“Surrender, Marume-san,” Sano said. “It’s the law.” He hoped his words didn’t sound phony and rehearsed.
“Please don’t make me,” Marume blubbered. “I don’t want to die in disgrace!” He was a much better actor than Sano.
They argued back and forth, deliberately wasting time. Marume grew louder, wilder. More troops rushed over to watch. When they stopped coming, Sano said, “Marume-san, this is my last order to you: Give me that knife!”
Weeping dramatically, Marume handed the knife to Sano. The troops rushed Marume, grabbed him, and dragged him to the barracks.
* * *
Reiko heard Marume bellowing. She peeked through the lattice. The troops had gone to see what the commotion was. Reiko, Masahiro, and Midori tore off their outer robes and the younger children’s. They all wore white silk garments underneath. Reiko and Midori draped their heads with white shawls. Masahiro pushed the lattice panel. It popped loose. He scooted out from under the house, looked around, then beckoned. In the distance, Marume cursed. Midori handed the baby to Masahiro and crawled out next. She and Masahiro helped Reiko out.
The younger children scrambled after her. Tatsuo and Akiko suppressed giggles. This was a game to them. Taeko was as somber as Masahiro and the women. Reiko took Akiko’s hand and Taeko’s. Midori wrapped the end of her shawl around the baby and took Tatsuo’s hand. Everyone ran for the gate.
Masahiro opened it a crack. Reiko saw a flurry of white garments and heard the clap of sandals on the pavement as people going to the funeral walked past. Masahiro slipped out the gate first. Blending with the white-robed people, he ambled down the street. Reiko shooed Midori and Tatsuo out, then followed with Akiko and Taeko, closing the gate behind her. Draping her shawl over her face, she glanced anxiously backward.
Would Sano get out alive?
She swallowed her fear for him and concentrated on her surroundings. Although there were other children of Masahiro’s age in the crowd, Taeko, Tatsuo, and Akiko were the youngest. Nobody except Midori had an infant. Nobody except Reiko was pregnant. She felt dangerously conspicuous. Ahead, Masahiro loitered in the passage. Midori and Tatsuo caught up with him. Hurrying Akiko and Taeko through the crowd, Reiko joined her group.
“You go on ahead,” she whispered to Midori. “Take Akiko with you and Taeko and Tatsuo.”
“Aren’t you and Masahiro coming?” Midori said, startled.
“We’ll come later.”
“But Sano-san said we’re supposed to sneak out of town with the funeral procession and go to his mother’s house in Yamato.” That village was a few days’ journey from Edo. Heaven knew how they would manage the journey without money or help, but they must try; it was better than staying home and waiting to die. “Sano-san will meet us there. That was the plan.”
“We’re going to exonerate him,” Reiko whispered.
Midori frowned, uncomprehending. “Does he know?”
“No,” Masahiro said. “If we’d told him, he never would have agreed to it.”
Reiko hated to deceive Sano, but she had to make one last attempt to prove his innocence. Even if they all managed to escape, the murder and treason conviction would stick to them. They would always be hunted. And Sano wouldn’t be able to endure the disgrace.
“But what if you’re caught before you can get out of the castle?” Midori demanded. “That’s not what Sano-san would want!”
Reiko knew that Sano wanted most of all to save her and the children. But she and Masahiro would gladly risk themselves for a chance to save him. “This is what we’re doing.”
Panic shone in Midori’s eyes. “I can’t go by myself!”
“There’s no time to argue! Pretty soon the guards at home will notice we’re missing. Just go!” Reiko pushed her daughter at Midori.
“Mama,” Akiko protested.
“Go with Midori,” Reiko said.
“I want you to come!” Akiko sucked in her breath, opened her mouth wide.
She was about to have a tantrum. Reiko quickly put her hand over Akiko’s mouth and squeezed hard. Akiko yipped in pain.
“Be a good girl and go,” Reiko said in a firm voice. “Or you’ll get us all killed!” She dropped her hand.
Akiko stared at her, furious yet shocked silent because Reiko had never treated her so harshly. Her cheeks had red marks from Reiko’s fingers.
The stream of white-robed people going to the palace had thinned. Soon there wouldn’t be crowds to hide among. Masahiro whispered, “Mother, hurry!”
As she and Masahiro joined the march uphill, Reiko couldn’t look backward. She’d left Akiko again. Akiko wouldn’t forget this time. If Akiko escaped safely and Reiko didn’t, Akiko’s last memory of her mother would be Reiko walking away from her. Reiko blinked away tears as she trudged behind Masahiro.
They didn’t see Taeko run after them or hear Midori frantically calling her daughter.
* * *
Hirata and Deguchi stood in the hillside clearing, by a bonfire they’d built. They lifted their chins, their bodies still, all their senses alert. Hirata exerted all his mental discipline to keep calm. Tahara and Kitano would arrive soon. He mustn’t let emotions impair his judgment or his reflexes. He mustn’t lose the slightest advantage.
He looked sideways at Deguchi, whose expression was inscrutable. But Hirata knew Deguchi was feeling the same doubts about the wisdom of their plan. They stood without speaking or touching, united by their terror, chained to a course from which they couldn’t deviate.
The familiar aura pulsed distantly, ominously, in the cool morning air. “Here they come,” Hirata said.
37
At the palace, Masahiro gaped at the hundreds of white-robed mourners, the priests with their musical instruments, the troops with their lanterns and banners. “How are we going to find Lady Nobuko in all this?”
“Maybe she’s still in her quarters,” Reiko said.
She and Masahiro hurried around the palace to the separate wing of the Large Interior, where Lady Nobuko lived. They dodged patrolling troops. They didn’t knock on the door of the little house attached to the main building. They had no time for formalities, and Reiko wasn’t giving Lady Nobuko the chance to refuse to speak to her. She and Masahiro needed a confession fast. They walked right in.
The entryway and the parlor were deserted. Reiko heard a soft rustling sound. She and Masahiro followed it to an inner chamber. There Lady Nobuko lay in bed. Her gray silk night robe rustled as she tried to make herself comfortable. Reiko stalked into the room, Masahiro behind her. Lady Nobuko rolled over to face them. Her complexion was gray, without makeup, her hair straggly from tossing in bed. She was apparently too ill to attend the funeral. The spasm on the right side of her face pulled the muscles so tight that the eye was screwed shut in pain. Her left eye stared indignantly at Reiko.
“I thought you were under house arrest,” she said.
“Not at the moment,” Reiko said.
Lady Nobuko drew a breath to call for help. Reiko snatched a bamboo hair spike off the dressing table and held the sharp tip to Lady Nobuko’s withered throat. “Don’t.” Never mind that Lady Nobuko was the shogun’s wife; Reiko hadn’t the patience to be respectful.
“What do you want with me?” Lady Nobuko lay on her back, palms pressed against the bed, her good eye rolling as she tried to see Reiko and the spike at the same time.
“I want you to admit that you know my husband is innocent and my son and I didn’t conspire with him to murder Yoshisato,” Reiko said.
“I don’t know anything of the sort!”
“Yes, you do,” Masahiro said. “You’re the arsonist. You let my father be blamed.” He was shaking with fury, his fists clenched. Reiko was afraid he would hit Lady Nobuko, even though Reiko and Sano had taught him never to hit a woman. “You were going to let our family be killed for what you did!”