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Under other circumstances the shogun might have forgotten the whole affair. Two years was too long for his capricious nature to sustain a grudge, and he cared nothing for his wife. Their marriage was a matter of political convenience, and he preferred men to women. But Yanagisawa and Yoritomo were always reminding him. Now he glared at Sano.

“How could you do such a terrible thing to me?” the shogun demanded. Never mind that his wife was the one who’d suffered; he took everything personally. “After all I’ve done for you. Without me, you would be a, ahh, nobody!”

Sano had been a ronin-a masterless samurai-until he’d entered the Tokugawa regime as a detective inspector in the police department. During his first murder case he’d caught the shogun’s attention. The shogun had created a new position just for Sano-Most Honorable Investigator of Events, Situations, and People. Ever since then he’d accused Sano of ingratitude and overlooked the fact that Sano had more than earned his good fortune, often paying for it with his own blood.

Nettled, Sano defended himself yet again. “With all due respect, your wife’s kidnapping wasn’t a part of the set of crimes. Chamberlain Yanagisawa engineered her kidnapping and rape.”

“Rubbish,” Kato scoffed.

Ihara seconded him; they were both Yanagisawa’s cronies. “You’ve no proof.”

Sano had tried and failed to turn up any evidence against Yanagisawa, who’d thoroughly covered his tracks.

“Sano-san’s accusation is a pitiful attempt to shift the blame, Your Excellency,” Yanagisawa said. “It’s his word against mine. And you’ve already decided whom to believe.”

He mounted the dais and knelt in the position of honor at the shogun’s right. He gave Sano a smug smile, enjoying his own privileged status and Sano’s ignominious position outside in the cold. Yoritomo sat close to the shogun, on his left. He gleamed maliciously at Sano.

An eerie shiver rippled down Sano’s spine. The resemblance between Yoritomo and Yanagisawa grew stronger every year, while the son aged and the father never seemed to change. And they shared a history as well as their looks.

In his youth, Yanagisawa had been a mere son of a vassal of a minor lord. Then he’d enchanted the shogun with his beauty, charm, and sexual skills. The shogun came to rely on his counsel and turned over the administration to Yanagisawa.

Yoritomo was the product of an affair between Yanagisawa and a court lady-in-waiting, a distant cousin of the shogun’s. Yoritomo too had enchanted the shogun with his beauty, charm, and sexual skills. Now he occupied his father’s former position as the shogun’s favorite lover. The shogun relied more and more on his advice. Yanagisawa and Yoritomo had a hold over the shogun that no one could break.

Sano thought of his own son, Masahiro, who was eleven years old. He could never make Masahiro into such a political pawn. He loved Masahiro too much.

“You’re right,” Yoritomo said to Ihara. “Sano-san has been bad for the Tokugawa clan, and he’s lucky to be alive.”

He hated Sano as much as his father did. When Yanagisawa had been exiled, Yoritomo had stayed in Edo with the shogun. Sano had befriended the youth, who was vulnerable to his father’s enemies. Then Yanagisawa had secretly returned, and Yoritomo had helped him stage his comeback. Yanagisawa had attacked Sano from behind the scenes until Sano had lured Yanagisawa out of hiding. Sano had used Yoritomo for bait, in a cruel trick that Yoritomo couldn’t forgive, even though Sano had apologized. It didn’t matter to Yoritomo that he’d conspired against Sano and deserved retaliation. Yoritomo was now Sano’s bitter enemy.

“Yes, I, ahh, should have put you to death for what you did to me, Sano-san.” The shogun looked puzzled. “Why didn’t I?”

Everybody spoke at once. Sano said, “Because you know in your heart that I’m innocent,” while Yanagisawa said, “Because you’re too kind, Your Excellency.” “Because Sano-san manipulated you,” Yoritomo said. Ohgami said, “Because you need his services.”

There was truth to all these reasons why Sano had been demoted to his former position instead of being forced to commit ritual suicide, the samurai alternative to execution. The shogun wasn’t entirely cowed by Yanagisawa and Yoritomo, and he probably suspected they’d set Sano up. He did have some compassion under his selfishness. Some fast talking by Sano had convinced the shogun not to give him the death penalty. And the shogun had always needed Sano to save the regime from various troubles.

Furthermore, Sano still had friends among important Tokugawa officials and powerful daimyo, feudal lords who ruled the provinces. They’d pressured the shogun to keep him alive. And Yanagisawa had many enemies, who supported Sano as their best hope of checking his rise to absolute power. But no one could say any of this openly. The shogun didn’t know about the struggle over control of the regime. Yanagisawa and his rivals didn’t want their lord to find out. A conspiracy of silence reigned.

But that didn’t prevent Yanagisawa and Yoritomo from doing everything they could to denigrate Sano in front of the shogun. Yanagisawa said, “Even though Sano-san deserves a harsher punishment, at least he’s back where he belongs.”

Sano gritted his teeth. The demotion was an extreme loss of face, a crushing blow to his samurai honor. Although he knew he must persevere for the sake of his family, his retainers, and everyone else whose fortune depended on him, in his darkest hours he thought death would have been better than this constant humiliation.

“Being chamberlain was too big a job for Sano-san,” Yoritomo chimed in. “Catching louts who defile the palace is more his size.”

Ihara and Kato nodded their agreement. Ohgami said, “That’s ridiculous, considering that Sano-san did a commendable job running the government in the past.” He aimed a pointed glance at Yanagisawa. “Better than some people.”

The corrupt Yanagisawa had embezzled from the treasury, had bribed and threatened officials and daimyo into swearing loyalty to him, and had usurped power from the shogun. The honest men in the regime didn’t like the return to that state of affairs. Less did they like the fact that the current strife between Sano and Yanagisawa wasn’t just another episode in a long-running feud. Yanagisawa was more dangerous than ever. Yanagisawa had demonstrated his willingness to shed blood to win power. If provoked, he could start a war that Japan couldn’t survive.

Ohgami was too afraid to speak openly against Yanagisawa. The other elders ignored Ohgami. The shogun frowned, irate because the conversation was going over his head again.

“Well, I hope you have, ahh, learned your lesson, Sano-san.” The shogun waved his hand. “You’re dismissed. Oh, and shut the door before you go. I’m cold.”

“Yes, Your Excellency.” Sano had no right to object; the shogun could treat him however he chose. A samurai must serve his lord without complaint, regardless of the lord’s behavior or character faults. That was the Way of the Warrior. But Sano’s endurance was stretched to its limits. He turned to leave before he did something he would regret.

“Wait,” Yanagisawa said, enjoying Sano’s humiliation, wanting to prolong it. He asked the assembly, “Haven’t we any other jobs for Sano-san?”

“I hear there’s been a rash of shoplifting in the Nihonbashi merchant quarter.” Yoritomo smiled spitefully at Sano. “Maybe he should investigate that.”

“That’s a good idea,” the shogun said.

Indignation rose in Sano. That he should be relegated to chasing petty thieves! “Fine,” he said. “I’ll investigate the shoplifting.” Duty was duty, and delivering petty criminals to justice was serving his personal code of honor, even though on a small scale. “Then I’ll go after the real criminals.” He cut a hostile glance at Yanagisawa and Yoritomo.