Spring Festival in Akaiwa: Akitada Mysteries, #23

By I. J. Parker

A governor's life is not an easy one. It is spring when everything starts going wrong for Akitada. The town is full of unruly festival visitors, three brutal murders remain unsolved because the suspects depart, and two rice merchants plot to defraud his administration. When his own trusted retainer rebels and embarks on a murderous vendetta, complaints multiply and Akitada faces not only dismissal but his family turns against him. In a desperate attempt to redeem himself, he risks not only his career but his life.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ingrid J. Parker Inc.
• Release date: Sep 18, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223307945

Book preview

1

The Dwarf

The two men sat on the bench, basking in the sun outside a wine shop.  Don’t you love a pretty spring day like this? asked the bearded man in military half armor.

No! His companion glowered at the crowds milling about in the market.

Both men were middle-aged, or perhaps a little older. The soldier’s beard was mostly gray, while his companion had clearly led a long and painful life. He was thin and his bearded face was so heavily scarred that it resembled a mangy cat’s coat. On the seat between them rested a wine flask and two cups.

The soldier chuckled. Drink up, brother! The sun is warm and the wine is good for a change. And it’s the spring festival.

More trouble for us, grumbled the other. All those people from the gods know where! They’ll get drunk and kill each other. Just wait and see.

Oh, come, Saburo. There’ll be things to see and do. Masashi is excited to see the fun.

Masashi was Saburo’s adopted son. The two men served Lord Sugawara, the current governor. Tora, the soldier, was in command of the tribunal guard, while Saburo was the tribunal secretary.

I won’t have time to take him. Saburo drained his cup and sighed. Too much paperwork. The boy spends all his time with the women.

Look at that! Tora leaned forward and pointed. That boy over there is not much older than Masashi. How does a six-year-old do that?

A small figure in bright red trousers and jacket was doing somersaults and flips on the road. People paused to watch and laugh as the small figure bounced and twisted with an energy and facility that made him look more like an agitated squirrel than a human.

Saburo spat disgustedly. That’s no child. That‘s a dwarf. You must be going blind.

Tora squinted, his head cocked. Then he grinned. So it is! A dwarf! I love dwarves. What fun! Look! He’s got a pretty little lady with him.

A young girl of normal size had joined the acrobat. Her pants and jacket were also red but lavishly decorated with silk flowers. She passed among the watching people with a wooden bowl. Coppers could be heard clinking into it.

"Kugutsu,said Saburo with a scowl. A large troupe is staying at the temple."

Oh, joy! They’ll have players. I love a good play. And I really love slapstick. We’ll have to go while they’re here.

Look at that, Saburo said, half rising. The little bastard just snatched that man’s purse. I bet he cut it off his belt.

Tora looked and saw a well-dressed man pause and check his belt. He grinned. He just noticed, he said.

But he was alone. Saburo had flung himself into the moving throng of visitors and locals. Tora sighed and got up. A waiter appeared immediately. Tora paid for their wine and ambled after Saburo.

His companion had gone in the direction of the Temple of the Four Noble Truths, a complex of buildings on the side of Yuga-san, a small mountain to the west of the provincial capital Okayama. On top of that hill was a shrine sacred to the deity of the mountain but the line of red torii leading to it was hidden by trees. You could see the pagoda of the temple quite clearly from below.

Both shrine and temple would be busy this holiday. Every spring, the time of renewal, the shrine gods must be asked to protect the rice harvest and avert disasters and diseases from the province. People took the season and their religious duties seriously and set out on journeys to pray and enjoy the good weather, as well as any entertainment that was on offer. They brought money with them and they needed places to stay and food to eat. Temples, shrines, and towns were all equally eager to attract as many visitors as possible.  And as there was a good deal of competition between temples, they often hired traveling entertainers to make the festival particularly memorable.

The festival visitors strolled and mingled with the local people. Tora looked for Saburo, but he had disappeared in the crowd and was probably already too far ahead. The dwarf had made tracks and Saburo was no longer as agile as in his youth. Tora glanced up toward the temple. Saburo had once been a monk. You would think he would approve of festivals. They brought worshippers. But Saburo’s experiences had been particularly painful and he had become bitter.

Tora saw no need to rush after Saburo. He sniffed the air. Fried shrimp! And there was the vendor. Tora approached and eyed the sizzling tidbits in the oil-filled kettle the vendor tended over his small portable container of glowing coals.

Very fresh! the man chanted. I caught them myself only this morning.

Tora doubted that. It was not yet noon and they were a few miles from the coast. But he dug out his money. How much for ten? he asked.

For you, General, only a piece of silver.

Wearing half armor and a sword tended to drive up the prices. Tora said, You’re a cheating bastard! Half and you’ve got a deal.

The vendor muttered but took the money and presented the shrimp, wrapped in a large cabbage leaf.

Tora strolled on, munching. The shrimp were good. Up ahead, he noticed some people laughing and pointing. When he got closer, he found Saburo sitting on the grassy verge beside the road, holding his crotch, and moaning.

What happened, brother? Tora put another succulent shrimp in his mouth and sat down beside him.

That cursed devil kicked me just when I had my hands on him.

Tora laughed.

I’ll kill the misshapen goblin. Right after the police arrest him.

Oh, don’t do that. People won’t like it. Here, have a shrimp.

Saburo waved away the offering. We have to make an example. These thieving bands of homeless crooks don’t work like decent people and they don’t pay taxes. No, they steal from our people and then move quickly to the next province before we can throw them in jail. I’m sick of the entire tribe of them. They think they can do a few tricks and we owe them a living in return. And they steal people’s children and raise them to cheat others. The girls become their whores and sell themselves to the customers.

Tora winced. He tossed the empty cabbage leaf away. Come along, brother. Time to get you back to the tribunal. You’re not safe around people.

Saburo said nothing and allowed himself to be pulled upright. He walked away awkwardly.

Shouts and rude comments followed them as they turned back toward the city.

Back in the market, they passed the stands of sellers of amulets and carved tokens, of cheap and colorful jackets, pants, women’s dresses, of straw capes, hats, and woven sandals, of pottery bowls, of cotton squares used to carry the purchases in, and of anything and everything that might appeal to visitors.

Saburo scowled at the cheerful wares and at the gaping people getting in his way. The crowds thinned as they got near the police station. But there another obstruction awaited them. One of the constables outside hailed Tora. The chief wants to see you, Captain!

They stopped, Saburo with a muttered curse. The constable saluted Tora and bowed to Saburo. Captain. Sir.

What happened? Tora asked.

They found a body in Akaiwa, sir. I think the chief wants you to come have a look.

Saburo muttered darkly, I told you so. It’ll be murder and mayhem from now on.

The constable looked startled. Did something happen to you, sir? I notice you’re walking funny.

Saburo snarled. None of your business, Constable.

Tora grinned. He tangled with one of the acrobats. Got kicked in the nuts.

The constable choked back a laugh. Ouch!

I want him arrested, Saburo snapped.

Yes, sir. For what?

Are you stupid? For assaulting me. For stealing a man’s money. For being a vagrant and a criminal.

The constable looked at Tora.  Seriously, Captain?

Tora cast a sideways glance at Saburo. Well, he may have stolen some man’s coin purse. I didn’t see it. Saburo chased after him.

The constable nodded wisely. There’ve been reports of people losing a few coppers. It’s nothing much and we’re stretched thin, what with the fair.

Saburo snapped, So you allow thieves to roam freely and take whatever they want? This person was one of the vagrants. They don’t belong here. Heaven knows where they’re from. Such people are a menace, and I thought the police are here to protect us from that sort of thing. And now you have a murder. You see what happens with that lackadaisical manner of law enforcement?

The constable was taken aback by this vehemence. I was about to ask you about the assault, sir. An assault is very serious. Can you describe your assailant?

Slightly mollified, Saburo said, He was dressed in a red outfit, had a round face, and is about this tall. He suggested the height with his hand.

The constable looked. Surely not, sir. I mean that would be a small child.

Saburo flushed. He was an adult. A dwarf.

A dwarf?

Tora decided to explain. He’s one of the acrobats. Probably belongs to the actors staying at the temple. He ran off in that direction.

The constable said again, A dwarf?

Saburo scowled. Believe me, those fellows are very strong and agile.

Yes, sir. The constable paused, then said, I’ll tell Lieutenant Ota you’re here to report an assault. He turned and ran back to the police station.

Tora said, Let it go, Saburo. Go back to the tribunal. They’re very busy. And now they have a death to investigate.

Gales of laughter could be heard coming from the station, and several faces appeared at the door.

Saburo glared at Tora. Go to hell! All of you! He limped away.

Tora chuckled and walked to the station. A grinning Lieutenant Ota met him at the door. Goichi says the secretary was attacked by a dwarf.

Tora explained. Everybody had another good laugh, and then Ota said, Someone reported a dead body just outside Akaiwa. A woman. Not from the village, they say, but you never know. Do you have time to come with me?

Murder?

Don’t know, but we have to check it out.

Tora nodded. I like a mystery. Lead the way.

What about the assault on Secretary Saburo?

Never mind. He’ll calm down. His little son is looking forward to the fair. That will take his mind off revenge.

2

Akaiwa Village

The cherry trees were blooming in Akaiwa village. The day was much too pretty and cheerful for viewing bodies. Tora decided he would walk with Ota and his constables. It was less than two miles and he needed the exercise.

The road skirted Yuga-san, a small mountain, and they walked, followed by the red-coated constables. When they reached the village, they saw a small group of people gathered at the corner of a rice paddy.

Akaiwa was only a cluster of farmhouses huddled together in a grove of trees, the white of the blooming cherries bright against the darkness of the pines and the bark-covered roofs. Rice paddies surrounded it and spread from the foot of the mountain into the plain between it and the river. The fields were under water by now, and neatly planted. The festival was meant to celebrate this planting and to implore the help of the gods and of Buddha to bless the small plants and bring them to fruition so that the people of Bizen and elsewhere would have rice to put in their bellies over the winter and survive another year. This was a matter of life and death for the people and had been so from times immemorial. The bond between them and their fields was strong.

And now there was death in one of the fields. The Shinto faith protected the rice crop and  abominated the pollution of death. Those waiting near the body stood well away from it. They were all men. One or two covered their mouths as if the very air might carry death to them. All looked upset.

Neither Tora nor Ota or the constables were much bothered. They had encountered all sorts of horrors fairly regularly in their lives.

Ota greeted the waiting peasants, giving his name. He gestured to Tora and said, This is Captain Tora of the Tribunal Guard. And you are?

They bowed and gave their names. There were five of them, all middle-aged or old. This was no business for women and children. They volunteered the fact that the dead woman was a stranger.

Ota nodded. He and Tora walked over to the body. Tora saw that the woman was fully dressed and lay on her side in the water of the paddy, crushing a neat row or two of the small plants. Water had soaked her clothes and turned the cheerful blue and white pattern of her robe black and gray. She had long hair that was twisted into a bun behind her head. They could not see all of her face because it was half-submerged in the muddy water. She was unquestionably dead, and Ota made no attempt to check the body for signs of life. They stood at the edge of the paddy and looked down at her.

Tora said, Must’ve been pushed or thrown in.

Both he and Ota glanced at the grassy walk they stood on. Ota said, Not much point in looking for footprints. Those who found her have been all over. He sighed. Well, let’s pull her out. He gestured to the constables. Two of them came and waded into the paddy. The watching peasants withdrew a little farther. The constables placed their dripping burden neatly on her back on the grassy path. Tora saw that she was in her thirties. Her features were distorted in death, but he thought she must have been attractive.

Ota looked up at the peasants.  Who found her?

One man raised his hand. It’s my field. I check it every morning. I saw something that looked like an old rag and walked over here. Can you take her away, please? I‘ll have to pay the priest to do a service. And look at the mess she made.

It was a natural reaction by a man who had worked hard to raise his seedling rice plants and till his paddy before planting them, but Tora felt a great pity for the woman who had innocently become the object of anger and blame. He said, I’m sure she’d apologize if she could.

The man turned away his face.

Ota said reassuringly, We’ll take her to our morgue in a little while. Did you check the body?

No. There was nothing I could do. I told my neighbors and they sent a boy to the police station.

Very well. Give the constable your name and those of your neighbors. Then you can go home.

Tora looked back down at the dead woman. Her skin was fine and very pale. Whatever had happened to her had caused her great pain. She had bitten her lower lip and her hands were clenched.

Ota joined him. Do you see any wounds?

I don’t see any in front. Let’s turn her over.

They did but saw nothing on her back but mud and bits of crushed rice plants. Tora bent to feel her head. Maybe she fell on a rock someplace and hurt her head, he offered.

And then she went to lie down in the paddy?

She might have gotten dizzy and fallen.

Passed out and drowned? Maybe she was drunk. But what was she doing here?

A shout interrupted them. Not that either had an answer to Ota’s question. A small, bent figure came wobbling toward them, dragging a woven bamboo case in one hand. He wore a faded monk’s robe tucked up into his belt over a woman’s yellow pants. His gray hair stood up in spikes and he scowled.

The irascible coroner.

Ota shouted, What took you so long, Abe?

Abe arrived gasping and dropped his case. I’m an old man, he whined. A very busy old man. Get yourself a new coroner if you’re dissatisfied with my work. He came closer and peered at the corpse.

She was in the paddy, Ota said. The man who owns it found her this morning. We pulled her out. What can you tell us?

She’s dead. Abe turned away, picked up his case, and started to walk away.

Hey! Ota snatched at his sleeve. Not so fast. We need you to tell us how she died. And when.

Abe sneered, And also why? And who killed her? Since you two are men of such authority and have such brilliant minds, surely you don’t need a poor old pharmacist to do your jobs for you.

Ota decided to plead. Oh, come, Abe! You know we depend on you.

Reluctantly the coroner came back and gave the body his attention. Hmm. Female. Looks to be about thirty-five. Married, I’d say. Maybe she’s had children. I’ll know more about that later. He crouched and bent over her. He probed her mouth and nostrils with a finger, then lifted her eyelids.

Well, she didn’t drown, he announced

Ota said, We didn’t think so. There’s not enough water in the paddy to drown a rat.

Abe looked at him. You’d be surprised how little it takes to drown in if your face is in it.

So, how did she die?

Abe bent to his work again. He checked her arms and legs, lifting the fabric of her dress whenever possible. When he reached her right forearm, he paused for a moment and grunted.

What? Ota asked impatiently.

Cut herself, Abe said. Not deep enough to kill her. He paused and frowned. Though why there? He shook his head and turned his attention to her head again. Feeling the skull with sensitive fingers, he shook his head again. She wasn’t bludgeoned and neither did she fall and bump her head hard enough to knock herself out.

So how did she die?

No idea. I’ll take another look in the morgue, if you like. Abe sighed and gently rearranged her clothing. Poor girl, he muttered. To die too young and in such a beautiful spring.

He groaned as he struggled upright. Probably natural causes. Whatever overcame her happened last night. She’s been dead at least twelve hours. Best check her sash and sleeves unless you know who she is. Without another word, he walked off.

Ota flushed. Sometimes . . . he growled, then bent to see if the dead woman carried anything in the sleeves of her robe. Both were empty. He reached for her sash, a tightly draped piece of blue cotton, with a pattern of white cranes.

Tora could see the lieutenant had some difficulty with this. The fabric was wet and clung. Ota grimaced. Tora bent to help him, shifting the body slightly. He hated doing this with a woman. It seemed like an intrusion, an unforgiveable invasion.

Ota muttered, Thanks. I wish we didn’t have to do such things.

Yes. But she’s dead. The dead don’t care. And we’re only trying to find out if someone hurt her while she was still alive. She doesn’t look happy, whatever happened.

Ota straightened. Nothing. Who is she? Where did she come from? What was she doing in a rice paddy in the middle of the night?

Tora got up also. She may not have walked here. Someone could’ve carried her.

Then she died elsewhere.

Well, she was at least unconscious.

But if she was alive, why toss her in the paddy? That’s like throwing away a piece of garbage.

We’ll need to find out who she is. And Abe needs to take a better look. She’s well dressed, so she’s not a peasant or a poor woman. She looks like she has a good home somewhere. And a family.

That’s sad!

Yes. Even Abe pitied her.

Ota glanced up at the waiting constables. Bring the stretcher and take her back to the morgue, he shouted. He added to Tora, I’ll have my men speak to everyone in the village about this. Maybe someone was up and saw something. But it’s not likely. They go to bed early after all the planting they’ve been doing.

Tora, raised by peasants himself, nodded. He glanced once more at the body. I’ll have them put up notices around town. Somebody may recognize her. ‘Female, about thirty-five, medium height, long hair, blue cotton gown with blue sash with cranes, embroidered shoes.’

I hadn’t noticed the shoes. She must have been well off. They look expensive.

Or she was good with her needle and colored silk.

Yes. Well, let’s get to work.

The constables came and placed the dripping body on a light stretcher. Two burly fellows picked up the burden and trotted off with it.

Ota, too, started back the way they had come.

Tora paused a moment longer to look around. The sun was at the midpoint by now and Akaiwa seemed brighter than before, but perhaps that was because the dead woman who had been left here so inconsiderately was now gone. The paddy field was at peace again, except for a small space where the neat pattern of planting had been disturbed. The cherry trees shimmered among the pines and birds flew in the blue sky above. Tora raised his eyes to Yuga-san. The temple, on its far side, was hidden from view, but he could see the red torii climbing to the top where the shrine was. He hoped the god of the mountain had not been offended by this death and would continue to extend his protection to the paddy fields below.

3

Judge Emma

Akitada untangled his feet from the stiff green silk brocade as his wife pulled it aside gently and with great care. Oh, Akitada, she cried. You’re standing on it. Please be careful. It’s such very costly fabric.

Akitada removed the offending foot. Sorry! I’m not used to it. It’s very splendid and I know you sewed for weeks, but it’s very stiff. And you know how I hate these formal outfits. He bent his attention to the ties that held up the white trouser skirt, another item that was stiff and on top of that voluminous and much too long. Fashionable people in their wisdom had decided that courtiers must attend official functions while severely handicapped and forced to walk very slowly and with extreme care. This was thought to lend them particular dignity and significance. 

The occasion had been the official shrine ceremony this morning to bless the spring planting of a new crop. It had been long and dull, but as provincial governor of Bizen, a rice-producing province, Akitada felt it behooved him to attend all such ceremonies. Alas, there were any number of them. The agricultural year was marked by many events dealing with the production of a rice crop.

He heaved a sigh, both from frustration with the duty and from relief that the ceremony was over.

Sadako, by now almost covered by stiff folds of green brocade, said, You looked so splendid it took my breath away. You were the very image of Judge Emma on the temple screen.

Akitada stared at her. Judge Emma? You thought I looked like Judge Emma? The judge in hell? Dear gods!

Sadako folded the green brocade robe tenderly. Oh, I meant you looked magnificent. The judge does look magnificent, doesn’t he?

He is meant to frighten sinners into abject terror.

She paused. "Well, Akitada, you are the governor and you do judge criminals. It’s appropriate that people should respect you."

Akitada looked at the green robe with disgust. I won’t wear it again, he announced. I will not have the people of this province compare me to the judge of hell.

Her face fell. Oh, please don’t say that. I was so proud of you. And it’s such very fine brocade. And the color suits you so well. You always wear black robes.

Officials commonly wear black robes when on duty, he said defensively. I didn’t know you disliked them.

I don’t dislike them. You look well in whatever you wear. Sadako was becoming a little desperate. It’s just that . . . well you seemed younger and . . . and more vigorous in green.

Akitada looked at the robe again. "Really? Well, maybe it will become less stiff in