Shinju (42 page)

He made his way to the back of the
yashiki
, a trip that took most of an hour because of the crowds and the size of the estate. An alley divided the Nius' property from their neighbors'. Just inside it, Sano dismounted.

The alley was long and narrow, its darkness relieved only by scattered light from lanterns on the side street, and the fainter radiance of the stars. As Sano led his horse deeper into the alley,
he watched and listened. He met no one. No sound came from inside the walls, or at least none that rose above the muted noise from the streets. The Nius' rear gate faced that of its neighbor. Neither was guarded. Here he might enter the
yashiki
undetected—if enter it he could.

Sano contemplated the wall. Its smooth plaster-and-tile surface offered no handholds. Above it, the barred windows of the barracks stood high out of his reach. The barracks themselves extended without interruption along the wall, except where they rose slightly to form a guardhouse above the heavy timber gate. Then Sano raised his eyes higher. Ah, yes …

Elaborate curved finials crowned the peaks at either end of the guardhouse roof. Sano took the rope out of his cloak. Uncoiling it, he made a loop at one end, which he secured with a slipknot. He looked both ways, saw no one, then tossed the loop at the right-hand finial.

On his first and second tries, the loop missed the finial altogether. Sano began to sweat. The metal mask grew clammy against his face. He tossed the rope again. This time the loop fell over its mark. He pulled on the rope. The knot tightened and held fast.

Sano hesitated, reins in hand. He couldn't leave his horse here for a patrolling
doshin
to see. The best thing to do would be to send it away, but he hated to give up his means of escape. Despite the grave risk, he had to bring it through the gate once he got inside.

He dropped the reins over a post. Grasping the rope, he began to climb the wall, bracing his feet against it. The effort made the pain in his shoulders flare. He squeezed his eyes half-shut against it, wincing. A warm trickle down his back told him that his wounds had begun to bleed again. The coarse rope burned his hands. Certainly the wall hadn't seemed so high from below! At last he reached the guardhouse roof. Panting, he lay there, unable to move. If someone caught him now, he would have to surrender without a fight. When he recovered enough strength to lift his head, he looked down into the estate.

Dark buildings lay beyond a wide, dark stretch of open ground. Nothing moved or made a sound. Everyone had either left for the evening, or else they were up in the front part of the estate. But for how long?

Quickly Sano untied the rope and stuffed it back inside his cloak. He didn't want to leave evidence of his clandestine entry, and he might need it again. Then he slid on his belly down the sloping roof. Gripping the eaves, he lowered himself backward into the estate.

He was about to drop when he heard quick footsteps and men's voices outside the wall. The Nius' guards! If they heard him land, they would investigate the noise. Hands locked on the eaves, he dangled high above the ground.

The footsteps drew closer. Sano's hands and arms began to ache, then to shudder with fatigue. Spasms of pain gripped them, traveling to his wounded shoulders. He clenched his teeth and hung on. Now he could make out the men's words.

“This place is quieter than a grave.”

“Well, we'll just make a quick check, then go back out front.”

Sano recognized the second voice. Not a stranger's, but worse: the
doshin
. The thought of his horse, standing in plain sight in front of the Nius' gate, gave him no comfort whatsoever. Trying to will away pain and fear, he prayed for his pursuers to leave.

Then the
doshin
said, “There's nobody here. Let's go.”

The footsteps and voices faded. Sano silently thanked the gods for incompetent police. How lucky for him that this particular
doshin
was as careless when chasing fugitives as when investigating arson! He let go of the eaves.

Hard earth flew up and struck him. He flexed his knees and did a backward somersault to keep his legs from breaking. His deepest, most painful wound—the one on his left shoulder—took the full weight of his body. A scream of agony almost burst from him. He stifled it by biting the inside of his cheek so hard that he tasted blood. His eyes watered as he forced himself to stand.

Sliding back the gate's heavy iron beams, he opened it and brought his horse inside. He tied the horse to the gate. Then, hoping it would be there when—if—he returned, he started toward the house.

With the problems of entering the
yashiki
and hiding the horse dealt with, Sano faced a whole new set of difficulties. How would he find the scroll? Was it even in the house at all? Was he correct in assuming that Lord Niu, wanting to keep the prized secret document safe and near, would have brought it back to town with him? Even if he did manage to escape with the scroll, how would he reach the higher authorities without being caught and killed? He thrust the last daunting thought aside. He would deal with each problem as it arose. First he must find Lord Niu's quarters in the vast, unfamiliar mansion.

He hurried across the bare expanse of what appeared to be a riding ground. Feeling conspicuous and vulnerable in spite of the darkness, he skirted a pond where the daimyo's men practiced swimming and fighting in armor. The sudden sight of two figures looming at him out of the blackness made him skid to a stop, heart in his throat. Then he recognized them as man-shaped archery targets. He reached the buildings weak with relief, but already anticipating the dangers ahead.

The first came when he passed the stables. Along with the stamping and snorting of the horses, he heard laughter; lamps burned in the grooms' quarters. He also saw lights in what must be retainers' and servants' wings. Ducking beneath the windows, Sano stole between the buildings. He crossed a garden like the one he'd seen on his first visit to the estate, and came at last to the great sprawling bulk of the mansion.

Its white walls shone eerily in the starlight. Above them, multiple roofs rose and fell like dark waves. Sano could see that the mansion was not one building but many, connected by low walls or covered corridors. He realized that the estate's layout was
vastly more complex than that of the Nius' summer villa. How would he ever find Lord Niu's quarters, let alone the scroll?

The nearest gate led him to a narrow path that ran between the blank, solid walls of fireproof storehouses. He followed this until it dead-ended, forcing him to turn left. A wider path took him between high wooden fences with tiled rooftops rising above them, angling again and again. Sano soon lost all sense of direction. He could only hope that he was moving toward the center of the mansion reserved for the daimyo's family. The walls muted and distorted sound. Was he getting closer to the boulevard, or farther away? Were those voices coming from outside the estate, or from someone on the path behind or ahead of him? At each subsequent corner he paused for a longer interval, listening, but not trusting his ears.

Then a gate appeared in the fence. Standing to one side, Sano pushed on it. It swung open with a shriek that made him cringe. He peered inside to see a spacious garden surrounded on three sides by buildings with wide, covered verandas. A single lantern over each doorway threw weak light onto the pond, bushes, and pavilion. No lights burned in any of the windows, and Sano could see nothing to indicate exactly who lived in these rooms. They might belong to family members, or to high-ranking attendants. But even if Lord Niu's chambers lay elsewhere, getting inside would give Sano access to the rest of the mansion.

The garden's trees and shrubs shielded him as he advanced on the nearest building. Reaching the veranda, he tried a door. Locked. He jiggled, then shoved it, knowing that locks in even expensive homes tended to be flimsy. Why waste money on locks when roving patrols usually did a much better job maintaining security? But the door held firm. His efforts to pry it open failed; the point of his short sword wouldn't fit into the hairline crack between door and frame. He tried the other doors with no better luck, then turned to the windows.

These were covered with thin, closely spaced wooden bars. He
selected one farthest from the lighted doorways and used his sword to pry away the bars. They broke in a series of sharp snaps that he hoped anyone inside would mistake for firecrackers. He cut and tore away the paper windowpane and looked through the jagged hole.

An empty corridor led past a series of closed doors separated by long expanses of paper-and-wood wall. Still clutching his sword, Sano climbed through the window. Stealthily he crossed the corridor and slid open a door. This led to an inner corridor, darker and also empty, with more doors opening off it. As he entered it, his elation over getting into the house faded.

Flowery perfume scented the air. In the nearest room, he saw the dark shapes of furniture that looked to be chests and dressing tables. The faint light from the doorway lanterns reflected off a tall mirror and gleamed on the satiny folds of discarded kimonos scattered on the floor. He was in the women's quarters. On tiptoe, he crept sideways down the corridor, his back pressed against the wall, in search of a way into the rest of the house.

Darkness magnified sound; each faint creak of the floorboards under Sano's feet exploded in his hypersensitive ears. Other noises—the house settling, a shout from somewhere on the estate—made him flinch.

Then he froze. A wavery smear of light was moving toward him down the corridor. An oil lamp, carried by a girl who walked soundlessly on stockinged feet. As she drew nearer, Sano could see her face glowing above the flame. At any moment she would come upon him.

Sano turned to retreat. Then he heard a door slide open somewhere behind him, and footsteps approaching. His mouth went dry; his stomach tensed. Lady Niu? One of the other women? Or a guard investigating the broken window? The footsteps grew louder. He could hear the girl, too, humming a breathy tune as she neared him. His escape cut off from both directions, he slid open the door of the nearest room. He would hide there until the girl
and the other unseen person left, and then resume his search for Lord Niu's quarters. To his disappointment, he found not a room but a large closet crammed full of chests and boxes, with no space left for him. He had to run—one way or the other. Rather than face an unknown and possibly greater threat, he hurtled down the corridor toward the girl.

She gave a startled cry as he tore past her. Then she began to scream in earnest:

“A thief! Help!”

Sano burst through the nearest door in the outside wall. Instead of an outer corridor with access to the grounds, he saw a long, narrow passage ahead of him. The girl kept screaming. He raced down the passage. The door at the end led into an adjoining section of the house. He fled along its maze of corridors. Walls streaked past him in long expanses of wood broken only by mullioned paper windows. The interior windows were dark. Through the outside ones, he could see faint light coming from the garden, but the shadows of heavy bars striped the panes. Where was the door? Much as he hated to leave before he could find the scroll, he had to get out. Now. Before the guards came.

He turned a corner. To his horror, the floor began to emit loud, chirpy creaks every time he stepped on it. He'd hit a nightingale walk, a specially constructed floor that compelled intruders to give audible warning of their approach. Monks, nobles, and warrior lords had made use of this alarm system throughout history; he should have expected the Nius to have it. He tried to run lightly, staying close to the wall. Still the nightingales sang.

The corridor angled into another. A cold draft hit Sano. It came from an open door that led to a patch of lantern-lit garden. But as he raced toward the door, a horizontal oblong of brightness appeared ahead of him in the paper wall as someone lit a lamp in one of the rooms. A door slid open. Light spilled into the corridor. A tall figure stepped into his path.

Sano didn't wait for the person to speak. He pushed past it and lunged for the door. His feet hit the garden running.

“Eii-
chan
!” From the corridor, a woman's voice spoke.

Too late Sano saw the dark shape emerge from the shadows on his right. He sidestepped, but not quickly enough. The full force of the man's weight knocked him to the ground. The impact jarred his bones. His mask flew off his face; he dropped his sword. Pain burst in his left hip, which took the brunt of his fall. He fought and struggled, grabbing for his sword. But his assailant's strong hands were turning him onto his stomach, pressing his face into the dirt. Heavy knees came down on the small of his back. Steel arms caught his chest and shoulders in a fierce hug. Slowly, relentlessly, they bent his back upward. Sano gave an involuntary cry as pain shot through his spine. The man was going to break it! Jaws clenched, sweat running down his face, he resisted the pressure. It continued. Back, back his spine arched. He could almost feel the snap …

“No!” The woman's voice rapped out the order.

To Sano's immense relief, his assailant let go of him. The weight lifted from his body. Weakly he flopped over onto his back—sore, but unbroken—to face his captors.

Lady Niu stood over him. Her hair hung loose around her shoulders, and her grim face, with its layer of white makeup, looked ghostly in the flickering lantern light. The shimmering folds of her dark, sashless kimono enhanced her eerie appearance. With both hands she held a wicked-looking spear poised over his chest.

Then she smiled, lips parting to reveal her gleaming black teeth. She withdrew the spear.

“Bring him into the house, Eii-
chan
,” she said to the hulking manservant who stood beside her. “We will not kill him … yet.”