The Ronin's Mistress (24 page)

He’d seen naked women before—the housemaids who opened their robes to fan themselves on hot days, the peasant girls who dived for shellfish at the beach—and he’d never thought anything of it. But the excitement that had been growing inside him ever since he’d met Okaru now surged with a force like thunder. Such a strong, strange desire gripped him that he could hardly breathe.

Oblivious to him, Okaru soaped her chest and stomach; she twisted around to scrub her back. When she washed between her legs, her singing lapsed into a little purr of pleasure. His body’s quickening need dizzied Masahiro. Bewildered by what was happening to him, he was terrified that Okaru would catch him spying on her, but he couldn’t stop.

Okaru rose, lifting a bucket of water. As she poured the water over herself, she turned. Masahiro stood open-mouthed, watching the water cascade down her breasts. His gaze followed its spill. Her pubis was shaved, the cleft between her legs clearly visible.

Masahiro’s excitement soared. Still unaware of his presence, Okaru stepped into the sunken bathtub. Masahiro heard footsteps. Cousin Chiyo came walking around the corner. She saw him, smiled, and started to speak. He sprang away from the bath chamber. Guilty shame flushed his face. Chiyo stopped, puzzled. Her glance moved from him to the bath chamber. She saw Okaru and said sharply, “Okaru-
san.
When you take a bath, please close the door.”

Masahiro heard Okaru say “Oh, I’m sorry” and Chiyo slide the door shut. He ran like a burglar caught in the act.

21

WHEN REIKO ARRIVED
home from her trip to the convent, Chiyo met her on the veranda and said, “May I speak to you?”

“Of course,” Reiko said. “You can come with me to take Okaru to see Oishi. We can talk on the way there.”

Chiyo seemed to search for words. “I must talk to you alone. Now, if you don’t mind.”

“Well, then, let’s go inside,” Reiko said, “so you don’t catch cold.”

“Out here is better.”

“All right, now I’m curious,” Reiko said. “What is it?”

Chiyo said haltingly, “It’s about Okaru.”

“Has she done something to upset you?” Reiko wasn’t pleased to think that her friend’s dislike of her guest had worsened. She shouldn’t have left them alone together.

“This isn’t in regard to me.” Chiyo sounded unusually formal, constrained. “I don’t think Okaru is good to have around the children.”

“Because of her station in life?” Reiko couldn’t help being offended by Chiyo’s prejudice.

“That’s not what I mean,” Chiyo hastened to say, then faltered. “It’s her manners.”

“Even if Okaru’s manners aren’t perfect, I don’t think they’ll rub off on Masahiro or Akiko.”

“I’m afraid she’ll be harmful to them … in other ways.”

Reiko began to lose her patience. “She wouldn’t hurt them. Why, I saw her playing with Akiko yesterday, and she was so gentle and kind.”

“It’s not Akiko that I’m most worried about.”

“You’re worried about Masahiro?” Reiko was confused. “He can take care of himself.”

“Perhaps not as well as you think,” Chiyo murmured.

Before Reiko could ask Chiyo to say exactly what she meant, Okaru came out the door. Her lovely young face was bright with eagerness. “Oh, good, you’re back!” she said to Reiko. “Can we go and see Oishi now?”

Hirata walked up to the house, followed by Sano. Sano greeted everyone, then said to Reiko and Hirata, “The supreme court convenes in a few moments, and I have to testify. If you’ve got any new information for me, tell me now.”

Reiko cast a mystified glance at Chiyo, who gazed helplessly back at her. Whatever Chiyo was trying to tell her would have to wait.

*   *   *

SANO ARRIVED IN
the palace to find the supreme court already seated. Once again Inspector General Nakae headed the row of Chamberlain Yanagisawa’s seven cronies, who included Lord Nabeshima and Colonel Hitomi. Magistrate Ueda headed the row of seven men facing them, with old Minister Motoori and Finance Superintendent Ogiwara. They had already begun to discuss the case, and Sano could see that the acrimony had grown.

“Greetings, Sano-
san,
” Magistrate Ueda said. “Have you anything new to report?”

Sano knelt at the end of the rows and bowed. “Quite a bit.”

“May it help us settle our differences before something regrettable happens,” said Inspector General Nakae, the squattest, surliest pumpkin in his patch.

Chamberlain Yanagisawa sauntered into the room. Sano felt a quick, hot leap of anger. The judges looked surprised. Magistrate Ueda addressed Yanagisawa in a voice that cloaked displeasure and hostility in politeness. “My apologies, but I must ask you to leave, Honorable Chamberlain. The supreme court’s proceedings are private and no outsiders can be present unless asked to testify.”

Yanagisawa smiled. “You shall make an exception for me.” His tone said that he outranked the judges, and anyone who objected to his behavior would pay. He seated himself at the head of the two rows. Magistrate Ueda compressed his mouth in exasperation. Yanagisawa said with mocking courtesy, “Proceed with your report, Sano-
san.
I’m all ears.”

Sano thought that Yanagisawa couldn’t resist interfering with his work for the supreme court. Or perhaps Yanagisawa wanted to influence the verdict. But he might just be curious about how the court was progressing. At any rate, Sano couldn’t disobey an order from the shogun’s second-in-command.

Fortified with the information that he and Hirata and Reiko had collected and shared earlier, Sano began his testimony with the story that Kajikawa had told him about Lord Asano’s botched attempt to kill Kira.

“I’ll allow open discussion,” Magistrate Ueda said.

“So Kajikawa changed the statement he gave during the investigation into the attack,” Superintendent Ogiwara said in his theatrical voice. “Back then, he said Lord Asano gave no indication of why he attacked Kira. Now he says that Lord Asano called Kira corrupt.”

The inspector general grimaced as he scribbled notes. “But did he really? If so, Kajikawa should have said so back then.”

Sano could tell that Magistrate Ueda and Superintendent Ogiwara welcomed the news that Lord Asano’s attack might have been justified, but Inspector General Nakae and his side didn’t. Sano glanced at Yanagisawa. The chamberlain wore his smoothest countenance, but Sano knew he was displeased because Sano had unearthed new evidence.

Lord Nabeshima, seated beside the inspector general, scornfully discredited the castle keeper’s evidence. “There’s nothing to support the theory that Kira did anything wrong.”

“There is.” Sano relayed Lady Asano’s story, which Reiko had told him, of Kira’s campaign to destroy her husband.

“Deplorable,” said Minister Motoori from Magistrate Ueda’s side. He squinted, half blind but astute, his crippled limbs drawn up like gnarled twigs under his black robes. “Kira preyed on a weak, unstable man. He drove Lord Asano to a mental breakdown.”

“I say that constitutes a legitimate quarrel,” Superintendent Ogiwara boomed.

“One in which Kira was the aggressor,” Minister Motoori clarified. “He goaded Lord Asano into attacking him. If Lord Asano hadn’t kept his mouth shut, he would have been excused and Kira would have been the one sentenced to death, for provoking violence in Edo Castle. The forty-seven
r
ō
nin
wouldn’t have needed to avenge Lord Asano, and we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

“The only information you’ve brought us about the quarrel comes from Lord Asano, secondhand,” Inspector General Nakae said to Sano. “Consider this: What did the first witness hear? Only a snippet of conversation between Kira and Lord Asano. And who is the second witness? She’s Lord Asano’s wife. She’s probably looking for someone to blame for his death and her hard life. She’s throwing mud on Kira, now that he’s not around to contradict her story.”

“Even if her story is true, the quarrel sounds like a personal feud to me,” said Colonel Hitomi, the inspector general’s ally. The old soldier sat with his cane across his knees. “What Lady Asano described isn’t a crime, and I wouldn’t call it corruption.”

“I agree,” Lord Nabeshima said. “Corruption involves crimes against the government.”

“I’ve found evidence that Kira’s campaign against Lord Asano was part of a crime against the government.” Sano told the story Hirata had heard from Toda the spy, of the goods confiscated from Ako Castle, the missing gold, and Kira’s discharged debt.

The judges were shocked wordless. Yanagisawa met Sano’s gaze. He slowly brought his hands together, then moved them apart, together and apart, in silent, mocking applause.

Magistrate Ueda recovered his voice. “So it’s possible that Kira goaded Lord Asano into drawing a sword in Edo Castle, in order to have his estate confiscated and steal his gold.”

“That’s what I would call corruption,” General Hitomi said reluctantly. “The gold rightfully belonged to the government. Kira cheated the shogun.”

Inspector General Nakae narrowed his eyes at his ally who’d switched sides on him. “You’re being premature. Has Sano-
san
offered any proof for his theory? No. It sounds to me as if he’s fabricated the whole thing out of a few unconnected circumstances.”

“These could be the extenuating circumstances we’ve been looking for.” Superintendent Ogiwara’s large, protuberant eyes gleamed with satisfaction. “They could justify the shogun voiding his original decision to exempt Kira from punishment for the incident between him and Lord Asano.”

Minister Motoori said, “This is the one thing that would allow the shogun to change his mind without losing face: Kira committed a crime against him. Kira deserved to be punished.”

“You’re building a case out of air and nonsense!” Inspector General Nakae protested. “The theory is incredibly far-fetched!”

“Far-fetched or not, this is the best explanation for Kira’s actions that I’ve heard,” Magistrate Ueda said.

Sano watched Chamberlain Yanagisawa, who listened with a calculating look in his eyes. The judges who hadn’t spoken yesterday seemed even more inhibited today, by Yanagisawa’s presence.

“What do you think?” Sano asked Yanagisawa.

The chamberlain smiled at Sano’s attempt to learn where he stood on the issue. “I think the judges should vote.”

His opinion had the force of an order from the shogun. Magistrate Ueda looked vexed and said, “We’ll take a blind vote.” He ordered Inspector General Nakae to tear a sheet of paper into strips, give one to each judge, and pass around his ink brush. Yanagisawa frowned in annoyance because the magistrate had circumvented his ploy to find out the judges’ positions. “Write ‘condemn’ or ‘pardon,’” Magistrate Ueda said. “Then pass your votes to me.”

Fourteen judges took turns writing while they screened their papers with their hands. They folded the papers into tight little packets. Magistrate Ueda collected the fourteen votes, unfolded them, and divided them face up into two piles. “Six in favor of condemning the forty-seven
r
ō
nin
this time. Eight in favor of pardoning.”

Sano felt his spirits rise; yet he wasn’t sure he believed in the evidence he’d presented that had swayed the court. Satisfaction showed on Minister Motoori’s and Superintendent Ogiwara’s faces. Lord Nabeshima looked appalled. Yanagisawa scrutinized the other judges, who kept their expressions carefully blank.

Inspector General Nakae burst out, “All of you who changed your vote to pardoning the forty-seven
r
ō
nin,
you’re damned fools!”

“Rule number five,” Magistrate Ueda said. “No rude language in the courtroom.”

“The hell with your rules!” Nakae retorted.

“Rule number six,” Magistrate Ueda said calmly. “Anyone who breaks the rules will—”

“Be thrown off the court?” Inspector General Nakae said, incredulous.

Lord Nabeshima came to the aid of his comrade. “You’d like to get rid of us, wouldn’t you? But you can’t. The shogun put us on the court. We stay unless he says go.”

“—will be escorted to a separate chamber, and will communicate with the other judges via written notes,” Magistrate Ueda finished.

Inspector General Nakae rose. An angry blush suffused his face; he looked more like an overripe, moldy pumpkin than ever. “Have you forgotten who you’re talking to?”

Lord Nabeshima stood, too. As he and Nakae loomed over Magistrate Ueda, he said, “You’re exceeding your authority.”

Sano felt the threat behind their words and the hot flare of their tempers. Colonel Hitomi reared up on his knees; Superintendent Ogiwara hopped into a defensive crouch, like a Kabuki actor playing a samurai ready for combat. The other judges recoiled in consternation. Even Yanagisawa looked unsettled. Was the supreme court about to self-destruct in a brawl?

Magistrate Ueda remained seated and unruffled. “Guards!” he called.

Four soldiers appeared, so quickly that Sano figured they’d been stationed nearby, trying to eavesdrop on the court.

“Take them to the east reception room,” Magistrate Ueda said.

Inspector General Nakae and Lord Nabeshima spluttered in indignation, but they went. A hostile silence followed their departure. Sano could tell that Magistrate Ueda’s high-handed action had offended other judges besides them. His heart sank because the quarrel boded as ill for him as for the court’s proceedings.

“The court will take a recess,” Magistrate Ueda said. “We’ll reconvene in an hour and try again.”

As everyone rose and filed out the door, Yanagisawa bumped shoulders with Sano. “It looks as if the judges won’t be able to reach a verdict at all, let alone one that pleases everyone.” He smiled a smug, vicious smile. “Lady Reiko and the children are sure to miss you when you’re gone.”