Akitada thought of Nagaoka handling the mask the day he had visited. Could he have known the actors at the temple? Could he have paid some starving entertainer to murder his wife and make it look as though his brother had done it?
They parted at the gate. The weather was still depressing. Dense, low clouds and a leaden atmosphere hung over the city. Now and then a snowflake drifted down, settled on the mud of the roadway, and melted.
Akitada remembered miserably what awaited him at home.
THIRTEEN
Actors and Acrobats
“Genba!”
Tora walked purposefully toward the small group at the end of the training hall. Genba’ swung around to stare at him. “How’d you get here?” he demanded in an unfriendly tone.
Tora ignored the question and bowed to the enthroned Miss Plumblossom. “I beg your pardon for interrupting, madam,” he said with an ingratiating grin, “My name is Tora. I see my friend got here before me.”
The fat woman moved her fan slowly back and forth in front of her large chest and eyed Tora’s fine figure and good looks with approval. “Not at all. You are welcome, Tora. What brought you here?”
“Your fame, madam. I heard about you in one of the wine houses on the river, from a big fellow who goes by the name of Bull and happens to be a fellow countryman of mine. He couldn’t say enough about you and this establishment, so I made my way here in spite of the late hour and the snowstorm.” Tora gave her his widest smile and added, “And now that I’m here, believe me, it was worth it to behold your charming face!”
Genba snorted with disgust, but Miss Plumblossom tittered and toyed with one of the red ribbons in her hair. “What a prettily spoken fellow your friend is, Genba.” Her voice was girlishly high and she lisped a little, but Tora got a closer look at her face and doubted that she would see forty again. She wore paint on her face and rouge on her cheeks, and her eyes were outlined with lampblack, which had seeped into tiny wrinkles and laugh lines. Only the makeup and the giggle suggested her past as a famed acrobat.
Genba growled, “Don’t waste your time with him, Miss Plumblossom. He’s the biggest liar in town.”
Miss Plumblossom frowned. “Oh? So you disagree with him? Well, that was certainly not prettily said!” she remarked tartly, and sniffed.
Genba colored and shot Tora an angry look. “No, no! You— you misunderstood,” he stammered, “That’s not what he—” He broke off helplessly. Miss Plumblossom had already turned her back to him.
“Well,” she said to Tora, peering flirtatiously over the top of her fan, “and what precisely did you come for, Tora?”
Tora glanced at Genba, wondering how much he had given away about them while in the throes of his infatuation with this female. Genba compressed his lips and glared back.
“Apart from your charms, you mean?” Tora asked the lady.
“Silly man!” She fluttered her fan at him and then hid her face coyly behind it.
Tora almost burst into laughter. “Well, as I said, I was just chatting with Bull and happened to mention how rusty I was getting”—Tora glanced about the room for inspiration and saw the bamboo fighting sticks in their racks—”at stick fighting. That’s when he mentioned you. I was a bit surprised that a lady should be in this sort of business, but he said yours is one of the best training halls in the city. I had to come see for myself. One rarely encounters both business sense and talent in a beautiful woman, madam.” Tora made her another bow.
“You may address me as ‘miss,’ “ remarked Miss Plumblossom, patting the coils of her hair. “I’m a single girl.” She shot him a glance to see his reaction.
He grinned. “Really? What blind fools some men are! Or maybe your superior talent frightened them away?”
She giggled. “Flatterer! Though you’re not wrong. When I was still a working girl, my career took up all my time. Love interferes with training. Acrobats need the self-control of champion wrestlers or archers. So I abstained. It was hard. Very hard, in fact, because mine is a hot-blooded nature.” She sighed. “In the end it ruined my career. One day, when I performed at court, there was this particular gentleman, a gentleman of such august station and such romantic looks… No, I won’t say more, except he was most persistent!” She smiled and raised her fan to hide her blushes.
“Ah.” Tora nodded. “A humble person like myself may only admire from a distance what the august personage desired.” And that would be easy, thought Tora, casting appraising glances at the young women cavorting about the room. There was hardly a plain one in sight.
“Naturally,” said Miss Plumblossom, lowering her fan, “I am a woman of high principles, and this is a respectable business. I have to set a good example for the profession.” She waved a pudgy hand in the direction of the lithe acrobats and dancers. “If you’d like to come for a workout, you’re welcome, but I won’t have anything improper going on. Understood?”
Tora humbly promised to behave himself. Her face softened. She smiled, patted her coils some more, and added, “Trouble is, none of the yokels I employ is much good at stick fighting. I suppose I’ll have to do it myself. I don’t suppose you’re an actor?”
Tora had been listening with only half an ear, wondering how to introduce the subject of the actors. “Oh, no,” he said quickly. “Ex-military man. At the moment I hire myself out to gentlemen who want protection, so I have to stay in shape.”
Miss Plumblossom nodded and pursed her lips. “A good business, that,” she said. “The streets are not safe anymore for men or women. It’s scandalous that the authorities allow depraved creatures to roam about freely. Well, Tora, I’ll try to accommodate you, though stick fighting is not my specialty. Say, once a week, an hour each time, for a hundred coppers each?”
Tora was momentarily speechless. Had this obese lump of female flesh offered to instruct him in the art of stick fighting? And at such a price? The idea that he might have to face this huge woman in front of people appalled him. He would be laughed out of town.
She misunderstood his dismay. “Oh, very well,” she said. “I suppose you’re broke like all the rest. Pay me fifty coppers whenever you have some money.” She stood up. “How about a small sample right now?”
Tora backed away. “No, no,” he said desperately. “You are too kind, but I couldn’t possibly impose on you tonight. You’re all dressed up in that pretty robe and ribbons. Some other time I’d be deeply honored.”
“Nonsense,” she snapped, and untied the sash about her wide middle, dropping it on the floor. A quick shrug disposed of the black silk robe, which puddled about her ankles. Like the girl acrobats, she wore only a loincloth underneath. Tora looked away quickly and saw a young woman in a blue cotton robe with a white fan pattern bending to gather up the clothes, fold them, and place them on the chair. Her face was averted, but Tora noted that she had a supple narrow waist and rounded hips under the simple cotton robe, and her hair, tied with a white bow, was long and glossy as silk. The maid was a great deal more promising than the mistress, he thought, and turned his startled eyes back to Miss Plumblossom.
The loincloth was covered with a little red tasseled silk apron in front. It did nothing to hide the large breasts and a belly of magnificent proportions. As he stared, she raised her arms to her hair and, lifting the beribboned coils from a shaven head, handed the stiffly lacquered wig to the maid. Then she stepped off the dais, and walked past him with all the nonchalance of a male wrestler. Her legs were short, but the thighs rose massively to huge, dimpled buttocks, which in turn joined a broad back and thick arms. In spite of her gender, she was built like a male wrestler. Tora glanced at Genba, hoping that the sight had cured him of his infatuation, but found instead that his friend was watching her with a besotted expression.