ribboned papers partially and displayed the large crimson seal of

the sovereign’s private office. “Do you recognize the seal?”

“Yes, Excellency.” Akitada bowed to touch his forehead to

the desk. Perhaps, he thought, he should prostrate himself, but

he did not quite know how to move from behind the desk and

stretch out on the floor without getting up first. An imperial

seal represented His Majesty, and one never stood before such

an object.

“Good,” commented the thin man. “I assume you are satis-

fied that I have the power to send you to Sado Island?”

Akitada sat back on his heels. “I am afraid not, Excellency. I

do not know you or how you may have come by imperial docu-

ments or what the documents pertain to.”

“Are you calling him a thief and a liar?” cried the short man.

“How dare you?” He turned to his colleague. “You see? That is

what comes of sending unsuitable persons to fill crucial posts in

the provinces. I shall certainly report this impudent fellow’s lack of cooperation to the great council of state.”

Akitada turned cold. Such a thing would surely end his

career.

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

15

The thin man cleared his throat, then leaned closer to whis-

per something to his companion. The other man still glowered

but nodded reluctantly.

Akitada watched them and wished that this day had never

happened. Nothing good could come from this meeting, no

matter how diplomatic he was with these men. He had no idea

what he was getting into, except that it involved the emperor,

high treason, and murder.

The thin man sorted through his papers again, then passed

a letter to Akitada, who recognized the handwriting. It was

from Soga Ietada, minister of justice and Akitada’s immediate

superior. The letter appeared to answer some question about

Akitada’s background. Soga had written, “Sugawara, a junior

clerk in our archives, performed his simple duties adequately,

though without enthusiasm. He has a regrettable and obstinate

tendency to become involved in investigations of low crime in

his spare time, a situation which often strains relations between

the capital police and our ministry.”

When Akitada looked up, the thin man smiled his thin

smile. “When I knew we would pass through Echigo, I contacted

Soga. You see, we know of your interest in murder from an

unimpeachable source.”

Akitada handed back the letter. “This bears no superscrip-

tion. I still do not know who you are, sir.”

The short man made an impatient noise, but his companion

raised his hand. He looked at Akitada, who looked back and

compressed his lips stubbornly.

“So. You still do not trust me. But how can I trust you?”

“If you came to me knowing only what Minister Soga told

you, you cannot,” Akitada said bitterly.

The thin man chuckled. “Oh, Soga was not my only source.

Let me see. I also heard that you placed first in your university

16

I . J . P a r k e r

examination. An uncommon distinction which means you have

above-normal intelligence and learning.”

“I was fortunate.”

“Hmm. I believe you received your present appointment

because you solved a complicated crime affecting another

member of the imperial family?”

That was only known to a very few people. Akitada said cau-

tiously, “It is true that my humble efforts may have brought me

my present assignment,” adding silently that, if he had known

better, he would have refused it.

“Whose side are you on, Sugawara?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“In the matter of Prince Okisada.”

Akitada was an imperial official and thought the answer

should have been obvious. “Oh. His Majesty was duly chosen

by the previous emperor. There can be no question about the

legality of the succession. The ruling sovereign designates his

successor from among his brothers or sons, provided that his

choice is capable of carrying out the duties of an emperor.

There is a precedent for this case. In 438, another crown prince

was considered unfit and passed over in favor of his younger

brother. May His Majesty’s reign last a thousand years.” Akitada

bowed.

“Spoken like a legal scholar. Very well, I suppose I have no

choice but to trust you. I cannot reveal details, but you may

have a look at our original commission. I hope you will treat the

information with the utmost secrecy. No one must know our

purpose.”

His companion objected. “I am opposed. Sugawara’s char-

acter is dubious from all we have heard. He has disobeyed

orders and taken matters into his own hands before. If he per-

sists in refusing an order, I say we go back and investigate the

case ourselves.”

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

17

“Neither you nor I have the expertise to investigate a mur-

der, nor sufficient background in the law, nor in the details of

provincial administration. Sugawara does and he is close

enough to reach Sado Island quickly.” The thin man selected

one of the imperial documents and passed it across to Akitada.

Akitada sat lost in amazement at what these two officials

expected of him. The thin man raised his brows and gave a

meaningful nod at the document roll in his hand. Belatedly,

Akitada extended both hands to receive it and raised the impe-

rial seal respectfully above his head, before undoing the silk rib-

bon with trembling fingers. The emperor’s private office used

heavy, cream-colored mulberry paper of the finest quality, and

Akitada’s hands were sweating. He wiped them surreptitiously

on his robe, and then read. The handwriting of the imperial

scribe was most elegant, so elegant in fact that he had trouble

deciphering it. But flowery language and floating brushstrokes

aside, he saw that his visitors were both advisors to the emperor.

He recognized their names and knew that they held the fourth

and fifth ranks, respectively, but they worked in too exalted an

office to have come in contact with a mere junior clerk in

the ministry of justice. The letter instructed them to travel to

Sadoshima in order to visit Prince Okisada and discuss “certain

matters” with him on behalf of His Majesty. The faint signature

at the end was the sovereign’s. Akitada again raised the docu-

ment above his head, before rolling it up carefully and retying

the silk ribbon with clumsy fingers. He returned it with a deep

bow. “Please forgive my earlier lack of courtesy, Your Excellen-

cies,” he said humbly.

The short man grunted, but his thin colleague smiled.

“Never mind. I like a cautious man. You will need to be wary in

Sadoshima. We suspect a great deal of trouble is brewing there.”

“Trouble? Forgive me, Excellency, but when did the

prince die?”

18

I . J . P a r k e r

“Last week. We were greeted by the news when we arrived.”

“Only last week?” Akitada rearranged his thoughts rapidly.

They had not been sent to him from the capital. The govern-

ment was still pleased to ignore him. They—or rather the thin

man (though he knew their names, Akitada preferred to think

in anonymous terms), had come to him on his own initiative.

He felt mildly flattered but also worried. “Then why did His

Majesty send you there?” he asked.

“We cannot talk about matters which concern the sover-

eign,” protested the short man.

The thin man sighed. “Can you not simply go and find out if

the governor’s son, a young man called Toshito, is truly guilty?”