Death on an Autumn River (29 page)

He glanced around and saw nothing but hardened faces.  The chances of getting information were not good.  He had better think about getting away and let the government take care of the pirate hideout. 

Chances were that on its next departure the ship would resume the hunt for prey.  He could not escape that way.  And even if he could convince the chief that he was a promising recruit, Tora shuddered at what he would be expected to do.  Pirates were ruthless about slaughtering ships’ crews. 

Was there some other way?

The plateau around the great cave was high above the sea but enclosed by rocky ridges and forest.  Only toward the west, he could catch a glimpse of the water.  He saw two other islands, fairly close, and knew there were many more.  But even so, he could not hope to swim that far.

“You!
  Tora!  Come here.”

Tora spun around.  The chief was gesturing.  He got up, dusted himself off, and strolled over.

“They say you’re a spy,” the chief growled.

Tora chose a rock and sat down across from the chief.  “They’re idiots,” he said, grinning.

The chief narrowed his eyes.  “What were you doing in the hostel?”

“I needed a place to sleep.  What else?”

“You’d been asking questions all over town.  Don’t lie to me.”

“I always ask questions.  I like to know what’s going on and who people are.”

“You asked questions about us.”

“No.  I didn’t know anything about you.  I asked about pirates.”

“Why?”

Tora looked up at the sky.  After the storm it was a clear blue again.  High above him circled several birds of prey.  Below he could hear the cries of gulls.  “I was thinking of becoming one,” he said, “but now I’m not so sure.  Are you going to split that money with your men?”

“What?”

Tora brought his eyes back to the chief’s bulging shirt and grinned.  “The master of your ship brought you a bag of coins.  It looked heavy.  Maybe it was gold. Anyway, I guess being a pirate is a dangerous and bloody business.  I’d like to think there’s quite a lot of gold to be earned.  The food was good, but I don’t work for food alone.”

“You’re a cocky bastard all right,” said the chief.  “Cocky bastards are trouble.  Best make short work of them.”

“Cocky bastards are what you need more of.  Not idiots like Dragon Tattoo.  And by the way, he stole my sword.  I want it back.”

The chief snorted.  “He took it off you; you take it back.  I’d like to see you try.”

“Very well.”
Tora got to his feet.  “It’s been a pleasure, chief,” he said, made a slight bow, and walked away. 

He did not really feel very cocky, but by now and with a full stomach he was very angry.  Part of the anger was directed at himself for having been careless.  Part was directed at Dragon Tattoo, the man he held responsible for his capture.  It had become clear that the bastard had acted out of personal spite rather than because he really thought Tora was a spy and a danger to their enterprise.  Sometimes a fool is more dangerous than the slyest villain.

Since they made no effort to restrict his movements, he wandered around, trying to get an idea how to get away.  They watched him though, and he knew better than to go off by himself.  Instead, he stayed with groups of the pirates, watching their work, asking questions from time to time that received no answers, and surveying as much of the island as he could.

They would not let him explore the cave where they stored their loot, but nobody objected when he joined some men who headed down to the hidden harbor.  They got into the boat that had brought them ashore, and rowed out to the ship.  Tora sat on the sandy beach and watched them begin repairs.

When the boat returned to pick up some lumber, he got up to meet them.  “I can help,” he offered.  “I’d rather work than sit about doing nothing.”

They looked at each other.  Tora thought he recognized the man he had stopped from going overboard during the storm.  He said, “Let him come.  There’s no way you can escape.”

Tora grinned.  “I don’t want to escape.”

They did not become any friendlier or more talkative after that, but they pointed out the lumber stored in one of the shacks, and sail cloth, and big bundles of hemp rope.  These he helped them load into the boat and then joined them for the return trip to the ship.

In the afternoon they rowed back to the shore to drag a large tree trunk to the ship.  It would be the new mast, replacing the one the storm had taken away.  This was very heavy work, and Tora was drenched in sweat.  He had long since stripped to his pants.  They had stared at him when he did this.  Tora’s torso and upper arms bore many scars from fights and battles of the past, and he thought they treated him with more respect afterward.

For his part, he developed equal respect for their ability to make these repairs and for their determination and pride in their work.  He was too clumsy for most of the chores, but he knew how to carry, lift, pull, use a hammer, and generally lend a hand.

Dusk came early in the small bay hidden by the tall rocks, and they stopped their labors for their evening rice.  Tora could not remember when he had last been so utterly exhausted.  He was still bruised from the stormy night, and his head was sore and hurt. 
But the pirates had taken more punishment during the storm, and he was not about to show them how weak he was.
  He dragged his weary body from the bay to the plateau above, seriously doubting that he could make the climb.

.  The sinking sun still left a golden glow in front of the great cave.  Once there, he collapsed and emptied his mind, lying on the ground, watching birds circling above in the fading light.  When he gathered his wits again and sat up with a groan, he saw that the chief was listening to the report on the repairs.  Some of the men he had worked with stood around him, and by their gestures and glances he guessed that they talked about him.  He had been unable to glean anything useful about their habits or his chances of escaping, but perhaps he had won himself some goodwill. 

Feeling a strange bristling on the back of his neck, he turned his head.  Dragon Tattoo was sitting a few yards behind him.  He was looking at him, his eyes filled with raw hatred.  Only now, Tora thought, there was something new:  a hint of triumph and gleeful anticipation.  

The attack would come soon.

He was still weighing his options against Dragon Tattoo when the chief called them both over.

He told Tora, “I could put you in chains tonight, but you’ve made yourself useful, and besides Tojo would just slit your throat.  On the other hand, left free, you might try to escape while the camp is asleep. So I’ve decided that Tojo will watch you while you sleep.”

Dragon Tattoo protested.  “Chain him up.  I want to sleep myself.”

Tora said nothing.  He eyed his sword at Dragon Tattoo’s side and wondered if he could snatch it and cut the bastard’s throat.  Maybe the chief would overlook it.

The chief growled, “No.  It’s your punishment for being an idiot and a coward.  And if he gets away, or if something happens to him, I’ll personally cut off your balls.”

It started raining long before the end of the party.  Guests scrambled to get inside and preserve their finery.  Akitada did not bother to bid his hostess farewell.  He was simmering with suppressed fury and did not trust himself to speak to her or, for that matter, to Sadenari.

“We’re leaving,” he growled at the annoying young man, who was still smiling broadly and fondly at him. 
“Now!”

“Yes, sir,” said Sadenari, looking a little puzzled.

“I have a horse, but you’ll walk.”

Sadenari gazed at the drizzle but said only, “Yes, sir.”

As they were leaving the River Mansion with gusts of wind and rain buffeting them, Sadenari tried to speak again. “I was so glad to see you, sir.  I have much to report—”

“Later,” snarled Akitada, not at all moved by the rain-wet face turned up to him.

They finished the trip in silence.  When they reached his room at the monastery, Akitada wanted to shout at Sadenari but he could not risk waking the monks.  He pointed to the bedding.  “Get out of your wet clothes and wrap yourself in that.”  He himself stripped, draping their clothes around the room in hopes that they would dry by morning.

Sadenari, naked and shivering, covered himself with one of the quilts, leaving the other for Akitada.  Outside the wind increased.  It shook the walls and sent branches crashing down on the roof.

“I think you realize that you no longer have a government career,” Akitada said through clenched teeth.  “After this escapade and the trouble you caused, I will not have you work for me or anyone else if I can help it.”

Sadenari stared.  “But—”

“We spent the past two weeks searching for you, afraid that you’d been abducted and might be dead.  When I found that your father received a letter from you, it became clear that you’d gone off adventuring on your own, without regard for your responsibilities or word to me.  And now I find you, by mere accident, in Eguchi, playing the whore to an old woman.”

Sadenari had become pale.  In a weak voice, he said, “But I did write.”

“Nonsense.
 
Or at least not to me or the ministry.”
  A suspicion crossed Akitada’s mind.  “Why did you write to Nakahara?”

“I didn’t write to him.  The letters were to you, under cover to Nakahara.  You were staying there.  You mean he didn’t give them to you?”

Akitada stared at him.  “No.  There was more than one letter?”

“Oh, yes.  I wrote a report every day.  Then my money ran out, and I had to look for a job.  After that, I wrote several more times but not every day.  Working made it hard to do any investigating.”

“Working?
  You should have returned!”  Akitada took to pacing, while Sadenari huddled into his cover.  The room had become cold, and the storm sounded worse.  “That’s why I got none of the letters.  Nakahara knew,” muttered Akitada.  “All the time, Nakahara knew.  And Otomo was sending me off on wild goose chases. 
The villains!”

“You think Nakahara is the guilty person?” Sadenari asked.

“Oh, yes. 
He and the prefect, and probably the governor, too.”
  Akitada recalled himself.  It was really too frustrating the way everyone seemed to have perfectly plausible explanations for their dubious behavior. “You’re by no means out of the woods yet.  Report!” he snapped.

Sadenari paled again. 
“Yes, sir.
  I had some good luck at first.  I found out that the pirates operated from Kawajiri.  I set out for there.  That was in my first letter.”  He paused uncertainly.

“Go on.”

“In Kawajiri, I ran into difficulties.  The sailors I spoke to didn’t want to talk.  They claimed there were no pirates in Kawajiri and never had been.  I stayed another day in some cheap sailors’ hostel, but by then I was running very low on funds.  Fortunately, I picked up a rumor of some sailors who had a lot of money and were going to Kaya or Eguchi to spend it on women and wine.  I used my last money on a boat to Eguchi. 
And another letter to you.”

Akitada cast up his eyes.  “I might have known you’d end up in Eguchi.  We tracked you to the Kawajiri hostel, but thought you’d gone on board a ship.  Tell me, did your investigation into the girl’s death produce better results than the ones into piracy?”

Sadenari fidgeted. 
“Yes, sir.
  But I really went to find the pirates.”

Akitada grunted his disbelief.  “What about the girl?”

  “I took a job in Eguchi.  In the restaurant where we ate, remember?  I thought since they fired the old waiter, I might have a chance, and I needed the money. Besides, pirates might just show up there.”

Akitada grimaced.  “Get on with it.”

“The restaurant delivers food to the River Mansion when there’s a party.  I’m quite strong, and there was a lot of food to carry.  The
betto
Kakuan sent the others away but asked me to stay and help.  I was glad, because I thought it was the place where the poor girl had been murdered, but I didn’t find out anything that night, and in the end I had to walk back to Eguchi by myself.  Only, the next day, Kakuan came to the restaurant and offered me money to work at the mansion.  Much more money than that skinflint paid me.  And that’s how you came to find me there.”  He stopped with a happy smile.

“What is it that you found out about the dead girl?”

“Well, sir, her name was Akogi!”  He paused to gauge the effect of this, but Akitada only nodded.

“She was with one of the courtesans who attended a party of noblemen from the capital.  They say a guest asked to buy her out, but something happened, and it came to nothing.”

“So?”

“That’s all I know for sure, but whatever happened was just before we found her. So they must have killed her.”

“They?”

“Well, someone objected to the buy-out. That will be easy enough to find out.”