Before Sano could think of a reply, Hoshina said, “Lady Reiko did me a favor. Please convey my thanks to her-and my best wishes to your son.”
21
Sano sat motionless until he heard Hoshina speak to the men he’d brought with him and Kozawa usher them all out of the mansion. Then he leaned his elbows on his desk and dropped his head into his hands. It seemed that things couldn’t get worse.
A door concealed by a painted mural slid open with a faint, surreptitious sound. Sano looked up to see Reiko standing in the passage that led to their private quarters. Her expression was solemn, her footsteps cautious as she approached Sano.
“I heard what Police Commissioner Hoshina said.” As she stood before Sano, she clasped her hands in penitence. “I’m sorry I’ve caused you so much trouble.”
Sano couldn’t help regretting that he’d allowed her to investigate the crime in the hinin settlement, but he couldn’t blame her for unwittingly playing into Hoshina’s scheme. She looked so devastated that he didn’t have the heart to be angry with her. Furthermore, he’d given his full consent to her investigation. “Never mind.” He rose and took her hands in his. “It’s not your fault.”
“But you warned me that what I do could reflect badly on you,” Reiko said, still upset. “I didn’t believe you, and I should have. I wish I’d never heard of Yugao.”
So did Sano, but he said, “Your behavior was only one factor in my problems. Without you, Hoshina would have found some other weapon to use against me.”
“He mentioned Masahiro. It sounded like a threat. Would he really hurt our son?” Fright marked Reiko’s face.
“Not while I’m around,” Sano assured her.
He didn’t say what could happen if he were ousted. The family of a defeated samurai was considered a danger to his vanquisher. Reiko would probably survive because Hoshina wouldn’t consider a woman important enough to attack; but a son could grow up to avenge wrongs done to his father. Hoshina would never let Masahiro live that long. Yet death wasn’t the only fate that Sano feared for Masahiro. Boys without a protector were used and mistreated, sexually and otherwise, by men in power. Yanagisawa’s son Yoritomo had been lucky that he’d become the exclusive property of the shogun after he’d lost his father. Sano couldn’t bear to think, let alone tell Reiko, of what suffering Hoshina would cause Masahiro. He could only do his best to come out on top and hope that she wouldn’t give Hoshina any more ammunition.
“How did your investigation go today?” he asked. “Is it almost finished?”
Reiko heard in Sano’s voice the hope that her investigation would end before it could do any more harm. She knew that he feared for the safety of her, Masahiro, their families, their friends, and the retainers who depended on him, not just his own. All of them would suffer if Sano were exiled, and so would the citizens of Japan if the selfish, corrupt, reckless Hoshina became the shogun’s second-in-command. Reiko was still horrified by the consequences of her quest to find the truth and serve justice, and anxious to reassure Sano.
“I’ve learned enough to satisfy me that Yugao is guilty,” Reiko said. “My father will convict and sentence her tomorrow. I’m not planning any more inquiries around town.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” Sano said.
He sounded so relieved that Reiko couldn’t tell him that she thought discovering Yugao’s motive was important enough to justify continuing her inquiries. He wouldn’t trust her intuition, not at a time like this. And she wasn’t certain that the danger of letting Yugao’s secrets remain unknown exceeded the danger from Hoshina. She had to keep up an unimpeachable standard of behavior from now on. If she wanted to know the truth about Yugao, she must wait until Sano’s troubles had blown over.
“Well,” Sano said, dropping her hands, “I should get back to work.”
An involuntary yawn opened his mouth so wide his jaw cracked. Reiko observed with concern that his eyes were blurred with fatigue. “Come rest awhile first.”
“There’s no time. In addition to starting my investigation all over, I have to figure out how to derail Hoshina’s plot to unseat me.”
“But you didn’t sleep at all last night. You must keep up your strength. At least take a nap,” Reiko urged. “You’ll be able to think more clearly afterward.”
She watched Sano vacillate; then he said, “Maybe you’re right,” and let her lead him to the bedchamber.
Sano’s eyes snapped open as he awakened from sound sleep to instant alertness. He was lying on his side in bed. The room was dark except for the faint glow of moonlight through the window. In the silence of the house he heard crickets chirping and frogs singing from the garden. He could barely see Reiko sleeping under the quilt beside him. Her slow, rhythmic breaths hissed quietly. Sano realized that his nap had lasted much longer than he’d intended. The entire household had gone to bed; it must be near midnight. But in the midst of dismay that he’d wasted hours he should have spent on work, a strange, prickling sensation chilled him. His samurai instincts signaled a warning.
There was someone in the room with him and Reiko.
He lay perfectly still, feigning sleep, dreading to move. He smelled a faint, unfamiliar human scent and heard breaths that didn’t come from him or Reiko. His skin felt the barely perceptible air currents in the still room. They eddied around a solid shape that loomed behind his back. Living warmth radiated from it. His mind formed a shadowy image of a man bent over him. He knew, without reason or doubt, that the intruder’s intent was evil.
These thoughts and sensations occurred during a mere instant after Sano awakened. In one swift movement, he rolled onto his back, grabbed the sword that he kept by his bedside, and slashed. The intruder leapt away just in time to avoid his blade. He heard a crash as the intruder fell to the floor, then frantic scuffling sounds as the man rushed across the chamber. Reiko bolted upright beside Sano.
“What’s that noise?” she exclaimed.
Sano was already flying out of bed, sword raised in his hand, his night robes tangling around his legs. “There’s an intruder in the house!” he shouted. “Call the guards!”
He blocked the door. The intruder charged at the sliding partition that formed one side of the room. He hurtled straight through it. Paper tore; lattice splintered. He tumbled into the corridor outside. Sano heard Reiko calling for help. He leapt through the jagged hole the intruder had made. The exterior doors on the opposite side of the corridor had been left open to admit fresh air. Sano stumbled onto the veranda that overlooked the garden. The darkness was so thick beneath its many trees that Sano could see nothing. But swift footsteps crunched on gravel paths and bushes rustled.
Two guards, carrying lanterns, appeared beside Sano. He pointed in the direction of the sound of the fleeing intruder. “Over there!”
The guards plunged down the steps with Sano close behind them. They panned their lanterns across the garden. Beyond the boulders and flowerbeds, Sano spied movement in the darkness near a distant wing of the mansion. “There he goes!”
He and his men raced forward, but lost sight and sound of the intruder. Then Sano heard scuffling noises that climbed above ground level. He looked up as he ran, and he saw a dark lump form on the slanted eave of the building.
“He’s on the roof!” Sano cried.
The lump transformed into a man-sized shape and sped out of view as Sano reached the building. The guards dropped their lanterns, climbed the veranda rail, shimmied up the pillars, and scrambled onto the roof. Sano tucked his sword under his sash and followed them. The roof spread vast before him like a sea of tiles that connected the house’s many wings, its rounded ripples frozen and agleam in the moonlight. He saw the intruder skimming, fast and sure-footed, over the peaks and gables. As his men gave chase, they skidded, stumbled, and fell. Sano lumbered after them. The rough edges of the tiles gouged his bare feet. The intruder crested a rooftop far in the distance.