As Reiko stepped forward, Hirata said in a furious whisper, “You can’t do this!”
“I must.” Reiko paused and turned to him. Keeping her voice low so that Yugao wouldn’t hear, she said, “Yugao is my responsibility to capture. If she kills again, the blood will be on my hands.”
“It’ll be your own blood!” Hirata gazed at her as if she’d gone mad. “She’ll kill you!”
“No, she won’t,” Reiko said. “I can handle her.” She’d faced down crazed murderers in the past and survived. Confidence braced Reiko against the dread that flowed, cold and daunting, through her veins. The dagger strapped to her arm gave her courage as she put her foot on the stairs.
“Stop,” Yugao said. “Lift your skirts. Put your arms up. I want to make sure you’re not carrying any weapons. Turn around.”
Reiko had underestimated Yugao’s intelligence. After a moment’s hesitation, she obeyed while clutching the hems of her sleeves, trying to conceal the dagger.
“Open your hands,” Yugao ordered. “Push down your sleeves.” After Reiko did, Yugao said, “Throw away that knife.”
As Reiko reluctantly unstrapped her weapon, Hirata said, “Chamberlain Sano ordered me to guard you. I won’t let you do it.” Reiko flung down the dagger. He seized her arm. “I’ll stop you by force if I must. It’s my duty.”
But his pleading gaze told Reiko that he was bluffing; he could never bring himself to use force on her. She gently disengaged herself. “If I refuse to be guarded, my husband won’t blame you. Don’t worry.”
“You can come up now,” Yugao said.
“What about your duty to your husband? Don’t you think you should honor his wishes?” Hirata demanded. Reiko knew that under any other circumstances he would never dare address her in such a brazen manner, let alone contradict her. But he was desperate now. “Stay out of this!”
“It’s my duty to help my husband, and I can help him better by going than staying.” Reiko believed it even though she knew Sano would disagree. “If I can keep Yugao occupied, that will be one less problem for him.”
“What about your son? If anything bad happens to you, who will raise him?”
An image of Masahiro rose in Reiko’s mind, so physical she could almost feel his soft, fragrant skin and hear his laugh. Her determination wavered, but only for a moment. Parenthood didn’t excuse a warrior from battle or Reiko from delivering Yugao to justice. Any expectation that she might fail would only handicap her.
“Nothing bad will happen to me,” Reiko said. “Be ready to send in your troops if I should call.”
“Why are you taking so long?” Yugao called. “If you don’t hurry, I might change my mind.”
Reiko turned her back on Hirata. As she started up the stairs, she felt him tug at the back of her sash. At first she thought he was trying to restrain her; then she felt the short, hard, narrow shape of a knife he’d tucked under her sash against her spine where Yugao couldn’t see it.
“May the gods protect you,” he whispered. “May Sano-san not kill me for letting you go off on this crazy mission!”
With every step she climbed, Reiko’s heart pounded faster in anticipation. Yugao and Tama silently watched her. Yugao’s steady, menacing gaze drew her upward. Tama’s eyes brimmed with tears and hope of salvation as Reiko reached the veranda. Reiko advanced until she was within touching distance of Yugao. Suddenly Yugao grinned. With no other warning, she slashed Tama’s throat.
“No!” Reiko screamed.
Tama uttered a terrible, gurgling wail. Blood spewed in a hot red fountain, drenching Reiko. She exclaimed in horrified disbelief. Yugao flung Tama at her. Tama crumpled onto the veranda floor, where she twitched, moaned, and died in front of Reiko. Her blood pooled around them. Reiko heard Hirata and her guards shouting and running up the stairs.
“Stop!” Yugao ordered them. She seized Reiko by the arm and held the blade against her neck. “One more move, and she’s dead, too!”
Reiko felt cold steel against her skin. She saw the men standing immobile and helpless on the stairs. Breathless, on the brink of fainting from shock, and dripping blood, she had barely enough self-possession to twist her body and hide the knife from Yugao.
Yugao marched Reiko past Tama’s corpse and through the door. She spoke in a tone of vindictive satisfaction: “Now you’ll pay for all the trouble you’ve caused me.”
31
I think we’ve passed the house,” Detective Marume said as he and Fukida and Sano toiled up the forested slope through the night. “I feel as if we’re halfway to the sky.”
Sano stumbled over a rock and caught himself. “We must have strayed off course.” He heard furtive rustling sounds from their army far off to his right. “Let’s go that way.”
They cut a zigzagging path across the hillside, groping past branches that snagged their armor. Soon the trees thinned. Pale moonlight filled a cleared space. Sano and his men halted at its edge, the boundary of the mansion’s grounds. Gardens descended in three terraces toward the house; ponds shimmered in the moonlight amid ornamental trees, flowerbeds, shrubs, and small, decorative buildings. Insects chirped and shrilled. Mist hovered in a thin, whitish vapor above the tall grass. Below the gardens spread the roof of the top level of the mansion. Sano heard stealthy movement in the gardens’ dense, verdant darkness and glimpsed flashes of light-the moon reflecting off the helmets and swords of his army.
Beckoning his men, Sano started down the top terrace. Shadows under the trees gave them cover. Cold dew on the grass drenched his sandals and socks. He spied the hunched, indistinct figures of his troops advancing to the next terrace. The night was peaceful except for the wind, the insects’ songs, the wolves’ howls, the whisper of grass and foliage, and crackles of twigs and dry leaves underfoot. But as Sano, Marume, and Fukida skirted a raised pavilion covered with a roof on posts, a hoarse scream shattered the quiet.
They instinctively crouched beside the pavilion. “What was that?” Marume whispered.
A second scream vibrated with a horrendous agony that rattled Sano’s nerves. Another cry, and another, followed in rapid succession. Chaos broke out down on the grounds. Men charged in all directions, no longer cautious, exposed to view. Countless more screams alarmed Sano. He and Fukida and Marume skidded down the slope to the lower terrace, where scuffles erupted under the foliage and the cries continued. Near a pond, a man lay inert and moaning. Sano crouched beside him and peered at the face below the helmet.
It was Captain Nakai. His eyes and mouth were open, round with terror. His complexion looked ghastly white.
“What happened?” Sano said.
“He sneaked up on me and grabbed me,” Nakai said between gasps. “I think he broke my back.”
Horror flooded Sano as he turned to Marume and Fukida, who crouched near him. “We’ve flushed out Kobori. He’s stalking and attacking our troops.” Sano heard new cries that were quickly silenced as though cut in the middle, and he knew that unlike Nakai, several of his other men hadn’t survived their encounters with the Ghost.
Nakai wagged his head feebly, but the rest of him lay still. “I can’t move my body!” he cried. “I’m paralyzed!”
Sano felt a heartbreaking pity for Nakai, the warrior who’d slain forty-eight men during his last battle, felled just moments into this one. Sano forgave Nakai his rudeness and over-ambition. Nakai had already served him better than most samurai ever served their masters. Nakai had led him to the Ghost and sacrificed himself to their cause.
Around them, soldiers yelled, “He’s over there!” “Get him!” They raced back and forth. Swords clanged. Bodies collided. The screams resounded with awful, increasing frequency. Sano realized that although he had the Ghost within striking distance at last, his mission was in serious trouble. He tore himself away from Nakai, stood, and shouted, “Stop running wild! Get back into your teams!”