Dragon's King Palace (26 page)

Sano’s suspicions about the maid deepened. How had she obtained employment here without references? How could the Dragon King have planted a spy in the innermost heart of the Tokugawa regime? A disturbing possibility that had been lurking in the back of Sano’s mind now emerged into the forefront. Was the Dragon King someone in the regime, who could bypass rules while plotting against the shogun?

Innate caution warned Sano against jumping to premature conclusions and voicing this idea that would wreak havoc in the court. First he must determine whether Mariko had indeed been the kidnapper’s accomplice.

“We’ll ask the other women if they know where Mariko went that night,” Sano said.

But when he and Chizuru questioned the maids, concubines, and ladies-in-waiting, they found that Mariko hadn’t confided her plans to anyone. Everyone who’d known she had permission to leave the castle had believed her story about her sick mother.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t help you,” Chizuru said unhappily as she escorted Sano out of the Large Interior.

“You did help. You’ve shown me where to go next,” Sano said. “Mariko’s mother may have information about her daughter that could lead me to the kidnappers.”

“The door to the tower prison creaked open, and in strode two guards. Keisho-in and Lady Yanagisawa uttered startled exclamations; Midori squealed. Reiko experienced the frightening conviction that the men had come for her again, as she’d anticipated they would after they’d brought her back from the Dragon King’s castle more than an hour ago. She and the other women cowered together, braced for some new horror.

But the men just herded them into a corner and stood watch over them. Six more guards entered. They mopped the floor, carried out the brimming waste buckets, and returned them emptied and cleaned, while the women watched in amazement. They brought bedding,
tatami
to cover the floor, hot water in a basin, and cloths for washing. They set out bowls of dried fish, pickled vegetables, fruits, and eggs, and pots of rice and tea, then departed the room, securing the door behind them.

Keisho-in immediately fell upon the food, wolfing it down with sloppy abandon. “At last, they’ve decided to show me some proper respect,” she said. “It’s about time.”

“I think there’s another reason for their generosity,” Midori said with a smile at Reiko. “You must have made a good impression on their leader.”

Lady Yanagisawa just eyed Reiko in speculative silence. Reiko turned away from her friends, bent over the basin, and splashed water on her face, wishing she could cleanse away the fearsome impression the kidnappers’ leader had made on her. The other women didn’t know what had happened between her and their captor because she hadn’t said; she didn’t want to upset Midori or spur Keisho-in into another fit of rage. All she’d told them was that the man who called himself the Dragon King had given her food and not hurt her. She’d assured them that they were in no immediate danger, although the truth was that meeting the Dragon King had changed her own situation from bad to worse.

She looked at the cleaned room, and the furnishings and food the guards had brought. The Dragon King was wooing her with physical comforts. Reiko imagined what payment he expected. She shuddered, pressing a cloth over her face. But although she hated that she’d attracted an evil, unwanted admirer, she began to perceive that the Dragon King’s attraction to her was a vulnerability that she could perhaps exploit to her advantage. She lowered the cloth from her face as ideas raced and schemes bred in her mind.

A gentle touch on her arm startled Reiko. She turned and saw Lady Yanagisawa kneeling beside her.

“There’s more to the story of what passed between you and the Dragon King ... is there not?” Lady Yanagisawa whispered.

Reiko didn’t want to confide in the woman and encourage intimacy between them. But she owed Lady Yanagisawa for aiding the escape attempt and risking her own life. And Reiko needed to discuss her fears and schemes with someone.

She glanced at the other women, nodded covertly to Lady Yanagisawa, and whispered back, “I’ll tell you later, when they’re asleep.”

20

Within hours after Sano had reported to him on the suspects Hoshina had implicated that morning, Chamberlain Yanagisawa rode down the main boulevard of the
daimyo
district with his entourage of bodyguards. The crowds of mounted and strolling samurai parted to make way for him. He and his entourage halted outside an estate whose double-roofed gate displayed the circular crest of the Kii clan. No sooner had they alit from their horses, than the sentries opened the portals for them.

“Good afternoon, Honorable Chamberlain,” the sentries chorused, bowing.

Yanagisawa’s high rank gave him the right to walk into almost any house, and he was especially confident of a warm welcome here. He strode into a courtyard, where soldiers loitered and a guard captain greeted him.

“Lord Kii is in the martial arts training ground,” said the guard captain. “May I please escort you?”

“Never mind,” Yanagisawa said. “I know the way.”

As he and his men marched past the mansion’s buildings, he put to use a lifetime of practice at hiding his emotions. His face was serene and his manner dignified, while his spirit writhed in agony, desperation, and terror. He didn’t expect trouble from his impending talk with Lord Kii,
daimyo
of Sendai Province and head of the clan that Sano had named as a suspect in the kidnapping. All his woe centered around Hoshina.

Try as he might, he couldn’t expunge the awful memory of Hoshina begging for his life. He couldn’t deny his guilt or shame at refusing to protect Hoshina, or the threat that had turned his own existence into a nightmare. He must save Hoshina, and not only because of his love for the man. Losing Hoshina and their partnership would weaken him politically, rendering him vulnerable to his foes, who included Lord Matsudaira. Should he lose the shogun’s favor, they would hasten to attack him. His need to save Hoshina entwined with the absolute necessity of rescuing Lady Keisho-in and maintaining his power. Yanagisawa hoped that a talk with Lord Kii would further at least one of these purposes.

Lord Kii’s martial arts training ground was a large, rectangular field, surrounded by stables and full of samurai. Two armies, differentiated by colored flags worn on poles attached to their backs, fought a mock battle. The soldiers charged on horseback across the ground and struck at one another with wooden practice swords. Dust flew and war-whoops rang out. Commanders shouted orders; signalers blew conch trumpets. Entering the ground, Yanagisawa spied Lord Kii.

The
daimyo
, clad in armor and a helmet crowned with golden horns, watched from astride his horse, amid his retainers, at one end of the field. His armor added bulk to his massive physique. As Yanagisawa gestured for his entourage to wait and approached Lord Kii, the
daimyo
turned toward him. An iron mask with a snarling mouth shielded his face. He raised a leather-gloved hand to his armies.

“Stop!” he bellowed.

The battle and noise ceased. The armies separated, lining up in ranks as Lord Kii dismounted and walked over to meet Yanagisawa. Lord Kii removed his helmet and mask, revealing a ruddy, smiling face that was shaped like a pumpkin and youthful despite his sixty years. Crinkles around his eyes, and a gap between his front teeth, increased his amiable appearance. Despite his size, his position as one of Japan’s most powerful
daimyo
, and his enthusiasm for military training, Lord Kii was a meek, gentle-natured man.

“Welcome, Honorable Chamberlain,” he said. He and all his troops bowed. “What a privilege it is to have you here.”

“The privilege is mine,” Yanagisawa said, pretending he hadn’t just exercised his right to command Lord Kii’s attention whenever he wanted. “Please don’t interrupt your business on my account.”

Lord Kii signaled his troops, and the battle resumed. His retainers moved away to give him and Yanagisawa privacy to talk. “If I’d known you wanted to see me, I’d have come to you,” Lord Kii said with his usual eagerness to please. “But I’m glad of this chance to thank you again for your hospitality at the banquet seven nights ago.”

“An evening’s entertainment is the least I can give such a good friend as you,” Yanagisawa said.

Over the years he’d given Lord Kii many gifts and favors, courting his allegiance. The old
daimyo
had repaid Yanagisawa by pledging him military support if and when needed. Lord Kii, though none too bright, knew how much authority Yanagisawa had over the
bakufu
. Yanagisawa had easily convinced Lord Kii that together they would come out on top of any power struggle. Furthermore, Lord Kii was too afraid of Yanagisawa to refuse him anything. The
daimyo
was the perfect ally: He had wealth, lands, and troops, but no ambition of his own. A born follower, he now belonged to Yanagisawa.

“I’m surprised that you have time to call on me, when the court must be in an uproar over the kidnapping,” said Lord Kii.

“The kidnapping is why I’m here,” Yanagisawa said. “We must talk.”

“Certainly.”

They walked to a stand of tiered planks, used as seats during tournaments, that extended along the field. They stood on the highest tier, in the shade of a canopy.

“Did you know that the kidnapper has demanded the execution of Police Commissioner Hoshina in exchange for returning Lady Keisho-in?” Yanagisawa said.

“So I’ve heard,” said Lord Kii. “How unfortunate for Hoshina-
san
, and for you, Honorable Chamberlain. Please accept my sympathy.”

Yanagisawa watched the
daimyo
closely, but could detect no guile beneath his sincere manner. Apparently Lord Kii didn’t know how the ransom demand related to him. “The investigation has focused on Hoshina-
san
’s enemies,” Yanagisawa said. “The
sōsakan-sama
thinks those enemies include you. Because of our friendship, I’ve come to talk to you myself, instead of letting Sano-
san
interrogate you and blame you for the kidnapping.”

But Yanagisawa had motives other than shielding Lord Kii from Sano. He wanted to test his hunch that Lord Kii was innocent of the crime and affirm the man’s allegiance to him. He didn’t want Sano to rush in here and cause trouble that might upset the balance of power. Even if Yanagisawa eliminated one suspect—and one chance to rescue Lady Keisho-in and stay Hoshina’s execution—he would serve his other needs.

Lord Kii squinted in concentration, as he always did when exercising his limited intelligence. His gaze roved the battlefield. The army that sported red flags separated the opposing troops that wore blue flags, surrounded them, and knocked them off their horses in a clatter of wooden blades.

“But I didn’t kidnap the shogun’s mother,” said Lord Kii. “Why should anyone think I would hurt Lady Keisho-in to destroy Hoshina-
san
?”

“Because of his role in your son’s death,” Yanagisawa said.

Memory and pain overshadowed Lord Kii’s cheerful aspect. “The responsibility for the death of Mataemon belongs to himself alone,” he said. “Mataemon didn’t approve of my allying our clan to you. His disapproval led him to quarrel with Hoshina-
san
. Drawing his sword on Hoshina-
san
was a young man’s foolish act that cost him his life.”

This was the official story, Yanagisawa knew. He also knew the truth behind the story. Mataemon had pressured Lord Kii to desert Yanagisawa’s faction and join Lord Matsudaira’s instead. Yanagisawa and Hoshina had feared he might succeed, and had taken precautions.

Hoshina had deliberately picked a quarrel with Mataemon, insulted the sensitive young man, and goaded him into drawing his sword in the palace. Mataemon had condemned himself to death, ridding Yanagisawa of a threat.

“I bear no enmity toward Hoshina-
san
,” Lord Kii said now, “because I accept that my son was a casualty in the war of politics.”

His earnest manner said he actually believed this line that Yanagisawa had fed him after delivering the news of Mataemon’s fatal mistake. Lord Kii wasn’t a complete fool, but he preferred to take the easy road. His mind spurned realizing that his master had destroyed his son, because admitting the truth would require him to exact revenge. And Yanagisawa thought Lord Kii was neither underhanded nor reckless enough to exact revenge by kidnapping the shogun’s mother and demanding Hoshina’s execution.

“Your attitude reflects your wisdom,” Yanagisawa said. He watched Lord Kii smile with humble pleasure at the compliment. “But people who don’t know you as well as I do might think you bear a grudge and wonder if you secretly want to punish Hoshina-
san
. The
sōsakan-sama
will wonder how and when you learned about Lady Keisho-in’s trip.”

Puzzlement creased Lord Kii’s forehead. “Why, I learned about it from you, at your banquet, the night before Lady Keisho-in left Edo. Don’t you remember telling me?”

“Of course I remember.” Yanagisawa rested secure in his belief that his passing remark hadn’t delivered Lady Keisho-in into the hands of the kidnapper. “And I’ll tell the
sōsakan-sama
that even though you knew in advance about the trip, the information was safe with you because you would never hurt our lord’s mother. But there’s one small matter that might point his suspicion toward you.”

“What is it?” Lord Kii said, looking more confused than ever..

“The
metsuke
has reported that a squadron of your retainers left Edo a few hours ahead of Lady Keisho-in,” said Yanagisawa. “They traveled in the same direction along the Tōkaidō.” Had he not known Lord Kii’s lack of nerve as well as imagination, Yanagisawa would have deemed this evidence that the man had arranged the ambush. “Where did they go?”

“I sent them on business to Miyako.”

“What business?”

“Why does it matter?” Now a beleaguered expression came over Lord Kii’s face. Sweat trickled down his cheeks. On the battlefield, the Red Flag and Blue Flag armies charged and clashed again. Their ranks disarranged, while their commanders scolded them and the conch trumpets blared. “Why are you asking me these questions?”