They stood dumbfounded by his unexpected arrival. Their surprised gazes shifted beyond him, to their fellow Matsumae troops stampeding up the path behind Sano. They raised their swords and prepared to fight, but Lord Matsumae staggered breathless into the village and ordered, “Stop!”
His hair was wild, his eyes burning in his haggard face, but he’d gained strength during the journey. Vengeance was at hand for him and Tekare. “Lower your weapons! Let us through!”
Shocked to see their master, they moved aside for Sano, Hirata, and the detectives, who hurried through the village with Lord Matsumae and his troops. Sano almost stumbled over the lone dead woman lying with her throat cut, in bloody slush, among the corpses.
It was Wente. Gizaemon had already eliminated his accomplice. Now Sano divined that he was after Reiko, who must have figured out he was the killer and was the only person left to bear witness against him.
Lord Matsumae gaped at Wente’s body, Tekare’s savage aspect darkened his face. He started kicking Wente and cursing her in native language: Tekare was upset because she’d been cheated out of her revenge on her sister. Sano forged onward through the crowd of natives until he glimpsed Reiko in the hands of four soldiers carrying her toward the forest. Gizaemon was with them.
“Gizaemon!” Sano called.
The man turned. Displeasure knitted his brow as he recognized Sano. When he spotted the troops accompanying Sano, shock rearranged his features. He halted; the men carrying Reiko slewed around. Her expression went from terrified to ecstatic.
Although overjoyed to see her, Sano focused his eyes on Gizaemon. “Tell your men to let her go.”
“How in hell did you get out of the castle?”
“Lord Matsumae freed us.”
As Gizaemon’s face went blank with astonished disbelief, Lord Matsumae stepped past his troops and stood beside Sano. “Yes, Uncle, it’s true.”
“Nephew.” Gizaemon swayed as if shock had punched him. “Why?”
Lord Matsumae addressed the soldiers who held Reiko: “Put her down.”
“No, don’t,” Gizaemon sharply countermanded.
The soldiers compromised by lowering Reiko to her feet but holding her arms. She fixed on Sano a look in which hope vied with fright.
“Chamberlain Sano has solved the crime.” Lord Matsumae’s voice shook with anger. “He’s fulfilled his duty to me. Setting him free was the least I could do in return.”
Gizaemon’s complexion paled to an ashy gray as understanding sank in. “What are you doing here?”
“You killed Tekare. I’ve come to make you answer to me,” Lord Matsumae said.
“Chamberlain Sano told you I killed her? That’s nonsense.” Beneath his scorn Gizaemon was clearly distraught. “He’s lying.”
“Evidence doesn’t lie. You left one of your toothpicks in the woods where you set the trap for Tekare,” Lord Matsumae said. “You ought to be more careful where you drop them.”
“I must have dropped it when we were looking for Tekare after she disappeared.” Gizaemon’s jaw shifted as he scrambled for more excuses. “Or Chamberlain Sano planted it. To make me look guilty. To turn you against me.”
“No, Uncle.” Even if Lord Matsumae hadn’t already made up his mind to believe Sano, he’d read the signs of guilt in Gizaemon’s behavior. “You turned against me.” He hurled his pointing finger at Gizaemon, then pounded his fist on his chest. “How?” he demanded in a voice ragged with injury. “How could you betray me by murdering the woman I love?”
This accusation of disloyalty, the worst charge a master could level at a samurai, appeared to shatter something inside Gizaemon. “I would never,” he whispered.
“No more lies! You’re going to tell me the truth if I have to force it out of you!”
Lord Matsumae gestured to his men. They drew their swords and advanced on his uncle. Gizaemon flung up his hands in a gesture of entreaty. “It was for your own good. To protect you from that barbarian whore who was ruining you.”
“Don’t you dare call her a whore!” Lord Matsumae said. “Me a whore,” Tekare’s voice echoed.
“You asked for the truth, now face it,” Gizaemon said in the tone he must have used to discipline his nephew as a child. “That’s what she was. She used men. She used you.”
“She loved me!”
“She blinded you with her charms.” Gizaemon spoke with bitter resentment toward Tekare, with pity for his nephew’s delusion. “She was like a lot of barbarians, hated the Japanese for the wrongs she thought we’d done to her and her people. I saw it in her eyes whenever she looked at any of us. She blamed you, the lord of Ezogashima. She made you pay every time she had another man right under your nose.”
Lord Matsumae said, “You’re wrong!” even as his expression registered dismay at what he saw in the mirror that Gizaemon had held up to his affair with Tekare.
“That love potion she gave you was poison that made you sick and weak. I know-I tested it on a dog. He had a fit, went wild, and died. Same thing would have eventually happened to you if I hadn’t taken action.”
Sano saw that Gizaemon was trying to turn Lord Matsumae’s anger at him onto Tekare. Maybe it would be a good thing if uncle and nephew made up, even it if meant Gizaemon would escape justice. Sano would excuse Gizaemon for the murder and its consequences if only Gizaemon would let Reiko go. Sano saw these thoughts occur to her and raise the hope in her eyes.
Lord Matsumae said, “I don’t care! I’d rather have died by her hand than lived all these months without Tekare!”
“You’re better off without her.”
“You had no right to make that decision!”
“It was my duty as a samurai,” Gizaemon said. “To rid my master of an evil influence even if he didn’t want to be rid of it. That’s the Way of the Warrior.”
Sano couldn’t condone the murder that had wrought its own evil influence upon Lord Matsumae, yet the warrior in him approved of Gizaemon’s action. Honor had motivated Gizaemon; he’d had his lord’s welfare at heart, even if he hadn’t foreseen the consequences.
“How was I to know that Tekare would manipulate you even after she was dead?” Gizaemon’s defensiveness crumbled into anguish. He reached his hand toward Lord Matsumae. He looked older than moments ago, as if his body had petrified around the secret he’d kept, and now that the secret was out he was mortal, decaying flesh once again. “If I’d known what would happen-”
Remorse eroded new wrinkles in the tough hide of his face. “All your life I’ve guided you, watched over you. You’re more than a son to me, you’re my life. I never wanted to hurt you. I’m sorry. If I could take back her killing, I would.”
His words melted his nephew’s antagonism. Lord Matsumae whispered, “I know, Uncle.” He staggered forward, his hand extended to grasp Gizaemon’s.
Sano was moved despite his reluctance to see a crime excused. He saw Reiko relax and felt the tension ease in the other people witnessing the scene. All was well that ended peacefully, if not satisfactorily.
Then Lord Matsumae’s body whipped like an eel hooked by a fisherman. Tekare’s features, incensed with anger, reclaimed his. “Well, I don’t,” her voice spat from his mouth. “And you can’t take back what you did to me.”
Gizaemon recoiled from her as she railed at him, “Who are you to criticize me for using Lord Matsumae? It’s you and your kind that have used my people. You’ve taken the fish we catch, the animals we hunt, and the things we make, and you’ve paid us a pittance. Your men have used me for their pleasure. And you stole my life!”
She swerved and said, “Are you going to let him get away with it, my lord?”
Uncertainty puckered Lord Matsumae’s face.
Loath to have her stir up more trouble, Sano said, “It’s over, Tekare. You’ve already punished enough people for your murder. Leave us now.”