The Old Men of Omi (2 page)

“Are you feeling all right?” Tora asked. “We can rest if you like.”

Akitada frowned. “I’m well enough, Tora. Don’t forget that I have ridden this distance and much more many times in my life.”

“That was then, sir. You haven’t really been this far since you were wounded.”

“That was eighteen months ago. I’m perfectly well.” He said it sharply to hide the fact that he was tired and that his back and backside both hurt from the unaccustomed time in the saddle. To prove that all was well, he leaned forward and patted his horse. The gray, beautiful though he still was, had also slackened in his energy. They were both past their prime.

Tora glanced back at the straggling procession behind them. “I’ll try to get them to speed up a little,” he said, swinging his horse about. “We’ll be in Otsu by sunset.”

Akitada glanced after him. Tora was still as agile and energetic as ever, yet he, too, had suffered serious wounds in his master’s service. Akitada had taken him on many years ago when they were both young men. Tora had been a deserter, a peasant who had been conscripted for the wars in the north and had ended up beating an officer. When they met, he had claimed the name “Tora” for “tiger,” and proved his right to it. But to Akitada’s amusement, he had lately taken to using his birth name and ennobled it by linking it with the village Sashima where he had been born. He was now Lieutenant Sashima Kamatari. Neither the double name nor the rank were strictly legitimate. They had become necessary in Kyushu where Akitada had struggled with the governorship of Chikuzen province. After years of disdain for the “good people,” Tora clearly enjoyed his new status these days.

The highway between the capital and Otsu was always crowded. Akitada’s entourage shared the roadway with mounted messengers, farmers’ carts, pilgrims and other travelers, both on horseback and on foot, as well as contingents of soldiers and of heavily armed
sohei,
warrior monks belonging to one of the temples on Mount Hiei.

They had been passed quite rudely by these soldier-monks a mile or so back. In spite of the fact that their flag marked their convoy as on imperial business, the
sohei
, their heads shrouded by white cloth, but their bodies wearing full armor, had forced their way past with shouts of “Make way! Make way!”

Akitada had glowered at their leader, who had stared back impudently as he passed. His followers had laughed and added some rude shouts that “slow old men should stay home.”

He could not be sure whose
sohei
these were but guessed they belonged to the mountain temple complex of Enryaku-ji.

The government was becoming very nervous about the warlike preparations at Enryaku-ji. The temple now hired mercenaries and trained both lay monks and regular members of the monastery to fight. They claimed they had to do this for their own protection, but Enryaku-ji owned an enormous amount of land in the area and was turning its manors and villages into armed camps. His visit to Otsu was an effort to avert a war between the monks of Onjo-ji and those of Enryaku-ji by settling land disputes legally.

Akitada sat his horse with slumping shoulders, bleakly taking in his surroundings. This journey added to his sense of futility by bringing back memories that were painful. Ten years ago, he had been here, mourning the death of his firstborn during the smallpox epidemic. In a way, he had also mourned losing his wife’s love. On that occasion and in his distraught state, he had thought to end his loneliness by raising a silent child he found wandering near the highway to Otsu. This had been in vain, but somehow he had found his wife’s love again. They had clung together more closely than ever before.

But now he had lost her for good. It had happened in another spring two years before, and this time he had found no way to cope with this loss except through work. To make things worse, he was in poor health, having suffered a knife attack some time later.

His health was part of the reason for this excursion. It was thought he needed to get away for some pleasurable and relaxing days or weeks as the guest of his best friend Kosehira, currently governor of Omi province.

The other reason was the assignment, but the real work was to be done by the men in his entourage with minimal supervision on his part. Much of it would be in the hands of the man riding in the sedan chair. Yoshida Kunyoshi was the imperial archivist. The other officials served in various offices and bureaus of the government, but they all had one thing in common: they were very familiar with the contentions of two immensely powerful Buddhist temples in Omi province: Enriyaku-ji and Onjo-ji.

Kunyoshi was well over eighty and had occasional memory lapses, but no one else had his experience. Akitada knew him well and had frequently consulted him in the past. Their relationship went back to the very early years when Akitada had been a student at the university and sought information for papers assigned by his professors. But this had been a very long time ago. Nowadays, Kunyoshi suffered from all the aches and infirmities of old age and had become ill-tempered.

Akitada, though only in his forty-third year, felt like an old man himself.

Tora returned, muttering about city people being unable to ride horses. Akitada sympathized with them but said nothing. He looked forward to getting off his horse and relaxing his sore body in a hot bath.

He also looked forward to seeing Kosehira again. It had been years now; they had both been sent to opposite ends of the country. Kosehira had regained the favor of the court after a punitive assignment for having supported an imperial prince suspected of treason.

“Look, there’s the lake!” cried Tora. “It’s beautiful. Oh, sir, you’ll see we shall have a wonderful time. Very little work and no tangling with murderous villains this time. We’ll go hunting, fishing, riding, and visit famous spots, and in between there’ll be delicious food and a good rest.”

The lake
was
beautiful. It glistened like a polished silver mirror between the hills up ahead, but Akitada could not hide the irritation that Tora’s cosseting caused. He hated being treated like an invalid, especially when he felt like one.

Kosehira and two of his sons were waiting outside Otsu. Akitada dismounted, somewhat painfully, and embraced his friend as the two young men and Akitada’s retinue looked on. Akitada was nearly moved to tears to see his closest friend again. He released Kosehira, blinked, and looked with astonishment at the two young men. Kosehira introduced them as Arihito and Arikuno. Akitada remembered them as small boys. They bowed with smiling faces while he marveled that so much time could have passed in the blinking of an eye.

Kosehira studied Akitada’s face with a worried frown. “You look ill,” he said. “Are you? Is something wrong?”

Akitada grimaced. “No, no. I’m well enough. I’m not used to traveling long distances on horseback anymore.”

This did not reassure Kosehira. He said, “We must get you home right away. A hot bath and a good meal, and then it’s bed for you.”

“Thank you, honored Mother.” Akitada smiled at him fondly.

They chuckled, but Kosehira simply overruled Akitada when he tried to protest the arrangements. The officials and some of the servants and porters would proceed to Otsu and the tribunal, where quarters were waiting for them. Akitada and Tora, however, would turn off to ride with Kosehira to his private villa in the foothills overlooking the town and the lake.

The villa was a sizable property with gardens and outbuildings, but Akitada saw little of it. After the promised bath and a fine meal that Akitada did little justice to, Kosehira said, “If I recall correctly, you already know Otsu.”

Akitada nodded. “Yes. I thought I might look up a few acquaintances. The Masuda affair, though it’s been ten years, is still fresh in my mind. I wonder if Warden Takechi is still here. I really liked the man.”

“I’m glad to hear you say that. Takechi is indeed still here, and a most reliable man indeed. He’s police chief now.”

Akitada was pleased and searched his mind for other names, but he was getting very sleepy. Kosehira noticed.

“More time for talk tomorrow.” he said. “I look forward to introducing the rest of my family, and then we’ll make some plans for your entertainment.” He rubbed his hands, glowing with pleasure. “I have such plans! You’ll see. I’ve dreamed of seeing you again for such a long time.”

Akitada grew speechless at this and embraced his friend again before seeking his room.

He slept well and for a long time, waking to bright sunshine and feeling quite refreshed. A small amount of soreness remained, but the hot bath had done much to deal with the effects of the long journey. Perhaps, he thought, I haven’t quite become an old man yet. He resolved to do more riding while he was here and also to practice swordsmanship with Tora to get himself back into shape.

But first things first: he was to meet Kosehira’s family and see more of the villa and then accompany his friend to provincial headquarters in town. He planned to talk to the team that was to work on the temple documents and witness statements.

As he made his way to the reception rooms, he could see that Kosehira had made his family comfortable. There were several wings facing a large garden and ample service buildings. From the galleries that linked the pavilions, one could catch enchanting glimpses of the lake and the city below while surrounded by trees and fields of rice and other crops.

He discovered that he shared the eastern wing with the male members of Kosehira’s family when he nearly collided with two small boys chasing each other. The first one merely ducked aside and kept going, but his brother stopped and bowed, flushing with embarrassment.

“Your pardon, sir. We were in a hurry because my brother forgot to wear his good robe this morning.”

“Quite all right, son,” Akitada said, smiling and wondering if some special occasion was taking place. “Where would I find your father?” he asked, as the boy started inching past him.

“Oh, he’s in the North Pavilion.”

That was awkward. The northernmost wing of a mansion was usually reserved for the owner’s wives. Akitada resolved to explore the gardens until Kosehira emerged from the company of his ladies, but the boy added over his shoulder. “He’s waiting for you. We’re to have a grand meal today.”

Akitada looked after him and shook his head. Puzzled, he left the gallery for the garden and wandered along moss covered stones in a generally northern direction. He passed a pretty pond with budding water lilies and lotus and saw trees and shrubs blossoming here and there between the pale green leaves. The greenery opened suddenly, and he stopped below a veranda with red lacquered railings and pretty lanterns suspended from the rafters. Children could be heard inside and the softer tones of women’s voices. Akitada turned away, unwilling to offend by entering his friend’s women’s quarters.

But then one of them, a very young and pretty one, looked out and saw him. “Here he is, Father,” she cried, and came out on the veranda, giving him a brilliant smile.

No blackened teeth, Akitada noted with approval, but also regrettably no shyness around strange men. He resolved to have a talk with his own daughter about proper manners for young ladies.

Kosehira joined her, also smiling brightly and waving. “There you are at last. Good morning, Elder Brother,” he shouted. “I was about to go and get you. Come up and meet my ladies and my worthless children. And then we’ll have a proper feast in your honor.”

Akitada’s heart warmed at this invitation. He was being treated like a member of the family while he was here. He went up the steps to the veranda, embraced Kosehira and then walked eagerly into a large room which was filled with women, children, and maids, and where many places were being set with pillows and food trays. When he arrived among them, they all stopped what they were doing and fell silent.

“Hatsuko, Ayako, and Chiyo, come meet Akitada,” Kosehira said. “This is the man I’ve been telling you about all these years.”

Akitada blushed and bowed to three ladies in pretty silks, the oldest his own age, but with a pleasant motherly face, the next perhaps five years younger and plump, and the third a bit younger again and elegantly thin.

Lady Hatsuko, Kosehira’s first lady, wished him welcome, apologizing for the large, noisy family. The other two bowed and smiled.

Then came the introductions of the children, starting with the handsome young men he had met the day before. “Arihito and Arikuni you remember. Arikuni is now at the university. This little one is Arihira, a very good boy, and the baby is Arimitsu.” The “baby”, somewhat out of breath and with his silk robe untied, made a face. He was at least ten and insulted.

Kosehira had not noticed. His face softened as he said, “And these are my little ladies.” He waved five young girls of assorted ages forward. “They are Kazuko, Masako, Motoko, Yoshiko, and Yukiko. No need to mark their names. You’ll see plenty of all my children while you’re here.”

Akitada was still amazed that Kosehira should have grown children. The oldest of his daughters was the one who had announced him, and she looked marriageable. He did remember her name. She was Yukiko and, given her pretty face and sparkling eyes, Akitada guessed that Kosehira would soon see her married off. Or perhaps she already was married. In many of the great families, sons-in-law moved in after marriage. But if she had a husband, he was not here this morning.

Unlike her sisters, who had bowed prettily and silently, Yukiko said, “I’m honored, sir. Our father has told us many stories about your adventures. You have become a hero to all of us.”

Akitada blushed, more furiously than earlier, and gave Kosehira a look. He said, “Thank you, Lady Yukiko, but you mustn’t believe everything you hear. I’m really a very dull fellow.”

And so he was, in truth. But so friendly was Kosehira’s family, and so lively was the children’s chatter, that he soon overcame his awkwardness and joined in the conversation as the maids, assisted by two of the younger girls, brought in a delightful meal of rice gruel with fish and vegetables, a number of elegant side dishes, as well as
mochi
, nuts, fruit, and chilled juices.