“That’s a complicated building,” Hirata said quietly.
“It gives the Ghost too many places to hide,” Fukida said. “How are we going to find him in there?”
“We could holler at him to come out, and when he does, we’ll arrest him, no problem,” Marume joked.
“There must be just as many ways he can sneak out of it,” Hirata said, studying the numerous windows and balconies.
“That works in our favor as well as his. We’ll use those ways to sneak in on him.” Sano divided his forces into teams of three. “First we surround the property so that even if Kobori escapes from the house, he can’t leave the grounds. Then we go in.” He assigned teams to various positions and duties. “Remember that Kobori is more dangerous than any fighter you’ve ever met. Stick together in your teams. Don’t tackle him alone.”
While one team kept watch on the front of the house, the others started up the hill and merged into the darkness. Sano said, “Marume-san and Fukida-san, you’re on my team. Hirata-san, you stay here.”
“No-I’m going with you,” Hirata said, clearly dismayed by the prospect of being left behind.
Sano recognized how hard Hirata had struggled to keep up with the investigation and how much he hated to miss the final action. But they both knew he was unfit to clamber over rough terrain in the dark, let alone confront a lethal assassin. If he went, he would slow down their team or endanger the other men. Sano grasped at the only excuse that might save Hirata’s pride.
“I’m counting on you to supervise this team and guard my wife,” Sano said.
Humiliation shone in Hirata’s eyes even as he nodded. It was clear that he knew the team could supervise itself and Reiko’s guards could protect her better than he could. “Do you remember the old priest’s techniques that I showed you for fighting Kobori?” he asked Sano, Marume, and Fukida.
They nodded. Hirata had given a quick lesson to them and all the troops before they’d left Edo. Sano had doubts about how much good it would do, but at least Hirata could feel that he’d contributed something to the mission.
“Well, then, good luck,” Hirata said.
Marume clapped a hand on Hirata’s shoulder. “When this is done, we’ll all go out for a drink.”
He and Fukida moved to the edge of the forest. Sano turned to Reiko. The moonlight silvered her features. His gaze traced them, committing them to memory even though her image was already etched in his spirit. She gave him a tremulous smile.
“Be careful,” she said.
Her beauty, and his fear that they would soon be parted forever, shot pain through Sano. “I love you,” he whispered.
“No,” she said, her voice fractured and barely audible.
He knew she didn’t mean she rejected his love. She knew he’d spoken it in case he didn’t survive this mission or didn’t have time enough afterward to tell her. The words were akin to saying good-bye, which she didn’t want to hear. Sano touched her cheek. They exchanged one heartfelt look to sustain them until he came back-or until they were reunited in death. Then Sano turned and set off into the night with Marume and Fukida to have his revenge on the man he believed had murdered him.
Reiko sat beside Hirata in the forest; her guards and the team of soldiers crouched nearby. No one spoke. Everyone was too intent on peering through the trees at the mansion and listening for noises that would tell them what was happening. Reiko projected her mind across the distance toward Sano. They had a unique spiritual connection that enabled them to sense each other’s presence, thoughts, and feelings even when separated. Surely she would know if he was in danger, hurt-or dead. But tonight she felt nothing except her own mounting fear for him. A chasm of loneliness opened in her heart. She closed her eyes, the better to listen.
The night wove a fabric of sounds that muffled those of Sano and his army. Wolves howled; the wind moaned through the trees; Reiko heard the screech of predatory birds, and the stream gurgling in the valley. Temple bells signaled midnight. When she opened her eyes, she saw the mansion, still as ever. The light behind the window flickered as if the lantern inside was burning low on oil. The moon ascended to its zenith; the stars revolved on the wheel of heaven while Reiko wondered what Sano was doing. The air turned wintry, but she didn’t notice she was trembling with cold until Hirata put his cloak over her shoulders. Time passed, slow as water eroding stone. They waited in tense anticipation.
Suddenly a thin, faraway voice yelled, “Who’s out there?”
Reiko stiffened. She felt her heartbeat skitter. Hirata, her guards, and the soldiers stirred alert.
“Answer me!” ordered the voice.
It was shrill with panic, and it came from the house. “That’s Yugao,” Reiko said apprehensively. “What’s going on?”
“She must have heard our troops coming,” Hirata said in dismay. “She and the Ghost know they’re under siege.”
“Go away!” Yugao shouted, her voice sounding closer and louder. “Leave us alone!”
Now Reiko heard the familiar sound of the door opening. Yugao burst out onto the veranda. Her back was hunched, her hands curled like talons. She resembled a wild, cornered beast. She prowled behind the railing and cried, “Listen to me, whoever you are!”
Even from a distance, in the dim light, Reiko could see that terror and hatred twisted Yugao’s features. Her gaze frantically explored the darkness, seeking her foes. “We won’t let you take us. Get out of here or you’ll be sorry!”
“Our orders from Chamberlain Sano are to bring in the fugitives alive or dead,” Hirata said. “Here’s our chance at one of them.” The soldiers had already drawn their bows; they pointed their arrows at Yugao. “Fire as soon as you’ve got a good shot.”
Even though Reiko knew Yugao was a murderess who deserved to die, she winced at the prospect of the spilling of a young woman’s blood. And if Yugao died, she would take her secrets to the grave.
Yugao paused. Three bows twanged. Three arrows hissed across the darkness. They thumped against the veranda railing and the wooden wall of the mansion. Yugao shrieked. She flung up her arms to protect her head, ducking and turning from side to side, trying to see who was firing at her. The archers shot more arrows. She howled, fell flat, and Reiko thought she’d been hit. But then Yugao was scuttling fast on hands and knees toward the door. She crawled into the mansion, and the door shut behind her, pelted by another volley of arrows.
The archers lowered their bows and muttered curses. Hirata shook his head. Reiko was torn between disappointment that Yugao had escaped and relief that another life had not ended in violence.
Yugao shouted through the door, “You can’t kill me! If you even try-” She stepped outside, holding Tama in front of her, pressed against her body like a shield. “-I’ll kill her!”
Tama stood rigid, her round doll’s face a mask of terror. Her hands clutched the arm that Yugao held locked across her chest. Horror seized Reiko as Yugao waved a knife whose blade gleamed in the lantern light. The soldiers took aim again.
“No!” Reiko whispered. Panic launched her to her feet.
The soldiers looked to Hirata for orders. One said, “If we shoot at Yugao, we’ll hit the other girl instead.”
A heartbeat passed, then Hirata said, “Hold your fire. I’ll talk to her.”
As Reiko exhaled in relief, Hirata stepped out from the woods. He limped along the trail toward the mansion. “Yugao!” he called.
She whirled in the direction of his voice, turning Tama with her. Her hostile gaze searched the darkness and she shouted, “Who are you?”