Black Arrow Read Online Free PDF

stood. He could not go on this way. Conditions in the tribunal were intolerable. He wanted to replace the entire staff, but where to find loyal men in this hostile city? Why was everyone against him?
     
    A horrible sound—like the distant wailing of a lost soul, culminating in the bellowing of an angry bull—tore at his ear drums. He jumped, looked about wildly, and rushed around the corner.
     
    There, just below the rear veranda, stood a very strange creature. For a moment, Akitada thought he was a ghost, the ghost of an old man with long, unbound white hair and a large white beard blowing crazily in the wind.
     
    When the old man saw Akitada, he slowly lowered a big conch shell from his lips. He was dressed in short, dark cotton trousers and a full-sleeved blouse of black and white checks with strange tassels hanging about his neck, and he stood motionless and silent, supporting himself on a carved staff. He stared fixedly at Akitada.
     
    “What in the Buddha’s name do you think you are doing, blowing that thing here?” Akitada demanded in a shaking voice. “This is the tribunal and you’re trespassing. Get away from here or I’ll call the constables.”
     
    Without taking his sharp black eyes off Akitada, the old man slowly hooked the conch shell to his belt and stepped a little closer. Akitada, irritated by this latest example of disrespect, glared back. He was amazed at the darkness of the old man’s skin, blackened rather than bronzed by exposure and all the more startling for the contrast with the silver-white mane and beard. His eyes fell to the man’s legs, naked from the knees down to his bare feet, and as dark and leathery as his face.
     
    In this cold.
     
    A hungry beggar. Suddenly shame overwhelmed Akitada’s anger. “Forgive me,” he said to the old man, bowing slightly. “How rude of me. I have not been feeling very well and you startled me. It is cold outside and I am sure you have not eaten. You are welcome here, but I have nothing to offer you. If you will go across the courtyard, you will find the kitchen.” He pointed. “Tell them that the governor said to fill your bowl until you have had enough and to find you a warm place to sleep.”
     
    The beggar, inclining his head slightly, like a haughty nobleman, turned away. A strange piece of fur, attached to his belt in the back, flapped as he melted into the dusk.
     
    Behind Akitada, a door opened with a creak, and Tora asked, “What was that cursed noise?”
     
    Akitada turned. Tora, in his shaggy bearskin, reminded him of one of the northern barbarians. “Do you plan to wear that pelt tonight?” he asked irritably. “You look like a wild animal.”
     
    Seimei appeared behind the young man. “Her ladyship says your clothes are ready, sir. And she wonders about the strange sound a moment ago.”
     
    “Thank you, Seimei. It was an old beggar blowing a conch shell. A peculiar way of asking for alms, but perhaps he is a mute. I sent him to the kitchen for food and lodging. Try to find him some straw boots, Seimei. The poor old fellow was barefoot in this weather.”
     
    Tora asked, “Was he wearing a checked blouse and carrying a tall staff?”
     
    “Yes. You know him?”
     
    “Not really, sir, but you’ve just met a yamabushi. They’re holy men that live in the mountains and pray to the Buddha by standing naked under a waterfall in the middle of winter.”
     
    “Then they must be mad,” Akitada said impatiently and headed for his quarters. “Come along.”
     
    Tamako greeted Tora with a smile. Of her husband’s three lieutenants, he was the only one admitted to their private quarters. Though Tora had been an army deserter when his path crossed Akitada’s, there was a strong bond of mutual obligation between them. They owed their lives to each other. And Tora’s loyalty to his master extended also to his young wife and the rest of the Sugawara family in the capital. Even Akitada’s mother, the ill-tempered old