The Dragon King's Palace

by Laura Joh Rowland

  He steered his retinue across the exposed foundation of a demolished building, toward the palace’s interior. Suddenly he heard a raucous voice shout, “Get away from me, you filthy brutes!” Such glad relief buoyed his spirits that he laughed.

  “That’s her,” he said.

  The voice shouted more imprecations. Yanagisawa and his men followed it down a walled passage, into a courtyard enclosed by two-story buildings. In the center of the courtyard, three peasant hoodlums surrounded Lady Keisho-in. Their hands reached out to grab as they circled her. The old woman held a long sword that she’d somehow acquired. Clumsily gripping the hilt in both hands, she swung it at the hoodlums.

  “Yah!” she cried.

  The hoodlums leapt back. As the force of her swing sent Keisho-in reeling, one hoodlum charged at her. She whipped the blade around, slashed his chest, and laid him flat.

  “That will teach you to kidnap me!” She chortled in triumph.

  Her other attackers spied Yanagisawa and his men, and took off running. “Go after them,” Yanagisawa told several troops. Then he said to Keisho-in, “It’s all right, Your Highness. You’re safe now.”

  “Hah!” she cried, flailing the sword at him. “Take that!” Yanagisawa ducked just in time to avoid a cut to his head. Keishoin obviously hadn’t listened to what he said and mistook him for one of the kidnappers. Her watery eyes were crazed, her rotten teeth bared in a ferocious grin. Again she swung at him.

  “It’s Chamberlain Yanagisawa,” he said as he dodged again. “I’ve come to rescue you.”

  Or he would if she didn’t kill him first. Keisho-in spun and tripped. Yanagisawa caught her from behind, locking his arms around her waist. They reeled and tottered together in a ludicrous dance.

  “Let me go, you beast!” Keisho-in shouted.

  “Help me!” Yanagisawa commanded his men.

  Reiko, Sano, and the two detectives landed onshore and climbed out of the boat. Sano called to troops arriving in another boat and told them to look for Midori. Then Reiko showed him and Inoue and Arai the way to the Dragon King. Around them in the forest, battles broke out between the invaders and defenders. War cries and the clash of steel blades shattered the night. A coil of apprehension twisted inside Reiko, because she dreaded returning to that chamber.

  In through the palace’s main entrance they hurried. The castle seemed a desolate ruin, abandoned by the kidnappers who’d scattered to fight for their lives. While Reiko led Sano and the detectives up the stairs, she silently prayed that they would find the Dragon King lying dead where she’d left him. If he was dead, he couldn’t hurt her. Nor could he tell Sano what had happened between them.

  She and her companions reached the second floor. Incense smoke wafted from the Dragon King’s chamber. Reiko pointed at its door. “In there.”

  Sano and his men drew their swords. Detective Inoue cautiously entered first. Reiko and Sano went next. Detective Arai followed. The antechamber was vacant; battle noise drifted in from the balcony. They filed through the opening in the partition. Inside the bedchamber, the Dragon King was kneeling, fully dressed, before the funeral altar with its burning incense and candles. Dismay sickened Reiko. His head turned. His face was bruised and raw from their fight. Blood had run out of his nostrils, down his mouth. He regarded Sano and the detectives with wary unease, but as he spied Reiko, the smoldering light rekindled in his gaze.

  “Anemone,” he said.

  Sano gave Reiko a questioning look. She said, “He thinks I’m his dead mother.” She hoped she needn’t explain any more.

  The Dragon King’s dagger lay unsheathed on the altar. He picked up the weapon. Sano leapt forward, pointing the blade of his sword at the Dragon King.

  “Put it down, Dannoshin-san,” he said. “You’re under arrest.”

  The Dragon King ignored Sano; he appeared not to see the detectives surround him. He shifted himself to face Reiko. His open robes revealed his naked torso and his loincloth. “When you told me that our time together would soon end, you were right, my dearest,” he said. “The evil influences around us have besieged me. Now I must commit seppuku and avoid the disgrace of capture.”

  Reiko saw two small, shallow knife wounds on his abdomen: He’d inflicted preliminary cuts, working up the courage to kill himself. The red-tipped dagger shook in his hand. Sano and the detectives held their positions, eyeing him warily.

  “Before I die, there is something I must confess, Anemone.” The Dragon King’s voice quavered with emotion. “For twelve years I’ve kept a secret that has weighed heavily upon me. I must unburden myself to you.” His eyes begged for Reiko’s attention and sympathy.

  “You don’t have to listen,” Sano told Reiko.

  Much as Reiko would rather leave the Dragon King and never see him again, she felt obliged to let him speak. Sano needed to know what he had to say because it might bear upon his crimes. And although she feared he would mention what had transpired tonight, a samurai on the verge of ritual suicide deserved a hearing even if he was a criminal.

  “It’s all right,” Reiko said. “Let him talk.”

  Hirata, Marume, and Fukida watched in consternation while burning torches lit up the night and an army of samurai charged through the forest around them.

  “Where did they come from?” said Fukida, at the exact instant Marume said, “The island is under attack!”

  “There’s three more over there,” shouted someone among the horde. “Catch them!”

  Hirata recognized the voice. Gladness filled him, even while the attackers homed in on him. “It’s our detective corps,” he said, then called, “Wait, Kato-san! Don’t attack! It’s me—Hirata.”

  War cries gave way to happy greetings as the corps joined Hirata. “So you got here first,” Kato said. “We wondered what had become of you three.”

  “Is Sano-san here?” Hirata asked nervously.

  “Him and Chamberlain Yanagisawa, too. Where are Lady Keishoin and the other women?”

  “I don’t know. We just got into the wing of the palace where we saw them imprisoned the day before yesterday. But they aren’t there anymore.”

  Distant shouts echoed amid the thud of boat hulls against land. Kato said, “It sounds like the Tokugawa army has arrived. This siege is going to be chaos. We’ll be lucky if we don’t slaughter each other instead of the enemy.”

  Moments ago, Hirata had feared that the kidnappers had killed the women; he’d hoped they’d somehow escaped. Now he was alarmed to think of Midori wandering the island while a battle raged and troops running amok felled anyone in sight.

  “Help me find the women before they’re killed by accident,” Hirata told the detective corps. Then he turned to Fukida and Marume. “Let’s look around the palace.”

  They were foraging amid ruined structures and dense vegetation, when a plaintive wail halted them. “What was that?” Fukida said.

  “It sounded like a cat,” Marume said.

  But the noise evoked wild hopes in Hirata that his mind hardly dared articulate. “Midori!” he yelled.

  Pivoting in a circle, he scanned trees and rubble heaps. He heard an answering cry, and spotted her. She sat wedged between a broken wall and a shrub. Her arms cradled a small bundle. She leapt up from her hiding place and into Hirata’s arms.

  “You came to save me!” she cried. A torrent of weeping shook her. “I knew you would!”

  Tears stung Hirata’s own eyes. He embraced his wife, too overcome by joy to speak. Midori showed him the bundle. “This is our new daughter,” she said, then cooed to the baby, “Look, it’s your father.”

  “She knows,” Hirata said. “She called to me.”

  He beheld the solemn eyes in the baby’s wrinkled little face. Paternal love and pride warmed his heart. Then he heard a man shout, “There she is!” He saw Lord Niu, followed by a squadron of retainers, bustling toward him and Midori.

  Hirata gaped in surprise. “What are you doing here?” he asked Lord Niu.

  “R
escuing my daughter.” Lord Niu barely glanced at the baby. “You’re coming with me,” he told Midori. He seized her arm and yanked her away from Hirata.

  “No, Father!” Midori cried. Incensed by the daimyo’s proprietary attitude, Hirata held Midori’s other arm. Fukida and Marume grabbed Lord Niu and tried to break his grip on Midori. His men wrestled Hirata. As the opposing sides tugged at her, Midori screamed and the baby cried. Hirata marveled that even though his father-in-law wasn’t the kidnapper, he’d ended up battling Lord Niu anyway.

  “Let go of her, you piece of horse dung!” Lord Niu’s crooked face blazed with anger.

  “She’s my wife,” Hirata shouted. “You let go!”

  “When you fell in love with that villain Hoshina, I thought that if my father knew about your affair, he would put an end to it,” the Dragon King said to Reiko. “I thought he would use his influence to have Hoshina banished from the city.”

  The candles flickered; sweet, pungent smoke curled up from the incense sticks. Outside the chamber, the battle raged on while Sano, Reiko, and the detectives listened.

  “It was a hot summer day,” the Dragon King continued. “You were absent from home. My father was in his study. When I told him about your affair, he just thanked me, then sent me away. All that day I waited for him to act. When you came home at dusk, I watched him ask you to go boating with him. I thought he was going to confront you about Hoshina. I wanted to watch what happened. As you and my father rode to Lake Biwa in your palanquin, I followed on foot.

  “It was getting dark, and the road to the lake was crowded with traffic. Neither of you noticed me.” A bitter smile twisted the Dragon King’s mouth. “But my father never did pay me much attention. He favored his older sons. He thought I was a stupid weakling. And your thoughts were too full of Hoshina.

  “When we reached the lake, my father rowed you out on the water in his boat. I rented a boat at the pier and rowed after you. The night sky was lit up with fireworks. You and my father stopped far out on the lake where it was dark. I stopped some distance away. I could see the lantern glowing on your boat, and the two of you sitting under the canopy. There was no lantern on my boat. You didn’t know I was there.”

  “No one knew,” Sano said softly, and Reiko saw his startled frown. “The official records don’t mention a witness.”

  “Then my father told you that he’d discovered your affair,” continued the Dragon King. “You denied it. My father said he knew about your trysts. You tried to convince him that Hoshina meant nothing to you. But I knew better. So did my father.” The Dragon King’s tone scorned the lies. “Though you told him you loved him and you begged his forgiveness, he wasn’t appeased. He shouted, ‘You’ll pay for betraying me!’ And he threw you in the lake.”

  Horror glazed the Dragon King’s eyes. “I swear I never suspected that my father would hurt you, Anemone.” He extended a pleading hand toward Reiko. “Had I known, I never would have told him about your affair. You must believe me!”

  Reiko was astounded. By telling tales on his mother, the Dragon King had delivered her to her death. He was at least as responsible for Anemone’s murder as Hoshina was.

  “I watched you struggle in the water,” the Dragon King said. “I listened as you called for help. I saw my father row the boat away. I was so stunned that I couldn’t move.” He sat rigid and stared blankly, as he must have that night. “I just sat while you fought for your life. I watched my father stop his boat and begin to weep.”

  Reiko saw the scene shimmering between her and the Dragon King. Sano and the detectives beheld him as though entranced.

  “He drew his short sword,” the Dragon King said. “I realized he was going to commit seppuku. And I was the only person able to prevent him from killing himself, or you from drowning. I drew a breath to call to him. I started rowing toward you.”

  The Dragon King pantomimed his actions. “But then, I remembered how my father never spoke to me except to criticize. I remembered that you had spurned me. My love for you, and my filial piety toward my father, turned to hatred. Suddenly, death seemed like a just punishment for the way you’d treated me.” Vindictive anger blazed from the Dragon King. “So I watched my father slash his throat. I watched you disappear beneath the water.”

  His gloating satisfaction repelled Reiko. “I sat there, intoxicated by my revenge,” he said. “But the intoxication soon faded. I was filled with horror that you’d drowned while I sat idle.” The Dragon King’s expression reflected his words. “I quickly rowed toward where you’d sunk.

  “But the lantern on my father’s boat burned out. The fireworks had stopped. It was so dark that I could see nothing. I plunged my oar into the water, feeling for you. I called your name.” Tears poured from the Dragon King’s eyes, mingling with the blood on his face. “I searched until dawn. But the lake was as smooth as a mirror. You had vanished without a trace. So I rowed back to shore and went home.

  “Ever since that terrible night I’ve grieved for you, Anemone,” the Dragon King said to Reiko as he wept. “For twelve years I’ve worshiped at your funeral altar. For twelve years I schemed to avenge your death.”

  Now Reiko understood why he’d pursued Hoshina’s destruction with such excessive zeal. His father, who had killed Anemone, was beyond harm. The Dragon King had transferred his own share of the blame for Anemone’s murder to Hoshina because he couldn’t bear the burden. He’d hoped that by punishing Hoshina, he could assuage his own guilt.

  “For twelve years my secret has divided my spirit from yours.” He raised his hand, palm outward, fingers spread, as if against an invisible barrier between himself and Reiko. “It divides us still. I can’t see nor touch you without remembering what I did.”

  Reiko also finally understood the reason for his impotence with her and other women. His guilt, not his love for Anemone, had emasculated him.

  Sobs convulsed the Dragon King. “The only way for us to reunite is for me to join you in death.”

  He lifted the dagger, both hands grasping the hilt, pointing the blade at his middle. Reiko averted her face so that she wouldn’t see the blade zigzag through flesh and vital organs. Sano took her arm and backed her toward the door. The Dragon King breathed in quick, sharp gasps. A groan of frustration and rage issued from him.

  “I can’t!” he cried.

  Reiko turned and saw him grappling with the dagger. His hands shook violently. The blade’s tip impinged on his stomach. Spasms wrenched his face as he tried to muster the courage to take his own life. Yet he could no more thrust the dagger into himself than he could enter a woman.

  The Dragon King ceased struggling. He dropped his hands and the dagger onto his lap. He looked up, his features a blur of tears, defeat, and shame. His gaze lit on Sano.

  “Execute Hoshina. Grant me my vengeance,” he said quietly, then gave Reiko a tender, wistful smile. “May our spirits reunite in the real Dragon King’s underwater palace someday.”

  He bounded to his feet with a sudden, startling roar and charged across the room toward Reiko. The detectives grabbed for him, but too late. Reiko saw the Dragon King raise the dagger at her. His swift, unexpected motion froze her in terror. She saw the desperate intent in his eyes, and her death impending. But Sano moved even faster. He lashed his sword between Reiko and the Dragon King.

  The blade gashed the Dragon King deep across the abdomen. His roar became a squeal of agony. He dropped, spilling blood and viscera from the wound. The dagger fell from his hand. Reiko saw consciousness flee his eyes, and death wipe the expression off his face, even before he crumpled to the floor and lay still. Sano turned her away and enfolded her in his arms. She swooned with horror, delayed shock, and gratitude toward Sano. When her racing heartbeat slowed and her mind cleared, she comprehended what the Dragon King had done.

  “He was a coward to the end,” she said. “He had his men kidnap Lady Keisho-in and the rest of us. He wanted the shogun to kill Hoshina for him. Then he attacked me so you would kill
him, because he wasn’t brave enough to commit seppuku. He wanted to die here rather than face a trial, scandal, and public execution.”

  “He’s proved that a coward can do more harm than many a braver man,” Sano said. His voice was hard; his sword dripped blood as he surveyed the scene. “There’s no need to commiserate over his death. Let’s go. He can stay here for now.”

  Before leaving the palace, Reiko leaned over the altar and blew out the candles.

  Sano, Reiko, and Detectives Inoue and Arai exited the palace gate to find the square outside as brightly lit, crowded, and noisy as a temple precinct during a festival. Lanterns ringed the perimeter. Troops milled about or bandaged minor wounds; they swilled sake from flasks while bantering about their exploits during the raid on the island. Others guarded a few of the Dragon King’s men who’d been taken prisoner and now squirmed on the pavement with their wrists and ankles bound. In the middle of the square, Midori and Hirata sat happily fussing over their baby. Near them, Detectives Marume and Fukida lay fast asleep, while Lady Keisho-in regaled General Isogai and the army with tales of her adventures. Reiko hurried to Midori. They exclaimed in delight to find each other safe. Chamberlain Yanagisawa approached Sano.

  “Some of our men are continuing to search the island,” Yanagisawa said, “but most of the kidnappers seem to have been killed or captured. Did you find Dannoshin?”

  Sano nodded, still amazed by the Dragon King’s confession. He had thought he’d learned everything about the man’s crimes before he got here, but the murder that had inspired them had proved to have dimensions he’d never suspected. “I killed him.”

  “Then our mission was a success, and all is well,” Yanagisawa said. But Sano thought otherwise. He was troubled by questions about what had happened to Reiko during her imprisonment. He looked at Hirata, and their gazes met. The smile vanished from Hirata’s face. His expression turned defensive. Sano knew he must eventually take Hirata to task for disobeying orders. A sense of unfinished business permeated tonight’s victory.