Sano wasted no time savoring his triumph. He had to get himself and his prisoner out of the river before they both drowned, free Yanagisawa, and tie the boat to the bridge, so a rescue party could reach them. Crooking his arm around Chūgo’s neck, Sano swam around to the stern and found the rope he’d climbed earlier. He tied it around Chūgo’s chest, then pulled himself up the rope and aboard the boat. Heaving and straining until his muscles almost tore and tears came to his eyes, he got Chūgo onto the deck…
… only to find that, while he was laboring, the boat had drifted out of reach of the bridge and down the river. Waves washed over the deck and dashed against the cabin. Sano used the rope to tie Chūgo’s hands and feet and lash him upright to a lantern pole. He slumped against the railing in despair as he scanned the deserted riverscape. Even if he anchored the boat, it might capsize before help arrived. Sano staggered around to the starboard deck, where Yanagisawa lay moaning and sobbing in a pool of water.
“Chamberlain Yanagisawa. Can you sail a boat?”
Yanagisawa abruptly quieted. Gulping in surprise, he raised his head. Rain, tears, and blood drenched his face. His mouth trembled; his swollen eyes were wells of stark fear.
“You,”he croaked. “Where’s Chūgo?”
Sano’s animosity toward the chamberlain dissolved into pity, leavened by a slight pang of satisfaction at seeing his enemy thus. “I’ve tied him up. He can’t hurt you. Chamberlain-”
Yanagisawa’s features contorted into the familiar mask of hatred. “I order you to untie me, Sano Ichirō,” he rasped. Safe from Chūgo, he’d recovered his authority. He wriggled toward Sano, spitting hoarse curses.
The boat was speeding down the river, smacking the waves. Lightning forks stabbed the sky. Sano repeated, “Can you sail this boat?”
“Of course not, you imbecile. I’m not a common sailor. Now free me, so I can kill you!”
Sano grabbed Yanagisawa by the armpits and dragged him into the cabin. Then, leaving the chamberlain tied, Sano hurried out to the stern. He’d never sailed a boat before, but he would have to try. Through the rain, he squinted in dismay at the bewildering web of ropes that ran from the sail, over the cabin, and through wooden fittings on the gunwales. What to do?
Sano seized the tiller and tried to turn the boat shoreward. Nothing happened. The oars, designed for a team of rowers, were too heavy and too far apart for one man to operate alone. Sano grabbed the sail’s lines and yanked, turning the flapping sheet at a diagonal. The headwind filled it, pushing the boat right-too hard. The boat heeled sharply. Sano’s heart seized as he first let out the sail, then heaved the other way and tried to brace his feet on the slippery, tilting deck.
“I’ll kill you!” Yanagisawa screamed from the cabin.
Just when Sano thought the boat would capsize, it bobbed upright. But his next attempt to change direction met with similar, near-disastrous results. He realized that he would have to correct the boat’s course gradually. He turned the sail again, this time at a slighter angle to the wind. The boat heeled, but held stable. As it raced downstream, it continued to turn. The bow aimed west and shoreward. Soon Sano saw looming toward him Edo ’s docks and warehouses. Now he heard other shouts besides Yanagisawa’s. He saw ahead the tiny figures of people waving from warehouse doors. One man separated himself from a group and ran out on the dock, jumping up and down. Recognizing Hirata, Sano laughed aloud in sheer, joyous relief. Now he was approaching his assistant on a diagonal. He waited until he neared the dock, then let loose the sail.
The boat turned downstream and drew up alongside the dock. Its bow crashed into small craft moored there; its hull scraped against the pilings. But the boat stopped. The storm still raged around Sano, yet the world stood still.
Suddenly the boat was swarming with men: a doshin and assistants; two boatmen in wide hats and straw rain cloaks; Yanagisawa’s retainers. The boatmen secured the vessel to the dock and lowered the gangplank. The police untied Chūgo-conscious now, but dazed-and led him away. Yanagisawa’s retainers rushed into the cabin.
“Sōsakan-sama!” Hirata ran up to Sano, his face radiant with joy and excitement. “You’ve done it, you’ve caught the Bundori Killer! Come on, let’s go.”
Suddenly too weak to stand, Sano let his assistant help him down the gangplank.
“Sano Ichirō!”
Turning, Sano saw Chamberlain Yanagisawa emerge from the cabin, leaning on his retainers.
“You’ll pay for this, Sano Ichirō!” Yanagisawa shrilled, shaking his fist. Pale, disheveled, and furious, he looked like a mad demon from one of the shogun’s No plays. “I swear you’ll pay for this!”
Sano’s mind closed against the chamberlain’s threats as a temporarily forgotten longing swelled his heart.
“Aoi,” he whispered.
Chapter 36
One month after the Bundori Killer’s capture, the shogun’s banquet hall sparkled with noisy festivity. Lanterns brightened the huge room and the garden, visible through sliding doors opened to admit the warm, summer night breeze. Beautiful attendants, both male and female, served refreshments to gaudily robed men who reclined on silk cushions in laughing, joking clusters, or moved about the room to pour liquor for one another in the customary social ritual. On the veranda, musicians performed songs from the shogun’s favorite plays. Tokugawa Tsunayoshi, seated on the dais, struck a dramatic pose and intoned:
“I am a wanderer in life’s journey
I know not when it might end- ”
Occupying places of honor just below the dais, the Council of Elders, Chamberlain Yanagisawa, and the boy actor Shichisaburō laughed and applauded.
Sano sat alone in a corner, isolated by the terrible devastation that had followed Chūgo’s capture and destroyed much of the pleasure he’d derived from succeeding in his lord’s task. Seeing Tsunayoshi’s quizzical glance at him, he forced himself to approach the nearest group of guests, which included Hirata-his former assistant and now retainer-his former superior, Noguchi, and Magistrate Ueda. He poured them a round of sake and joined in their conversation. He must show gratitude and pretend enjoyment, even though his spirit was dying inside him.
“Silence!” Tokugawa Tsunayoshi clapped his hands.
The music ceased; conversation halted. The guests expectantly awaited their host’s words.
“As you know, this, ahh, banquet is being held in honor of Sōsakan Sano,” the shogun said, face flushed and speech slurred from the sake he’d consumed. “Tonight we officially celebrate two momentous events in the life of this most dedicated retainer, the first of which is, ahh, his capture of the Bundori Killer, who, I am glad to say, no longer terrorizes the city.”
Everyone turned to Sano. Hirata beamed in vicarious triumph. Noguchi smiled and bobbed his head. Magistrate Ueda merely nodded approval, but Sano saw genuine admiration in his eyes. The elders bowed gravely; the other guests applauded. Only Chamberlain Yanagisawa made no gesture of respect or congratulation. Yanagisawa, who Sano guessed-but couldn’t prove- was responsible for his beating. Yanagisawa, the “evil spirit” he might eventually have to destroy. Yanagisawa, powerless against him for only as long as he managed to retain the changeable Tokugawa Tsunayoshi’s favor. From his place at the shogun’s feet, he glared at Sano with undisguised hatred.
“Sōsakan Sano’s deed required all the qualities most admirable in a samurai: courage, loyalty, intelligence, and, ahh, perseverance.” The shogun’s eyes twinkled. “Though I believe you had a little help from Chamberlain Yanagisawa?”