“Lady Wisteria, forgive me. I need your help again. I have to find-”
“Stay away from me!” she shrilled. “You’ve done enough harm already!”
Shaking free of her customer, she turned and fled. Her small size let her squeeze through narrow openings in the crowd as Sano could not. He had no choice but to let her go.
He turned away hastily when he saw another doshin pushing through the crowd toward him. He dismounted and continued down the street, leading the horse. From ground level, he could no longer look down over the crowds, but his new vantage point hid him from his pursuers and let him peer into doorways and open windows. In the teahouses and restaurants he saw many tall, heavy women that had to be men in disguise, but no one matching the shogun’s description.
He rounded a corner into a street barely wide enough for four men to walk side by side. The quarter’s outer wall blocked its far end. Brilliant lanterns, strung across the street between the roofs of the houses, danced overhead. The dense crowd brought Sano to an abrupt halt. He stood on his toes and craned his neck. All around him, men celebrated with increasing abandon as the festivities neared their peak. Caged yūjo cried out encouragements and invitations. The ground under Sano’s feet was slippery with sour-smelling mud. Then he saw a sleek dark head that reached above the others, about thirty paces away. A momentary gap in the crowd gave him a glimpse of a large, homely white face and long, flowing hair. The man-woman smiled and waved to someone. His billowy gold sleeve fell back to reveal layered kimonos underneath: red, green, blue, white.
At the same time as Sano recognized Tokugawa Tsunayoshi, the crowd pressed against him. Three samurai, masked but in ordinary clothes, were moving his way, clearing a path ahead of the shogun. Six more bodyguards, three mounted and three on foot, covered their master’s back and sides. Sano pushed at the bodies that stood between him and the middle of the street. He had to intercept the shogun before he disappeared into the crowd.
“Stop pushing!” someone yelled, shoving Sano back against a railing.
“Out of the way, out of the way,” called the shogun’s bodyguards.
Sano knotted his horse’s reins around the railing. Then he wedged himself between two men. The first bodyguard neared him. An elbow knocked his mask askew, and as he righted it, he saw the bodyguard pause and turn his head in response to a call.
A doshin appeared beside the guard. They began a conversation that the other two front-runners joined, shouting in one another’s ears because of the crowd noise. Sano couldn’t hear what they were saying, but he could guess. The doshin was asking or telling them about a certain dangerous fugitive.
Sano continued to work his way forward. At whatever risk to himself, he must use this opportunity to warn the shogun. The Conspiracy of Twenty-One might make their move at any instant.
Just then, a distant boom sounded. A hush fell over the crowd; men paused in the act of speaking, drinking, dancing, walking. Heads lifted in listening anticipation, among them those of the shogun and his party. Another boom followed, then another. Suddenly the night came alive with the clamor of a million gongs and bells, some high-pitched and sweet, others deep and sonorous. A cheer swept the quarter. It was midnight, and the priests in temples all over Edo had begun to exorcise the evil of the Old Year and ring in the good of the New. The peals and booms echoed off the distant hills and rocked the ground. The very air shuddered.
Sano listened with the rest of the crowd, momentarily spellbound as they were by the awe-inspiring music. Then, on the high right edge of his field of vision, he saw a movement. He turned.
A samurai dressed in dark robes, leggings, and mask crept along a roof. As Sano watched, the man knelt and took an arrow from the quiver that hung from his shoulder. He fitted the arrow to his bow and drew back on the string, aiming straight at the shogun.
“Look out, Your Excellency!” Sano shouted, pointing. “There. On the roof!”
His voice was lost in the noise of the bells and gongs. Although he couldn’t even hear himself, he kept shouting.
“Your Excellency!”
No one standing farther than three steps away could see him, either. Sano plunged toward his horse, untied the reins, and mounted. He drove the animal against the massed bodies. Standing in the stirrups, he waved and shouted. No one moved. They couldn’t. Still the bells and gongs tolled. The shogun kept his rapt gaze on the sky. Now Sano saw with increasing panic that two more archers had taken up positions on other roofs.
“You! Up there! Stop!” he yelled.
His cry coincided with an instant’s lull between peals. Two of the archers kept eyes and bows trained on their target, but the nearest turned toward him. No sooner had Sano guessed his intent than the archer swung his bow around and set free the arrow. It flew at Sano in a blur of speed. He had barely time for a quick intake of breath, and none to dodge. Then his horse screamed, rearing under him. He saw the arrow sticking out of its neck.
Blood gushed around the shaft in rhythmic spurts. Sano cried out, trying to steady the squealing, thrashing beast. But the horse lurched and started to fall sideways. As Sano fell with it, he saw the archers on the roof release their arrows. The shogun disappeared as if jerked to the ground from below.
Sudden mass hysteria threw the street into a writhing turmoil. People shoved and kicked, trying to reach safety. Their screams rose over the noise of the bells. Sano landed on bodies already knocked to the ground by his horse’s wild convulsions. Feet trampled his chest. He managed to fight his way out from under someone who fell across him, only to receive a jarring kick to his chin. He regained his footing just in time to see two of the shogun’s bodyguards pull themselves onto a roof and take up pursuit of the fleeing archers. Others closed protectively around their fallen master, while the rest began fending off the crowds that surrounded them. Dread and a horrible sense of failure gripped Sano. Was the shogun dead?
“Clear the street!” the bodyguards shouted. “Go on, move! Everybody. Now!”
The doshin who’d approached them earlier reappeared, wielding his jitte as his two assistants swung their clubs. The crowd stampeded toward Naka-no-cho. Shouts and screams filled Sano’s ears: “What is it? What happened? Help!”
Sano realized that he could hear them because the bells had stopped ringing. He resisted the buffeting tide of humanity and pushed forward. He had to see-
In a space cleared by the departing crowd, a man lay dead, an arrow through his chest. Sano expelled a long, shaky breath of relief when he saw that it was one of the bodyguards. Tokugawa Tsunayoshi stood amid his remaining men, unhurt but obviously shaken. He pointed at the corpse, then toward the roofs. He scowled. He struck his men with his fists. His feminine costume contrasted sharply with his unladylike fury as he berated his men in angry whispers, probably demanding to know who the assassins were, and how they’d learned of his presence in Yoshiwara. Hands spread in helpless confusion, the guards ventured answers that he cut off with more blows.
Suddenly Lord Niu’s plan became glaringly apparent to Sano. Ignoring the doshin, who had fixed him with a suspicious stare, he hurried toward the shogun. He pushed past everyone who got in his way. The shooting had been just a ploy to scatter the crowd and divert the guards-a prelude to the real attack. He had to warn Tokugawa Tsunayoshi that there were eighteen more assassins yet to come.
“You, there,” the doshin said. He elbowed aside a pair of stumbling drunks and strode up to Sano. “Come over here.”
Oblivious to the danger, Sano looked beyond the shogun toward the far end of the street. Among the fleeing bystanders, he saw three samurai who didn’t appear in any hurry at all. Dressed in plain dark kimonos, with straw hats that shadowed their faces, they hung back and let others pass them. They were separated by some ten paces, with the man in the middle of the street slightly in the lead and the others flanking him. As they neared the shogun’s party, they let the distance between them close and quickened their pace as a unit. The lead man raised his head for a brief look at the rooftops. The lanterns lit his tense young face. Sano recognized Lord Maeda from the secret meeting.