But even as the Dragon King spoke, another gunshot roared somewhere on the island. He swiveled his head to look outside at the wind-tossed trees and dark sky beyond the balcony. He turned back to Reiko and attempted a reassuring smile.
“Come, let’s have a drink,” he said.
He’d already been drinking, Reiko noticed from the smell of his breath. They knelt side by side at the table, and he poured two cups of sake from the decanter. While she sipped hers, he downed his in one quick gulp. She poured him another, hoping he would drink much more, dull his wits, and weaken himself.
“Do you feel better now?” he said.
“Much better, my lord.” Reiko watched him drain the cup again. “But I sense evil influences in the air.” She shivered, glancing nervously around. She began spinning a line of words that would bring him under her power: “The forces that would separate us are gaining strength. I fear that our time together is short.”
“We have all the time in the world, Anemone,” the Dragon King said.
Yet Reiko heard a qualm of uncertainty beneath his confident tone: He was following where she wanted to lead him. She said, “But we mortals can never be sure of the future. Our lives might end at any moment. And then we’ll never enjoy all the pleasures we postponed.”
The Dragon King frowned, nodding as if absorbing her speech, yet wondering at its significance.
“I want you to make love to me.” Reiko’s voice cracked as she spoke the words that she never wanted to say to any man except Sano. “I want us to be together-before it’s too late.”
His lips parted as he stared in awe at her bold proposition. She heard his breathing grow loud and rapid, saw the pupils of his eyes dilate. But a strange, fearful reluctance stayed him. Slowly he shook his head.
“We must wait until Hoshina has paid for the harm he did us,” he said.
Desperation assailed Reiko. She must seduce him, for how else could she overpower a man stronger than herself? How else could she make him let down his guard and remove his swords so that she could kill him?
“I don’t want to wait any longer,” Reiko said. Now was her best time, when his men were busy fighting the invaders and wouldn’t interfere. “This might be our last chance to fulfill our desire. If we give up the chance, we may regret it forever.”
Urgency sparked her with a passion that no ordinary man could resist. But the Dragon King leaned away from Reiko, his facial muscles twitching in alarm. She rose and tugged his hand. “Come,” she said. “Let me give myself to you.”
He let her raise him to his feet. She felt resistance dragging him down, and need pulsing in his warm, sweaty palm. “Not yet,” he said. “We mustn’t.”
“We must.” Reiko stepped toward the bedchamber beyond the open partition.
The Dragon King stiffened his arm; he stood immobile. His panicky gaze darted wildly in search of reprieve from what he wanted to do and she would rather avoid, except for necessity’s sake. Reiko smiled, flashing her eyes in invitation. As she gave his hand another tug, he exhaled. Step by deliberate step, they moved toward his bedchamber.
Across the lake, Sano and Chamberlain Yanagisawa rode from the woodland darkness and reined in their horses on the lake-shore. Their procession of mounted men, foot soldiers, and boats halted along the track behind them. In front of them, beyond water that shimmered black and silver in the moonlight, rose Dannoshin’s island.
Sano expelled a breath of relief that they’d finally reached their destination, after traveling hard for two days, while General Isogai, Lord Niu, and their troops followed like a long tail on a kite. Now, exhausted from his nonstop journey, Sano could hear the beat of their horses’ hooves fast approaching. As he and Yanagisawa studied Dannoshin’s island, he saw lights moving there. He heard shouting, and sporadic booms. Wisps of smoke rose from the island and hovered in the moonlight. The wind carried a bitter tang of gunpowder. Sano’s heart sank because he realized what had happened.
“It seems that someone has beaten us here,” Yanagisawa said. Suspicion and recollection edged the gaze he fixed on Sano. “I haven’t seen your chief retainer lately.”
“I sent him and two detectives to trace the women,” Sano confessed. “He was supposed to come back to Edo and report their whereabouts.”
“Apparently, he decided to attempt a rescue instead,” Yanagisawa said, “and he’s fighting a war with Dannoshin.”
“Apparently.”
Shock pierced Sano to the core. That Hirata had disobeyed his orders seemed impossible. That Hirata had broken the sacred bond between retainer and master was a grievous breach of honor. But Sano could think of no better explanation for the war on the island, nor any other reason why Hirata hadn’t returned to Edo. He understood how much Hirata wanted to rescue Midori, but he was horrified and outraged that Hirata had not only betrayed his trust but put Reiko in jeopardy. Had Dannoshin slain her and the other women as soon as he realized he was under attack?
“There’s no hope of negotiating a peaceful return of the hostages now,” Yanagisawa said. Turning to the troops, he shouted, “Prepare to invade the island!”
Inside the Dragon King’s bedchamber, the candles and incense burned before the portrait of Anemone. The futon lay spread near the altar. With terror speeding her heartbeat and nausea clenching her stomach, Reiko coaxed the Dragon King toward the bed. Along the way, she let the teal robe slide from her body, then shed her white undergarment. He moaned, and a visible shudder passed through him. Reiko endured his avid gaze on her nakedness. Her mind imposed a barrier between her spirit and the loathsome scene she was enacting. She took the Dragon King’s hands and placed them on her hips.
He uttered a hoarse exclamation. His face was flushed and glistening with perspiration. Reiko willed her skin to turn numb against his warm, damp touch. She untied his sash.
“Please don’t,” he muttered.
But he didn’t stop her. He stood wobbling fearfully before her while his swords clattered to the floor. As Reiko murmured endearments, she glanced down at the weapons. They lay near the end of the futon. She slipped the Dragon King’s kimono and under-robe off him. His body was muscular, but chunky and graceless; wiry hair sprouted from his torso. Just as Reiko bent to grab the long sword, he clambered out of his trousers with rapid, clumsy movements that blocked her reach for the sword. Moaning, he tore away the band of white cotton fabric that bound his loins; he freed his erect manhood, which was short and veined, purplish from the blood that engorged it. He seized Reiko and pulled her down onto the futon.
They toppled together. The lost chance to kill him, and the hot, intimate press of their flesh, horrified Reiko. An involuntary cry burst from her.
“Anemone, my beautiful Anemone,” the Dragon King moaned.
He clumsily pawed her neck and shoulders. He squeezed her buttocks, groped between her legs. All the while, his erection pressed against her thighs. Reiko tried to maintain her detachment and courage, but she felt as if every touch from him spread filth over her. When he sucked voraciously at her nipples, she choked on silent screams. His body lay between her and his swords. How could she reach them before he consummated his terrible desire?
“Let me pleasure you, my lord,” she gasped out.
Extricating herself from him, she rose up and straddled the Dragon King. He lay passive, his chest heaving and eyes half shut. Reiko swayed her body against his. He keened in delight, while she glanced sideways. The short sword lay closest, an arm’s length from the bed. Keeping one eye on the sword, she grasped the Dragon King’s erection. She pumped him, detesting the feel of the rigid, pulsating shaft. His pelvis arched. Groans erupted from him. Reiko pumped faster, hoping to bring him to climax before he could penetrate her. Then, while he was distracted by the throes of release, she could grab the sword, unsheath the blade, and stab him.