A pack of troops chased them. Bows zinged; arrows whizzed and pelted the snow around their feet as they ran. The troops called more men to join the chase. Sano and his comrades burst into the palace’s back garden. Looking for a place to hide, Sano spotted a loose strip of lattice askew at the base of the building. He and Marume pried it back. They and their comrades crawled under the building. He pulled the lattice shut just as troops arrived.
“Did they come in here?” asked a soldier.
Lying on their stomachs on the cold, hard earth in the dim space, Sano and his comrades held their breath and didn’t move a muscle.
“I don’t see them, but we’d better check,” came the answer.
Legs stalked past the lattice. Sano willed the men to give up and go. Then a low voice said in his ear, “They’re gone now.”
Sano jerked with surprise as he found Hirata lying next to him. The Rat startled so violently that he banged his head on the underside of the building. Hirata had stolen up on them so quietly that they hadn’t heard him.
“You almost scared me to death,” Marume said.
“Not so loud!” Fukida whispered. “Someone will hear us.”
“This is excellent timing,” Sano said. “We’ve found out who killed Tekare.”
“So have I,” Hirata said. “It’s all right to talk. There’s nobody in this part of the building.”
“Good work,” Sano said. “Now we can team up to deliver Wente and Lord Matsumae to justice.”
Hirata frowned. “Wente? But she’s not the killer.”
Sano saw that their separate investigations had led them to different conclusions. “Who do you think it is?”
“It’s Gizaemon.” Hirata described how he’d searched the scene of Tekare’s murder; he showed Sano the sassafras toothpick. “This proves it.”
“But I’ve proved it was Wente.” As Sano related what the gold merchant had told him, enlightenment struck. “My version of the story and yours aren’t mutually exclusive. They’re both true.”
Hirata nodded. “Gizaemon set the spring-bow. He must have known how Tekare treated Lord Matsumae-I doubt if anything much around here ever escaped his notice. He’d have wanted to punish Tekare and get her out of Lord Matsumae’s life. But someone needed to make sure Tekare sprang the trap.”
“That was Wente’s job,” Sano realized. “She quarreled with Tekare and provoked Tekare to chase her along the path.”
Hirata marveled, “It was a Japanese-Ainu conspiracy.”
Two people from different cultures historically at odds had joined forces. Their interests had intersected in murder. And Sano saw what this meant for him.
“So now we have two people to kill besides Lord Matsumae,” Fukida said. “Which do we tackle first?”
Sano weighed Wente’s simplicity and kindness to Reiko against Gizaemon’s ruthless cunning. “I don’t think the scheme was Wente’s idea. It smells of Gizaemon. He’s the leader of their conspiracy.” He was also the force behind the war, now that Lord Matsumae was indisposed, and Sano’s greatest adversary. “I choose Gizaemon.”
“That may be a problem,” Hirata said in the tone of a chief retainer duty-bound to contradict his master’s bad decision. “Gizaemon is a tough prospect, surrounded by troops. Something might go wrong. If it does, we’ll lose our chance at Wente.”
“The woman should be easier. We should get her out of the way first,” Fukida agreed.
“All right.” Sano thought how bizarre this was, discussing which murder to commit first, as matter-of-factly as deciding which dish to order at a food stand. It occurred to him that he would probably never eat again. Even if they succeeded in killing all three targets, they wouldn’t live much longer until the troops ganged up on and slaughtered them. “Wente it is.”
“Follow me,” Hirata said.
He slithered across the ground under the palace. Sano trusted that he knew where he was going; maybe he could sense the native women’s energy. Sano and the other men crawled less gracefully after him. They’d traveled long enough for Sano’s knees and elbows to grow sore, when Hirata stopped. He pointed upward, then at the lattice at the bottom of the nearest wall. He inched over to the lattice, peered outside, then heaved his shoulder against it.
The wooden grid broke loose. Everyone emerged into the garden outside the women’s quarters. Troops called to one another, but none were in sight. Sano and his men ran up the steps, through the door, then down the corridor. Sano heard the concubines speaking in their language. Marume halted outside a sliding door, cracked it open, glanced in, and nodded to the others. They all invaded the room.
Women were kneeling grouped together, their tattooed mouths wide, staring at him and his men. Sano saw their ancient fear of his kind. The room was a shambles, with clothes and furniture flung around, ashes from the fire pit scattered on the mats, a loom broken. The women looked so much alike that Sano had to study their faces closely. He noticed fresh bruises, bleeding lips, and swollen eyes, but the person he wanted wasn’t among them.
“We want Wente,” he said. “Tell us where she is, and we’ll leave you alone.”
The oldest, a woman with a strongly beautiful face, uttered a brief phrase. The Rat translated, “‘Wente’s gone.”“
“Gone where?” Sano said, impatient.
As the woman spoke, the Rat said, “She left the castle. She took dogs, a sled, and food.” The woman pointed at Sano, and surprise altered the Rat’s expression. “She took your wife.”
“Reiko?” Sano’s impatience turned to puzzlement. “Why?”
A torrent of words issued from the woman. “She doesn’t know,” the Rat said. “None of the concubines do. But Reiko and Wente were going on a long journey. They took enough food for several days.”
Sano shook his head, trying to make sense of this. Things were changing too fast. What had diverted Reiko from her original plan and sent her off on a trip with Wente? A possible answer alarmed Sano.
“Maybe Wente pretended she’d found out that Masahiro escaped from the castle and he’s alive,” Sano said. “Reiko would have been desperate to believe in miracles and easily tricked. She would go to the ends of the earth with anyone she thought could give her back our son.”
“Anyone, including a murder suspect,” Marume said. His and the other men’s faces showed dismay as they caught Sano’s meaning.
“Reiko could have stumbled onto evidence that incriminated Wente,” Sano said. “Maybe Wente was only afraid Reiko would. But whatever the truth, Wente must have lured Reiko out to the wilderness, to silence her permanently.”
He didn’t think Wente would use outright physical violence against Reiko. That seemed not in character for Wente, considering her part in Tekare’s murder. More likely, Wente would take Reiko far enough from town that she couldn’t make her way back alone, then abandon her to die of the cold. Wente’s devious cruelty shocked Sano. The thought of Reiko, innocent and vulnerable, alone with the murderess!
The native woman shouted something at Sano, waving her hands to get his attention. It sounded like a warning. The Rat said, “She says your wife and Wente are in danger. Gizaemon knows they left. He’s gone after them.”
Misfortune piled on top of misfortune. Reiko was at the mercy of one killer and under pursuit by the other. “How did Gizaemon find out? When was this?”
As the woman spoke, the Rat anxiously translated: “Wente and Lady Reiko left about three hours-ago. Gizaemon came here just before us. He was looking for Lady Reiko.”
Sano realized what had happened while he and his men had been out solving me crime. The guards in the guest quarters had regained consciousness, had reported that the prisoners were missing. Gizaemon had launched a hunt for them and searched for Reiko in the women’s quarters.
“He asked these women if they’d seen her,” the Rat continued. “They said no. Wente had sworn them to secrecy. But he guessed that they were lying.” The woman gestured at the tumbled furniture and clothes. “He got mad and wrecked the room. Then he noticed that Wente wasn’t here. He asked where she was. He seemed even more upset about her being gone than about Lady Reiko. He beat the women until they gave up and told him Wente had taken Lady Reiko away.”