Sowing Ghosts 4.6

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[Concluding chapter 4]

The rain had stopped by the time Hiroki returned to their mansion. Before it had stopped, though, it had flirted seriously with turning to snow, and had made the end of his long day nearly as trying as had been the examination of Lady Tomiko’s body.

It was well into the new day — at least the lesser Hour of the Ox — and he could not remember feeling this tired at any time that hadn’t involved a campaign. The harae purification ceremony had not taken long; in fact it had taken more time for Hiroki to have the priest awakened than it took the priest to perform the pouring of the water and waving of the hiraigushi. But it had taken a horrible hour of walking in the icy rain and sleet to find an occupied shrine, and Hiroki had been shivering so hard by the time he had the priest’s attention that he had a hard time following the ritual.


The priest had made it clear — peevishly so, in Hiroki’s opinion — that a full purification ceremony, or misogi, had to be performed on the eleventh day of the next month. As the misogi required him to stand under a waterfall while chanting the purification liturgy, Hiroki was content to wait until the next month. By the eleventh day of the third month it was possible that spring might have arrived in the capital.

I might be warm again by then, he thought as he entered the house through the kitchen door. Jiro, who probably never slept, was waiting by the big kitchen fire for him, and after looking at him wide-eyed for a moment, leaped up and began calling for the kitchen staff to finish preparations for the promised bath. Hiroki was so tired that for a moment he considered telling Jiro he was just going straight to bed, but then the warmth of the fire began to penetrate through his clothes, which began to steam. Perhaps a little while in the bath won’t hurt, he decided. And it might help.

“Master Tetsuo came in after the rain stopped,” Jiro told him as he helped Hiroki out of his clothes. “He is asleep but asked me to wake him when you returned. Shall I get him now?”

“Let him sleep a bit longer,” Hiroki said. “Ask me about this again once I’m in the bath.”

The hot water made him want to sleep, but Hiroki fought against the temptation, aided by the decision he had made — or been forced to. When Jiro returned to the kitchen and asked about waking Tetsuo, Hiroki shook his head. “There’s really nothing I have to say to him that can’t wait until morning rice.” He took a breath, swallowed. “Jiro, I … met my mother at Lord Miyoshi’s this afternoon.”

“Ai,” Jiro said, dropping to his knees and pressing his forehead to the floor. “That is very bad, master.” Jiro had been an assistant gardener when Hiroki had been a different person, with a different name, living in the aristocratic quarter of the capital. He had been given no reason to love the Lady Inaki Sakiko, and he had followed when Hiroki fled his mother to spend years wandering the mountains. “How did it happen?”

“It was unavoidable. She was, for a reason I do not know, looking at the body of Lord Miyoshi’s sister when I was sent to investigate the murder.”

“That poor woman,” Jiro said. “I hope her soul is at peace.”

“I suspect that will depend on how deeply she was involved with my mother. Jiro, the servants say that my mother works at the imperial palace. I do not understand this. My mother considers any sort of work beneath her.”

“We all know the universe is turned upside-down now,” Jiro said in a low, sad voice. “Who can say why a person does anything, these days?” He looked at Hiroki, eyebrows lifted. “Are you going to tell your friends and your superiors about this?”

“I have been thinking about that since I left the shrine,” Hiroki said. “And I think I must not.”

“You bear too many secrets, master. Should you be adding to them?”

“I do not see how I have a choice. Think about it, Jiro: what happens if we encounter her again? I am able to prevent my face from revealing what I think — where she is concerned this is a skill I have had for many, many years — but my friends will be curious about her if they know, and this curiosity will betray them.”

“Why does that matter, master?”

“Because my mother should not have been in that house, Jiro. Not the way she feels about the samurai caste. If I am truly going to investigate this murder for Lord Miyoshi, I am going to have to treat my mother as a suspect.”

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