The Old Men of Omi by I. J. Parker Page A

especially toward women and children. For another, for all his elevated status as Lieutenant Sashima, trusted retainer of Lord Sugawara, he was a peasant by birth and at heart. He could not deny this bond with Kinzaburo and his family. And thus his choice was simple and quickly made. He would find a way to free Kinzaburo and return him to his family. In the process, he hoped to deal out some punishment to the sohei. But this he did not insist on. It would merely be an extra satisfaction. He had served his master long enough to know he must guard against making trouble. It was bad enough that he would have to go against orders in this case.
    Or if not orders precisely, then implied refusal of permission.
    Having settled matters to his satisfaction, he hurried homeward, thinking with pleasure of surprising Hanae and spending the evening with his family and the night in her soft arms.
    The gate was opened by the stable boy. Tora rode in, tired and dusty, and snapped, “Don’t you know that you must check who’s at the gates before throwing them wide? What if it had been armed robbers?”
    The boy grinned impudently. “That would’ve been something to see. Nothing ever happens around here.”
    Saburo came up behind him and cleared his throat. “I wouldn’t say that.”
    Tora swung himself out of the saddle and tossed the reins to the boy. “Watch your mouth, kid. You’re not too old to be put over my knee.” When Tora turned to Saburo, the boy stuck out his tongue and took the horse away.
    Saburo’s face wore a peculiar expression, half sheepish and half dejected. “So, what’s been happening, brother?” Tora asked.
    Saburo grimaced and glanced over his shoulder. “A terrible thing’s happened. I don’t know what will come of it.”
    “Spit it out.” Tora was getting impatient. Hanae was waiting.
    Saburo opened his mouth, but a sharp voice cried, “So!” A woman’s voice. It added, “And you are who?” Saburo shrank into himself as if he expected a beating.
    Surprised, Tora turned his head. A small, round, elderly woman in black had appeared around the corner of the stable. She waddled closer, surprisingly quick on her feet for her size. In fact, she seemed to glide across the gravel as if carried by invisible animals under her full skirt. Her face was sharp-featured for one so fat, and her expression was ominous.
    “Who the hell is she?” Tora burst out.
    “Language!” cried the woman, waving a finger at him. “A man is judged by his manner in the presence of ladies. Keep it in mind for the future! Hmmph! Lost your voice? You must be Tora, the handsome one. What happened to your face?”
    Resentment evaporated. Tora treated the little woman to one of his brightest smiles and an exaggerated bow. “I am Tora. My apologies, auntie. Your ears are too sharp. You weren’t meant to hear that.”
    “I’m not your auntie. You will address me as Mrs. Kuruda.” She stopped before him and looked him over. “A pretty face and a smooth tongue, but you’re a troublemaker. Your wife must have her work cut out for her.”
    Tora saw Saburo flinch and looked at him. “Mrs. Kuruda?” he asked.
    “My mother,” murmured Saburo, hanging his head.
    “Speak up, son,” the little woman instructed him. “And always stand up straight, look people in the eye, and speak clearly. Have you forgotten everything I taught you?”
    Saburo straightened. “No, Mother,” he said more loudly.
    She returned her attention to Tora. “What brings you home? I thought you were with your master in Otsu.”
    “Umm, I had some free time and thought I’d look in to see that everything is all right.” Tora shot another glance at Saburo.
    “Not necessary. Now that I’m here, I’ll make sure of it. A good thing I decided to look in on Saburo. Everything’s at sixes and sevens without your mistress. Saburo told me she died in childbed, poor woman. A woman’s karma is a terrible thing. We bring our children into this world in pain