Read Online The Old Men of Omi by I. J. Parker - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: I. J. Parker
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had shrieked exactly like that. Yoshi was more given to giggling, and Yasuko had cried, “Faster! Go faster!” and belabored him with a small, pudgy hand. He missed the children and looked forward to having them come for the shrine festival. He would send Tora home today to carry the invitation and spend a night with his wife. That part of normal married life, Akitada missed most of all.
During the past year, he had gradually sought relief from several women who obliged for silver or a length of silk. They were discreet and pleasant—indeed one or two had been well educated for such women, and one had confessed to coming from a good family. This last had shocked him, but she had been matter-of-fact about her life. Her father was land-poor and had to feed a large number of children. She had become tired of never owning a silk dress, rarely having enough to eat, and not attracting any suitors except the most unsuitable ones. She liked her present life much better.
But such visits were not the same as the comfort a man found with his own wife.
The father made another turn and caught sight of Akitada. Startled, he stopped and put the child down. The boy wailed his protest.
“Don’t stop on my account,” Akitada said and went to pick up the toddler. The boy stopped crying to stare at Akitada.
“Forgive me, sir,” stammered his father. “I didn’t see you. Let me have him back. He’ll get your fine robe dirty.”
“I don’t mind. He’s a handsome boy. I used to do what you just did with my own children.” The boy got hold of Akitada’s ear and pulled, chuckling. Akitada was tempted to put him on his shoulders and start galloping but decided that his father would think him mad. He lifted the child up and down a few times, enjoying his delight, then handed him back.
“You must be Kiyoshi. The chief and I spoke with your wife earlier. I’m Lord Sugawara.”
Kiyoshi bowed deeply. “Tatsuko said a gentleman gave her silver. Was it you?”
Akitada nodded. “You have not been paid. It seemed wrong that the children should suffer because your master died.”
“We’re very grateful for this kindness. I can perhaps repay it by doing some work for you? You can see I’m very strong.”
He was indeed muscular, but Akitada had no need for more servants. He thanked him. “Perhaps instead you might talk to me about your late master?” he suggested.
“I’m at your service, but let me take my son back to his mother.”
Akitada wandered into the house, peering into rooms as he passed them. They were all empty, though furnished with thick tatami mats and amenities like candle holders, oil lamps, braziers, and small screens. Here and there, he also saw clothes racks. All of those things were of good quality and everything was very clean. The wooden floors shone. He thought of the poor young couple. Judge Nakano had certainly got his money’s worth from their services. Given the fact that Otsu provided many opportunities to earn a living, he began to wonder if Nakano had used some sort of threat to keep them in bondage.
And that, of course, would give them a motive. But a motive for what? Nakano’s death was most likely due to his age and ill health.
He returned to the study and cast another glance at the desk with its papers, fanciful writing implements, and that odd carving of Jizo. He picked it up to see if it might have an inscription, making it something like an amulet, but saw nothing.
“I’m ready now, sir.”
Akitada turned, startled. The young man was back. He was barefoot; that accounted perhaps for his silent movements. He looked curiously at the little figure in Akitada’s hand as he waited.
This room was the only one that was not painfully neat. The floor still bore all the marks of recent activity by constables and others.
The violent intrusion of strangers after a death.
“Any idea why your master had this little carving of Jizo?” Akitada asked, holding it up.
The young man shook his
During the past year, he had gradually sought relief from several women who obliged for silver or a length of silk. They were discreet and pleasant—indeed one or two had been well educated for such women, and one had confessed to coming from a good family. This last had shocked him, but she had been matter-of-fact about her life. Her father was land-poor and had to feed a large number of children. She had become tired of never owning a silk dress, rarely having enough to eat, and not attracting any suitors except the most unsuitable ones. She liked her present life much better.
But such visits were not the same as the comfort a man found with his own wife.
The father made another turn and caught sight of Akitada. Startled, he stopped and put the child down. The boy wailed his protest.
“Don’t stop on my account,” Akitada said and went to pick up the toddler. The boy stopped crying to stare at Akitada.
“Forgive me, sir,” stammered his father. “I didn’t see you. Let me have him back. He’ll get your fine robe dirty.”
“I don’t mind. He’s a handsome boy. I used to do what you just did with my own children.” The boy got hold of Akitada’s ear and pulled, chuckling. Akitada was tempted to put him on his shoulders and start galloping but decided that his father would think him mad. He lifted the child up and down a few times, enjoying his delight, then handed him back.
“You must be Kiyoshi. The chief and I spoke with your wife earlier. I’m Lord Sugawara.”
Kiyoshi bowed deeply. “Tatsuko said a gentleman gave her silver. Was it you?”
Akitada nodded. “You have not been paid. It seemed wrong that the children should suffer because your master died.”
“We’re very grateful for this kindness. I can perhaps repay it by doing some work for you? You can see I’m very strong.”
He was indeed muscular, but Akitada had no need for more servants. He thanked him. “Perhaps instead you might talk to me about your late master?” he suggested.
“I’m at your service, but let me take my son back to his mother.”
Akitada wandered into the house, peering into rooms as he passed them. They were all empty, though furnished with thick tatami mats and amenities like candle holders, oil lamps, braziers, and small screens. Here and there, he also saw clothes racks. All of those things were of good quality and everything was very clean. The wooden floors shone. He thought of the poor young couple. Judge Nakano had certainly got his money’s worth from their services. Given the fact that Otsu provided many opportunities to earn a living, he began to wonder if Nakano had used some sort of threat to keep them in bondage.
And that, of course, would give them a motive. But a motive for what? Nakano’s death was most likely due to his age and ill health.
He returned to the study and cast another glance at the desk with its papers, fanciful writing implements, and that odd carving of Jizo. He picked it up to see if it might have an inscription, making it something like an amulet, but saw nothing.
“I’m ready now, sir.”
Akitada turned, startled. The young man was back. He was barefoot; that accounted perhaps for his silent movements. He looked curiously at the little figure in Akitada’s hand as he waited.
This room was the only one that was not painfully neat. The floor still bore all the marks of recent activity by constables and others.
The violent intrusion of strangers after a death.
“Any idea why your master had this little carving of Jizo?” Akitada asked, holding it up.
The young man shook his
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