Concubine's Tattoo (38 page)

With the guards following, Priest Ryuko strode out of the room. The door slammed. For a moment, Yanagisawa stared after the harbinger of evil. Then he crouched on the tatami, arms wrapped around his knees. He felt himself shrinking into the miserable little boy he'd once been. Again his back ached from the blows of his father's wooden pole. The sharp voice echoed down through the years: "You're stupid, weak, incompetent, pitiful... You bring nothing but disgrace to this family!"

Yanagisawa breathed the desolate atmosphere of his youth-that amalgam of rain, decaying wood, drafty rooms, and tears. Now the past had caught up with the present. Ghastly scenarios crowded Yanagisawa's mind.

He saw Tokugawa Tsunayoshi's face, pinched with hurt and anger; heard him say, "After all I've given you, how could you treat me this way? Exile is too good for you, and so is ritual suicide. For your treasonous act against my family, I sentence you to execution!"

He felt iron shackles lock around his wrists and ankles. Soldiers dragged him to the execution ground. A jeering horde threw rocks and garbage, while his enemies applauded. Gawkers surrounded him as the soldiers forced him to kneel beside the executioner. Nearby waited the wooden frame on which his corpse would be displayed at the Nihonbashi Bridge. Chamberlain Yanagisawa realized that his father's prediction had come true: his stupidity and incompetence had brought him to the ultimate disgrace, the punishment he deserved.

And the last thing he saw before the sword severed his head was Sano Ichiro, Japan's new chamberlain, standing in the place of honor at Tokugawa Tsunayoshi's right.

Hatred for Sano seared Yanagisawa like a red-hot skewer twisted through his innards, rousing him from his paralysis. Anger flooded him like a healing tonic. With great relief, he felt himself expand to fill his adult persona and the world that his intelligence and strength had created. He surged to his feet. He didn't have to yield to Sano, Lady Keisho-in, or Ryuko. He wouldn't give up life without a fight, as his brother Yoshihiro had. Chamberlain Yanagisawa paced the room. Action restored his sense of power. Now he focused all his energy on solving his problem.

Sabotaging the murder investigation was the least of Yanagisawa's concerns, although he still hoped Sano would fail and disgrace himself. Instead Yanagisawa devised a strategy for combating Sano and Lady Keisho-in's retaliation. Again the plan would accomplish a double purpose. Again it would involve Shichisaburo.

The actor had ruined Chamberlain Yanagisawa's first brilliant scheme. Yanagisawa regretted becoming so entangled with him. He should have discarded the boy long ago; he should never have let infatuation blind him to the danger of using an amateur instead of a professional agent. In a rare moment of honesty, he acknowledged his mistake. Pathetically hungry for love, smitten with the actor, he'd suffered a fatal lapse of judgment. The howling emptiness still yawned within him; he teetered on the brink. His own weakness and need were his greatest enemies.

Then Chamberlain Yanagisawa placed the blame where it truly belonged: on the inept, na‹ve Shichisaburo, whom he despised almost as much as he did Sano. Relief sealed the abyss. This time his plan would work. A perfect expression of his genius, it would save him, while ending his disastrous relationship with the actor. His dream of ruling Japan, though deferred, was still possible.

Yanagisawa's breath came in gasps, as if he'd just fought a battle; exhaustion weakened him. But his smile returned as he gathered up the scattered pins and replaced them on the map.

On his way to see Lady Harume's secret lover, Sano stopped at Edo Jail. The eta settlement was unfamiliar territory to him, and he needed a guide who could introduce him to Chief Danzaemon. Mura, assistant to Dr. Ito, was the only eta Sano knew. They traveled to Nihonbashi's northern outskirts, Sano on horseback and Mura walking behind him. Beyond the last scattered houses of Edo proper, they traversed an expanse of weed-infested wasteland where stray dogs foraged through piles of trash. On the opposite side was the eta settlement, a sprawling village of huts surrounded by a wooden fence.

Mura led the way through a gate that consisted of a gap in the rough plank fence, then down narrow, crooked lanes awash in mud. Beside these ran open gutters full of reeking sewage. The houses were tiny shacks assembled from scrap wood and paper. In the doorways, women cooked over open fires, scrubbed laundry, or nursed babies. Children ran barefoot. Everyone gaped, then dropped to their knees as Sano passed: Probably they'd never seen a bakufu official enter their community. Clouds of smoke and steam billowed over the settlement, creating a foul miasma that stank of decaying flesh. Sano tried not to breathe. He'd eaten a hasty meal before leaving Asakusa, but now, as nausea gripped his stomach, he wished he hadn't.

"It's the tanneries, master," Mura said apologetically.

Sano hoped he could hide his distaste for the settlement when he questioned its chief. Such different worlds Lady Harume and her lover had inhabited!

Following Mura down a dim passage, Sano looked into a courtyard. A lye pond full of carcasses bubbled. Men stirred it with sticks, while women sprinkled salt on freshly flayed hides. Cauldrons steamed on open hearths; a partially butchered horse oozed blood and viscera. When a gust of wind wafted rancid fumes toward Sano, he nearly vomited. Feeling immersed in spiritual pollution, he resisted the urge to flee. How could Lady Harume have ignored society's taboos to love a man contaminated by this place? What had brought her and Danzaemon together "in the shadow between two existences"?

Mura halted. "There he is, master."

Toward Sano came three adult male eta, walking with brisk, purposeful strides. The middle, youngest one immediately drew his attention.

Thin as a sapling, his body carried no excess flesh to soften the hardness of bone and muscle. Strong tendons stood out like cords in his neck. Sharp-edged planes carved his face into a pattern of angles. His thin mouth was compressed in a resolute line. Thick, cropped hair grew back from a deep peak above his brow like a hawk's crest. Head high and shoulders squared, he projected an aura of fierce nobility at odds with his patched, faded clothes and eta status. The two swords he wore proclaimed his identity.

Danzaemon, chief of the outcasts, knelt and bowed. His two companions did the same, but while the gesture humbled them, Danzaemon's dignity elevated it to a ritual that honored himself as well as Sano. Arms outstretched, forehead to the ground, he said, "I beg to be of service, master." His quiet tone, while respectful, bore no obsequiousness.

"Please rise." Impressed by the chief's poise, which would have done a samurai proud, Sano dismounted and addressed Danzaemon politely. "I need your help in an important matter."

With athletic grace, Danzaemon stood. At his command, his men also rose, keeping their heads inclined. The eta chief turned a measuring gaze on Sano, who saw with surprise that he wasn't more than twenty-five years old. But Danzaemon's eyes belonged to someone who'd seen a lifetime of toil, poverty, violence, and suffering. A long, puckered scar down his left cheek bespoke his fight for survival in the harsh world of the outcasts. He was handsome in a tough, savage way, and Sano could see the appeal he'd held for Lady Harume.

Mura performed the introductions. Sano said, "I'm investigating the murder of the shogun's concubine Lady Harume, and I-"

At the mention of her name, instant awareness flashed in the eta chief's eyes: He knew why Sano had come. His men sprang to attention, unhooking clubs from their sashes. They evidently thought Sano had come to kill Danzaemon for violating the shogun's lady. Although the penalty for attacking a samurai was death, they were prepared to defend their leader.

Raising his hands in a gesture of entreaty, Sano said, "I'm not here to hurt anyone. I just need to ask Chief Danzaemon some questions."

"Stand back," Danzaemon ordered with the authority of a commanding general.

The men retreated, though Sano could still feel their hostility toward him, a member of the dreaded samurai class. He faced Danzaemon. "Can we talk in private?"

"Yes, master. I'll do my best to assist you."

Danzaemon spoke in the same soft, respectful voice with which he'd greeted Sano. His speech was more cultured than Sano had expected, probably because of his contact with samurai officials. Now Sano found himself subjected to the eta chief's scrutiny. A kind of mutual scenting occurred, as if between two animals from different packs. A crowd of eta gathered to watch. Sano sensed in them a reverence for their leader that matched any his own people felt toward their lords. Looking at Danzaemon across the vast barrier created by class and experience, Sano knew in a flash of intuition that under different circumstances, the two of them could have been comrades. Danzaemon's slight nod acknowledged that he realized it, too.

"You're the friend of Dr. Ito," he said. The statement sealed their understanding. "We can go to my house. It's nicer there." His manner conveyed a stoic acceptance of his squalid domain and Sano's authority over him.

"Yes. Please." Sano gave his relieved assent.

The house to which Danzaemon led Sano and Mura was larger and in better condition than the others. It had solid wooden walls, an intact roof, and untorn paper panes behind the window bars. Danzaemon's lieutenants stood sentry outside, while Mura tended Sano's horse. Inside the house, people of all ages, far too many for them all to be family members, filled the main room. A blind man and two cripples sat against the wall. Mothers cradled babies who looked too frail to live. Men awaited Danzaemon's counsel. A young pregnant woman passed out bowls of soup. Upon Sano's arrival, all activity and conversation ceased. The adults prostrated themselves, and the mothers pressed the infants' small heads to the floor.

Danzaemon ushered Sano into a smaller, vacant room. Cheaply furnished but spotlessly clean, it held a desk, a chest, and open cupboards. One cupboard held folded bedding and clothes; the two others, full of ledgers and papers, suggested that the only literate member of his caste devoted more time to work than rest. The window overlooked a yard where men were butchering an ox. Evidently Danzaemon's clan supported itself by practicing a trade; he didn't abuse his position by extorting money from his people. Sano felt awed by the young chief's responsibilities. Did many samurai lords have more, or attend to them with any greater apparent dedication?

Perhaps Lady Harume had admired this trait as well as Danzaemon's looks and manner. Never before had Sano seen such strong proof that character transcended class.

Danzaemon knelt on the mat. Sano took the spot opposite him. "You're here because you've found out about my relationship with Lady Harume," Danzaemon said without straining their relations by inviting a samurai to eat and drink with an eta. "Thank you for sparing my life. I've committed an inexcusable crime. I deserve to die, and it's your right to kill me." The eta chief's mouth thinned in a bitter smile. "But if you did, you wouldn't get the answers you want, would you?"

In spite of the young man's controlled tone and expression, Sano observed signs of grief: the bleakness in his eyes; lines of strain around his mouth. Danzaemon mourned Lady Harume as no one else did.

"Love may not be a good excuse for breaking the law," Sano said, "but it's a reason I can understand." He would do anything for Reiko, risk any danger, betray any other loyalty. "I won't punish you for loving unwisely. If you tell me about you and Lady Harume, I'll try to be fair."

The current of mutual empathy again flashed between them. Danzaemon inhaled a tremulous breath and released it in a shuddering sigh. Sano watched his need to speak of his lover warring with the reluctance to compromise himself and his people by saying something that might tax Sano's tolerance. Need triumphed over prudence.

"We met by chance. At a temple in Asakusa." Danzaemon spoke haltingly, looking down at his hands, clasped in his lap. "Even though a long time had passed, I recognized her at once. And she recognized me."

"You knew each other before?"

"Yes. When we were children. My uncle used to take me to Fukagawa to gather shellfish on the beach every month. He met Harume's mother and became her client. We would go to her houseboat. While I waited for them to finish, Harume and I played together."

So he'd been correct in guessing that part of the solution to the mystery of Lady Harume's life lay in her past, Sano thought. Blue Apple, the nighthawk prostitute desperate enough to accept eta clients, had unwittingly set the course of her daughter's future.

A slight, tender smile curved Danzaemon's lips. "Harume was so small and pretty, but tough, too. She was six years younger than I, but not afraid of anything. I taught her to throw stones, fight with sticks, and swim. It never mattered to her that I was eta. We were like sister and brother. While I was with her, I could forget... everything else."

His hands turned palms up, as if accepting a burden-an eloquent gesture that conveyed the young boy's unhappy knowledge of his destiny. "Then Harume's mother died. She went to live with her father. I thought I would never see her again."

This was because Danzaemon was one of the low-class companions from whom Jimba had separated Harume, Sano realized. Yet the horse dealer had not reckoned with the power of fate.

"When we met in the cemetery, at first it seemed as if no time had passed at all," the eta chief continued. "We talked the way we did in Fukagawa. We were so glad to see each other." Then he uttered a humorless chuckle. "But of course everything was different. She was no longer a little girl, but a beautiful woman-and the shogun's concubine. I'm a grown man who should have known better than to go near her. But what we felt for each other was so sudden, and strong, and wonderful... When she said she had a room at an inn and asked me to go there with her, I couldn't refuse."

Sano marveled at the attraction so powerful that Harume and Danzaemon had courted death to consummate their desire. A centuries-old taboo, defeated by the even more ancient force of sex.