the streets? In his tired and exhausted state, Tora was unable to achieve the smallest shred of his former optimism. Wifeless and masterless, he would join the mangy dogs scavenging for food in the market, kicked, cursed, and beaten by the more fortunate beings in the world. The image of Hanae intervened – a desperate Hanae fighting off the groping hands and wet lips of a repulsive male in an expensive silk robe.
He found the Sadanori villa quickly after a steep climb, because it perched on a hillside above the river gorge. The wind had picked up and whistled through the pines around him. The house was more modest than a palace, but still substantial for a summer residence. The wealthy loved such places, remote from the bustle of the capital and close to nature. In this mountainous area, the river rushed and gurgled through picturesque gorges. Tora wondered why a man would want to live in a place where the river and the wind made such a din that you could not hear yourself talk.
The faint moonlight played on the swaying branches of the willow by the gate, but the buildings lay darkly under their cedar-bark roofs. Tora suddenly felt, with absolute certainty, that Hanae was not here.
He pounded on the gate anyway, and this time someone came quickly. A faint light glimmered above the tall fence and a voice called out, ‘Just a moment, Master Ishikawa. We’d given you up already.’ Before Tora could reply, the gate opened. A stout, middle-aged man stood there, holding a lantern, a welcoming grin on his broad, bearded face.
The grin changed to a scowl. ‘What do you want?’ the man growled.
Tora was too tired for small talk. ‘I’m looking for my wife, Hanae. Lord Sadanori sent for her, and she hasn’t returned to the capital.’
The servant made a rumbling sound in his throat that Tora took for laughter because the man’s belly shook. ‘You mean you walked all the way from the capital in the middle of the night to fetch your woman home?’ the fat man asked, grinning.
Tora put his hand on his sword. ‘It’s not funny. Send for her this instant.’
The servant stopped grinning. ‘Don’t threaten me. You’ve wasted your time. She’s not here. Go home. Maybe she’ll come back.’
Tora whipped out his sword and put its tip under the bearded man’s chin. The other man backed away, his eyes bulging and his mouth half open in surprise, and Tora followed. When they were well inside the courtyard, he lowered the sword. ‘Now will you do as I say?’
The man gasped, ‘You’re crazy. What do you think you’re doing? If I call for help, they’ll cut you to pieces.’
Tora raised his sword again and bared his teeth. ‘Call then!’
The stout man’s eyes rolled in panic. ‘I tell you, she’s not here. There’s nobody here but Her Ladyship and two maids. Lord Sadanori lives in the capital.’
‘Then my wife’s with your mistress. She came about a job as a nurse.’
‘Nurse? She lied to you. Lord Sadanori’s mother has no need for a nurse.’
Tora stared at him. ‘Only his mother lives here? Is that the truth?’
‘Yes, I swear it. His ladies are in the capital.’
Slowly, Tora lowered his sword. ‘My wife said she was to go to Uji. Lord Sadanori sent a sedan chair for her. Where could she have gone?’
‘Well, she’s not here,’ the servant said resentfully. ‘Now will you go away and leave us alone?’
‘No, I’ve come too far. I’ll have some answers first. And since you don’t seem to have any, I’ll speak to your lady.’
‘You can’t. She doesn’t see strangers, and it’s the middle of the night. She’s asleep.’
‘Go wake her.’ Tora raised his sword.
The servant muttered something, then said, ‘All right. Wait here.’
Tora went to sit on the steps that led to the main hall. He was exhausted and glad that the servant had not put up a fight. Apparently, he was the only male in residence. It was clear that Hanae had been taken somewhere in the capital. The whole story had been a pack of lies. Hanae had been abducted, and he was already too late. Tora clenched his fists in helpless misery.
By the time the servant returned, Tora had worked himself into a fury against the Sadanori family. The fact that Sadanori’s mother was willing to speak to him in the middle of the night did not settle his temper. Seething, he followed the servant along a covered gallery to a pavilion that perched like a bird on a ledge above the rushing and tumbling river. The servant knocked at the door, waited to hear a woman’s voice call out, and entered, Tora on his heels.
The room faced the river gorge. Its doors were wide open to the night air and the sound of the rushing waters. A tall candle flickered in the air current. Lady Sadanori was in her sixties and still very handsome in a haughty way. She sat in the middle of the room, voluminous gowns draped around her. Her long hair was streaked with silver and perfectly tidy, and her large eyes were fixed on her visitor. A maid had apparently put away her bedding and now knelt in the background. Strange shadows moved over walls covered with paintings of the landscape outside.