Sano had just reached the large space beneath the side house when he heard hoofbeats coming from the direction of the gate.
He flattened himself against the ground, arms over his head. The floor above him creaked as someone inside walked across it. Footsteps crunched on the gravel path.
A man called, “Hail, brothers! What took you so long? His lordship is waiting.”
Sano missed the reply. The guards had gone to meet the new arrivals, who had stopped just out of earshot. He scooted to the front of the house. Now he heard voices raised in argument and could make out broken phrases:
“… meaning of this?”
“… insisted on coming… wouldn’t deliver the goods otherwise… know he won’t like it, but… ”
Peering out from between the house’s stilts, Sano saw eight men clustered on the path. The two guards faced four mounted samurai and two bearers with a palanquin. The gray afternoon had begun to dissolve into a darker gray twilight, and he couldn’t see the newcomers’ faces clearly, or distinguish any crests on their garments. But the guard had greeted them as comrades: they, too, were Lord Niu’s men. Sano wished they would come closer so he could hear better.
Suddenly a loud rapping came from within the palanquin. The bearers eased it to the ground. The door opened and a small, stooped man burst out.
“Take me to Lord Niu Masahito immediately!” he yelled, his voice carrying across the distance to Sano.
The guards grabbed at the man. He darted away and ran toward the house. The mounted samurai galloped forward, blocking the stairs to the door. Thwarted, the man skidded to a stop. The guards seized him. As they dragged him back to the palanquin, he stumbled and fell sideways, his face turning toward Sano.
Even from a distance of some thirty paces, Sano saw and recognized the stained mouth and chin. The man was Cherry Eater, shunga dealer and former employer of Noriyoshi.
Sano smiled again as he grasped the significance of Cherry Eater’s presence. Whatever business had brought the shunga dealer here must have once included Noriyoshi. Now, if he could just learn what that business was! He didn’t believe Cherry Eater would come all the way from Yoshiwara, uninvited, just to deliver artwork.
The guards flung Cherry Eater toward the palanquin. He fell in a heap on the ground beside it.
“Unload the goods and take this pest back to Yoshiwara,” one of the guards ordered the bearers.
“I won’t go until I’ve spoken to Lord Niu,” Cherry Eater shouted. When the bearers tried to pick him up, he kicked and thrashed.
Sano heard a door open, then Lord Niu’s voice demanding, “Just what is going on here?”
Cherry Eater scrambled to his feet. “My lord, what a pleasure to see you,” he simpered, bowing. “And to receive such great hospitality is an honor indeed.” Even under the circumstances, he didn’t-or couldn’t-curb his wit. He took a few steps toward the house and dropped to his knees before the guards could grab him again. “I apologize for the imposition, but there is something I must discuss with your lordship.”
“What is it?”
Although trees blocked Sano’s view of the veranda, he could imagine the annoyance on Lord Niu’s face.
“I am afraid that the price of my services has increased,” Cherry Eater said. “Perhaps you would like to discuss the matter inside, in private?”
Lord Niu ignored the suggestion. “We had an arrangement,” he said. “I see no reason to change it.”
Cherry Eater rubbed his hands together, an ingratiating smile opening within his red birthmark. “Noriyoshi’s death has made change regrettably necessary.”
Sano expected Lord Niu to protest. But the daimyo’s son seemed to lose interest in the conversation. “All right,” he said impatiently. “How much?”
Cherry Eater named a sum that sounded outrageous to Sano. Was the dealer taking over Noriyoshi’s position as blackmailer, or just charging more because his employee’s death made more work for him?
Lord Niu didn’t ask; he just said, “Come to the yashiki tomorrow. The money will be waiting for you.” To the bearers, he called, “Get him out of here, and bring me what he’s brought. And hurry. Time is short.” The door slammed.
Sano watched the bearers reach into the palanquin. A wave of shock hit him when they lifted out an inert body wrapped in a blanket. They carried it between them like a sack of meal, toward the house. The man’s head lolled. Sano drew a sharp breath as he glimpsed closed eyes and pale cheeks.
“He’s dead!” One of the mounted samurai voiced Sano’s thought.
Cherry Eater waved his hands. “No, no. Just drugged, as his lordship ordered. He won’t wake up for at least two hours.”
The shunga dealer got inside the palanquin. Then he stuck his head out and called, “I’m sure that’s more than long enough, heh, heh, heh!”
Sano left his lookout point and shot under the corridor that connected the side house to the shinden. He had to find out what Lord Niu intended to do with the man. Was he on the verge of learning what hold Noriyoshi had had on Lord Niu, and why the artist had died? A moment later, the corridor creaked above him as the bearers shuffled along it with their burden. He crawled after them, back to the side house he’d just left. They stopped near the rear corner, and he heard a thud as they set down the body. Should he climb up and try to see inside the room?
Not yet: a pair of trousered legs was approaching the house. Sano shrank back into the shadows. The man stooped at intervals to thrust torches into the ground and light them. Soon a line of dancing flames surrounded Sano’s hiding place and lit the path to the gate. Hurrying footsteps came from the direction of the servants’ quarters. Doors opened and closed. When Sano crept over to look toward the garden, he saw maids carrying laden trays up the stairs to the main house. What now? Lord Niu and his men must eat, of course, but the commotion suggested something more. A banquet? Sano’s stomach growled, and he realized he was hungry. Reaching inside his cloak, he pulled out a cake of mochi. He bit off small pieces and swallowed them. The dense, nutrient-rich staple that fed samurai during long journeys would silence his stomach before it attracted someone’s attention.
Gradually the commotion subsided. A hush fell over the villa as night encroached. From the house above him, Sano heard nothing. No one passed. He waited with growing impatience, longing for action as much to warm his cold, cramped muscles as to satisfy his curiosity. At last he crawled to the side of the house and put out his head and shoulders. Seeing no one lurking among the dark trees, he slid the rest of himself out and stood.
He staggered a little, his legs stiff from crouching and crawling. The air outside was colder, but fresher; he breathed it with relief. Cautiously he moved along the side of the house, stooping below window level. At the corner room, he slowly straightened to his full height-and halted in frustration. Behind the lattices, the windows were closed. He could distinguish only vague, dark silhouettes inside the lighted room. He put his ear to the wall. This time he heard a faint moan. He had to see!
Sano examined the wall for cracks or holes, but found none. He ran his hands over the smooth, weathered wood. His searching fingers found a rough, circular spot about the size of a human eye. A knot. Maybe…
He drew his dagger, stuck it into the knot’s center, and wiggled it. The knot held firm. Sano tried again. Did he feel a slight movement this time? He pulled gently. Ah, there…