The Dragon King's Palace

by Laura Joh Rowland

  “I don’t think I can,” Midori said in a tiny, desolate voice. She clambered to her feet and staggered a few steps. Her belly bobbed huge and low. “I can barely walk,” she said, collapsing to the floor.

  Dismay sank Reiko’s heart. “You must try.

  I’ll help you.” “I can’t walk either. My knees are too stiff,” said Keisho-in, lifting her skirt to show Reiko the swollen joints. “You’ll have to carry me.”

  Reiko looked at Lady Yanagisawa, who gazed back in consternation. The two of them couldn’t carry the shogun’s mother and help Midori at the same time.

  “Please go without me. I’ll stay behind. You must save yourselves.” Midori spoke with self-sacrificing bravado.

  “I won’t leave you here,” Reiko said, appalled at the thought. If she and Lady Yanagisawa and Keisho-in escaped, the other kidnappers would eventually discover what had happened. Reiko shuddered to imagine Midori facing their wrath alone. Yet there seemed no way she could get both Midori and Keisho-in to safety. Their infirmities would diminish the chance of a successful escape. Getting caught would endanger all their lives—but Reiko believed that doing nothing would be fatal.

  “Lady Keisho-in and Midori-san will wait here,” Reiko told Lady Yanagisawa. “I’ll stay with them and defend them, while you fetch someone to rescue us.”

  Midori smiled, tearfully grateful that she wouldn’t be abandoned. Keisho-in frowned as if unsure whether to protest. Lady Yanagisawa beheld Reiko with horror.

  “I can’t. I don’t know where to go. I’ll get lost.” Her complexion paled with the terror that choked her voice to a whisper. “To talk to strangers, and ask for their help . . .” Lady Yanagisawa shook her head. “I can’t.”

  “You have to,” Reiko said.

  “No. I can’t. Please don’t make me.” Lady Yanagisawa shivered and recoiled; her eyes closed.

  Reiko saw that what she’d asked was truly beyond the woman’s ability. “Then I’ll have to go,” she said.

  Misgivings troubled her, but she stifled them because doubt and fear would only impair her chances of saving her friends. Deepening shadow filled their prison with gloom. Reiko looked up at the patches ofsky visible through the ruined ceiling. Stars glittered in the sunset’s clear mauve afterglow. Reiko walked to a spot beside the door. She sat, holding the broken rafter in her lap, to wait until the kidnappers came.

  12

  Sano arrived home just before daybreak, exhausted and discouraged, after interrogating the forty-eight captured Black Lotus members at Edo Jail. Some had told him that the priest known as Profound Wisdom held secret rituals in temples at various locations around Edo, and Sano had sent men to search the places. But those informants apparently knew nothing about the kidnapping or massacre. The other captives were Black Lotus zealots who refused to say anything except that High Priest Anraku had risen from the dead to launch an attack ofunknown nature upon the Tokugawa. Although Sano couldn’t shake his conviction that the Black Lotus was behind the crimes, he’d realized he must explore other possibilities. He decided to catch a few hours of sleep, then plumb Edo’s underworld for tips on who had abducted the women.

  Entering the private quarters of his mansion, Sano heard childish squalls. He walked down the corridor, into the nursery, and found Masahiro sobbing in bed. The nursemaid who slept on a futon beside the boy stirred awake. As she moved toward him, she looked up at Sano in surprise, for he usually let Reiko or the maids tend Masahiro when he cried at night.

  “I’ll take care of him,” Sano told the nursemaid. He lifted Masahiro and paced the room, hugging his son’s warm, solid body, com- forting them both. “It’s all right, Masahiro-chan,” he said. “You just had a bad dream.”

  “I want Mama,” wailed Masahiro, his face hot and wet with tears against Sano’s cheek.

  “Mama is away. She’ll be back soon.” Concern for his son filled Sano. He wondered if Masahiro sensed something was wrong. Maybe he’d noticed the pall that Reiko’s kidnapping had cast over the household.

  “Excuse me, ssakan-sama,” Detective Arai said from the doorway. “A message just arrived from Chamberlain Yanagisawa. He wants to see you at his estate right away.”

  Though Sano had never expected to visit Chamberlain Yanagisawa’s estate, he and four of his detectives now stood outside the stone wall topped with metal spikes. Dawn had paled the black sky to ashen pink, but the private compound seemed to gather the vestiges of night around itself. Pine trees inside cast deep shadows over the buildings. Sano’s sharp eyes discerned soldiers in the watchtowers and archers perched on the gabled tile roofs. The compound was a fortress within the fortress of Edo Castle, designed to protect Yanagisawa from attacks by foes inside the shogun’s court.

  Guards at the ironclad gate confiscated the swords from Sano and his men, then escorted them into the estate. Sano wished they could keep their weapons. Truce or no truce, this was hostile territory. He and his detectives trod uneasily along a flagstone path, into a courtyard enclosed by soldiers’ barracks, and through grounds where more guards patrolled around the interconnected wings of the mansion. Watchdogs, led on leashes by servants, barked and growled at Sano as his escorts led him into a garden.

  Here, mossy boulders dotted an expanse of raked sand. Stone lanterns bordered a path that wound through dew-misted lawn, past gnarled shrubs to a raised pavilion with a thatched roof and lattice walls. Through its arched open doorway Sano saw the tall, slim figure of Yanagisawa. The chamberlain paced back and forth, his silk robes dragging the stone floor. Catching sight of Sano, he halted and beckoned. Sano joined Yanagisawa in the pavilion. They bowed to each other, while his detectives and the guards waited a short distance away.

  “Thank you for coming so promptly,” Yanagisawa said.

  His manner was formal and composed, yet his eyes had the intense but unfocused gaze of a man experiencing severe shock. Sano comprehended that something dire had happened.

  “Has Priest Ryuko persuaded the shogun to condemn us?” This seemed to Sano the only possible reason for Yanagisawa’s summons.

  Yanagisawa impatiently waved a hand, dispelling Sano’s notion that the chamberlain had invited him here so they could ally against Priest Ryuko and save themselves from demotion, exile, or death. “After you so abruptly left the meeting last night,” Yanagisawa said, “I managed to convince His Excellency that Priest Ryuko had been too hasty in judging us and we deserve another chance to rescue Lady Keisho-in.” He spoke as if this hardly mattered and the clash with Ryuko had lost all significance. He resumed pacing.

  “Then why did you want to see me?” Sano asked.

  With a visible effort Yanagisawa halted his restless movements, faced Sano, and said in low monotone, “The ransom letter from the kidnappers has arrived.”

  “What?” Surprise jolted Sano’s heart, which began thundering a rhythm of anticipation and alarm as he stared at Yanagisawa. “When? How?”

  The chamberlain reached inside his surcoat and brought out a large folded white paper. “A patrol guard found it an hour ago, plastered on the castle wall. He brought it to me because he’s one of my spies.”

  “Have you shown the letter to His Excellency?” Sano said.

  Yanagisawa expelled his breath in a long, quavering gust. “Not yet. No one else knows about the letter.”

  That he’d withheld important information from the shogun baffled Sano less than did the fact that Yanagisawa wanted to share the news with him first. “But why—”

  “Read it.” Yanagisawa thrust the letter into Sano’s hands. Nonplussed, Sano unfolded the paper. It bore columns of large characters written with black ink, in bold, elegant calligraphy. The message read:

  The woman thrashes wildly in dark water,

  Her long hair and robes spread,

  Like the petals of a flower cut and tossed upon the lake.

  Her cries for help pierce the night,

  But alas, to no avail,

  Cold waves engulf her beauty,

&nbs
p; Water bubbles into her lungs,

  Seaweed entwines her limbs,

  She surrenders fear and suffering,

  As she sinks into death.

  The pale wraith of her spirit departs its lifeless body,

  She drifts in enchanted slumber,

  Down unfathomable depths,

  Through watery channels,

  Into a cave far beneath the Eastern Sea.

  There she awakens in a glittering garden,

  Of sea urchins, anemones, shells, and coral.

  She floats past brilliant, swimming fish,

  Toward a palace built from luminous mother-of-pearl,

  Where the Dragon King rules his underwater realm.

  The Dragon King uncoils within his palace,

  His green scales and golden claws gleam,

  His eyes flash like crimson jewels,

  And flames breathe from his mouth.

  His undulating serpent’s body encircles her,

  While she recoils in terror.

  But the Dragon King whispers, “Fear not, my lady.”

  He heaps pearls, gems, and gold coins at her feet.

  “You shall be my queen and dwell here in my palace,

  For all eternity.”

  Your Excellency the Shogun—

  Here is what you must do if you want your honorable mother returned to you. Denounce Police Commissioner Hoshina as a murderer, then execute him and display his corpse at the foot of the Nihonbashi Bridge. Obey my orders, and I will release Lady Keisho-in and her friends. Disobey, and they will be killed.

  Sano gave minimal attention to the poem, which made no sense to him. Amazed, he reread the kidnappers’ demands and shook his head. He looked up at Chamberlain Yanagisawa, who watched him with controlled stoicism.

  “The target of the kidnapping isn’t the shogun, or you, or me,” Sano said. “It’s Hoshina-san!” They couldn’t have guessed; nothing had forewarned them. And the theories they’d devised in ignorance had misguided their investigation. “We’ve been hunting suspects in the wrong places!”

  “Indeed.” Yanagisawa turned away from Sano and gazed out of the pavilion.

  As morning encroached upon the garden, shadows lifted; the landscape and colors gained definition. Sano experienced dawning relief because he now understood the kidnappers’ motive and how to save Reiko. Then came the immediate, awful realization that the terms of the ransom put her in worse jeopardy than he’d imagined.

  “What are you going to do?” As Sano spoke, apprehension struck a new chord.

  The chamberlain moved his shoulders in a gesture that bespoke the quandary weighing upon them. However much he wanted to rescue Lady Keisho-in and win the battle for the shogun’s favor, should he allow the execution of his lover? Sano realized that Yanagisawa must care a great deal for Hoshina, or he would have already taken the letter to the shogun, and Hoshina would be on his way to his death. Still wondering why Yanagisawa had chosen to break the news about the ransom letter to him this way, Sano faced his own dilemma. He couldn’t condone a blood sacrifice in exchange for the women, but Hoshina was his enemy, and Reiko’s life was at stake.

  Sano said, “When are you going to tell Hoshina-san?”

  “Right now.” Yanagisawa called to his guards: “Fetch the police commissioner.”

  Soon Hoshina ambled up the path, clad in a beige silk dressing gown that exposed his bare chest, calves, and feet. He yawned, his eyes heavy with sleep. When he saw Sano, he stopped outside the pavilion and blinked in drowsy surprise.

  “What’s going on?” Hoshina asked, looking to Yanagisawa.

  “We’ve received the kidnappers’ ransom demand.” Yanagisawa took the letter from Sano and proffered it to Hoshina.

  “At last!” Hoshina appeared not to notice Yanagisawa’s cold manner; the news had captured all his attention. He vaulted up the steps into the pavilion and eagerly snatched the letter. Scanning the text, he frowned in bafflement at the poem. He read the ransom demand, and Sano watched his eyes widen in shock, his mouth slacken in disbelief.

  “The kidnapper wants me dead!” Hoshina burst out. “That’s the reason for the crime!” He threw down the letter and turned to Yanagisawa in alarm. “But the shogun wouldn’t kill me to get Lady Keisho-in back, would he?”

  Yanagisawa avoided his lover’s gaze. Sano knew that the shogun not only loved his mother much more than he cared about Hoshina, but would gladly slay any of his retainers for her sake. Now Sano saw the horrified realization sink into Hoshina.

  “You won’t show His Excellency the letter, will you?” Hoshina said, clutching Yanagisawa’s arms. “You won’t let him kill me to save his mother, will you?”

  The chamberlain’s hands came up to clasp Hoshina’s forearms in a gesture of restraint and affection. “I cannot intervene on your behalf.” Yanagisawa spoke with quiet regret as he looked directly at Hoshina. “Matters must take their course.”

  “What?”

  Hoshina recoiled from Yanagisawa as though the chamberlain had struck him a physical blow. Sano also experienced shock because he’d expected Yanagisawa to protect his lover.

  “You’re going to sacrifice me to save Lady Keisho-in.” Hoshina shook his head, resisting belief. He uttered a laugh tinged with hysteria. “But—but there’s no need. You can talk the shogun into sparing me. We can find some other way to rescue Lady Keisho-in.”

  His eyes beseeched Yanagisawa, but the chamberlain said in the same quiet tone, “What you ask is impossible.”

  Sano watched angry comprehension darken Hoshina’s face. “You mean you won’t defend me because you don’t want to risk displeasing the shogun,” Hoshina said.

  Yanagisawa inclined his head, silent and pensive.

  “You’d rather let me die than lose your position or your chance to rule Japan through your son when he becomes the next dictator,” Hoshina said. “After everything we’ve done together and been to each other?”

  Blazing with outrage, Hoshina paced circles around Yanagisawa. “I’ve helped you build your power. I’ve fought your enemies. I’ve given you my body and my heart.” He thumped his chest. “And now, when I need your help, you cut me loose.”

  Sano inwardly squirmed with embarrassment at witnessing a private quarrel. Yanagisawa must have known this would happen, and Sano wondered again why the chamberlain wanted him here.

  Suddenly Hoshina crumpled to his knees before Yanagisawa. “Please don’t abandon me,” he wailed, erupting into sobs. His hands scrabbled against the chamberlain’s robes. “I love you. I don’t want to die. Please, please, if you love me, don’t let the shogun execute me!”

  Sano recalled the meeting where he’d heard the news of the kidnapping, and how eagerly Hoshina had welcomed the crime as a chance to better his own position. What a contrast between that ambitious, cocky Hoshina and this groveling creature!

  Yanagisawa stood speechless, unmoved; yet Sano sensed anguish tormenting him: He did love Hoshina, though he loved power more. Sano pitied them. Then Yanagisawa stepped away from Hoshina.

  “It’s no use,” he said with firm, desolate resolve. “I can’t stand in the way of rescuing the shogun’s mother. My enemies would jump at the chance to attack me, and their combined power is stronger than mine.” Sano knew Yanagisawa referred to Lord Matsudaira, other Tokugawa clan members, and Priest Ryuko. “For me to protect you would mean certain death for us both.”

  Hoshina sprang to his feet. Panic flashed through the tears that blurred his face. He rushed toward the doorway of the pavilion, but the sight of the guards on the path froze him. Sano watched Hoshina realize that escape was impossible; he wouldn’t get out of Edo Castle alive. Sweat glistened on his skin, and he exuded the sour reek of terror. Breathing hard, crouched in a defensive posture, he glanced wildly around him. His eyes lit upon Sano; cunning inspiration focused them.

  Sano suddenly knew what Hoshina was going to say, and the reason for his presence. Enlightenment appalled him.

  “Do you remember
when you were investigating the murder of Lord Mitsuyoshi last winter?” Hoshina said. “I gave you a tip, in exchange for a favor. You promised to do whatever I asked, whenever I wanted. Well, now I’m asking you to honor our deal.” Squaring his shoulders, Hoshina lifted his chin and faced Sano with the brazen aggression of a man seizing upon his last resort. “Save my life.”

  His promise to Hoshina had menaced Sano like a poisonous snake lurking in a forest, waiting to strike him. Finally the snake had sunk its fangs. Sano had expected Hoshina to make the most extravagant request at the least convenient moment, but the nature and timing of this demand were worse than Sano could have predicted.

  “How am I supposed to save you?” Outraged and horrified, Sano flung out his hands. “Tell the shogun to let you live and his mother die?” Sano uttered a sarcastic laugh. “You’re asking me for a miracle!”

  “That’s your problem,” Hoshina retorted. “Solve it however you can. We made a bargain, and you have to uphold your end.”

  Sano looked at Yanagisawa, who regarded him with a steady, penetrating gaze that confirmed his suspicions. Yanagisawa had been aware of the bargain. He’d known Hoshina would need help now, and he’d brought Sano here because he knew Hoshina would call in the favor. Yanagisawa had contrived to manipulate Sano into saving his lover for him! Sano gave Yanagisawa a bitter, resentful glare, then turned back to Hoshina.

  “This is one time I’ll gladly break my word,” Sano said, folding his arms in defiance. “After you’ve done your best to ruin me, you don’t deserve my protection.”

  “I deserve the same good deed I did for you.” Hoshina’s perspiring face was savage with determination. “If I hadn’t given you that tip, you would be dead now. You owe me your life. And you’ll repay me by saving mine.”

  Sano made a sound of vehement denial, but he couldn’t ignore Hoshina’s logic. Sano had been a suspect in that murder case, and without the tip, he might still have cleared his name and arrested the real killer . . . or not. If he’d failed, he would have been punished by death. He could never know for sure whether he would have prevailed no matter what, or if Hoshina had prevented his downfall.