With Lord Matsudaira dead, the game was once again between Sano and Yanagisawa. They'd done unforgivable things to each other, and Sano had expected Yanagisawa to renew his attacks with a vengeance. Sano had braced himself for the fight of his life.
It hadn't come.
Now Yanagisawa smiled in the same friendly fashion with which he'd treated Sano since a few days after he'd made his reappearance on the political scene. He smoothed his hair, which had grown back since he'd shaved his head to disguise himself as a priest while in hiding. It was too short to tie in the customary samurai topknot, but thick and glossy and black even though he and Sano were the same age and Sano's hair had begun turning gray.
"You fought a good battle," Yanagisawa said.
Sano listened for nuances of hostility in Yanagisawa's tone but heard none. "So did you."
Yanagisawa laughed. "We slaughtered those poor bastards."
Not once had he lifted a hand to harm Sano. For over a year he and Sano had coexisted in a peace that Sano hadn't thought possible. Not that Sano minded a reprieve from feuding and assassination attempts, but their pleasant camaraderie felt all wrong, like the sun shining at midnight.
He and Yanagisawa took their places at the head of their rowdy, cheering army. The judge said to them, "Your team wins the top prize for equestrian combat in water-a barrel of the best sake for each man. I commend your excellent coaching."
"Isn't it a good thing we're on the same side now?" Yanagisawa said to Sano.
"Indeed," Sano said with feigned enthusiasm.
Yanagisawa was up to something. Sano knew.
So did everybody else. Sano had overheard their colleagues in the government speculating about what Yanagisawa had in store for him and taking bets as to when Yanagisawa would make his first move.
The shogun came hurrying up to them. He was thin, frail, and looked a decade older than his fifty-five years. A servant held an umbrella over his head, protecting him from the drizzle. "Ahh, Sano-san, Yanagisawa-san!" he exclaimed. Delight animated his weak, aristocratic features. "Congratulations on your, ahh, victory!"
Sano and Yanagisawa bowed and made modest disclaimers. Yanagisawa didn't try to hog the credit or make Sano look bad, as he would have in the past. Sano didn't trust this radical change in behavior.
"You make such a good team," the shogun said. "I think I, ahh, made the right decision when I appointed both of you as my chamberlains."
They shared the post of chamberlain and second-in-command to the shogun. That honor, which had first belonged solely to Yanagisawa, had passed to Sano when Yanagisawa had been exiled. When Yanagisawa returned, he'd expected to regain the post, and Sano had been ready to fight to keep it. But the shogun, always loath to exercise his judgment, had been unable to choose which one of them he preferred and made the unprecedented move of splitting the job between two men.
Two men whose antagonism could wreak havoc in the government and tear Japan apart.
Some said it was the most foolish decision ever made by this dictator not known for wisdom. Nobody thought the partnership between Sano and Yanagisawa would last a day without a blowup. But it had defied the odds.
Sano had expected Yanagisawa to oppose everything he did, to undermine his standing with the shogun, to try to turn every powerful man inside and outside the regime against him and run him out of office. But Yanagisawa had cooperated fully and, to all appearances, gladly with Sano. Together they'd overseen the huge, complicated machine of the bakufu-Japan's military government-with smooth, startling efficiency.
Yanagisawa lifted his eyebrow at Sano. "Imagine all the good we could have accomplished years ago if we'd been working together."
Instead of you trying to kill me and me trying to fend you off, Sano thought. "Two heads are better than one," he said out loud.
"Yes, yes," the shogun agreed happily.
Because he hated and feared conflict, he was glad to see his two dearest friends getting along so well. He didn't know they'd ever been enemies or had once vied for control of his regime, which was tantamount to treason. He was astoundingly oblivious to what went on around him, and Sano and Yanagisawa enforced a conspiracy of silence to keep the shogun ignorant.
Often Sano suspected the shogun knew the truth perfectly well, but acknowledging it would require him to take action for which he hadn't the stomach.
"Well, the fun's over," Yanagisawa said. "It's back to business for us, Honorable Chamberlain Sano."
"Yes, Honorable Chamberlain Yanagisawa," Sano said.
Although his former enemy's words were spoken with no trace of a threat, Sano searched them for hidden meanings. He knew the game between him and Yanagisawa was still on, and he was at a serious disadvantage.
Sano's spies hadn't managed to dig up a single clue as to what Yanagisawa was plotting. To all appearances, Yanagisawa had decided that it was better to join forces with Sano instead of risking his neck again. Yanagisawa had reportedly told his allies among the top officials and the daimyo-feudal lords who governed Japan's provinces-that he wasn't interested in fighting Sano anymore. And he'd not tried to recruit Sano's allies to his side.
Yanagisawa had changed the rules of the game, but Sano didn't know what they were. He felt like a blind samurai heading into battle. He could only wait, a sitting target.
The audience departed; the armies dispersed. Waterlogged troops trudged off to drink, celebrate, commiserate, or bathe. Grooms took charge of the horses. The shogun climbed into his palanquin, and his bearers carried him toward the palace. Yanagisawa looked past Sano and said, "I believe there's someone who would like your attention."
Sano turned. He saw, some thirty paces away, an elderly samurai waiting alone beside the stands, watching him. Recognition jolted Sano. Into his heart crept a cold sensation of dread.
2
Sano stood perfectly still as the samurai walked across the martial arts ground toward him. Everyone else receded to the edges of his awareness. Sano felt as if he and the samurai were alone on the muddy, trampled field. He suppressed an irrational urge to draw his sword. Its blade was wooden, and this encounter wasn't a duel.
Then again, perhaps it was.
The samurai stopped a few paces from Sano. He was in his sixties, his physique lean but strong, his shoulders held squarely rigid. He wore a metal helmet, and a leather armor tunic with the Tokugawa triple-hollyhock-leaf crest embossed on its breastplate over a silk robe and trousers striped in dark gray and black. An insignia on his helmet showed that he held the rank of major in the army. His forehead was severely creased, as if from too much frowning. Harsh lines bracketed his tight mouth.
"Good day," he said, bowing. "Please permit me to introduce myself." His deep voice had a faint quaver of old age and an oddly familiar ring. "I am Kumazawa Hiroyuki."
"I know," Sano said.
He'd never met Major Kumazawa face-to-face; they'd never spoken. But he'd observed the man from a distance and knew everything about him that the official government records, and Sano's own spies, could tell. In Sano's desk was a dossier on the entire Kumazawa clan. Sano had compiled it after a murder investigation that had revealed secret facts about his own background.