Death of a Doll Maker (6 page)

“I need to get back to the tribunal. Since Okata won’t help, there will be a lot of work.”

Maeda slapped his back. “Thanks for your help, Tora. Come back anytime. Oh, and don’t worry about your thieves. I’ll have a word with some people I know.”

5

DAZAIFU

L
eaving Saburo and Mori behind to put the scattered documents in order and to hire some servants, Akitada got back on his borrowed horse and set out for Dazaifu to report his arrival to the assistant governor general. He hoped to get some answers about the way his predecessor had left things in the Chikuzen tribunal and to have the missing people and supplies replaced.

It was customary for a governor to travel with a retinue but this was, of course, impossible. Akitada had at least no trouble finding his way. The broad well-paved road ran straight south from Hakata to his destination. On the outskirts of Minami, he passed a post station and lodging house for officials. Both were in good repair and busy. The road was busy with official and military travelers among the usual messengers and farmers’ carts. He noted the large number of soldiers.

Mountains rose on all sides, but the road followed the valley of the Mikasa River. The distance from his new office to Dazaifu was no more than a single post station, and on the way he marveled at the fortifications protecting the central government of Kyushu against foreign invaders. The mountains on either side of the road had strategically placed forts watching the road. The most amazing sight was the
mizuki
, a huge fortified dam spanning the valley from mountain to mountain. It was a building feat worthy of giants. The only passage was over a bridge across a deep moat and through a narrow, tunnel-like cut through the dam. An enormous gate guarded by soldiers appeared at the other end. Akitada was stopped repeatedly and presented his travel papers. Each time the guards stared at him, then saluted and waved him through. On the other side of the gate, Akitada saw remnants of deep canals which ran behind the earthworks. He had read they could be filled with water from the Mikasa River. The canals had floodgates which could be opened against an invading army.

But these days there was no need for such measures, and he soon saw Dazaifu ahead.

Though much smaller than the capital, Dazaifu resembled it at least in its overall plan. The government center was a walled and gated enclosure to the north of the residential area. No expense had been spared there to erect many large halls and the official residence of the governor general. Like the capital, Dazaifu had a central avenue lined with willows and called Suzako. It took Akitada past offices and dwellings of the officials who oversaw the nine provinces of Kyushu and controlled trade with foreign nations. There was a preponderance of officialdom here. This was not a normal city, filled with ordinary people, and their markets, temples, and shrines. He saw only one pagoda rising above the many roofs.

Akitada felt out of his element. Regardless of the supervision by the capital and the impressive presence of the military, he knew himself in a different world where different rules and laws applied. He could not be more poorly equipped to take on his new duties.

At the main gate to the administrative compound he identified himself again and was admitted and given directions. Once he had reached the assistant governor’s palace, he was taken to him rather quickly. In passing the people waiting in the anterooms, he met with curious stares and a buzz of murmurs. Senior officials walked about in their blue or green robes and official black hats. They looked much the way he did himself, yet someone must have passed the word that the new governor of Chikuzen had arrived.

Fujiwara Korenori, a senior Fujiwara noble holding the third rank, was in his late forties and pudgy like most of his family. He looked businesslike enough in his large office, surrounded by secretaries and scribes bent over documents.

Korenori rose to greet Akitada with a smile. “Welcome, my dear Sugawara,” he said jovially. “You’re early. Had a good journey, I hope? No pirate troubles? Good, good. Let’s go into my private office.” He waved to a clerk. “Somebody bring some wine.” Taking Akitada’s arm, he walked him into an adjoining smaller room. It was furnished elegantly with books, paintings, silk cushions on thick mats, fine lamps and ornate braziers. Akitada thought of his own stripped quarters. He also wondered why he had been hustled away so quickly for a private meeting.

As soon as they had sat down, he passed his imperial orders to Korenori, presenting them with both hands and a bow. Korenori received them in the same manner, raised the imperial seal to his forehead and then placed them on a desk.

He said, “I’ve been informed of your assignment by my cousin, the regent, and also by Counselor Kinsada. You are to take over the administration of Chikuzen while you look into the illegal trading with China.”

Akitada wondered how much Korenori knew of his assignment. When you have been told to find a traitor who might be a very high-ranking man, you tend to suspect even the assistant governor general. Akitada confined himself to agreeing with Korenori about his assignment.

When a clerk brought the wine, neither of them spoke until he had gone again.

Korenori poured. “To your health and a long life, Sugawara.”

“Thank you, sir, and may you have the same good fortune.”

They drank.

Akitada asked, “Do you have additional information for me?”

“Nothing, I’m afraid. Things have been very quiet.” Korenori frowned. “Too quiet.”

“How so?”

Korenori shook his head. “If I knew, you probably wouldn’t be here. I think it will be best if you take things easy at first. No sense in making our man suspicious before we have solid proof.”

Akitada cleared his throat. “I agree completely, sir, but I am faced with some unexpected problems. I am to replace Governor Tachibana who was recalled for cause. May I be allowed to make an initial report on how I found the provincial headquarters upon my arrival?”

Korenori raised his brows. “What do you mean?”

“I had expected to meet Governor Tachibana in person but was told he had already left.”

“Oh, yes. Tachibana was in a hurry to get home. I let him go. Can’t blame the man for wanting to set matters straight. Embarrassing to be recalled before your term is up.”

“I see. But it raises the question about how he left Chikuzen affairs. It is customary for the central government to send an inspector general to approve a governor’s books before a new man takes over. This apparently did not happen.”

“Oh, they dispensed with it. They already knew or suspected the worst and the distance makes it more practical for us to handle the matter here. Tachibana has been properly released, so you needn’t worry about it.”

Actually this news did not reassure Akitada, but he could hardly say so.

“I’m glad to hear it,” he said and took a sip of his wine. “However, when Lord Tachibana left, he seems to have dismissed his staff. His entire staff. Without pay. Apparently the servants returned after his departure and helped themselves to anything of value left behind. I don’t know what the former governor may have taken or sold, but at my arrival I found neither furnishings, nor horses, guards, servants, or tribunal staff, with the exception of one elderly senior clerk and a young stable boy. The clerk had the seal and a small amount of gold in his safekeeping, but it is hardly enough to cover expenses.”

Korenori had listened with astonishment. “How extraordinary! What shall we do? I suppose you’d better hire people. Perhaps a couple of the clerks and scribes here in Dazaifu won’t mind moving. And soldiers. Yes, I can supply those. We’ve got plenty of soldiers. The rest is difficult. I just don’t have ready funds. But Chikuzen is a rich province. You’ll raise money there without trouble. Tachibana always did. Just go to the Hakata merchants for a loan.”

Akitada gulped more wine. “I rather suspect it may be the reason why Lord Tachibana was recalled.”

An uncomfortable silence fell. Then Korenori said, “I did not suggest that you engage in anything illegal. In any case, I cannot supply you with funds.” He fidgeted. “I think it will be best if you return to your post immediately. Meanwhile, I’ll set things in motion here. You will have your people shortly. Keep me informed about your activities, both the official duties and the unofficial ones.”

Akitada cleared his throat again. “Under normal circumstances, a province of Chikuzen’s size has a senior secretary and a senior clerk, both of whom hold rank and are appointed by the central government. In addition, there should be an inspector, three junior clerks and a certain number of trained scribes.”

“I’m aware of the rules.” Korenori frowned. “Kyushu is different. Since most of the administrative duties are handled here in Dazaifu, you will not need so many people. As for appointing ranking noblemen, I’m afraid you are all that is allowed. Appoint your own men. I hope you brought retainers with you?”

“Only two men, sir, but they are capable.”

“Under the circumstances, it’s a much better solution than using local staff, don’t you think?”

Akitada bowed, expressed his thanks, and rose. The issue of funds, he now knew, was not a topic Korenori would entertain now or in the future.

6

FLUTE PLAY

U
pon his return, Akitada found some changes. For one thing, the barefoot boy in a torn shirt and short pants stood guard at the gate and stepped into his path with a bow.

“Who’ll Koji zay, zir?” he asked with a gap-toothed grin.

His local dialect did not help, but Akitada made out that he offered to announce him. To whom was another question. Mori had said he was not right in the head.

His appearance also was hardly appropriate, but his cheerful manner and the way his bushy hair stood up in stiff tufts pleased Akitada nevertheless. “I’m the governor, Koji” he said, returning the smile.

The boy goggled up at him. “Himzelf?”

“Yes.”

The boy knelt on the ground, touching his head to the gravel.

“Please get up,” Akitada said. “What is your job here?”

The boy stood, still looking awestruck. “Koji’s guardin’ the gate, zir. Koji’s ox herd by perfession. Also good fisherman and growin’ melons. Happy to zerve your honor.” A wide smile showed off the gap in his front teeth.

Akitada kept a straight face. “Thank you, Koji. You can let me pass now.”

“Yezzir.” He hopped aside, and Akitada rode in and dismounted. “Take the horse to the stable.”

Koji looked at the horse, then back at the gate and at the horse again. “Can’t do.”

“Of course you can. What do you want
me
to do with the horse?”

Koji twisted in agony. “Maybe you take him?”

It was funny, and Akitada chuckled. Perhaps this new servant was just another example of the many difficulties facing him, but the boy’s difficulty over deciding which of his duties was more important made him likable.

And perhaps Akitada’s own problem was not so dissimilar. Should he make the administration of the province his first priority or the secret assignment he had been given?

“Koji,” he said patiently, “I’m the governor. What I tell you to do must be obeyed before anything else. Do you understand?”

Koji’s face brightened. “Very good!” he cried and came for the horse. “You got it, zir. Very smart, bein’ a governor.”

Chuckling again, Akitada walked into the tribunal hall. The wooden floors shone. The dais held a brocade cushion in its center and two small scribes’ desks on either side, each with its own pillow of plain stuff.

Nodding his approval, he passed into his office. Here, too, changes had been wrought. New shelves held document boxes, and two desks faced each other, each with a cushion and a set of writing utensils. Mori sat at the smaller desk doing some paper work. He rose and bowed. Akitada looked around. “What happened?”

Mori was clearly uncomfortable. “I’m afraid you may not like it, Excellency. They brought back what they took.”

Akitada shouted, “Saburo?”

Saburo, neatly dressed in blue robe, black sash, and hat came in. “You’re back, sir. Sorry. The gate guard leaves much to be desired. He didn’t announce you.”

“He will learn. Besides, I made him take my horse.”

“Oh. That should have been done by the stable boy.” Saburo frowned. “I’m afraid they’re pretty uncouth still, sir.”

“Give them time. I’m amazed by what you and Mori have accomplished. What about the furniture?”

“People have been showing up all day, carrying this and that, saying ‘We were keeping it safe for the new governor.’” Saburo grimaced. “They hoped for a reward, but I merely thanked them, reminding them it was their duty to maintain good relations with the governor and his staff.”

Akitada laughed. “You think they were our thieves?”

Saburo exchanged a glance with Mori. “Oh yes. They got worried we’d find out and punish them. Mind you, there are some hold-outs, and we still only have four horses and an ancient ox back, but I thought it best to accept the returns for the time being. Come see your private rooms. They look much better already.”

They did indeed. Akitada’s study now had some nice reed mats on its floor, and there was another desk and two rather plain old screens to keep out drafts. Bamboo shelves stood ready to receive his books, far more than he had brought with him. A small stand held a brazier and a small iron pot to heat wine or water for tea. Several lamps, both lanterns and pottery oil lamps stood about. His clothing trunks were neatly arranged against a wall.

But there were no pictures. The lighter rectangles on all the walls remained blank. Lord Tachibana had taken all the art. Perhaps the scrolls had belonged to him, but given the many pale rectangles in the tribunal, Akitada did not think so. Three years did not produce such changes.

He took off his sword and placed it on its rack and complimented Saburo on all the work he had done, remarking on how clean the rooms were.

Saburo said, “Oh, the servants have returned to stay. Having handed over the furnishings, they assumed their former positions. There’s even a cook now, so we can have hot meals. Mori was opposed, but we needed servants.”