Authors: Laura Joh Rowland
Sano beheld the prince in amazement. Momozono looked as pitiful as ever, but he harbored the force of kiai, and Sano recognized the potentially lethal complications introduced by Momozono's arrival. He scented the cold breath of danger; his mind raced.
"I'm glad to see you safe, Honorable Prince," he improvised, anxious not to reveal that he knew Momozono was the killer. Getting the boys back to the city and Momozono into the custody of the bakufu seemed the best strategy. "Now that you're here, I can take you and His Majesty home."
"No! I can't bear for everyone to see me in disgrace!" The emperor's sobs dwindled to panicky gasps. "I never want to go home again!"
Prince Momozono lurched close to his cousin. He said, "We're n-not g-going with you."
The pair looked like frightened children defying a bully. Sano's heart sank. "Neither of you has anything to fear," he said, thinking fast. "Prince Momozono wasn't party to the revolt, and Your Majesty will be spared the consequences of treason."
Tomohito gazed uncertainly at Sano, betraying his need to give himself over to authority, but Momozono cried, "D-don't believe him, Your Majesty. You must learn to beware of p-people who want to use you for th-their own purposes. Look at what happened because you trusted the l-left minister!"
Confusion disconcerted Sano. Did Momozono mean the right minister? Was Ichijo behind the conspiracy after all?
"The left minister was my friend," Tomohito protested. "I wanted to rule Japan, and he helped me. He bought weapons with the money from selling imperial treasure. He raised an army to overthrow the Tokugawa for me. Before he died, he planned the siege of Miyako."
Sano's jaw dropped. "Do you mean that Left Minister Konoe was responsible for the revolt?"
Despite his astonishment, he saw that the revelation made perfect sense. The motives and means he'd attributed to Ichijo also fit the murder victim. Konoe, too, had been an ambitious man who'd wielded influence over the emperor. His position, like Ichijo's, had allowed him the freedom to go about recruiting troops. And Konoe, as chief court noble, would have ruled from behind the throne if he'd lived and the coup had succeeded.
But his status as a metsuke agent had blinded Sano to these facts, and important clues. The notes from Konoe's secret house must have been his plans for organizing the coup, not observations scribbled while spying on Lord Ibe's estate. A man capable of murdering Kozeri's husband, then pursuing her for fifteen years after she repudiated him, was mad enough to attack the Tokugawa. Now Sano recalled Ichijo saying, "Konoe... I should have guessed," and understood that Ichijo had realized that Konoe was responsible for the plot. Emperor Tomohito had said he didn't need Konoe anymore, meaning that because Konoe had already launched the revolt, he was no longer necessary for its success. Sano silently cursed his failure to see what now seemed obvious.
Prince Momozono bent over the emperor; while one arm flapped like a broken wing, the other clumsily embraced Tomohito's shoulders. "It's t-time to face the facts, Your Majesty. Day after d-day I listened to the left m-minister praising your ancestors who commanded power over Japan. I w-watched his h-hired martial arts experts teach you s-swordsmanship and convince you that you were a g-great warrior. He d-didn't think I understood what he was d-doing. I heard him fill your h-head with dreams of glory until you agreed that you must lead an uprising against the b-bakufu."
"It was my idea." Tomohito's face puckered with doubt. "He was just helping me fulfill my destiny."
Prince Momozono shook his head. "Y-you were too c-caught up in the left minister's scheme to n-notice what he m-muttered to himself every time he d-described the wonderful future when the Imperial C-court was restored to supremacy. But I heard. He s-said, `Then she will love me. Sh-she will be forced to obey m-me as her husband and l-lord.' Your Majesty, h-he planned a revolt to get power over the w-wife who left him!"
"He did it for me!" Tomohito insisted, drumming his heels on the veranda while tears spilled down his cheeks.
Then the siege of Miyako hadn't been intended as just a drive for political power, but to satisfy an obsessive love. The "accomplishment" that Konoe had mentioned to Kozeri wasn't his elevation to the post of imperial prime minister, Sano realized; the "special occasion" Konoe had wanted to celebrate with her wasn't a reward for turning in a traitor. Both euphemisms had referred to his takeover of Japan, which would place her and everyone else in his power. In his last letter to Kozeri, he'd alluded to the site of the revolt, which he knew because he himself had chosen it.
Momozono knelt beside the emperor. "I c-couldn't let the 1-left minister get you in trouble. So I k-killed him."
Sano was horrified. He needed a confession, but not here, with nothing to deter Momozono from killing to protect the emperor and eliminate a bakufu official to whom he'd just admitted he was guilty of murder.
"You killed the left minister?" The exclamation burst from Tomohito. Then dismayed recollection came into his eyes. "The night Konoe was murdered, you were already in the Pond Garden when I got there. After we found his body, you asked where I'd been before we met. I said, in the study hall, alone. We agreed to say we'd been there together. When that other man died, I was alone in the worship hall, and you promised to say you'd been there, too. I thought you did it for my sake. But it was you who needed an alibi!"
He jumped up and began beating the prince with his fists, shouting, "You tried to ruin my future. How dare you?"
"I did it to s-save you! An anonymous 1-letter telling what the left m-minister was doing wouldn't have b-been enough to convince the bakufu-he was too important and r-respectable. I had no choice but to k-kill him. I didn't know that the r-revolt would go ahead after h-he was gone!" Raising his unwieldy arms in self-defense, Momozono accidentally struck Tomohito's chin, further enraging him.
"I'll kill you!" Tomohito howled.
"Stop!" Sano dragged Tomohito away from the prince, fearful that Momozono would turn against his cousin for failing to appreciate what he'd done. Sano considered slaying the prince, whose crimes merited the death penalty, but he abhorred killing and hoped to arrest Momozono without violence.
On his knees, head tossing, Momozono cried, "If the revolt w-were to succeed and L-left Minister Konoe seize power, h-he would have exiled me, the way he tried to years ago. Were it to f-fail, Your Majesty would have b-been executed. And what w-would have happened to m-me then?"
"Who cares about you?" Tomohito demanded, trying to maneuver around Sano so he could get at the prince.
Selfishness was at the heart of every murderer's motive, Sano knew. Momozono had acted on the emperor's behalf, but he'd also been defending his own precarious position. He, of all the suspects, had the most to gain by Konoe's death and the most to lose by either his victory or defeat in a war with the Tokugawa. Only one question remained.
"Why did you kill again?" Sano asked the prince.
"I g-got the message that you were coming to the p-palace. I w-went to kill you so Lady Asagao would be f-freed and you wouldn't discover the c-conspiracy. On my way, I c-came upon four s-samurai, walking through the palace g-grounds. I heard them t-talking. A man with a drawling voice was p-praising the leader for framing L-lady Asagao and forcing her to confess."
Aisu and Yanagisawa and their guards, Sano thought.
"I r-realized that they were r-responsible for her arrest. They w-went on talking, and it was clear th-that they wanted to w-watch me kill you, then arrest me. It was a trap!" Momozono went into a fit of facial contortions. "I h-had to do what I'd set out to do, but I couldn't let them c-catch me. So I went after them. Two of the m-men ran away. I k-killed the one with the drawling v-voice and trapped the 1-leader. But then I heard you c-coming. I couldn't recover my strength quickly enough to s-scream again, so I ran away."
A chance encounter had resulted in Aisu's death, Sano realized, and spared his own life. If he was clever enough, fortune might favor him again.
"I commend your loyalty to His Majesty, and I understand what a terrible ordeal you've been through," Sano said gently, while he sought a way to persuade Momozono to surrender himself and the emperor. What kind of favorable terms could he offer a confessed murderer? "Let's go back to the palace where you can rest, and-"
With an effort that ripped a yell from him, the prince stood. Distress clouded the twitching muscles of his face as he said to Sano, "You treated me with m-more respect than anyone else ever has. For that I offer you my humble th-thanks. But I c-can't let you take His M-Majesty, so I must kill you, too."
"Wait," Sano said, though fearfully aware that his luck had failed him. He appealed to the emperor, who stood staring at Momozono in panting fury. "Your cousin is dangerous. We have to go. Please come with me."
"No!" Tomohito lunged at Momozono again. When Sano caught him and tried to lead him away, he tore free, cursing.
Hysterical frenzy besieged Momozono. His shrieks echoed across the hills. His face contorted, while his arms and legs flailed in a bizarre dance. Then he threw back his head and clenched his jaws. The frenzy waned, leaving Momozono eerily silent and still. His manic energy, now harnessed, emanated from him in a pale aura that absorbed the sounds of battle and distant gongs.
An ominous, familiar tension tingled the air around Sano. Its soundless vibration pulsed through him. Sudden lassitude weakened him. He reached for the long sword at his waist, but his arm moved sluggishly, as if he were dragging it through water. His spirit recoiled from the ghostly, sinister touch of Momozono's will. Realization startled him. Contrary to popular wisdom, the power of kiai wasn't always the product of rigorous martial arts training. In Momozono's case, it was a symptom of his mysterious affliction. An accident of fate had made him an outcast and granted him the ultimate deadly weapon. He must have practiced his skill on those birds found dead in the palace gardens.
"What are you doing, Momo-chan?" the emperor asked. A queasy expression came over his face. "It's scaring me. What's that noise? Where's that light coming from? I order you to stop!"
"My apologies, Your Majesty." Prince Momozono had shed his stammer along with his tics; his voice was clear, steady, and full of regret. "There's no other way. He knows 1 killed two men. He knows you were a willing participant in the rebellion. He has to die."
Sano's fingers, grown thick and clumsy, fumbled his sword from its scabbard. The weapon seemed a hundred times heavier than usual, and Sano's hand too weak to bear the weight. The sword fell. The debilitating force radiating from Momozono dropped Sano to his knees; his fear turned to terror; his wish to serve justice gave way to the need to save his life.
"There's no reason to kill me," he choked out. "Left Minister Konoe was a traitor. By killing him, you demonstrated loyalty to the Tokugawa regime. The shogun will spare you the death sentence, maybe even pardon you altogether."
Momozono shook his head sadly. "Anyone with a power like mine would never be allowed to live. But I don't really care if I die. It's His Majesty I must protect. I can't let you capture him and execute him as a traitor."
"The emperor isn't responsible for the plot," Sano hastened to say. Keeping Momozono talking would prevent him from gathering the breath he would need for a spirit cry. "The bakufu will make allowances for his age and Left Minister Konoe's influence over him. They won't want a scandal, or a breach with the Imperial Court. If His Majesty repents, he won't be punished."
"Yes, I repent," cried Emperor Tomohito. "I'll never be bad again. Just stop, Momo-chan!" Backing away from his cousin, he stumbled, fell, then crawled between pillars toward the door of the temple hall. "Help! Somebody, please!"
As hot waves of panic coursed through him, and his heart pounded with accelerating thuds, Sano recalled a classic ritual practiced by ancient samurai in wartime: kugi goshin-ho, annihilating the forces of evil by evoking the nine magic ideographs. He closed his hands, then released the index fingers, pressing the tips together near his breast.
"Kin! Kin! Kin!" he chanted.
To his relief, he felt a slight relaxing of the tension. The heat in his blood began to subside; his heartbeat slowed.
"I'm not stupid enough to think His Majesty will be forgiven," Momozono said bitterly. "If I claim that Left Minister Konoe was to blame for the revolt, who will believe me? That's why I killed him. Can you picture me telling the bakufu that he was planning a coup?" The aura around Momozono brightened; the energy pulsed with quickening intensity. "I'd have been mocked and dismissed."
"But I believe you. I'll convince my superiors." Assailed by Momozono's invisible force, Sano fell back on his heels. With a huge effort, he brought his fingertips together, gasping, "Sha! Sha! Sha!" Even though the physical relief was minimal, renewed courage flared in him.
"I can see that you're sincere," Momozono said, "but if you think your support of my word will save His Majesty, you're more of an idiot than I am."
In desperation, Sano argued, "Have you thought about what will happen if you kill me? Without me to persuade the bakufu that His Majesty is innocent, he'll be condemned for treason. My detectives will come when they hear your scream. They'll find my corpse, and they'll catch you. You can't buy your freedom, or the emperor's, with my death."
Momozono's expression disdained this scenario. "His Majesty will tell the bakufu that the outlaws abducted us from the palace and brought us here. You attacked His Majesty because you thought he was a traitor. I defended him the only way 1 could. It won't matter that everyone knows I'm a murderer."
With wordless eloquence, Momozono gestured toward the dark, open space beyond the railing. Below the tall beams that supported the veranda, the cliff dropped off precipitously. No one could survive such a fall. "I'll be dead before the police can arrest me."
As his heart pumped currents of panic through him, Sano chanted, "Jin! Jin!" When he tried to form the ideograph, his fingers wouldn't intertwine and fold. "Please," he whispered, "have mercy!" His spine gave way, and he crumpled. Momozono's will constricted his lungs; his heart seemed ready to explode. His ears reverberated; he could barely hear Tomohito shouting, "No, Momo-chan, no!"