“You’re not taking them anywhere,” Sano told Isogai. “They’re my retainers. I’ll deal with them as I see fit.”
“If you want to resist, by all means do.” Lord Matsudaira’s smile dared Sano to draw his sword inside Edo Castle, a violation of the law for which the penalty was death by seppuku. The troops from the army and the Matsudaira entourage advanced on Sano and his men. Sano had two choices: He could play into Lord Matsudaira’s hands, or live to fight another day.
Sano, and his men, reluctantly stepped aside. Lord Matsudaira looked pleased because he’d won a round, yet disappointed because Sano hadn’t given him the excuse to kill him on the spot.
General Isogai signaled his troops, who propelled Ishikawa and Ejima toward the palace. “Come along if you like, Honorable Chamberlain. Or are you too much of a coward to face the truth and the consequences?”
The dangerous fire season had put the shogun in fear for his life. Seated on the dais in the reception room, he wore a leather cape and helmet in case the palace started burning. Lord Matsudaira knelt at his right, Yoritomo on his left. Lord Arima and General Isogai sat below them, near Lord Matsudaira. Sano and Hirata were relegated to the lower level of the floor, with the two murderers. Sano’s troops, Lord Matsudaira’s, the Tokugawa army soldiers, and the shogun’s personal guards stood ganged up in factions along the walls. The air was thick with antagonism and too warm from body heat.
“Who are those men, and why have you insisted that I grant them an audience?” the shogun peevishly asked Lord Matsudaira.
Lord Matsudaira introduced Ishikawa and Ejima. Their heads were bowed, their bodies trembling so hard that Sano could feel the floor shake. “Your cousin Tadatoshi’s tutor was murdered last night. They did it. They confessed.”
Sano’s mind raced as he formulated and discarded plans. He felt his men’s panic like a contagious disease in the air, but he drew upon his samurai training to calm his thoughts. He came from a long line of warriors who’d weathered crises and lived to tell. He watched for an opportunity to avert disaster.
“Well, ahh, that’s unfortunate, but why should I care?” the shogun said.
“They’re Chamberlain Sano’s men. They assassinated the tutor. He ordered them to do it,” Lord Matsudaira said.
Sano opened his mouth to contradict, but the shogun raised a hand for silence and said, “Why would Chamberlain Sano have done such a thing?” That he wasn’t ready to take Lord Matsudaira’s word for it gave Sano hope, but not much.
“He wanted to punish the tutor for incriminating his mother. And he hoped that once the tutor was gone, he could discredit the man’s story and convince you that she’s innocent.” Lord Matsudaira hammered in his point in case the shogun had missed it: “He meant to trick you and save his own skin.”
The shogun looked from Lord Matsudaira to Sano; his eyes narrowed with suspicion at them both. His face showed his fear that one or the other was playing him for a fool. While he chewed his lip and pondered what to do, everyone braced for his wrath, wondering on which side it would fall.
At last the shogun said, “I will have these men speak for themselves.” He turned to Ishikawa and Ejima. “Well? Did you or did you not kill the tutor?”
“Yes, Your Excellency,” they whispered. Sano could smell their rank odor of sweat and nerves.
“Was it on orders from Chamberlain Sano?” the shogun asked.
Sano fixed his gaze on his men. They wouldn’t look at him. With all the ancient, bred-in-the-blood power that a master held over his retainers, he willed them to speak the truth.
Ishikawa hunched his shoulders up to his ears. Ejima clenched his teeth and swallowed hard, as if to prevent himself from vomiting. Neither said a word.
“Speak up!” Lord Matsudaira ordered.
The shogun hushed him with an irate glance and said, “Chamberlain Sano, instruct your men to answer my question.”
Sano shifted position so that he faced them and spoke in a low, intense voice that projected the entire force of his will. “You know and I know that I never ordered you to kill that man. Now be honorable enough to admit you lied.”
They burst into tears. “All right, we lied!” Ishikawa exclaimed. “It wasn’t you that made us kill him.”
“We’re sorry, Honorable Chamberlain,” cried Ejima. “Please forgive us!”
Relief washed through Sano. Lord Matsudaira, General Isogai, and Lord Arima exchanged appalled glances. But even though Sano felt vindicated and triumphant, he had a sense of something not right.
“What kind of, ahh, game are you playing?” the shogun indignantly asked Ishikawa and Ejima. “Either you killed that man on Chamberlain Sano’s orders or you didn’t. Which is it?”
“They did,” Lord Matsudaira hastened to say. “They’re only denying it because Chamberlain Sano put pressure on them.”
He shot Sano a venomous look, then stalked off the dais toward the men. Fists clenched, thunderous with anger, he said, “Tell His Excellency that you killed the tutor because your master told you to!” He beckoned to his troops, who surged threateningly around Ishikawa and Ejima.
“Our master had nothing to do with it,” Ishikawa said as he cowered and tears ran down his face.
Ejima gasped for breath; his chest heaved. “We swear on our ancestors’ graves that Chamberlain Sano is innocent.”
“Tell us who did send you to kill the tutor,” Sano ordered.
His voice was drowned by the men’s sobs, threats from Lord Matsudaira and General Isogai, and the shogun saying feebly, “Quiet, everyone quiet!”
“We must atone for betraying our master,” Ishikawa cried. “We must restore our honor.” He and Ejima reached under their sleeves and whipped out daggers.
Aghast, Sano lunged and grabbed for the weapons. So did Hirata, Lord Matsudaira, and a horde of troops. They and Sano collided while the shogun exclaimed, “What’s going on?”
Amid the confusion, Ishikawa and Ejima plunged the daggers into their bellies and ripped the blades through their innards. They screamed in agony.
Sano, Hirata, Lord Matsudaira, and the troops fell back from the two men, who collapsed onto the floor. Ishikawa and Ejima moaned and convulsed. Blood poured from their cut bellies.
“Merciful Buddha!” The shogun’s complexion turned green. “I’m going to be sick!” He leaned over the edge of the dais and retched.
“You should have searched them for hidden weapons,” Lord Matsudaira berated General Isogai.
“I didn’t think there was any need,” Isogai retorted. “Who knew they would commit seppuku right in the palace?”
“Someone fetch a doctor!” Sano shouted.
“It’s too late,” Hirata said. “Those wounds are fatal.”
Ishikawa’s and Ejima’s faces turned white; the life rapidly drained from their eyes. Lord Matsudaira shouted, “Don’t you dare die yet!” He grabbed the men by the front of their robes and shook them. “Not before you tell the shogun that Chamberlain Sano ordered you to assassinate the tutor!”
“Before you die, confess the truth,” Sano urged, shoving Lord Matsudaira away. “It wasn’t me. Who was it?”
Ishikawa raised a trembling hand and pointed toward the dais. A gout of blood erupted from Ejima’s mouth as he spoke his last words: “It was Lord Arima.”
In the shocked silence, everyone turned to stare at Lord Arima. He’d not spoken during the whole scene, and Sano had almost forgotten he was present. Lord Arima looked startled, but the expression vanished at once, absorbed by his oily skin.
“I had nothing to do with the murder,” he said, unperturbed. “Those men falsely accused me.”
“They incriminated you with their dying words,” Sano said as he began to understand how and why the murder had transpired. Sano burned with anger at Lord Arima. “I believe them.”
The shogun moaned as Yoritomo wiped his face. “Take them away,” he ordered his guards. “I can’t bear to look at them.” As the guards carried the bodies out the door, he whined, “I don’t understand. Why would Arima have wanted to assassinate the tutor? Why would he employ Chamberlain Sano’s men?”