Black Arrow (45 page)

“His hair is growing back,” explained Umehara.

Akitada suppressed a smile. “Sit up and look at me, Okano.”

The actor sat up slowly, pudgy hands fluttering from hair to face and finally dropping in despair. With great difficulty, Akitada kept a straight face. Above Okano’s red face with its bulging, tear-filled eyes and quivering lips, black tufts rose into the air. Poor Okano needed no costume to play the part of a goblin. “Can you not comb it back?” he suggested.

“It’s too short. See?” Okano slapped at the horns with both hands. “Umehara gave Okano some fish oil. But it made it worse.”

That explained the strange smell.

“Ah. No doubt it will improve in time. You did not wish to consult me about your hair, I trust,” Akitada remarked.

“Oh, no,” they chorused, exchanging doleful looks.

Umehara was wringing his hands, “It’s about the sergeant telling us to leave.”

Okano wailed, “Where will Okano go? What will he do? He has no friends in the whole wide world. Okano will kill himself!”

“Holy heavens,” cried Akitada. “Stop that nonsense at once. Umehara, can’t you explain to him that he is a free man, cleared of all charges, and that he will receive some money for his suffering? Why, in heaven’s name is he carrying on like this?”

Umehara began to weep also. “He understands,” he sobbed. “It’s all very well for Takagi.” He wiped his streaming face and nose on his sleeve. “Takagi wants to go home to his village. But Okano and me ...”—he sniffed—”... we’ve got nobody and ... we’ve never been as happy as we’ve been here. We don’t want to leave your jail, sir.”

Akitada was taken aback. After a moment, he said in a choking voice, “Well, if you are sure, I’ll put in a good word for you with the sergeant.”

* * * *

THE WAY OF WAR

wo hours before sunrise Akitada still sat at his desk, staring now at the feathered arrow, now at the shell-matching game. The tea in his cup had long since been drunk and the brazier was filled with ashes. It had grown cold, but he felt neither the chill nor thirst or tiredness.

All night he had turned over in his mind the problem of the impregnable manor. Hamaya had searched the archives for information about its construction but found nothing of interest. Akitada’s memory from his visits discouraged hope. The natural defenses were just too good. Each time, he had approached the mountaintop manor by its main gate—was there another access?—and found it could be defended against an army by a handful of bowmen on the watchtower above. A battering ram was out of the question, and so were ladders. The rocky hillside, topped with walls, was too high and steep to be climbed against defending archers.

Of course, a bonfire laid against the wooden main gate would eventually consume it, but at what cost to those carrying and stacking the faggots and bundles of wood? Still, some cover might be constructed for them.

Even then, the big problem remained: When the gate was breached, the narrow entrance would only allow a small number of soldiers at a time to penetrate to the interior courts, and each of those was separately walled and defended. Uesugi had more than enough men to hold Takesuke off. Too many would die in such a gamble.

Akitada took up the arrow and fingered it thoughtfully. There was someone who might know a way.

He heard a sound in the archives outside his office, and clapped his hands.

Hamaya stuck his head in. “Your Excellency is up already?”

Akitada did not bother to correct him. “Send for Sergeant Kaoru. And get someone to bring more coals and some hot tea.”

Kaoru was prompt. It had been a while since he had had occasion to come to Akitada’s office. When he sat down, he saw the arrow and flinched. His eyes flew to Akitada’s face.

“One of yours?” Akitada asked, watching him.

“What? Oh.” He shook his head.

“It is the arrow that shot Kaibara. It occurred to me that it might have been you who shot him. Hitomaro told me of your skill with the bow.”

Kaoru blinked. “No, sir, not me, though I wish it had been. You remember I was here at the tribunal that night.”

“Ah, yes. Do you have any idea who might have done it?”

Silence. A servant entered quietly, bringing a fresh brazier of coals and a steaming pot of tea. Akitada waited until he was gone. Then he said, “Come! You recognized the arrow. Whose is it?”

Kaoru was pale now, but he answered in a steady voice. “It belongs to a dead man, sir. That arrow is part of a set of contest arrows used by the late Lord of Takata’s elder brother.”

“Ah. I was sure I had seen some like it in the Uesugi armory. It suggests that one of Uesugi’s own people shot Kaibara.”

“No!”

Akitada raised his brows. “No? How else could this arrow get out of the armory?”

Kaoru looked at it as if mesmerized. “The servants attach magic powers to ... to these arrows and ... there is much coming and going of servants at Takata. No doubt someone took it from the armory.”

“No doubt,” Akitada said dryly. “You seem well informed about the household. Have you spent much time there?”

A flush slowly rose on the other man’s face. “I did not steal the arrow, sir,” he said stiffly.

Akitada smiled. “Of course not,” he said affably. “I ask because I had hoped for information about the manor. We will move on Takata and demand Uesugi’s surrender today.”

“You will?” Relief gave way to excitement. “Then the rumors are true. He will refuse to surrender and you will have to attack the manor. May I join you, sir?”

Akitada felt depressed by the other man’s eagerness. “The bloodshed will be terrible. You would almost certainly be killed. Besides, you are needed here.”

Kaoru bit his lip. His eyes searched Akitada’s face. Finally he said, “I could be of use. I know the manor very well, having carried wood there all my life, ever since I was a small boy and went with my father.” He added, almost as an afterthought, “He was a woodcutter also.”

“A woodcutter, eh?” Akitada studied the other man. “Tell me,” he asked casually, “where did you learn to read and write Chinese characters?”

“Chinese characters? I don’t... oh, you mean the jail records. I know just a few, for brevity.”

Akitada nodded. “Quite correct and appropriate for official documents. Our native tongue is more useful for poetry and the ladies’ romances. However, few people are adept at Chinese, especially at legal terminology, and I would guess your style is as good as Hamaya’s. Where did you learn it?”

Kaoru fidgeted. “A Buddhist priest taught me when I was young,” he finally said.

Akitada smiled. “Really? A Buddhist priest? I see. You have a gentleman’s education and are a very talented young man, Sergeant.”

Kaoru flushed more deeply. “I do not lie either, sir,” he snapped.

“No, I can see that.” Akitada paused a moment. Having enjoyed Kaoru’s discomfiture, he decided he had tormented the young man enough. “Perhaps you would not mind drawing me a plan of the manor. I am particularly interested to know if there is access by means other than the main gate.”

Kaoru brightened. “There is one way, sir. A hidden door and secret passage. But it will admit only a few men.” He reached for Akitada’s ink cake, poured a few drops of water in the dish and began to rub ink. “It’s in the northeast wall and leads to a narrow passage inside the wall. You come out in one of the closed galleries. Its purpose is to allow the lord and his family to escape, or to send out messengers if the manor is under siege.” Pulling over some paper with one hand, he dipped a brush into the ink and began to sketch rapidly. “Here, sir. That’s where the exit is.”

Akitada bent over the plan and nodded. “Hmm. It could be just what we need. What about guards?”

“I doubt many know about it. Besides, only one man at a time can use it. There is a movable panel that can be barred from inside.” Kaoru paused and then asked hesitantly, “Will you have to tell many people about this, sir?”

“Don’t worry, your secret is safe. Only Tora and Hitomaro will know.”

Kaoru stared at him, but Akitada kept his face impassive. After a moment, Kaoru said, “I take it they are to go in and then open the main gate for Takesuke’s men? I don’t think that will work, sir. The secret passage may not be guarded, but it is a long way from the gate, and they do not know their way about. Please allow me to accompany them.”

Akitada thought about it and nodded. “You may be right, and I suppose you are the only man for the job at that.”

The other man blinked but said nothing.

“Very well,” Akitada said, folding up the plan. “The four of us then.”

“Surely not you, sir? What about Genba?”

“Genba has great strength and courage, but he has never learned to use a sword. Besides, someone has to stay here.”

“But what if something goes wrong . . . the place is crawling with warriors. Think of your lady.”

Akitada had looked in on Tamako during the night and watched her sleeping peacefully. The thought that they might not meet again, and worse, that his decision would destroy her also, perhaps as soon as the following day, had sickened him. Now he glared at Kaoru and snapped, “I’m going.” Seeing Kaoru’s dismay, he added more calmly, “We will need something to distract the soldiers’ attention.”

They sank into a glum silence.

“I think I have an idea,” Kaoru suddenly said, “but it will mean withdrawing the siege troops a little.”

“That can be arranged. Go on.”

“My grandmother is a
miko,
a medium who foretells the future by going to sleep and letting the gods speak through her. You know what I mean?”

Akitada nodded, but his heart sank. Hitomaro’s madwoman from the outcast village. He had little respect for such practices, and in this case their lives would depend on Kaoru’s senile grandmother.

Kaoru saw his expression and said, “My grandmother is well known at the manor. She used to serve as a lady’s maid there many years ago when she was a young girl, and she still has friends among the servants.”

“Surely Uesugi will not admit her at the present time.”

“On the contrary. He will welcome her because he is superstitious. If Takesuke withdraws and she shows up, he will ask for a prediction about his chances.”

“Ah.” Akitada considered it, then shook his head. “No, I cannot permit it. It would put your grandmother into extreme danger.”

“She won’t stay long. Besides, they will be afraid to harm her.”

“But how will she be able to create a disturbance, yet leave before the alarm is given?”