I followed Lord Katsuya back to his room.
"I want to put to rest my doubts about your dealings with my mother," I said.
Lord Katsuya dropped back onto his pillows, looking exhausted. "I've already told you, Taro," he said feebly, "that your mother and I only had conversations about the timber business. Do you want to see her letters?"
"I do," I replied curtly. The old man was a slippery customer, and hardly deserved more.
He dropped his head in resignation, reached for a nearby chest, and pulled out a few shriveled scrolls tied with red cords.
"Here, take a look for yourself," he said, holding the documents with sudden reverence. "You'll see what your mother and I discussed."
I skimmed through the scrolls. "There is nothing here about the contracts."
"Yes—and no," he said, half-closing his eyes. "Your mother, being the wise woman she was, understood that the situation could not remain solely in the realm of official commerce. She knew that many parties—your father, to start with—would oppose such arrangements." Lord Katsuya shifted on his pillows. "So we found more... discreet means of conducting negotiations and payments, so that they would never be discovered by your father. His hatred for our clan was too great. Your mother knew that."
I frowned. "And what do you mean by 'discreet'?"
He sighed, glancing at me with weary patience. "When we wrote about it, we did it—not quite in code—but in veiled expressions that could be interpreted in other ways. Payments were made through two trusted intermediaries—who didn't know the details of the arrangement, but ensured that your father's eyes stayed far from the truth. To the untrained eye, everything appeared to be business as usual: timber for roads, deliveries ostensibly destined for Matsumoto City. But they secretly reached the intended recipient. And so, thanks to your mother's wisdom, the clans kept the peace—and she received the merchandise and the money, without the dishonor of a public scandal."
I was still lost. "Why did she need the money?"
Lord Katsuya chuckled with sorrow. "It was all for you, Taro. Her only son. The timber was used to upgrade your father's aging compound, and the money was set aside for your future."
For me?!
I stared at the old man. He could've been lying—there was nothing in it for him.
"And my father never found out?"
"I understood he started to suspect something." He shook his head. "Foolish man. There was nothing between us." He glanced at me and added, "Unfortunately."
I was tempted to pull out my sword, but managed to resist the urge.
Still, it seemed that even my inclination made an impact. Lord Katsuya recoiled, as if from a sudden spasm. The magic force of my sword must've affected him even at this distance.
"Don't take it out on me," he groaned. "You already took Yumi, the last outlet of my joy. You'd better find out who your mother was seeing."
"What do you mean?" I almost grabbed him by the throat.
"I'm telling you this only because you asked for the truth, Taro," he muttered, his face turning pale.
I fought to keep my anger in check. "What are you implying?"
"She was seen on the road to my estate," he whispered. "But she never came here. If she went anywhere… it was somewhere else. That's all I know."
My fingers trembled despite me. "Who saw her?"
"One of my servants," Lord Katsuya said, collapsing back onto his pillows. "The man's dead now—but he had told me he saw her twice by the small bridge beneath the first hill."
I knew the place he was talking about. Several birch trunks had been laid over a small mountain stream there—bleached white like bones, sagging slightly in the middle. Barely a bridge.
What was special about it?
Why was she seen there?
I had to find out. I glanced at Lord Katsuya, barely conscious. No—he didn't invent the story. I had to go to the bridge.
"You know what is going to happen if you lied just now?" I blurted out.
He nodded. "Yes… I didn't lie…"
I knew that.
Takumi was waiting for me outside with our horses ready. It was getting very late.
"We have to hurry back," Takumi said. "These horses get jumpy in the dark."
Like I cared.
"We have to stop somewhere on our way," I warned him.
Before I could mount my horse, I saw Lord Katsuya's concubine. Yumi rushed to me and then halted an arm's length away.
"Forgive me, my lord," she uttered. "May I ask you a question?"
I nodded. "Of course. What's wrong?"
She stared at the ground between us. "I've made my decision."
I waited.
"I'm leaving at sunrise," she said, all trembling.
"Is that your own decision?" I asked.
"Yes…" she kept looking down. "I wonder if I could ask for another favor, my lord?"
I nodded again, but I guess she couldn't see it, so I added, "What is it?"
"I beg your lordship to give me a place at your estate," she mumbled, clasping her hands. "I promise to do any menial labor that might be required. I'll clean floors and feed your horses. I'll do anything…"
"Listen," I interrupted her, and she finally looked up, her eyes full of tears. "You are welcome to stay at my house as long as you'd like. Enough said."
A tear ran down Yumi's cheek. "My lord…"
"Takumi will greet you in the morning and show you a room where you could stay."
She fell to her knees and kissed the hem of my kimono. "Lord Matsuda!" she exclaimed, crying.
"Now, now," I said, pulling away from her. "Cheer up and don't worry about a thing." The former concubine kept sobbing silently.
Takumi and I mounted in silence.
I couldn't wait to get out of the wretched place.