Island of Exiles

reach provincial headquarters, I’ll see what can be done about

your case, though I’m afraid that I have no influence with the

government in Heian-kyo.”

“Never mind. I have some friends,” Haseo said. “Perhaps

now, after what has happened to me, they will try their utmost.

There is a chance now where there was none before.”

“Good.” Akitada shaded his eyes against the setting sun and

peered toward the mountainside. There they were finally. Three

figures emerged from the trees, two women and a man.

I s l a n d o f E x i l e s

335

Toshito reached them first. Akitada almost did not recog-

nize him. The slender, pale young man he had last seen in the

prison cell had become a sturdy bearded peasant. Toshito

seemed to have the same problem; his eyes searched their faces,

before he nodded to Akitada. But there was nothing friendly or

grateful about his welcome.

“Who’s your friend?” he asked bluntly.

“A fellow prisoner. We escaped from Kumo’s mine.”

The women joined them then. Ribata gave Haseo a very sweet

smile and bowed, her hands folded. “Thanks to all-merciful

Buddha you are both safe.”

Akitada made the introductions, adding somewhat stiffly,

“It is very good of you to come to our assistance. I’m afraid my

friend is too weak to walk up the mountain.”

When Ribata knelt beside Haseo to check his wound,

Akitada’s eyes went to Masako.

Like Toshito, she wore rough peasant clothing and her long

hair was tied up in a scarf. She blushed charmingly when their

eyes met, and he found that her beauty touched him as strongly

as it always had.

“How are you, Masako?” he asked, his voice soft with their

remembered friendship.

She flushed more deeply and took a step closer to Ribata.

“I’m well, thank you, my lord. And very glad to see you alive

and w . . .” Her voice trailed off. He guessed that she had meant

to say “well,” but that he looked too shocking for that word.

Her ma

his identity. Had she told the others? Well, it did not matter

any longer.

“I see you know who I am,” he said. “Did you read the

documents hidden in the lining of my robe?”

She looked uncomfortable but nodded. “I felt paper.

Since water would have ruined it, I undid the stitches. I saw the

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I . J . P a r k e r

imperial seal—just like one in the governor’s office—but I put

everything back after I had washed your gown.”

“I know. Thank you.” He wanted to pursue the matter, but

decided to wait and instead ask about her relationship with

the hostile Toshito. Glancing across to him, he said, “Ribata tells me that you helped the governor’s son escape. That was brave

and generous, but surely not very wise. Your father must be

frantic with worry about your safety and reputation.”

The young man had caught his last words and came over

now, his face dark with anger. Putting his arm around Masako’s

shoulders, he said sharply, “My wife is under my protection and

her reputation is above reproach, so I’d advise you to watch

both your tongue and your ma

Akitada was taken aback—literally. He stepped away from

them, his eyes on Masako for confirmation. “Your wife?”

She buried her face in Toshito’s shoulder. It was answer

enough. Akitada met the smoldering anger in the other man’s

eyes and bowed. “My sincere felicitations,” he said lightly. “I had no idea.” Then he turned his back on both of them.

Haseo was explaining his injury to Ribata. “It’s been bleed-

ing all day and part of the night or I’d be as strong as an ox,” he said apologetically.

Ribata nodded. “Yes. I see. Putting moss on the wound was

good. Few people know that it stanches bleeding and cools the

fever in the wound.”

Haseo smiled up at Akitada. “My friend’s idea.”

Toshito, still glowering, joined them. “We could put him on

some branches and drag him up to the hermitage, but it will

take two strong men to do it, and Lord Sugawara does not look

very fit.”

“Oh, no, I’ll walk,” cried Haseo, shocked.

“I’m perfectly capable,” snapped Akitada.

I s l a n d o f E x i l e s

337

They solved the impasse by Toshito and Akitada supporting

Haseo between them. It was an unpleasant collaboration, as

their arms touched behind Haseo’s back. For Akitada the jour-

ney turned into torment, especially after they began their climb

up the mountain. His pride did not allow him to ask for rest

periods. Instead he forced himself to keep step with the younger

and much healthier Toshito. Somehow they dragged Haseo to

the narrow wooden veranda and set him down.

Ribata and Masako disappeared inside, and an awkward

silence fell. Haseo was dozing, much as Akitada had earlier.

Toshito stood glowering. Finally Akitada could not bear it any

longer. “So you and Masako came here to hide out?” he asked,

though the answer was obvious.

Toshito’s lips twisted and he did not bother to answer. There

was nothing conciliatory in his ma

Masako had told him of their indiscretion. Surely not. But his

earlier remarks could not account for this much antagonism.

Could Toshito be blaming Akitada for not having arrived in

time to clear him? Whatever the reason, their stay here would be

more than uncomfortable if this continued. Akitada swallowed

his resentment and tried again.

“I did my best for you and succeeded in getting the infor-

mation that will clear you,” he said. “I was on my way back when

your enemies stopped me.”

“I did not ask for your help and I had nothing to do with

what happened to you,” snapped Toshito, and stalked away.

“Hmm,” murmured Haseo, opening his eyes. “That’s a very

angry young man. What did you do to him?”

Akitada flushed. “Don’t pay any attention to him,” he

said evasively. “He’s a moody fellow who has been accused of a

murder he did not commit. Perhaps he worries that we will

draw our pursuers here.”

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I . J . P a r k e r

But Akitada knew there was more to Toshito’s hostility than

mere resentment that he and Haseo had intruded into their safe

haven. He recalled that Toshito used to bristle at him even when

he thought of him as the prisoner Taketsuna. No, surely the

problem was jealousy. Toshito either suspected or knew of his

affair with Masako.

The tangled relationships between the men and women in

the hermitage complicated matters. He tried to gauge the situa-

tion later, when Ribata cleaned Haseo’s wound and applied

powdered herbs and various ointments, wrapping his leg again

in some clean hemp bandages. When Haseo left to lie down,

she asked to see Akitada’s knee.

“So. You have sought out trouble and found it, my lord,” she

murmured, probing his leg.

Though she had addressed him as Taketsuna earlier, she

knew very well who he was and that he had been trying to clear

the governor’s son. Almost her first words to him had shown

it, but he had been too shocked at the news that Masako

and Toshito were with her to think clearly. He wondered how

long she had known, and remembered her friendship with

the Kumo family, but he only said, “Yes. And I’m afraid I have

lost your flute.”

She looked up then and smiled. “Never mind. It is your life

which matters.” Then she glanced through the door of the hut

to where Masako was cooking over the open fire while her

husband watched. “And that matters not only to you, but to