The Dragon King's Palace

by Laura Joh Rowland

  “Ahh, greetings,” Tokugawa Tsunayoshi said, his face bright with eager anticipation. He beckoned Yanagisawa, Sano, and Hoshina.

  Recovering his composure, Yanagisawa moved to kneel in his usual place, the position of honor at the shogun’s right. Sano and Hoshina knelt a short distance from the platform, opposite their lord. They all bowed to him.

  “Have you found the honorable Lady Keisho-in?” Tokugawa Tsunayoshi asked, looking around as if he expected to see her.

  An uneasy moment of silence passed; then Yanagisawa said, “I regret to say that we have not.”

  Disappointment dimmed the shogun’s expression. Yanagisawa turned to Priest Ryuko. “How pleasant to see you. What brings you here?”

  His tone made Sano envision a steel razor swathed in silk. That Yanagisawa detested the priest was no secret. Ryuko possessed an ambition for power that equaled the chamberlain’s. His longtime association with Lady Keisho-in had elevated him to the status of highest-ranking priest in Japan and indirect advisor to the shogun. His influence over Tokugawa Tsunayoshi, and thousands of clerics in temples all over the country, threatened Yanagisawa’s domination.

  “I came to give spiritual solace to His Excellency in his time of trouble,” Priest Ryuko said in a suave voice that didn’t conceal his hatred for the chamberlain, who waged a covert, ongoing campaign to expel him from the court.

  “I see.”

  Yanagisawa’s expression conveyed a skepticism that Sano shared. Priest Ryuko had obviously seized on the kidnapping as a chance to ingratiate himself with his lord, for reasons clear to everyone present except Tokugawa Tsunayoshi. The priest knew his position in court depended on Lady Keisho-in, and should she die, he would lose his power—unless he secured the shogun’s protection. Antipathy edged Sano’s own distrust of Ryuko. The man cared more about his selfish interests than about the welfare of Keisho-in, Reiko, or the other women.

  “Why haven’t you, ahh, rescued my mother?” the shogun demanded, oblivious to undercurrents in the atmosphere.

  “Please allow me to remind Your Excellency that less than a day has passed since we learned of Lady Keisho-in’s kidnapping,” Hoshina said with cautious deference. “The investigation requires time.”

  “You’ve had plenty of time. Have you done anything besides, ahh, waste it?” Inflated with dangerous petulance, the shogun leaned forward, glaring at Hoshina, Yanagisawa, and Sano. Just as Sano had feared, their lord expected instant results. “What, ahh, progress have you made toward bringing my mother home to me?”

  A hint of amusement curved Ryuko’s full lips as he observed the interchange. Hoshina scowled at the priest. Chamberlain Yanagisawa said, “A number of promising leads were pursued today. The sMsakansama will describe what he has discovered.”

  Trust Yanagisawa to make him speak first and throw him into the fire of the shogun’s wrath, as if heaving water on a burning house, Sano thought. “I interrogated two Black Lotus criminals this morning,” he said. “They told me about a priest named Profound Wisdom, who’s high among the sect’s leaders. They say the Black Lotus has been planning a major attack on the Tokugawa regime. It could be the kidnapping, and arranged by Profound Wisdom. He’s deserted his secret temple, but my men and I searched the city and arrested forty-eight Black Lotus members today. I’ll question them at Edo Jail. Someone among them should be able to tell me where the priest is.”

  The shogun nodded, pacified. Chamberlain Yanagisawa maintained a neutral composure, and Hoshina relaxed. Then Priest Ryuko said, “Have you any real cause to believe that the Black Lotus kidnapped the women?”

  “Black Lotus clergy and followers are mad enough and brazen enough to have committed the crimes,” Sano said.

  The priest gave him a sardonic smile. “But you’ve no proof that the sect is involved in the crimes.”

  “Years of detective experience tell me that it is.” Now Sano guessed what Ryuko was up to, and he grew angry at the priest’s scheming.

  “It appears that the ssakan-sama has spent the day chasing people in the absence of evidence against them,” Ryuko said, his voice inflected by an odd mixture of gloom and glee. “I begin to think he would rather persecute old enemies than find the real culprits.”

  “That’s not true,” Sano said, incensed at the unjust accusation.

  The shogun ignored his denial and beheld him with shock and outrage. “How could you betray my trust?” he demanded. “After everything I’ve, ahh, given you?”

  Before Sano could defend himself, Ryuko spoke: “The sMsakansama’s behavior is deplorable, but a more serious issue troubles me. Your Excellency, I fear that all the inquiries are headed in the wrong direction.”

  His critical gaze moved to Yanagisawa and Hoshina. Sano watched them try to hide their alarm: They, too, understood Ryuko’s motives. The priest wanted Lady Keisho-in back because she was the source of his power, and he wanted everyone to do a better job of rescuing her. But in case she didn’t come back, Ryuko must protect himself from people he feared would strike him down. Thus, he meant to undermine Sano, Yanagisawa, and Hoshina in the eyes of the shogun.

  In his years as ssakan-sama, Sano had often been the target of detractors during assemblies like this; but never had he shared the dubious honor with Yanagisawa and Hoshina.

  “Perhaps it is you, not our inquiries, that are headed the wrong way,” Yanagisawa said. He flicked a venomous glance at Ryuko but forbore to openly attack the priest.

  “We have other avenues ofinquiry besides the Black Lotus,” Hoshina said. His belligerent expression dared Ryuko to fault him. “I’ve seen Suiren, the maid who survived the massacre. That fool of a doctor prevented her from talking to me, so I’ve been questioning the palace women about her. If she was an accomplice in the kidnapping, I’ll soon find the culprits among her associates.”

  “If she was an accomplice,” Ryuko said with disdain. “You seem to have no more proof that Suiren is guilty than the ssakan-sama has evidence that the Black Lotus is.”

  “Do you have any better ideas?” Hoshina clenched his fists; his eyes blazed at Ryuko. “A gadfly only hinders men of action.”

  The priest made a moue of contempt, then addressed the shogun: “My duty is not to solve the crime but to point out to Your Excellency that the ssakan-sama and police commissioner have made serious errors of judgment.”

  Sano and Hoshina looked at each other, flabbergasted by the priest’s nerve. They burst into protest, but the shogun waved his hand, angrily silencing them. “Yes, you have, ahh, made terrible mistakes,” he said. “You are so blinded by, ahh, prejudice that you would be lucky to find a fish in a bucket!” Saliva sputtered from his mouth. He turned a beseeching look on Chamberlain Yanagisawa. “At least I can rely on you to, ahh, rescue my beloved mother?”

  “Of course, Your Excellency.” Yanagisawa kept his voice smooth, but Sano sensed his agitation. “I have identified several suspects. One of them probably masterminded the kidnapping. I expect results very soon.”

  The shogun looked perturbed by this reassuring yet vague answer. Sano had often seen Chamberlain Yanagisawa use the shogun’s fear of seeming stupid to keep him from pressing for more information than Yanagisawa wanted to give. Sano guessed that Yanagisawa’s suspects included Lord Matsudaira and other Tokugawa clan members, who might have abducted Lady Keisho-in as leverage to force the shogun to eject Yanagisawa from the regime. Clearly, Yanagisawa had no solid evidence against the shogun’s relatives and therefore hesitated to accuse them.

  A flash of comprehension in Ryuko’s eyes said he realized all this. His full lips thinned in a sly smile. “Who are these mysterious suspects?” he asked Yanagisawa.

  The words spread a malevolent net of danger. Sano’s heart skipped. Hoshina drew a sharp intake of breath. Yanagisawa stared, furious because he saw Ryuko’s trap yet was powerless to avoid it.

  “To reveal the names of the suspects now would jeopardize the investigation,” Yanagisawa said in a voice cold enough to freeze fire. �
��We must not put the kidnappers on their guard, nor panic them into harming their hostages.”

  Priest Ryuko chuckled, seeing through Yanagisawa’s evasion. “There’s little danger of that, because you obviously have no suspects at all. You can’t name them because they don’t exist.”

  He couldn’t name them—nor defend his competence—because casting aspersion upon his Tokugawa enemies would impugn his loyalty to the shogun, Sano understood. A muscle twitched in the chamberlain’s jaw, and anger roiled like lava in his dark eyes. The rare experience of watching someone outmaneuver Yanagisawa gave no pleasure to Sano, because this time they were on the same side.

  Yanagisawa said cautiously, “Your Excellency—”

  “Be quiet!” the shogun shrieked.

  Amazed silence paralyzed the assembly. Yanagisawa looked dumb-founded that the shogun would speak to him thus. Hoshina sat with his jaw dropped and his gaze disbelieving. Sano knew his own expression must appear similar. A smug smile crept over Priest Ryuko’s lips.

  “Not another word from you!” The shogun pointed at Yanagisawa; his voice and hand trembled with ire. He jabbed his finger at Sano and Hoshina. “Nor you, either. You have all, ahh, disappointed me. You do not deserve to be heard!”

  Sano, Yanagisawa, and Hoshina sat speechless, afraid to move. The shogun held the power of life and death over everyone, and years of faithful service or even sexual companionship wouldn’t excuse a retainer who angered him. He’d executed men for minor offenses, and in his current bad mood, he might condemn his chamberlain, police commissioner, and ssakan-sama for talking out of turn. Sano experienced deep distress and a terrible urge to laugh. None of Chamberlain Yanagisawa’s expertise at manipulating the shogun would do them any good if he wasn’t allowed to speak.

  The shogun turned to Priest Ryuko. “The men I counted on have let me down,” he lamented. “Will you help me?”

  Ryuko’s dignified, somber mien didn’t hide his satisfaction. “I’ll try my humble best, Your Excellency.” He slid a sly glance at Yanagisawa, whose countenance was livid with suppressed, murderous rage.

  “Then tell me how I can save my mother,” the shogun said, ready to place in Ryuko the faith he’d lost in Sano, Yanagisawa, and Hoshina.

  “With your permission, I shall divine the answer from the oracle bones,” said Priest Ryuko.

  He summoned three monks and murmured orders to them. They fetched a brazier filled with hot coals, and a black lacquer table that held incense burners, candles, sake in a cup, fruit, a bowl of cooked rice, cherry-wood sticks, and the cleaned, polished undersides of five turtle shells. The monks lit the incense and candles. One placed a turtle shell in Ryuko’s hands; the others heated sticks in the coals.

  “Oh, deities of fortune, I respectfully entreat you to tell us, where is the honorable Lady Keisho-in?” Ryuko said.

  A monk handed him a stick whose tip glowed fiery red. Priest Ryuko pressed the tip into a hollow bored on the turtle shell’s inner side. The shogun watched in avid anticipation, and Sano with the same disapproval that marked the faces of Yanagisawa and Hoshina. Although fortune-tellers had performed such rites on turtle shells or animal bones since ancient times, and oracles had revealed secret truths and governed the actions of emperors and generals, divination could be used by charlatans to trick the gullible.

  “What must His Excellency do to bring his mother safely home?” Priest Ryuko intoned.

  His assistants fanned his stick, which flamed against the turtle shell. The stench of burnt bone mingled with the sweet incense. Sharp cracking noises erupted as the heat fissured the shell. Priest Ryuko repeated the process until the sticks had burned down to stubs, smoke hazed the chamber, and all five shells bore multiple cracks.

  “What does the, ahh, oracle say?” the shogun asked eagerly.

  Priest Ryuko aligned the shells on the table. As he studied the cracks through which the gods communicated the answers to queries, his expression turned grave. “The gods decline to reveal where Lady Keisho-in is,” he said.

  Of course, Sano thought, while disappointment clouded the shogun’s face and Hoshina and Yanagisawa grimaced in disgust. Ryuko was too smart to name Keisho-in’s whereabouts and risk that events would prove him wrong.

  “They say you must earn the knowledge,” he told the shogun.

  “How? What must I do?” Tokugawa Tsunayoshi leaned toward Ryuko, hands clasped with anxious hope.

  “Your regime is out of harmony with the cosmos,” Ryuko said. “Evil influences surround you and threaten your clan’s future. You must purge your court of those evil influences. Restore its spiritual balance, and the path for Lady Keisho-in’s return shall be cleared.”

  “Ahh, that advice eases my mind.” Immediately the shogun’s relief turned to confusion. “But how can I, ahh, know who around me is evil?” he asked.

  Sano felt a pang of dismay as he guessed what Ryuko would answer.

  “I will divine names of the evil persons you must expel from the court,” Priest Ryuko said.

  He flashed a triumphant gaze at the chamberlain and police commissioner. Sano watched their horror and panic at realizing that Ryuko had gained much control over the shogun and could depose them via false oracles. But Sano burned with an outrage that exceeded his fear of losing his own post. He felt a consuming hatred for Priest Ryuko that extended to everyone else in the room. Ryuko, Yanagisawa, and Hoshina all sought to use the kidnapping to advance themselves. All they cared about was their own political careers. And all the shogun cared about was his mother. None of them spared a thought for Reiko, Midori, or the hundred people who’d died during the massacre.

  Sano’s anger swelled against the barrier of his self-control. He had to leave before he killed someone. He rose, and the other men stared, surprised that he would stand before the shogun dismissed him. Sano bowed to everyone. Then, for the first time ever, he walked from the chamber without permission from his lord. The anger roaring in his head drowned out the sound of the shogun’s voice calling to him.

  Once outside the palace, he ran through the twilight, along the walled passages. He ignored checkpoint guards who shouted at him to stop for inspection. He arrived, breathless and sweating, at his own estate. The sentries opened the gate for him, and he halted in the courtyard. He bent over, panting, as cold realization quenched his anger.

  Walking out on the shogun had only worsened the danger to Reiko. The shogun might order him off the kidnapping investigation—if Priest Ryuko hadn’t already persuaded their lord to banish or execute him. Then who would rescue his wife? Sano thought of Hirata. The chance that he and Marume and Fukida would find the women seemed poor, and Sano cursed his own rashness. The darkening heavens and the cool evening air reverberated with his fear that Reiko was lost forever and the world was crumbling around him.

  He felt a need to do something, anything, to forestall despair, and remembered that he had a jail full of Black Lotus prisoners to interrogate. As he started toward the barracks to fetch a squad of detectives, Sano fought qualms that the Black Lotus hadn’t abducted the women and he was wasting time. A new fear for Reiko took root in him.

  His wife was not inclined to sit passively enduring whatever happened to her. Sano knew Reiko would try to strike back at her kidnappers and escape. Would she succeed? Or would her daring be the death of her?

  Reiko raised her hands high and stretched them toward the rafters that crisscrossed the ceiling of the prison. Her skirts were tied around her hips, her sock-clad feet planted on Lady Yanagisawa’s shoulders. Lady Yanagisawa clutched Reiko’s ankles and staggered beneath her weight. As she swayed dangerously, Reiko flailed her arms, trying to keep her balance.

  “Be careful, Reiko-san,” Lady Keisho-in ordered. To Lady Yanagisawa she said, “Don’t drop her, you fool.”

  Midori watched, her eyes and mouth round with fright. Lady Yanagisawa steadied herself. Reiko reached up and caught hold of a rafter. A hole in the ceiling allowed her to clasp both hands around the wooden
beam. It was rough and deteriorated from exposure to the weather, and split at intervals. Reiko yanked downward on the rafter. The wood held firm.

  “Pull harder,” Keisho-in said, while Lady Yanagisawa tottered under Reiko.

  Wishing Keisho-in would be quiet, Reiko exerted her weight on the rafter. A mosquito alit on her chin; she ignored the sting. With a sudden sharp, cracking noise, the beam snapped. The break in tension canted Reiko backward. Lady Yanagisawa crumpled under Reiko like a mountain succumbing to an earthquake. She let go of Reiko’s ankles. It happened so fast that Reiko had no time to experience fear nor prevent her fall. She crashed on her spine.

  The impact jarred her bones, knocked the breath from her. Midori shrieked. Keisho-in began scolding Lady Yanagisawa, who had fallen near Reiko and now leaned anxiously over her.

  “Reiko-san, I’m sorry I couldn’t hold you up,” Lady Yanagisawa said. “Are you all right?”

  Dazed and panting, her heart thudding in delayed fright, Reiko sat up. She ached where she’d hit the floor, but nothing seemed damaged. “I’m fine,” she said. Yet perhaps she’d made a mistake by reviving Lady Yanagisawa. Had the woman deliberately let her fall? Could she trust Lady Yanagisawa to cooperate with her plan and not hurt her? How she wished the kidnappers were her only problem! But in her hands was the broken rafter—thick, heavy, and as long as her leg.

  “We have the weapon we need,” Reiko said, triumphantly holding up the rafter.

  Midori smiled. Keisho-in applauded.

  “Now we wait until the men open the door and come into the room again.” Reiko observed Lady Yanagisawa. The woman’s gaze evaded hers, causing her more distrust. “You’ll distract them, the way we discussed. Then . . .” Reiko swung the rafter at an imaginary foe. She hoped her plan would work, and that Lady Yanagisawa would control her murderous impulses for the sake of their survival. “After the men are unconscious, we all run.”