“… Aah?” The shogun pursed his mouth.
Sano was glad to see that Yanagisawa had undermined Priest Ryuko’s influence and the shogun’s certainty about his own judgment. Yet the guards propelled Sano, Yanagisawa, and Hoshina toward the door, and the shogun didn’t intervene. Sano’s panic grew. Unless he could sway his lord, he would die in disgrace. Reiko would die without him to save her. All because his honor had forced him to protect Hoshina, who didn’t deserve protecting, and because he’d failed to convince the shogun that executing Hoshina wasn’t the solution to their problem.
“Yes, Priest Ryuko is a fraud,” Sano said in desperation. Speaking out against the powerful cleric couldn’t hurt him any more than could keeping silent. “You need us, Your Excellency. We’re your only hope of saving the honorable Lady Keisho-in.”
Irresolution, and his tendency to quail when anyone opposed him, wavered the shogun’s stance.
“Destroy us, and she’s doomed,” Chamberlain Yanagisawa said. “Spare us, and we’ll prove our loyalty by returning her safe and sound to Your Excellency.”
A short eternity passed while Tokugawa Tsunayoshi vacillated. Crows in the garden cawed like the carrion birds that flocked the execution ground. At last, the shogun raised a tentative hand to the guards. They paused, bridling Sano, Yanagisawa, and Hoshina at the threshold.
“You haven’t, ahh, found my mother yet, so why should I, ahh, believe you can ever rescue her?” Tokugawa Tsunayoshi demanded.
Sano noted that crises affected people in different ways, and this one had improved the shogun’s wits. Hoshina mutely waited, his face confused, as if he couldn’t guess whether he was about to be saved or on the brink of his downfall.
“That we’ve learned why the kidnappers took the honorable Lady Keisho-in has opened a new avenue of inquiry,” Sano said. “I now know where to begin looking for them.” All his hopes for Reiko hinged on that belief. “This time I’ll find her.” Conviction strengthened his voice. “I swear it on my honor.”
Abruptly, the shogun plopped down on the dais. “Very well,” he said with the air of a man eager to trust what he heard, make a decision, and spurn responsibility. “I grant you the, ahh, right to continue your search.” He waved off the guards who held Sano and Yanagisawa. “Resume your, ahh, seats.”
“A million thanks, Your Excellency,” Yanagisawa said, meek for once.
Sano exhaled a trapped breath. He and Yanagisawa slunk back to their places, knelt, and bowed to the shogun. Tokugawa Tsunayoshi said, “But what should we, ahh, do about the, ahh, ransom letter? It seems that whether I comply or not, I am damned.”
Chamberlain Yanagisawa gave Sano a look that said, Yes, what should we do?
“Hoshina-san is your insurance of your honorable mother’s survival,” Sano told the shogun. “Therefore, I advise you to postpone his execution. The kidnappers will keep Lady Keisho-in alive because the promise of her return is their only means of forcing you to meet their demands.”
Sano didn’t voice his fear that the women were already dead and whatever the shogun did wouldn’t help them. “The kidnappers have gone to great lengths to destroy Hoshina-san,” he continued, “and the fact that they want him dead so badly works to our advantage. They’ll wait for you to execute him. Stalling them will give me time to hunt them down.”
“That sounds like a, ahh, good plan,” the shogun said, mollified.
Hoshina cleared his throat. “Then may I be freed, Your Excellency?” His voice was unsteady, his complexion blanched.
The shogun nodded, but Sano said quickly, “No-you must imprison him and announce to the public that he’s been sentenced to death. The kidnappers will hear the news and think you intend to give in to them. The longer they think so, the longer we have to rescue Lady Keisho-in.”
Furthermore, Sano couldn’t let Hoshina go free because he might panic and run. Hoshina was also insurance of Reiko’s survival, and Sano wanted him under close watch.
“Very well,” said the shogun, then addressed the guards: “Place Hoshina-san under, ahh, house arrest.”
As the guards led Hoshina from the chamber, he cast an ireful glance at Sano: He obviously thought Sano should have done better by him. He displayed no gratitude toward Sano for saving his life, nor relief that the shogun had spared it.
The shogun turned to Sano and Yanagisawa. “I shall, ahh, announce that Hoshina-san will be executed in, ahh, seven days.” The crisis had also spurred him to rare, decisive authority. “That is how long you, ahh, have to rescue my mother.”
“Yes, Your Excellency,” Sano and Yanagisawa chorused.
Although their moment of gravest peril had passed, Sano foresaw the dangers of the plan he’d foisted upon his lord. His skin was clammy, his hands and feet turned to lumps of ice; nausea lurched his stomach.
“If you don’t succeed by then, Hoshina-san dies.” Menace darkened the shogun’s gaze, infused his voice. “And if you’ve, ahh, advised me wrong, and my mother dies, I’ll, ahh, execute you both.”
“Yes, Your Excellency,” Yanagisawa said in a subdued tone.
Sano could barely nod, for if he tried to speak anymore, he would vomit up the dread born of knowing that if he’d advised the shogun wrong, he’d not only doomed himself but sealed Reiko’s destruction.
14
Sunshine fell across Reiko’s face and penetrated her closed eyelids. Jarred suddenly awake, she found herself sitting with the broken rafter on her lap, slumped against the wall of the prison. Rays of morning light pierced the window shutters and ceiling and meshed in the dusty air. Reiko bolted up. She’d meant to wait alert for the kidnappers, but sometime during the night she’d dozed off. Now she hastened to Midori, Keisho-in, and Lady Yanagisawa, who lay asleep and motionless.
“Wake up,” she said urgently, shaking them. As they groaned and stirred to life, Reiko said, “The kidnappers might arrive any moment. We must prepare.”
The loud, abrasive opening of the door reverberated up through the floor. They all jumped.
“They’re coming!” Midori cried.
Reiko pointed Midori and Keisho-in toward a back corner. “Sit over there. Hurry!” They obeyed. Reiko seated Lady Yanagisawa against the rear wall, opposite the door. The woman’s face was still vacant with drowsiness, her movements slow. “Do you remember what to do?” Reiko anxiously asked.
A hesitant nod from Lady Yanagisawa inspired little confidence in Reiko. She hurried to stand in her own place beside the door. She gripped the rafter in both hands, raising it like a club. As they all waited in suspense, footsteps thumped up the first flight of stairs. Reiko thought she heard only two men this time, and she was glad. The fewer of them, the better her chances.
The footsteps mounted higher. Outside, pigeons cooed and fluttered wildly on the roof; the lapping waves registered each moment. Suddenly Lady Yanagisawa said, “Reiko-san?”
“What?” Reiko said, disturbed that the woman should speak at a critical moment.
“Yesterday, when you said you think my husband loves me… Did you really mean it?” Lady Yanagisawa eyed Reiko as intently as though the answer was all that mattered.
Reiko was surprised that Lady Yanagisawa had heard what Reiko had told her while she’d seemed dead to the world. Though she regretted the lie, Reiko didn’t want to upset Lady Yanagisawa by admitting the truth. “Yes, I did mean it,” she said, and trained her gaze on the door.
Outside, the footsteps paused. Reiko’s heart raced; her breaths came fast as her hands tightened on her weapon. Keisho-in and Midori watched the door with dread. Lady Yanagisawa sat in apparent tranquility. The door opened. In stepped the cruel samurai who’d come yesterday. Suddenly Lady Yanagisawa flung back her head and let out a bloodcurdling scream. She tore open her kimono, baring her breasts. She clawed at them, and her fingernails raked raw scratches across her skin.