Free Cloud of Sparrows by Takashi Matsuoka

existence of the clan itself threatened, he was playing some silly game.
    “The opportunity has never presented itself, lord,” Hidé said.
    Saiki said, “The truth is, Hidé has an excessive fondness for women, wine, and gambling. His debts are such that no one of good family would even consider the burden of marriage with him.” Saiki gave the information to hurry things along. Then perhaps they could return to more pressing matters. The extremely suspicious outsider Stark, for example.
    “What is your debt?” Genji asked.
    Hidé hesitated. “Sixty ryo, lord.” That was a massive sum for one of his station. His annual stipend was ten ryo.
    “Undisciplined idiot,” Saiki said.
    “Yes, sir.” Hidé pressed his head to the floor once more, genuinely mortified.
    “Your debts will be discharged,” Genji said. “See to it that you do not accumulate new ones. In fact, now that you are solvent, I advise you to immediately find a wife. Someone with household experience, so she may guide you in remaining solvent, and show you the ways of domestic bliss.”
    “Lord.” Hidé remained down in the deepest possible bow. Lord Genji’s generosity astounded him.
    “In fact, I myself will look into it for you,” Genji said. “Will you trust me in this matter?”
    “Yes, lord. Thank you.”
    “Hanako,” Genji said, “show these men to another room where they may recover from their recent exertions. Remain there to serve them.”
    “Yes,” Hanako said. Bowing gracefully, she led Hidé and Shimoda from the room.
    When they were gone, Saiki made a deep formal bow of respect to Genji. At last he understood what had taken place. In the midst of a crisis that could take his life, Lord Genji had not ceased to think of those in his care. The housemaid, Hanako, was an orphan. Despite her good manners and womanly charm, she was highly unlikely to find a worthy match on her own. She had no family connections to offer, and no dowry. Hidé, an excellent samurai in most respects, needed the weight of responsibility in order to fully mature. Left to himself, he would continue to squander his time and his money on worthless diversions. In the end, he would be a useless sot, like so many of the samurai of the other, degenerate clans, and not a few of their own. All this Lord Genji had cured with a single stroke. Tears came to the gruff warrior’s eyes.
    “What’s this, Saiki? Have I died and become a deity?”
    “Lord,” Saiki said, too deeply moved to speak further, unable even to bring his head from the floor. Once again, he had misjudged the depth of his lord’s character.
    Genji reached for his teacup. The other maid, Michiko, bowed and refilled it. She was already married, so Genji smiled at her, but gave her no further thought. He drank his tea and waited patiently for Saiki to recover. Samurai were strange creatures. They were expected to endure the most atrocious physical tortures without a single complaint. Yet they felt free to weep when they witnessed nothing more serious than the beginnings of a marriage arrangement.
    After a time, Saiki raised his head and roughly brushed away his tears with a single sweep of his kimono’s sleeve. “Lord, you must consider the possibility that the missionaries are somehow involved in the plot against you.”
    “If there is a plot.”
    “The one called Stark anticipated the firing of the assassin’s gun. I saw him diving for cover before I called out. That means he knew the man was there.”
    “Or it means he is highly observant.” Genji shook his head. “It is good to be on guard against treachery. But there is such a thing as seeing too much treachery everywhere. We must not let our imaginings distract us from real danger. Stark has only just arrived from America. There are assassins enough in Japan. Who would go through the complication of bringing one from outside?”
    “Perhaps someone who wishes to obscure any hint of his identity with an additional veil of