“My father almost managed it once,” Sukemichi said, “but then there was a murder here, and the investigation dragged on. In the end, the court canceled.”
Akitada’s ears sharpened. “A murder?” he asked.
Sukemichi looked a little embarrassed. “I wasn’t here at the time. I was still a student at the university.”
Kosehira made polite noises and asked a few questions about falconry, but Akitada did not bother. They were handsome birds in spite of their dangerous manner, but he hoped he would not be expected to carry one of them to the hunt scheduled for the next day.
Nakahara joined them soon after. He appeared to be in his sixties, was fat, pale-skinned, and had a mustache and goatee. After greeting Sukemichi and Kosehira effusively, he turned to Akitada. “What a great pleasure, Sugawara,” he said, smiling. “I have looked forward to this with great anticipation. Are you still solving murder cases? I recall the whole capital was abuzz when you unmasked that insane painter who had been carving up his victims.”
Akitada did not like to be reminded of that case. He had nearly lost his life when he went after the man who had abducted his little son Yori. He shuddered in retrospect and said, “Thank you, but my involvement was personal. The praise should go to the police who ultimately saved countless lives.”
They parted company to retreat to their rooms and prepare for the festive dinner planned for that evening. Akitada feared more conversation about his past and began to feel resentful toward Kosehira for involving him in this visit. Nevertheless, he dressed with care before making his appearance in the room designated for the dinner. The others were already there, wearing their fine robes and chatting about the next day’s hunt.
“It’s late in the season,” explained Sukemichi. “Hunting with hawks is mostly done in winter, but I thought it might be a pleasant entertainment for my friends, and as it happens we need to send some pheasants to the palace.”
They were served roasted pheasant for their dinner, along with excellent fish from Lake Biwa and fresh vegetables. Sukemichi’s wine was also superior, and Akitada mellowed considerably. Besides, the conversation concerned the pheasant reserve and Sukemichi’s passion for hawks.
“My father taught me,” he said. “He was a superb falconer. He also hunted with bow and arrow out of falcon season. For both types of hunting we have men go through the scrub land with sticks to scare out the birds. After that, they can be hunted either with bow and arrow or with hawks.” He eyed his guests. “I have good horses. If you gentlemen would like to try your hand at hunting with bow and arrow, we can arrange this also.”
Akitada said firmly, “Not on my account. I haven’t shot an arrow in many years.”
Kosehira laughed. “We’ll settle for watching the falcons do the work. How do you train them?”
“Oh, my takajo does that. Though I buy most of my birds already trained. A trained bird will take down its prey and return to its master’s hand where it is given a treat for good work. The dogs fetch the kill.”
The pheasant meat was tasty, and Akitada thought the hunt might prove interesting after all. Not much seemed to be required of him besides his presence and praise. He asked, “So this practice has been going on here since long before your time?”
Sukemichi glanced across at Nakahara. “My father was the first in our family. It was an imperial appointment. After his death, the office passed to me. At first, my father had some trouble establishing himself among the locals. There were factions that supported another man, and they tried everything to blacken my father’s character. Fortunately, he prevailed against his detractors.”
The conversation turned to the proper preparation of pheasant. Akitada listened with half an ear. He thought the comment about Sukemichi’s father and his troubles interesting. Information about the local people might throw a light on the murders of the two old men. When there was a lull in the chatter, he said, “Perhaps you can tell me something about the village Okuni. It’s nearby, I think. What are the people like?”
Sukemichi looked surprised. “Oh, it’s just a small place. Insignificant. Mostly rice farmers live there, and a few of our retainers and staff. It’s pleasant enough, but up in the hills. The terrain is too awkward for hunting, but people aren’t allowed to live on the reserve, so they built their houses there and carved out some rice paddies. The older people work the farms, while their children work for me or for the reserve. Why are you interested?”
“I heard they had two unexplained deaths recently. The victims died within days of each other. Both were old men on their way home after drinking.”
Sukemichi nodded. “Yes, it’s true. One was murdered. The other fell down the mountain because he was drunk. Drinking is a problem among some of the locals. But I’m surprised that you take an interest in peasants.” He paused and frowned. “Come to think of it, I believe both used to work for my father and were given land when they left his service. The one who was murdered had also been drinking. Peasants tend to get carried away by festivals and cheap wine, and violence isn’t unheard of under those circumstances. I doubt that the deaths merit your attention.”
Kosehira chuckled. “Akitada takes an interest in all kinds of cases. And I promise you, if he starts poking around, he finds out the most shocking things.”
The two other men smiled politely, but it seemed clear that they thought Akitada an eccentric and expected little excitement from the death of two old peasants.
The meal ended in the customary manner, with more wine consumed on the veranda where they had a fine view of the moonlit landscape stretching into the distance under a starry sky.
Later, when Akitada and Kosehira walked to the room they shared in the guest pavilion, Kosehira said, “You know, that business about Sukemichi’s father having had some troubles after his appointment reminded me that someone accused him of having murdered a guest. It was just ill will. They caught the killer.”
Akitada raised his brows. “You don’t say? What happened?”
“I don’t recall. But it was all very unpleasant until the betto confessed. It seems the guest had become too familiar with his daughter. It was shocking behavior by the guest, of course.”
Akitada winced. It was an ugly tale and nothing to do with him. He had quite properly avoided an entanglement with Kosehira’s daughter.
But the image of Yukiko haunted him that night.
Chapter Twenty
The Hunt
As they were dressing in their hunting clothes the following morning, Kosehira observed, “You know, this business about favors owed and commitments bringing about mutual advantages, reminds me that there are better bonds, such as friendship and ties by marriage. You and I, we shall always rely on each other, I hope.”
Akitada looked up from tying his trousers. “Well said. I’m very fond of you, Kosehira. That will never change. You have always supported me, even when doing so was very unpopular. But more than that, your cheerfulness lifts my dark spirits amazingly. Thank you, brother.”
Kosehira looked embarrassed. “Not at all, brother. And didn’t you come to my aid when I was accused of high treason?”
Akitada laughed. “Let’s just say we try to look out for each other, which is as it should be.”
“Yes,” said Kosehira and reached for his boots. “And that will always be true even without family ties.”