The Shogun's Daughter (36 page)

The last thing he really wanted was to serve the fool who’d defaced him and let him and his family be condemned to death. Yet Sano really did want to finish the investigation. If things went wrong today, he wouldn’t like to die with the case unsolved. He did want justice for Tsuruhime, whom everyone else seemed to have forgotten.

Captain Onoda looked impressed. “I’d like to help you, but I can’t let you leave the premises.”

“I’m not asking to leave. I think I already know who killed Tsuruhime. It’s the woman who nursed her when she had smallpox. Her name is Namiji. If I can just talk to her, I’ll find out whether she’s guilty. Will you bring her to me?”

Captain Onoda considered. “I don’t see how it could hurt.” He sent a soldier to fetch Namiji. He whispered to Sano, “I always thought you were the most honorable samurai in the regime. I can hardly believe you killed Yoshisato. It was wrong of you, but I know you must have meant well.”

“A thousand thanks.” Sano bowed, touched by these kind words, hating to trick the man.

*   *   *

INSIDE THE MANSION’S
private chambers, Masahiro pulled out a section of drawers in the cabinets built against the wall. It rolled out on oiled wheels. He bent, inserted his fingers into a groove in the floorboards, and pried. A large, square panel popped up. The hole it had covered gave access to the space under the building.

Taeko, Tatsuo, and Akiko took turns jumping down the hole. They crouched beneath the house. Midori lowered herself into the hole while Reiko held the baby. Reiko handed the baby down to Midori, then awkwardly followed the others. They waited in the earth-smelling darkness until Masahiro joined them. Then they began crawling.

Masahiro led. Reiko had forbidden the children to play under the house because it was dirty and inhabited by poisonous spiders, but now she was glad he’d disobeyed. Despite the meager light coming through the lattice panels that covered the building’s foundation, he moved swiftly between the stone posts that supported the mansion. The other children and Midori, the baby riding on her back, kept pace with him as he angled under wings and corridors, around courtyards and gardens. Reiko lagged behind. Her heavy belly dangled. She felt the twinge of a contraction, but she didn’t stop until she caught up with the others at the back of the mansion. Through the diamond-shaped openings in the lattice Reiko saw the sandaled feet and armored legs of troops outside. She and the others huddled together, waiting.

*   *   *

SHOUTS BLARED. A
soldier ran into the courtyard, where Sano stood with Captain Onoda. “That big fellow has gone crazy! We need help!”

Calling troops to accompany him, Captain Onoda followed the soldier. Sano trailed them to the yard where he and Masahiro practiced martial arts. Marume knelt on the ground, clutching a kitchen knife, surrounded by troops.

“Go away!” he yelled. An empty wine jar lay beside him. “Leave me alone!”

“He’s going to commit
seppuku,
” said the soldier who’d called for help.

“He can’t,” Captain Onoda said with concern. “Chamberlain Yanagisawa said that all Sano’s retainers are to be kept alive, so they can be executed after he’s dead.”

“Let me take my life honorably.” Marume’s eyes were red and teary from the vinegar he’d splashed in them. He reeked of the liquor he’d poured on himself.

“Seize him,” Captain Onoda ordered.

The soldiers moved in on Marume. He waved the knife at them. They leaped back. He tore open his kimono and held the knife to his belly.

“Surrender, Marume-
san,
” Sano said. “It’s the law.” He hoped his words didn’t sound phony and rehearsed.

“Please don’t make me,” Marume blubbered. “I don’t want to die in disgrace!” He was a much better actor than Sano.

They argued back and forth, deliberately wasting time. Marume grew louder, wilder. More troops rushed over to watch. When they stopped coming, Sano said, “Marume-
san,
this is my last order to you: Give me that knife!”

Weeping dramatically, Marume handed the knife to Sano. The troops rushed Marume, grabbed him, and dragged him to the barracks.

*   *   *

REIKO HEARD MARUME
bellowing. She peeked through the lattice. The troops had gone to see what the commotion was. Reiko, Masahiro, and Midori tore off their outer robes and the younger children’s. They all wore white silk garments underneath. Reiko and Midori draped their heads with white shawls. Masahiro pushed the lattice panel. It popped loose. He scooted out from under the house, looked around, then beckoned. In the distance, Marume cursed. Midori handed the baby to Masahiro and crawled out next. She and Masahiro helped Reiko out.

The younger children scrambled after her. Tatsuo and Akiko suppressed giggles. This was a game to them. Taeko was as somber as Masahiro and the women. Reiko took Akiko’s hand and Taeko’s. Midori wrapped the end of her shawl around the baby and took Tatsuo’s hand. Everyone ran for the gate.

Masahiro opened it a crack. Reiko saw a flurry of white garments and heard the clap of sandals on the pavement as people going to the funeral walked past. Masahiro slipped out the gate first. Blending with the white-robed people, he ambled down the street. Reiko shooed Midori and Tatsuo out, then followed with Akiko and Taeko, closing the gate behind her. Draping her shawl over her face, she glanced anxiously backward.

Would Sano get out alive?

She swallowed her fear for him and concentrated on her surroundings. Although there were other children of Masahiro’s age in the crowd, Taeko, Tatsuo, and Akiko were the youngest. Nobody except Midori had an infant. Nobody except Reiko was pregnant. She felt dangerously conspicuous. Ahead, Masahiro loitered in the passage. Midori and Tatsuo caught up with him. Hurrying Akiko and Taeko through the crowd, Reiko joined her group.

“You go on ahead,” she whispered to Midori. “Take Akiko with you and Taeko and Tatsuo.”

“Aren’t you and Masahiro coming?” Midori said, startled.

“We’ll come later.”

“But Sano-
san
said we’re supposed to sneak out of town with the funeral procession and go to his mother’s house in Yamato.” That village was a few days’ journey from Edo. Heaven knew how they would manage the journey without money or help, but they must try; it was better than staying home and waiting to die. “Sano-
san
will meet us there. That was the plan.”

“We’re going to exonerate him,” Reiko whispered.

Midori frowned, uncomprehending. “Does he know?”

“No,” Masahiro said. “If we’d told him, he never would have agreed to it.”

Reiko hated to deceive Sano, but she had to make one last attempt to prove his innocence. Even if they all managed to escape, the murder and treason conviction would stick to them. They would always be hunted. And Sano wouldn’t be able to endure the disgrace.

“But what if you’re caught before you can get out of the castle?” Midori demanded. “That’s not what Sano-
san
would want!”

Reiko knew that Sano wanted most of all to save her and the children. But she and Masahiro would gladly risk themselves for a chance to save him. “This is what we’re doing.”

Panic shone in Midori’s eyes. “I can’t go by myself!”

“There’s no time to argue! Pretty soon the guards at home will notice we’re missing. Just go!” Reiko pushed her daughter at Midori.

“Mama,” Akiko protested.

“Go with Midori,” Reiko said.

“I want you to come!” Akiko sucked in her breath, opened her mouth wide.

She was about to have a tantrum. Reiko quickly put her hand over Akiko’s mouth and squeezed hard. Akiko yipped in pain.

“Be a good girl and go,” Reiko said in a firm voice. “Or you’ll get us all killed!” She dropped her hand.

Akiko stared at her, furious yet shocked silent because Reiko had never treated her so harshly. Her cheeks had red marks from Reiko’s fingers.

The stream of white-robed people going to the palace had thinned. Soon there wouldn’t be crowds to hide among. Masahiro whispered, “Mother, hurry!”

As she and Masahiro joined the march uphill, Reiko couldn’t look backward. She’d left Akiko again. Akiko wouldn’t forget this time. If Akiko escaped safely and Reiko didn’t, Akiko’s last memory of her mother would be Reiko walking away from her. Reiko blinked away tears as she trudged behind Masahiro.

They didn’t see Taeko run after them or hear Midori frantically calling her daughter.

*   *   *

HIRATA AND DEGUCHI
stood in the hillside clearing, by a bonfire they’d built. They lifted their chins, their bodies still, all their senses alert. Hirata exerted all his mental discipline to keep calm. Tahara and Kitano would arrive soon. He mustn’t let emotions impair his judgment or his reflexes. He mustn’t lose the slightest advantage.

He looked sideways at Deguchi, whose expression was inscrutable. But Hirata knew Deguchi was feeling the same doubts about the wisdom of their plan. They stood without speaking or touching, united by their terror, chained to a course from which they couldn’t deviate.

The familiar aura pulsed distantly, ominously, in the cool morning air. “Here they come,” Hirata said.

37

AT THE PALACE,
Masahiro gaped at the hundreds of white-robed mourners, the priests with their musical instruments, the troops with their lanterns and banners. “How are we going to find Lady Nobuko in all this?”

“Maybe she’s still in her quarters,” Reiko said.

She and Masahiro hurried around the palace to the separate wing of the Large Interior, where Lady Nobuko lived. They dodged patrolling troops. They didn’t knock on the door of the little house attached to the main building. They had no time for formalities, and Reiko wasn’t giving Lady Nobuko the chance to refuse to speak to her. She and Masahiro needed a confession fast. They walked right in.

The entryway and the parlor were deserted. Reiko heard a soft rustling sound. She and Masahiro followed it to an inner chamber. There Lady Nobuko lay in bed. Her gray silk night robe rustled as she tried to make herself comfortable. Reiko stalked into the room, Masahiro behind her. Lady Nobuko rolled over to face them. Her complexion was gray, without makeup, her hair straggly from tossing in bed. She was apparently too ill to attend the funeral. The spasm on the right side of her face pulled the muscles so tight that the eye was screwed shut in pain. Her left eye stared indignantly at Reiko.

“I thought you were under house arrest,” she said.

“Not at the moment,” Reiko said.

Lady Nobuko drew a breath to call for help. Reiko snatched a bamboo hair spike off the dressing table and held the sharp tip to Lady Nobuko’s withered throat. “Don’t.” Never mind that Lady Nobuko was the shogun’s wife; Reiko hadn’t the patience to be respectful.

“What do you want with me?” Lady Nobuko lay on her back, palms pressed against the bed, her good eye rolling as she tried to see Reiko and the spike at the same time.

“I want you to admit that you know my husband is innocent and my son and I didn’t conspire with him to murder Yoshisato,” Reiko said.

“I don’t know anything of the sort!”

“Yes, you do,” Masahiro said. “You’re the arsonist. You let my father be blamed.” He was shaking with fury, his fists clenched. Reiko was afraid he would hit Lady Nobuko, even though Reiko and Sano had taught him never to hit a woman. “You were going to let our family be killed for what you did!”

“I didn’t—” The spasm around Lady Nobuko’s eye tightened.

“Show her,” Reiko said.

Masahiro reached inside his kimono, whipped out the fire hood, and shook it in Lady Nobuko’s face. “This is yours. Yanagisawa’s men found it by the burned building.”

“It’s not mine.” Lady Nobuko spoke vehemently, but recognition opened her eye wider.

“Don’t lie to us!” Masahiro shouted. “You wore it while you set the fire, so you wouldn’t get burned. It got caught on a bush when you ran away.”

“No.” Shrinking from the hairpin, Lady Nobuko said to Reiko, “I didn’t set the fire. That’s the truth. If you’ll take that thing away, I’ll tell you what happened that night.”

Against her will, Reiko began to think she and Masahiro had been wrong about Lady Nobuko. Her intuition said so.

“Mother, don’t let her fool you,” Masahiro said.

Reiko shushed him. She retracted the hairpin slightly. “Tell me.”

Gasping, Lady Nobuko said, “The fire bells woke me up. My headache was terrible. I called Korika. She brought my medicine and put a wet cloth over my eyes. She was out of breath, as if she’d been running.” Lady Nobuko finished in a low, sorrowful voice, “She smelled like smoke. That hood isn’t mine. It’s Korika’s.”

“Korika set the fire, then.” Reiko wasn’t entirely surprised. The devoted lady-in-waiting had fulfilled her mistress’s wish for revenge on Yanagisawa.

“She’s just trying to shift the blame,” Masahiro scoffed.

“I don’t think so,” Reiko said, although reluctant to absolve Lady Nobuko. “Korika vouched that Lady Nobuko was at home when the fire started, but if Lady Nobuko was asleep, Korika hasn’t anyone to vouch for her. Korika could be guilty. Where is she?”

“She went to the privy,” Lady Nobuko said.

“Let’s hear what she has to say.” Reiko knew time was speeding by; every moment they remained in the castle increased the chances that she and Masahiro would be caught. But they needed the truth about Yoshisato’s murder and a valid confession that would leave no doubt in anyone’s mind that Sano was innocent. Reiko told Masahiro, “Get Korika.”

*   *   *

WHILE THE TROOPS
were busy taking Marume to the barracks and settling him down, Sano ran to his private chambers. He saw the bank of drawers pulled away from the wall. The floor panel lay by the hole that led to the space under the house. Reiko, Masahiro, Akiko, and Midori and her children were gone.

Sano let out his breath in relief that immediately gave way to apprehension. Would someone recognize them and stop them before they got out of the castle? Would the troops discover they were missing before they could leave town? Was anywhere safe from Yanagisawa’s long reach? Sano closed his mind to those questions. It was too late to stop the plan he’d set in action or feel ashamed because running away seemed cowardly. Sano told himself that this was like a warlord retreating from the battlefield to live and fight for his honor another day. For now he must conceal his family’s absence for as long as possible.