Kenji looked unhappy. “I know. Not much time . . . in all meanings of the word. Well, time is an illusion, so believing one has enough of it is also an illusion.”
“What do you think of these recent events?” I asked.
“By which, I assume, you are referring to the
inugami
, and our uncertainty as to its intended victim—though I think we can guess—or who would desire such a thing, or why. One educated guess and two complete unknowns. It is troubling.”
Something had been hovering on the edge of my mind, and Kenji’s assessment of the situation finally helped me put it into words. “Kenji-san, if the Fujiwara desired someone’s death, how do you think it would be arranged?”
“By stealth. A dagger in the dark, poison in one’s drink, an unknown malady that carries one away despite the healer’s prayers. While they are quite capable of open attack through proxies when the situation warrants, most of the time they prefer more subtle methods.”
“Precisely. What about this speaks of the Fujiwara to you?”
“Nothing at all,” he said. “Nor can I even begin to think of a reason they could possibly have to desire it.”
I was having some trouble in that regard myself. “Yet, for the sake of consideration, let us suppose there was a reason for the Fujiwara to desire Tagako’s death. It would have to be some reason of recent origin, since during the years she served as high priestess, they would have had plenty of opportunity to strike at her at a time of their choosing. Is this not so?”
“It is,” he said, frowning. “Go on.”
“Also, the reason would have nothing to do with her imminent return to the Capital, since the declining health of his late Majesty was known for some time, so they’ve had opportunity before now. Also true?”
“One would think so,” he said.
“That would also imply the Fujiwara were caught off guard by this development, this danger to their interests, with the need to mitigate the danger, whatever it might be, very acute and immediate. What sort of threat would fit that description?”
“Any threat or potential threat to their political hegemony,” Kenji said. “You know as well as I their power and prestige are almost all they care about.”
After my meeting with Fujiwara no Yorinobu, I was prepared to concede Kenji’s “almost.” Even for such as the Fujiwara, family dynamics were sometimes in the ascendant and larger concerns neglected. That appeared to be the case now, and I hoped it would continue long enough to secure the emperor’s position and throne.
“Agreed. And if they were caught off guard with the need to act in haste?”
Kenji smiled. “Then we might have seen the result last night. You’ve forged a reasonably solid chain here, Lord Yamada, but the first links are still the weakest—we don’t know for certain the Fujiwara are involved in any way or even that the soon to be former priestess is the true target.”
“All true. Yet we must assume so until proven otherwise.”
“That is no more than common sense and may even keep us alive,” Kenji said. “But it gets us no closer to an answer.”
“If we do not remain alive, the answer will no longer be of any concern. Or rather, not to us.”
The next morning we were scheduled to depart Heijo-kyo for Uji. I had some experience at Uji. Although nobles at the court had used it as the site of their “country estates” for many years, not very long ago it had been infested by bandits and only recently brought to heel by the current provincial governor. Even so, my memories of the place were not fond ones, and I felt it especially wise to be on our guard. I went looking for Morofusa only to find him sitting on a fallen guardian statue beside the temple, looking pensive.
“What has happened?”
“You haven’t heard? No, certainly not. It’s not the sort of thing one would expect one of your station to be concerned about. Forgive me, I will see to my duties—”
“
Shōshō
, I did ask what had happened. I was not merely being polite.”
Morofusa slid from the statue and dropped to his knees. “Your pardon, Lord Yamada. I received word just this morning that Harutada, the
shōshō
of our Montoku Minamoto escort, has been executed.”
I scowled. “Executed? Why?”
Morofusa looked up. “The order came from the provincial governor, and the charge was ‘disobedience.’ That is all I know.”
“What could he have done in such a short time to warrant this?” Only after a moment I realized I’d asked the question aloud.
“It is very strange,” Morofusa said. “I admit to being cautious around the Montoku group, and to keeping my eyes on them, but nothing happened during their part of the journey to cause me concern, nor did I notice any misbehavior within their ranks. I would have questioned some of the men under his command, but they have all been withdrawn, as you know. The nature of Harutada’s crime puzzles me.”
Me, as well.
I considered for a moment seeking an audience with the governor, but I could think of no justification for inquiring into an incident of internal discipline. I turned to Morofusa. “We will next travel to Uji, then travel southwest to a village on Osaka Bay for Princess Tagako’s final duty as
saiō
before we return to Uji and then on to Kyoto, correct?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“That still leaves us two days or more within the governor’s jurisdiction. If you see anyone in our former escort or otherwise have the chance to find out more details, please let me know.”
“I will,” he said. Morofusa then departed to meet with Akimasa. I stood by the fallen statue for some time.
Of course I knew the timing of the Montoku Genji’s
shōshō
’s execution might have had nothing to do with recent events. I knew that coincidences did happen, yet over the years I had learned to be skeptical of them. I saw the reason for Harutada’s execution as one more piece of information I did not possess, and only when I did possess it could I judge its importance.
We reached Uji early that afternoon. Princess Tagako was quartered in one of the country estates of the imperial family, but allowances had been made to keep her escort in close proximity, as the official in charge of the household, a balding older man named Katanori, informed me upon arrival. I had been concerned, worried the escort would be confined to guard duty outside the compound with no chance of intercepting an assassin already within the grounds. But not only were Morofusa and Akimasa’s
bushi
allowed inside, there were quarters clearly designed to accommodate large groups of warriors, and they were given free rein to arrange their watches and patrols to their own satisfaction. The Taira
bushi
previously assigned to secure the household were placed entirely under our command for the duration of Princess Tagako’s stay—likely to their annoyance—upon the orders of the master of the house. Given my previous concerns, I asked Katanori to whom we owed such accommodation.
“Prince Kanemore,” he said. “I crave your pardon, Lord Yamada. I thought you knew.”
No, I had not known. And aside from the information that this estate belonged to Prince Kanemore, I now knew something else as well, something I had not known before. I asked Kenji to take a walk with me in the garden. When we stood in the center of it, well out of earshot of anyone, I told Kenji what I had discovered and, more to the point, what I thought it meant. He was silent for several long moments, and when he finally spoke I could tell he was hesitant to state what we now both knew.
“I share your interpretation of Prince Kanemore’s instructions to his steward. This was no simple honor guard, not even from the first,” he said. “Prince Kanemore clearly knew that someone in the procession, likely the
saiō
herself, but definitely
someone’s
life was in danger.”
“It is the only reasonable conclusion. Else there would be no need for the additional security measures which we were allowed to arrange,” I said.
“And nothing that Lady Kuzunoha, or the princess herself, conveyed to you even hinted at this?”
I recalled my past conversations with both women as carefully and thoroughly as I could but came up empty. “Nothing. Not a hint, nothing at all.”
Kenji scratched his chin. “Yet we must also conclude the original reason itself, the one that set us on the road to Ise in the first place, was not the real one.”
“I suspect as much, though a possible Fujiwara campaign against Go-Sanjo’s principal wife and eldest son must remain a possibility.”
“Meaning only that the threat you were told of originally was plausible enough to rouse you to action.”
I sighed. “The thought had occurred to me.”
“Lord Yamada, I confess myself more baffled than ever. We didn’t even realize, until the first attempt with the
inugami
, there was danger.”
“True, but from the first day we acted as if there might be, because this is our expectation,” I said. “Kanemore knows me—and us. I think he trusted us to rise to the occasion.”
“A warning would have been far more effective,” Kenji muttered.
“Perhaps.”
I had been turning the subject over and over in my head, and something I had just said was triggering another understanding.
“We acted as we did because that is our nature,” I said.
“You just said that, more or less,” Kenji said. “Why are you repeating yourself?”
“Because I think I touched on something significant. If Prince Kanemore had told us, for example, that Tagako was in danger, then I would want to know
why
she was in danger.”
“Assuming she is the target, you want to know that now,” Kenji said dryly.
“Of course I do, but what if I had first heard of possible danger from Kanemore himself? What if he had said that from the start, either through Kuzunoha or Tagako?”
“Then you would have known he knew the reason, and who the intended target was, two things we still do not know. Naturally enough you would ask what those were, would you not? Anyone else might just accept Kanemore’s orders without question, but no, not you. You would have to know
why.
The only obvious answer is that he
did not want to tell you the reason
,” Kenji said. “I cannot imagine why this would be the case, but there it is. He could have just told you it was a secret, or made up some excuse.”
“Which would have doubtless worked?” I asked, trying not to smile.
Kenji admitted defeat. “Prince Kanemore knows you
too
well. Of course it wouldn’t have worked, so we must assume we were summoned under false pretenses. Do you think Kuzunoha knew all along? Or Princess Tagako?”
“There would be no reason to tell Kuzunoha, since it was outside the scope of her mission. As for Tagako, well, it is the prime requirement of any courtier to lie easily and well, so I concede the possibility. But I do not think so.”
Kenji nodded. “Unless I have misjudged her terribly, nor do I.”
I hesitated. “There is one more thing—all we have discussed, assuming we are on the right path, depends on our understanding Prince Kanemore has known both of us long enough to predict our behavior, correct?”
“Yes,” Kenji said. “What is your point?”
“Just this: everything that has happened since we left Kamakura points to the reality that, as difficult as our part may be, we are simply two pieces of a very complex puzzle, and the orchestration of such a puzzle
does not fit what I know of Prince Kanemore.
”
Kenji could not have looked more stunned if I had grown an extra head. “Are . . . are you saying our instructions did not come from the prince?”
I doused that fire immediately. “Impossible. Only Prince Kanemore could have prevailed upon Lady Kuzunoha to deliver his message. What I am saying is that Prince Kanemore is not acting alone. There are more people involved, I do not claim to know who, but this is much greater than we imagined.”
“So what does this mean?”
It meant that, once we reached Kyoto, I was going to need a very long conversation with a very old friend. Yet, in order for that to happen, first we had to reach Kyoto alive.
“It means if we die before we reach the Capital, my ghost is going to haunt Prince Kanemore until he comes up with a very convincing explanation.”
While we were still in the garden, one of Princess Tagako’s servants, a girl probably no more than twelve years old, found us.
“Her Highness desires your attendance,” she said, very seriously. “Would you please follow me?”
Kenji and I exchanged glances. “There’s a small temple located within the compound,” Kenji said. “I think I’d like to see it.”
He left us; I followed the girl back to the main hall, but we didn’t stop there. She led me through the hall and out the back to a smaller courtyard. This was an area normally reserved for the owner’s family. There Tagako’s attendants had set up a small pavilion with gossamer netting for the sides. The servant directed me to a cushion set just outside the veil and then withdrew to the rear veranda. There were a few other attendants there, but so far as I could see, Tagako was in the pavilion alone.
“You summoned me, Highness?” I asked.
She sounded surprised. “I said I desired your presence,” she said. “Is that the same thing?”
I smiled. “For a princess of the royal house? I would say so.”
“In a way, that is why I wanted to speak to you. I said once I was nothing, and you were polite enough to demur. Yet I am beginning to wonder if you were serious. I am not blind, Lord Yamada—I have taken note of the measures Master Kenji and you have taken on my behalf since the . . . incident. You still believe someone wants to harm me?”
“I did not mean to worry you in our previous conversation, Highness. I was merely hoping you could shed light on the current situation. I can discover no reason anyone would wish you harm, yet there is much going on here I do not understand. I think you can see why we must be cautious.”
“I wish I could enlighten you, but I am at a loss. I did receive some communication from Kanemore through Kuzunoha, as I told you, but she conveyed
only
what I told you. I will admit, a fox demon is an odd choice for messenger, but I am sure he had his reasons.”