Akitada regained consciousness in his own room. Dimly aware of discomfort, he opened his eyes on the familiar rafters of his ceiling, shadowy in lamplight. He easily deduced that it was nighttime and that he was stretched out on his own bedding, a fact further proven by the familiar feel of the hard headrest supporting his head.
Someone was talking softly.
He turned his head and immediately felt a sharp stab of pain run from his head to his shoulder. To his astonishment his small room seemed full of people. They sat around the oil lamp, their backs toward him, except for Seimei, who faced in his direction. It was he who was doing most of the talking while rummaging in his medicine case, holding up from time to time a jar or package to show to one of the others. Belatedly Akitada put names to the broad-shouldered backs: Genba, Hitomaro and Tora. Genba was the one who carried on the conversation with Seimei. The other two watched but said nothing.
Akitada croaked, cleared his throat, and tried again. "What are you doing?"
Immediately four anxious faces turned his way. Seimei and Tora got up to sit beside him.
"How are you feeling, sir?" Seimei asked, peering sympathetically down at him.
Akitada frowned and checked how he felt. His legs and arms seemed to behave normally. The skin on his face felt sore and tight, and his neck and shoulder still pained him at the slightest move. However, that discomfort was minor compared to the fact that his whole torso appeared to be paralyzed. He could not move his spine, and breathing was restricted and painful.
"I cannot move. What happened?" he asked, as a hazy memory joined panic. "Something fell on me, I think."
Tora answered. "You were attacked on the way home. By paid assassins, two of them, with knives."
"I have been stabbed?"
Seimei said, "No, no. Nothing like that. Hitomaro here got to you just in time. You only suffered a few cracked ribs when one of the brutes jumped on you out of the tree."
Akitada thought about his ribs and touched them gingerly. He felt absolutely nothing. "An overly optimistic diagnosis, old friend," he said grimly, panic tightening like a vise about his heart. "I'm afraid I am paralyzed."
To Akitada's hurt surprise, Seimei turned to grin at Genba who grinned back, then rose and joined them. He poked an exploratory forefinger into various places on Akitada's upper body. There was still no sensation. Akitada closed his eyes to hide his terror.
"I had to wrap your rib cage very tightly to keep the bones in place," boomed Genba's voice into his ears. "They should heal just fine, provided you avoid too much movement."
The relief was overwhelming. Akitada said weakly, "Oh!" and opened his eyes again. He thought. There had been something else he needed to ask. "But how did I get here? And what is this about Hitomaro?" He craned his neck, risking another jolt of pain, to look for the burly swordsman.
Tora told him, "It was a lucky thing Hitomaro did not trust that snake Okura and went back to follow you. Come over here, Hito, and tell him what you did."
Hitomaro crept up reluctantly. "I'm sorry I disobeyed you, sir," he muttered, his eyes lowered, "but glad I could be of service."
"What happened?"
"I caught up with you on Omiya Avenue, between the corner and the first palace gate where the paulownia trees hang over the walls of the palace. They were lying in wait for you, one in the tree above you, the other on the wall. When the first one dropped down on you, the other jumped from the wall with a knife. Only by then I was there and made short work of them."
Tora cried, "Beautiful work, brother! Couldn't have done better myself."
"Heavens," said Akitada weakly. "You saved my life. Who were they?"
Hitomaro hung his head even lower. "I'm afraid I had to kill them, sir. There was so little time. But I'm sure Okura was behind this. It occurred to me that if a man promises such rewards, he doesn't expect to be called to account." He gave Akitada an earnest look and added, "If the dead thugs cause any problems for you, sir, I am prepared to turn myself in."
Akitada could guess what such a promise would mean to him. "Nonsense!" he said. "I won't allow it. It seems I owe you an apology. I am sorry for the way I treated you. What happened to the bodies?"
"I had to leave them there and carry you back."
"If they are known criminals, chances are we won't hear any more about it. However, I am deeply indebted to you, my friend, especially since you tried to warn me. Facing two armed assassins single handedly was a very brave thing to do."
Hitomaro grinned. "Not at all, sir. They were not trained fighters, and I had my sword."
Akitada said, "You seem to have a remarkable understanding of human nature, Hitomaro. You were quite right to warn me, and I was careless. It was highly unlikely that Okura would let me live, let alone pay off so handsomely. I owe you my life and must find a way to repay you. We have very little money, but perhaps there is some other service I can do for you. Feel free to ask for anything that may be of use to you."
Hitomaro shook his head, but he exchanged a glance with Genba.
"Come," said Akitada, "I see there is something. What is it?"
Hitomaro said shyly, "You owe me nothing, sir. I was in your service at the time. But if it would make you feel better, Genba and I have been very happy here. We would be grateful if you allowed us to serve you in the future."
Fleetingly Akitada thought of the family finances. Well, he must find a way somehow. "Of course. But I cannot pay either of you what you deserve."
Genba cried, "We want no pay. You see, sir, you're not getting a bargain. We have both committed crimes."
Akitada winced and closed his eyes. "Not murder?" he asked weakly.
"Murder," they said in unison.
"But they had no choice," cried Tora.
"Really, sir," remarked Seimei, "if you heard their stories, you might understand. Remember, though a man wear rags, his heart may be brocade. And even Master Confucius had his troubles."
Akitada grimaced. "I see it's a conspiracy. Very well. Tell me about it."
Genba said, "Thank you, sir," bowing deeply. "My complete name is Ishida Genba. I am a wrestling master by profession, just as my father before me. Our school was in Nagato province, and one day the governor watched one of our exhibition bouts and promptly sent his oldest son to me for instruction. The boy was a weakling and resented me bitterly. We quarreled and he tried every way to blacken my name. One day he threatened to tell his father a particularly nasty lie about me. During the subsequent lesson we engaged in a practice bout. There was an accident and he broke his neck." Genba heaved a deep sigh and shook his head.
Akitada looked at him with sympathy. "Accidents will happen in your profession," he said. "If you give me your word that you did not intend to kill the boy, I am satisfied."
Genba looked at him bleakly. "Of course I did not intend to kill him. That would have been dishonorable and made me unfit to teach the sport. He insisted on trying out a dangerous move because he was angry. I had my arm around his neck when he suddenly flipped backwards. His neck snapped. But that is not the death I meant. I was arrested and killed two men in jail."
"What?"
"The night before my trial the governor sent two guards to my cell to strangle me. I killed them both and escaped."
Akitada was silent with shock for a moment. He did not doubt for a moment that the governor had meant to take revenge for his son's death. Genba would certainly have been cleared of the charge of murder. He said, "I am sorry for your misfortune. You have already paid a heavy price for what was apparently due to a spoiled boy's carelessness. I am inclined to give you the chance to prove your innocence by your future actions, but what if someone recognizes you?"
"Nagato is far from here, sir, and since I left, the governor has died. Besides I'm greatly changed in appearance."
"Very well then."
Tora and Seimei burst into relieved laughter and slapped Genba on the back. The wrestler bowed deeply and thanked Akitada with tears in his eyes.
Akitada looked at Hitomaro.
"I cannot claim either accident or self-defense, sir," the burly man said bluntly. "I meant to kill the man and went after him knowing that he was no match for my sword."
Akitada raised his brows. "A drunken brawl?"
"No. I was cold sober. And I would do it again." He met Akitada's astonishment with fierce determination.
"You are brutally honest," Akitada said. "Surely there were some extenuating facts. Were you very young?"
When Hitomaro shook his head, Tora urged, "Tell him the reason."
Hitomaro heaved a deep breath. "I have no intention of ever using it again," he said, "but my family name was Takahashi. My people are from Izumo province."
Akitada was startled. He had heard of the Takahashis. They were an old, respected military family who had come down in the world.
"Ten years ago my father, my grandparents, and all my brothers and sisters died in a smallpox epidemic. That left only my mother and myself. I took a wife to carry on the family name." Hitomaro lowered his head and stared down at his clenched fists. "My wife Michiko was very young," he murmured. "She was also very beautiful, and I…"He bit his lips. "The son of a neighbor, a powerful family with many manors and hundreds of retainers, saw Michiko and made advances. She told me about it, and I went to warn him off. He was a haughty sort of man and there were words. No, I did not lay a hand on him then. That came later."
Again he paused to stare at his hands. His face worked as if he had to force the rest of the story out by sheer willpower. "I had to leave home for a few days on business. When I came back, my mother greeted me with the news that my wife had hanged herself. She had been only seventeen and expected our first child. Michiko left me a letter explaining that our neighbor had raped her, and she could not live with the shame she had brought to our family."
The room had become very still. Hitomaro's eyes left his hands and wandered to the ceiling.
"That's when I went and killed him," he said calmly. "My mother and I had to flee after that. She died the following winter in the mountains from cold and lack of comfort." Looking at Akitada, he said bitterly, "I have nothing left to live for. A man in my position, whose only skill is in his sword, is always prone to being used for other men's violent purposes. It is for that reason that I wish to serve you rather than selling my fighting skills to the highest bidder."
Overcome with emotion, Akitada could not speak right away. A look of disappointment settled in Hitomaro's face, and he said, "Well, never mind! I know I'm too much of a liability."
Akitada said quickly, "On the contrary. I am honored by your confidence. Forgive me for not speaking right away. Your story has touched me profoundly. I, too, have a wife now."
Hitomaro smiled and nodded his understanding.
"I do not blame you for your actions," said Akitada, "but there is the problem of your rank. It puts you above the status of a hired man. If it pleases you, I should be honored if you were to remain with us as our guest."
"No." Hitomaro got up. "I have neither rank nor family name. I shall serve you like Genba and Tora, or not at all."
Akitada met the fierce eyes and nodded. "As you wish."
Another round of backslapping ensued. Tora cried, "See, brothers! I told you my master is a fair man!"
"Thank you, Tora," said Akitada. "But now I wish to sleep. I shall see you all in the morning."
Tora and the two new retainers left quickly, but Seimei made no move to follow, busying himself instead with his medicine box.
"Leave it till morning," Akitada called out impatiently.
"But I cannot leave you alone, sir. You might need something."
"I need nothing but sleep. Go!"
Seimei looked mutinous, but seeing his master's expression, he obeyed.
As soon as his steps had receded outside, Akitada began the complicated business of getting up. It took several minutes and he was drenched in perspiration when he finally stood on his feet. Another minute was required to pick up a cotton gown to cover his bandaged nakedness and then he pushed the screen door open to the veranda.
The storm was long past, but it had left the garden rain-drenched. Above, the night skies had cleared. Stars blinked and a nearly full moon turned the garden into a glistening image of silver-inlaid black lacquer. Akitada walked softly on bare feet through the moisture-laden, rose-scented night to Tamako's room.
Akitada did not leave his house for a week due to setbacks in the healing of his broken ribs. Genba expressed surprise that he had to repeat the wrapping process several times. Akitada, gritting his teeth against the pain, muttered, "I'm afraid I'm a very restless sleeper."
During his convalescence, a number of events took place. Bishop Sesshin made a brief visit to inquire into Akitada's state of health and to take young Lord Minamoto back to the family mansion. Sesshin told Akitada that he had appointed two legal scholars to fill the positions of Hirata and Akitada, and that Fujiwara had been given Oe's rank as eminent Chinese scholar. Sato had received special permission to accept private students, and his wife had already performed at two noble houses and was becoming quite popular.
Next Kobe stopped by to report that Kurata's trial was over and he had been condemned to hard labor on the island of Tsukushi. "Draining swamps," said Kobe with great satisfaction. "I doubt he'll survive the year."
"What about Okura?" asked Akitada.
Another grimace. "The bastard keeps petitioning the court. No telling when we'll get a trial."
The third event was the most private and most important. Tamako became officially Akitada's wife and the junior Lady Sugawara. This brought with it a surprise for Akitada. When he went to his mother to inform her of the event and to request the preparation of the special rice cakes, customarily presented to the newlywed couple on the morning of their third night together, she caused him a moment of acute embarrassment by pointing to an elegant footed lacquer tray which was covered with a square of precious embroidered silk.
"They have been ready since last night," she said, smiling a little at his discomfiture. "I had it on good authority that your injuries did not stop you from doing your duty. It was most gratifying news."
Lady Sugawara's approval of the marriage was not entirely unexpected. Akitada had discovered that Tamako seemed to have a special touch when it came to handling his mother. In fact, every day he spent with his new wife brought a new wonder to him, who had never been close to anyone before. Tamako was an indispensable companion in his convalescence, and he fell imperceptibly into the habit of sharing even his innermost feelings and thoughts with her.
But this blissful time, of course, could not last forever. Akitada had to return to his work at the ministry. The rainy season had started with the storm of the night of his attack. It was on a particularly drizzly morning in a series of wet days, that Akitada told Seimei to lay out his official robe and hat. He and Tamako had spent the previous evening looking out at the lush wet growth in the garden as he told her of his intention to face the minister the following day. He had been frank about their precarious financial condition, his past difficulties with his superiors and slim chances for promotion, and of his own impatience with the dull paperwork. As always she had been supportive and reassuring. This morning he was in a much better frame of mind and approached the inevitable with resolution.
Ironically, a series of unforeseen events almost immediately began to change his plans.
First Kobe arrived, his official robe rain-spattered and his face full of barely contained excitement.
"You'll never guess what happened!" he cried, sitting down on a cushion and accepting a cup of tea from Seimei. He took a big mouthful, immediately gagged, and spit it back into the cup. "Are you trying to poison me?" he roared. "What is that nasty bitter stuff?"
"Tea," said Akitada.
"Phew! Don't you have wine?"
Seimei muttered something about tea being good for the belly in such wet weather, but went to fetch some wine.
"Well, what happened?" asked Akitada.
"Okura hanged himself. The guard found him this morning."
"I thought he had hopes of support from his powerful friends."
"Hah! He had visitors yesterday. They didn't give their names, but you could tell their rank by their cap colors. One third rank and two fourths. He knew them all right. I don't know what was said- they made me stay outside- but their faces were the grimmest I've ever seen. Okura was limp as a rag after they left. By the way, do you wish to press charges against Ishikawa?"
"Good heavens! Are you still holding him?"
Kobe grinned and emptied his cup of wine. "Of course. Jail has improved his manners greatly."
Akitada smiled also. "Good. Let him go now. He has been punished enough by losing any chance for a degree. Fortunately he is bright. He can get a living as a provincial teacher. They need good ones."
Kobe nodded. "As long as I don't have to see the insolent puppy again. Well, I'll be on my way then. "They both rose. Kobe bowed, saying, "I suppose you will return to your former duties soon and trust they will be less exciting than your recent activities."
"Thank you, Captain." Akitada suppressed a sigh at the thought, though it had probably only been a hint to stay out of Kobe 's business in the future.
He watched Kobe walk away through the drizzle, thinking about those hated duties in the archives of the ministry.
Then he squared his shoulders and returned to his room to set up the mirror and put on his formal hat. At that moment, Seimei stuck in his head. "Good, you are dressed. Come to the main hall. His Reverence, Bishop Sesshin, and young Lord Minamoto have called."
Seimei certainly knew his protocol for formal visits by high-ranking individuals. Wondering what had brought both of them out on such a wet day, Akitada rushed across via the covered gallery, noting with irritation that the roof had sprung more leaks. Skirting the puddles, he stepped into the main hall of his house.
Sesshin and the boy were seated on brocade cushions, somewhat faded and threadbare, but passable in the gray light of the rainy day. His guests were quite dry and unexpectedly resplendent in their silk gowns. Akitada bowed, still painfully, though Genba had only that morning loosened the bandages for the first time.
Sesshin said immediately, "Please do not strain yourself, my dear fellow! How are you coming along?"
"Much better, thank you." Akitada seated himself gingerly on the third cushion, while Seimei poured tea and served sweet rice cakes. When his guests had helped themselves and Seimei had withdrawn again, Akitada said, "Actually, you see me in my formal robe for the first time today. It is time to return to my duties at the ministry."
"Oh," cried young Minamoto, "but surely you must take a longer rest, sir. It has only been a few days."
"Ahem!" The bishop gave the youngster an admonishing glance, then said, "My young charge is overeager to speak his mind, but I think there cannot be much harm in a brief delay. I trust you will take at least another day to consider your future." He regarded Akitada benevolently, his broadly smiling face and round shape disconcertingly reminiscent of the fat, jolly god of happiness. "In fact," he said, "one of the reasons we came today is to extend our best wishes to you and your new lady."
Akitada was touched. "Thank you both," he said, and turned to the boy. "Sadamu, I believe you have met Tamako, haven't you?"
"Oh, yes," grinned the boy. "I quite approve, you know."
Sesshin chuckled, and Akitada said, "I am deeply gratified."
The boy nodded solemnly. "She was very nice to me," he said. "We talked about death, my grandfather's and her father's. What she said made me feel much better. I think she has much wisdom for a woman."
"Ahem!" Sesshin cleared his throat again.
This time the boy blushed. "I beg your pardon," he murmured. Reaching for a small, beautifully decorated lacquer box which rested beside him, he pushed it across to Akitada. "It is the reward you have earned," he said and then glanced at Sesshin, who gave an encouraging nod. Sitting up a bit straighter, Sadamu looked earnestly at Akitada and announced, "Your loyalty to me and my family in our distress and your cleverness in seeing through Lord Sakanoue's plot have put me and my family deeply into your debt. I wish to make formal acknowledgment of the great service you have done. The Minamotos will be forever in your debt, and I shall see to it that the fact is recorded for posterity." He bowed with great dignity.
Akitada did not know what to say, so he also bowed deeply. "Thank you, my lord. I am deeply honored by your words, and shall treasure your gift."
The boy gave a sigh of relief and smiled. Then he reached into his sleeve and pulled out a small narrow object, wrapped lopsidedly but with great care in a square of brocade and tied with a gold cord. This he handed to Akitada, saying, "Please accept this worthless trifle on my own behalf."
Akitada was deeply touched. He said with a smile, "There was no need whatsoever for all this, Sadamu. I was merely lucky." He looked down at the small package dubiously.
"Well, open it!" the boy cried.
Akitada undid the many knots with some difficulty and unrolled the beautiful piece of fabric to reveal a flute. It was a lovely instrument, old and clearly made by a fine craftsman, though it was quite plain. He looked up in delighted astonishment. "A flute?"
The boy's face was alight with pleasure. "Do you like it? Is it the right thing? You told me once that you wished you could learn to play the flute, do you remember? Well, now you can!"
"Oh, my dear young friend, it is the most perfect present," cried Akitada, fingering the instrument and wishing he could try it out. "I had forgotten, but you are quite right. It will give me enormous pleasure. Thank you very much." He was tempted to raise it to his lips then and there, but confined himself to admiring its workmanship. Finally he put it back into its wrapping and placed it aside. "I trust you are comfortably settled by now?" he asked.
"Oh, yes." The boy exchanged a glance with the bishop, and explained, "My great-uncle is to be my guardian until I come of age. He has taken up his residence in our mansion to be near me and supervise my studies. But His Majesty has graciously confirmed me as head of my clan, so I have a great deal of work to do every day before I can get to my books."
"Ah," said Akitada, bowing deeply to him, "then I am indeed honored by your visit, my lord." This boy had suddenly become a very rich and powerful man. He recalled the youngster's sense of responsibility for his people and was glad.
Sesshin chuckled. "He is young, but he shows promise," he said, deflating the boy's pride a little. Then his face abruptly turned serious. "We have also some other news and a confidence to share with you. I followed your suggestions about Rashomon and, finding by good fortune a poor woman who had some information, was able to locate my brother's remains. They have been put to rest very quietly on his ancestral estate in the country."
Akitada glanced at the boy who met his eyes calmly. "I am very sorry for what happened to your grandfather," he told him. "It must be just about time for the forty-nine days to be up. I hope his spirit is at rest now."
The young lord nodded. "Yesterday," he said, his voice catching a little, "we held a service in the mansion. It was just for the family and a few servants. I was afraid that you were still too ill to attend. Kinsue and his wife, you know, were terribly worried about grandfather's spirit not finding a path into the next life when the waiting period was up. They seemed much relieved. Afterwards Kinsue took me to the old tree in grandfather's courtyard and showed me that it had put forth new leaves. He said it was a sign that grandfather has entered his new life."
Akitada thought that it was more likely that the rain had saved the old tree, but he felt again that slight shiver at the back of his neck, as if a cold finger had barely brushed his skin.
Sesshin cleared his throat. "We wish to take you into our confidence on the matter of the miracle," he said. "When I informed His Majesty about our suspicions, he immediately consulted with the chancellor and his closest advisers, and it was considered best not to destroy the people's faith in the Buddha or the reputation of the temple. Sadamu and I concur completely with His Majesty's decision."
Akitada bowed. "The wisdom of our august ruler is inspiring. You honor me with this confidence."
The bishop nodded. "I have also had some news of Lord Sakanoue. His Majesty has seen fit to appoint him 'Subduing Rebels Official' and has dispatched him to the northern frontier. There has been some particularly fierce fighting there lately. Lord Sakanoue has expressed his gratitude for being allowed to die for his country."
"Pah," said the boy. "He's a coward."
Sesshin frowned and moved smoothly to a discussion of general conditions in the north country. Akitada listened politely, wondering how long the bishop would dwell on the subject.
"The chancellor was mentioning to me just the other day that it is nearly impossible to keep good officials for any length in provinces like Noto, Echigo, Iwashiro and Uzen," he said, looking earnestly at Akitada. "The distance from the capital, the cold, the troubles with the local aristocracy all seem to drive the appointed governors and other officials to absent themselves from their headquarters for long periods of time."
More puzzled than ever, Akitada tried to look interested.
"Echigo, for example, has been without a resident governor for a number of years. Can you imagine? No senior official at all to represent the government?"
"None at all?" Akitada's real concern was stirred. He recalled vividly the problems which even a good governor had encountered in Kazusa, a province which was not nearly as far from the capital as Echigo. "Could not His Majesty replace inadequate administrators with more suitable persons? Echigo is a rich province. To leave such a significant source of income for the nation to the mercies of local interests seems a dangerous policy." He gulped. "I beg your pardon. I did not mean to criticize His Majesty, of course. Only there must be any number of good people who would gladly undertake such an assignment. The challenge alone must outweigh the lack of comforts, and the distance from the capital is easily balanced by seeing new places and learning new things. I remember when I was sent to Kazusa some of my friends thought this a punitive assignment, but I was jubilant…" Akitada broke off in some confusion. When no one commented, he flushed with embarrassment. "I beg your pardon, Your Reverence," he murmured.
He risked a glance at Sesshin's face. The old monk was smiling benignly and nodding his head. "I am very glad to hear you say so. It is understandable that His Majesty's august rule should not always be understood by the people in distant places where the civilizing forces of the capital can only be transmitted by His Majesty's appointed representatives. Sadly, unlike you, too few of our young men are willing to accept such assignments, even if they have a more enlightened idea of the conditions there than their elders."
Akitada's heart had started beating more rapidly. Surely Sesshin was speaking in a very pointed manner. He glanced at the boy and saw that he was watching him expectantly. Looking back at Sesshin, Akitada said, "I am certain the emperor can find many able persons eager to exchange the stodgy routine of their duties in one of the bureaus and ministries for the excitement of travel and the freedom to improve conditions in one of our provinces."
"Ah," said Sesshin, smiling more widely and nodding. "Perhaps one or two. At any rate, that is what I told the chancellor when he expressed his worries about affairs in Echigo." He glanced out at the cloudy sky. "But the rain is letting up and we must not keep you any longer. It was a very pleasant visit. Please compliment your servant on the excellent tea and cakes."
His heart still pounding exultantly, Akitada expressed his gratitude for the visit, the box and the flute and, inwardly, the glorious new hope he hardly dared to acknowledge to himself. He accompanied his illustrious visitors to their carriage and watched them leave in a bemused trance.
Back in his room, he bent to pick up the box and flute to place them on a shelf. The box seemed astonishingly heavy. He opened it and saw with consternation that it was filled with gold bars. His reward, the boy had said. There must be more than three years worth of salary here, enough to mend the roof and pay the wages and costs of his newly increased household, and still leave something in reserve.
Filled with the joy of it, he went to tell his wife. But the little maid informed him that her mistress had gone to her former home as soon as the rain had eased a little. Akitada felt a sudden concern for her safety and peace of mind and decided to follow her.
The sky was clearing partially, and he risked going without his straw raincoat. Walking as quickly as the many steaming puddles permitted, he crossed the town, worried how he would find her on this, her first visit to the place of the tragedy which had taken both her father and her childhood home from her.
Although he had sent workers to clear away the large debris, the grounds looked dismal after the rain. There was bare black mud where the house had once stood, and charred trees clawed with naked, twisted fingers towards the skies. All the lush flowers and shrubs had shrivelled into sodden clumps of brown decay. Tamako's garden had died as surely as had her father and her past life.
She stood, huddled in a straw cloak, near the wisteria vine, looking up at its bare twisted remnants clinging to the old trellis. It was leafless now, but miraculously he had found there that single bloom he had sent her after their first night together. That she should have come to this spot cheered him. He called out to her.
She turned, hiding muddy hands under the rain cape, and he saw that the dark silk gown she still wore in mourning for her father was streaked with dirt along the hem and there was a smudge of mud near her nose where she had brushed back an errant tress of hair. But she smiled at him, and his heart melted with tenderness.
"What brought you here?" she asked, coming quickly to him.
"I was worried about you." He gestured at the desolate garden. "It still looks very sad, but in time it will be better."
"Oh? Will you keep it then?" she asked, her eyes growing wide with excitement.
"Of course. It is your home and your garden. I thought we might just rebuild a small summer house to start with, and perhaps quarters for a gardener to take care of the place."
"Oh, not a gardener," she cried. "I'll do that. Oh, thank you, Akitada!" Her face fell. "But the money? Can we afford it?"
He was secretly pleased about that "we." "Of course," he said. "Let me tell you my news. I had several visitors this morning. Captain Kobe stopped by first, and then we were honored by the bishop and young Lord Minamoto- who is now head of his clan so I must learn to address him as 'my lord' again."
She smiled. "He is a very nice boy. What news did the captain bring?"
"Okura hanged himself."
She looked down at her hands, which had crept from the folds of her gown and were now tightly clenched. "I am glad he killed himself," she said slowly. "Father would not have wished to be responsible for another human being's execution." Then she looked back up with a smile. "I suppose Bishop Sesshin and the young lord came to thank you for your help?"
"Yes, most generously. I had really not taken the boy seriously." He told her about the gold, happy in her delight in the sudden wealth. "Of course, they also expressed their best wishes on our marriage," he continued. Pausing, he added, more diffidently, "There was some other, rather puzzling talk about the lack of able administrators in the far north. It made me wonder."
Tamako's eyes widened. "What did the bishop say?"
Akitada told her what he could recall, watching her face as he spoke. She was still smiling, but with a certain fixity that dismayed him.
"Oh," she cried, "so much good news! I think you will receive a very grand assignment. Perhaps even a governorship!" She clapped her hands. "Heavens, what a signal honor at your age!" Biting her lip, she added quickly, "It is, of course, a well-deserved honor and a fine and wise choice. How very pleased your mother will be!"
Akitada asked softly, "And you? Are you pleased?"
She blushed and lowered her eyes. "Of course. It is a very great thing for you, for all of us." Then she asked breathlessly, with a slight catch in her voice, "How soon would you be leaving? There are so many things to be got ready. If you receive the appointment, you will be gone a long time… four years at least." She hung her head.
"There is no point in worrying about the preparations. It may all just be so much wishful thinking on my part. No doubt I was reading too much into a chance remark. And it is hoping for too much! I am only a clerk, a mere eighth grade in rank." He stretched out his hand to raise her face to his. Her eyes were filled with tears, but she smiled bravely. "Tamako," he asked, "I really wanted to know how you would feel about accompanying me to such an outpost of civilization."
"Oh!" Her whole face lit up. "You would take me with you then?" As he nodded, the tears spilled over and coursed down her cheeks, mingling with the streaks of dirt. She fell to her knees on the muddy ground and bowed. "Thank you, my husband. You have made this insignificant person very happy."
"Tamako!" he scolded, reaching for her. "Get up! There is no one about and no need at all for this cursed formality. And you have spoiled your gown."
She rose, chuckling tearfully and brushing at the black stains on her skirt. He took a tissue from his sleeve and wiped away the traces of muddy tears.
"I was so afraid you would not come," he confessed. "Most of the ladies I know would consider such an assignment one of the more agonizing torments of hell. There are none of the refinements of city life there, and I am told the winters last for eight long months."
"But look at me!" she said with a laugh, showing her dirty hands and her ruined gown. "I am nothing like those ladies and shall be far more comfortable in the uncivilized north than here, for I am a stranger both to proper behavior and to such fine clothes." She turned to glance around at the blackened landscape, and sighed blissfully. "I came to tell Father's spirit about our marriage. And now I am glad that he could share this good news and my happiness."
"And mine."
Taking his hand, Tamako took Akitada through the ruined garden to the wisteria.
"Look!" she said, bending to point to the twisted old trunk where it rose from the barren ground. Four or five bright green shoots had emerged from the roots and were already reaching eagerly upward. "And there, and over there!" She pointed to shrubs and young trees, and Akitada saw that they were all putting forth new leaves.
And then a nightingale began to sing in the old willow by the gate.