Free The Dragon Scroll by I. J. Parker Page A

suspicion has fallen on him.”
     
    Seimei sighed and said, “You see? Even His August Majesty is not exempt from misfortune. Truly, when the moon is full, it begins to wane. Anything more from your lady mother?”
     
    “No. Just more of the same: she expects me to remember my duty to the family.”
     
    ♦
     
    The supper party took place in the governor’s private residence, in a small room decorated with elegant landscape paintings. Under carved and painted rafters a dais had been covered with thick mats trimmed in black and white silk and screened off from drafts by brocaded reed blinds on lacquered stands. Five men sat there in the light of tall candelabra, talking animatedly and sipping wine.
     
    An abrupt silence fell when Akitada approached.
     
    Motosuke, in a pale red brocade robe over underrobes in many shades from copper to peach, rose with a broad smile. He led Akitada to the seat of honor on his right and introduced his guests.
     
    “This is His Excellency, the previous governor, Tachibana Masaie,” he said, indicating a gaunt old man. Tachibana, who was seated across from Akitada, had a thin white beard and tired eyes.
     
    Akitada bowed and said, “I am deeply sorry that I was not aware of Your Excellency’s presence here or I would have paid my respects before now.”
     
    The old gentleman returned the bow, smiled vaguely, but did not speak.
     
    “This province is honored by His Excellency’s decision to remain after his term expired,” Motosuke said nervously. “He is a great scholar and engaged in writing the local history.”
     
    “I shall look forward to being instructed by Your Excellency,” Akitada murmured, thinking what a fine cover such an existence would be for a remunerative criminal organization.
     
    Tachibana smiled again without replying. His gnarled fingers absently traced the shell design on his deep blue robe.
     
    “And this is His Reverence, Master Joto, the abbot of our great Temple of Fourfold Wisdom,” Motosuke continued, clearly uncomfortable at the ex-governor’s apparent lack of interest in the imperial inspector in their midst.
     
    The abbot had been given the other seat of honor, to his host’s left. Joto was young for such an eminent position—somewhere in his late thirties. The idea that he might be a younger son of one of the great families crossed Akitada’s mind. Another Fujiwara, perhaps? More possibilities of conspiracies. Since the religious life required cutting family ties and bestowed new names on its members, it would be difficult to find out. Akitada did not like the Buddhist clergy at the best of times and noted cynically that this man, like his rowdy disciples in town, looked strong and well fed. No ascetic life for him! The shaven head and smooth face showed the purple shadow of heavy hair growth, and the full, almost feminine lips were red and moist. His clerical garb also was of the finest materials, a richly embroidered stole draped over a white silk robe with broad black borders. On one wrist he wore prayer beads of pink crystal.
     
    Raising his eyes from the abbot’s finery to his face, Akitada met large, hooded eyes that regarded him fixedly. To cover his embarrassment, he said quickly, “Your Reverence’s learning has attracted an impressive following in Kazusa. I am indeed fortunate to make the acquaintance of such an inspired teacher of the Buddha’s word.”
     
    “Worldly fame has no more substance than the mist that hangs in the mountains before sunrise.” Joto had a beautiful, resonant voice. It lent religious fervor to his words. They locked eyes, and Akitada knew he was being mocked. Then Joto lowered his lids.
     
    “And you have already met the captain and Ikeda, I understand,” Motosuke said, waving at the remaining two guests and saving Akitada a reply. Akitada nodded to the handsome young officer, in plain civilian garb tonight, and to the prefect, who was wearing a modest dark blue silk gown. He thought Ikeda,