The group had gotten little sleep due to late, noisy, drunken parties hosted by Keisho-in every night at the inns where they’d stayed. Reiko, forced to share chambers with Lady Yanagisawa, had hardly dared close her eyes at all. Now fatigue weighed upon her; yet she couldn’t even doze in her palanquin, because someone always needed her company. Keisho-in didn’t want to ride with Midori, who took up too much space, or Lady Yanagisawa, whose reticence bored her. Midori said Lady Yanagisawa frightened her, and Lady Yanagisawa could bear no one except Reiko. Hence, Reiko divided her time between her three companions.
“This climate makes my bones hurt,” Keisho-in complained. She extended her legs to Reiko. “Massage my feet.”
Reiko rubbed the gnarled toes, hoping not to arouse desire in her companion. So far Lady Keisho-in had satisfied herself with the soldiers, or the ladies-in-waiting and maids who rode in the last six palanquins. But Reiko feared that Keisho-in’s roving eye would turn on her. Estimating at least another two days on the road before they arrived at their destination, Reiko sighed. Mount Fuji, hidden by the clouds, seemed as far as the end of the world, and her return home seemed eons away. She prayed that something would happen to cut short this trip.
The road angled through a gorge bordered by high, steep cliffs. Crooked pines clung to the eroded earth. Pebbles skittered down the cliffs to the road. As the procession moved onward, the cliff on its right gave way to level forest. The road curved out of sight between tall, aromatic cedars on one side and sheer rock on the other. Reiko’s senses tingled at a change in the atmosphere. Suddenly alert, she froze.
“Why have you stopped massaging?” Keisho-in said irritably.
“There’s something wrong.” Reiko put her head out the window and listened. “It’s too quiet. I don’t hear any birds, and no one has passed us in a long while.”
A rush of fear assailed Reiko; her heartbeat accelerated. In front of the palanquin rode Sano’s two detectives, and Reiko saw them turn their heads and sweep their gazes across the landscape, as if they, too, perceived danger. Then she heard hissing noises. Torrents of slender shafts whizzed down from the cliff top. A soldier screamed and collapsed with an arrow protruding from his neck. The procession dissolved into chaos as men dodged the arrows and horses bolted. Reiko ducked back inside the window.
“What is happening?” Lady Keisho-in demanded.
“Someone’s shooting at us. Get down!” Reiko pushed Lady Keisho-in onto the cushioned floor of the palanquin and slammed the windows shut.
More arrows thudded against the palanquin’s roof. Shouts burst from the troops and servants, anxious twittering from the women in the other palanquins.
Outside, the guard captain shouted, “We’re under attack! Run forward! Stay together!”
The palanquin lurched, gathering speed, jolting as the bearers trotted. Hoofbeats pounded amid screams. The air whirred with the quickening storm of arrows. Their steel points clattered on the road, rang against armor, struck human flesh with meaty thumps. Men bellowed in agony, then the palanquin crashed to the ground with an impact that broke the windows off their hinges and jarred Reiko against Lady Keisho-in.
“Our bearers have been killed.” Horror flooded Reiko as she looked outside and saw the men sprawled beneath their shoulder poles. “We can’t move.” Up the road, arrows felled running soldiers in their tracks. Horses galloped past the dead, crumpled bodies of their riders, after the mounted troops of the advance guard. Behind Reiko, the procession had stalled. “And we’re blocking everyone else’s way.”
The other bearers set down their palanquins; porters dropped baggage. The advance guard reversed its flight, hastening to defend the procession. “Everyone hide in the forest!” shouted the captain.
Servants, porters, and bearers fled down the banked roadside, into the shadowy haven between the trees.
“They’re abandoning us!” Lady Keisho-in cried, indignant.
Troops thundered up alongside the row of palanquins, shouting for the ladies to get out. Reiko grabbed Keisho-in by the hand. “Come on.”
As they exited the palanquin, Reiko saw Midori, Lady Yanagisawa, and the female attendants emerge from their vehicles. Then screams blared from the forest. People who’d taken cover there came running out, their faces masks of terror. The woods disgorged upon them a horde of men armed with swords and clad in armor tunics and leg guards, chain-mail sleeves, and metal helmets. Black hoods, with holes for the eyes, covered their faces. The men chased the attendants, slashing their blades at porters who dropped dead on the highway with bloody wounds across their naked backs. The savagery struck Reiko mute; shock momentarily paralyzed her.
“Bandits!” cried Lady Keisho-in.
The other women babbled in fright. The captain shouted, “Ladies, get back in the palanquins!”
Reiko thrust the shogun’s mother inside, leapt in after her, and closed the door. Outside, the attackers slaughtered servants, pursued those who fled.
“Merciful gods,” Reiko said, astounded as well as aghast. “Who dares attack an official Tokugawa procession?”
The captain shouted orders to his army. While a few troops guarded the palanquins, foot soldiers and mounted samurai launched a defense. Blades lashed hooded men; horses trampled them. But more attackers erupted from the forest, outnumbering the sixty troops that had seemed adequate protection during peacetime. Now every soldier battled multiple opponents. Mounted warriors circled, surrounded by their foes, their horses rearing; their blades whistled arcs in the air. Hooded men dropped, but their comrades slashed the riders dead in their saddles, or dragged them down and slew them. Foot soldiers whirled in desperate dances, weapons flashing. Scarlet gashes from enemy blades appeared on their bodies, and their garments flew in tatters, until they expired from mortal injuries.
The shooting from the cliffs continued. Arrows claimed fleeing servants, pierced the throat of a horse that toppled, spurting blood, and crushed his rider. Meanwhile, the attackers continued to massacre the entourage. Forest and mountains resounded with the echoes of yells and clashing blades.
Reiko watched, transfixed by horror. “Those men can’t be ordinary bandits,” she said. “They fight too well. And they didn’t just happen to be here, waiting to rob any rich travelers who come along. This ambush was organized in advance, for us.”
Lady Keisho-in didn’t answer. She stared past Reiko, mouth agape, at the carnage.
“The money we brought might seem worth risking their lives to steal,” Reiko said, “but why kill helpless, unarmed people?”
She listened to the other women sobbing in their palanquins, and she worried about Midori, alone and pregnant and terrified. Reiko remembered her wish for something to curtail the trip, and she tasted bitter irony and guilt.
The road, and the grass at the forest’s edge, were littered with corpses and red with blood. The attackers had chased down the porters, servants, and bearers and slain most of the army. The arrows had ceased. Now a few surviving troops, including Sano’s two detectives, fought the legion of hooded men. Combatants darted and blades slashed, dangerously near Reiko. Bodies struck the palanquin; the flimsy vehicle shuddered. Lady Keisho-in clung to Reiko and wailed. Reiko drew the dagger that she wore under her sleeve, ready to defend their lives.
Soon the number of fighters dwindled; Sano’s detectives were among those fallen. Then the battle abruptly ceased. In the eerie quiet that descended, more than fifty men gathered on the road. Some limped, sporting bloody wounds; their chests heaved with exertion. They all wore hoods. Reiko saw their eyes glint through the holes, heard their breath rasping through the black cloth. Terror constricted her heart. The attackers had defeated the army.