Red Chrysanthemum

by Laura Joh Rowland

  “But you shouldn’t count on Lord Matsudaira.” Reiko said in a low, confidential tone, “His position isn’t as strong as it was. He’s alienated a lot of people, made many enemies. His need for power, and his fear of losing it, are driving him mad. His rule over the government is slipping.”

  “Those are just rumors.” Lord Mori had heard them; they were all over Edo.

  Reiko shook her head; she gave him a pitying look. “I’m afraid they’re true: Lord Matsudaira is heading for a fall.”

  Terror seized Lord Mori. If Lord Matsudaira did lose power, what would happen to him?

  “When he falls,” Reiko said, “you and his other allies will go down, too. And it won’t be long now.”

  “Merciful gods,” Lord Mori exclaimed, unable to hide his dread of another war and his clan’s destruction. “What am I to do?”

  Reiko smiled. “Fortunately, I can help you. My husband has sent me here to make you a proposition.” She beckoned Lord Mori to come closer.

  Again he thought of a snake; he could almost hear its death-rattle as it undulated toward him. But he inched nearer to Reiko, unable to resist her. She whispered, “My husband is gaining more allies and power every day. Soon he’ll be in a position to challenge Lord Matsudaira. He is mounting a secret campaign to take over the government. There will be great rewards for anyone who joins him.”

  Lord Mori recoiled in shock. “You’re asking me to betray Lord Matsudaira! And you want me to help put your husband in control of the country!”

  “It’s to your advantage as well as ours,” Reiko said.

  “It’s treason!”

  She shrugged. “Call it what you please. But my husband will go ahead with his campaign with or without you. And he’s going to succeed. If you want security and prosperity, then you should consider his proposition.”

  “I swore my eternal loyalty to Lord Matsudaira,” Lord Mori protested. “It’s a matter of honor!”

  Reiko’s smile mocked him. “There are times when you must choose between honor and survival. This is one of them. If your positions were reversed, Lord Matsudaira wouldn’t hesitate to betray you. Don’t be a fool.”

  Offended and furious, Lord Mori clambered to his feet, pointed a shaky finger at the door, and said, “Get out! Tell Chamberlain Sano that I’ll never join forces with him!”

  She rose, the mocking smile still on her face. “Oh, but you will. Because otherwise, he’ll ruin you. And don’t think that you can sit back and take the chance that Lord Matsudaira will fight a war against my husband and win. My husband will destroy all Lord Matsudaira’s allies before a war ever starts. And you’ll be the first to go.”

  Reiko moved so close to Lord Mori that he could see his frightened face reflected in her glittering eyes. “He’ll strip you of your lands, confiscate your wealth. While you and your family starve to death, your honor will be small comfort.”

  She laughed and glided toward the door. The hem of her robe slithered along the tatami. She paused and turned. “I’ll give you a few days to decide whether to join my husband or stand by Lord Matsudaira. I trust that you’ll have come to your senses by then.” She added in a warning tone, “If you tell anyone what’s been said between us, my husband will rescind his offer, and you’d best prepare yourself to come under attack.”

  For the next few days, Lord Mori vacillated. He couldn’t eat, sleep, or work, for fear that he would make the wrong decision. He’d never trusted his own judgment, and he wished someone would tell him whether Lord Matsudaira was really in danger and Lady Reiko and Chamberlain Sano could really make good on their threats. He felt utterly alone, helpless, and miserable.

  His wife and son noticed his sorry state. On the third evening after Lady Reiko’s visit, while they sat at dinner and he picked at his food, his wife said, “Something is wrong with you, Husband.” Concern lined her gentle face. “Are you ill?”

  “No.” Lord Mori spoke gruffly and wouldn’t meet her eyes.

  “Then what’s troubling you?”

  “Nothing!” he shouted, his temper cracking under the strain. “Don’t fuss over me!”

  Enju said, “Father, we’re so worried about you. We want to help. You must tell us what the problem is.”

  “I can’t,” Lord Mori said. But he’d never been able to keep secrets from these two people that he loved most in the world. He broke down and sobbed as he told them about Lady Reiko and Chamberlain Sano’s proposition.

  Their eyes glazed with horrified shock. Lord Mori felt even worse because he’d shifted his troubles to them, and what could they do? “Either I stand by Lord Matsudaira and we’re ruined, or I break my vow, ally with Chamberlain Sano, and violate my honor. Whatever I do, I’m damned.”

  “You must uphold your honor,” Lady Mori said although her voice was hushed by her fear of losing everything. “Tell Lady Reiko that you’ll not turn on your master.”

  “Yes,” Enju said bravely. “It’s your duty as a samurai.”

  Lord Mori beheld his family through the tears that blurred his eyes.

  “But Chamberlain Sano will punish you along with me. I can’t let him hurt you.”

  “It’s our duty to uphold your honor,” Lady Mori said.

  “Come what may,” Enju said.

  Their willingness to suffer for his sake moved Lord Mori to a fresh bout of weeping. They put their arms around him. The three of them embraced as they shared a vision of themselves and three centuries of Mori clan tradition crushed into dust.

  “Merciful gods save us,” Lord Mori whispered. “There must be some other way!”

  During that sleepless night, inspiration came to Lord Mori.

  He saw how to remain true to his honor and thwart Chamberlain Sano without ill consequences. Hope bloomed amid despair.

  The next evening he went to a rundown teahouse far from Edo Castle. He sat alone, clutching a cup of sake. In the dim, lamp-lit room, a few commoners drank and played cards with the proprietor; they ignored him. He peered anxiously outside at the street, visible beneath the curtains that hung across the entrance. Had anyone followed him here? Rain drizzled on the deserted neighborhood. Chamberlain Sano had spies everywhere. They could smell treachery as keenly as a dog scents blood. Lord Mori fidgeted and waited.

  A samurai rode on horseback up the street. He dismounted outside the teahouse. As he entered, he shook raindrops off his cloak and removed his wicker hat. He glanced around the room, then knelt opposite Lord Mori.

  “A fine night to be out,” he said.

  “Er, yes.” Lord Mori had made discreet inquiries through a trusted friend, who’d arranged this meeting, but his nerves tensed tighter nonetheless. He studied his companion, a fellow of indeterminate age, nondescript appearance, and weary, bland expression. In a crowd, Lord Mori wouldn’t have given him a second look. Perhaps that was an advantage for a spy in the metsuke, the government intelligence service.

  The proprietor came over to them; the spy ordered sake. They drank. The card game grew noisy as the players shouted bets and exchanged good-natured insults. The spy said, “You have something to tell me?”

  Lord Mori nodded, but hesitated. His heart raced; he trembled with apprehension. “First you must promise that no one will ever know we spoke. You must never tell anyone where you got the information that I am about to relate.”

  “Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me.” The spy smiled. “This meeting never happened.”

  Reassured, Lord Mori described Lady Reiko’s visit, proposition, and threats.

  “That’s very interesting.” The spy looked impressed in spite of himself. Lord Mori sensed excitement under his blandness. “Many thanks for coming forward.” He rose to go.

  “Wait.” Lord Mori clutched at his sleeve. “What are you going to do with my information? Will you pass it on to Lord Matsudaira?”

  “Of course,” said the spy.

  “And he’ll stop Chamberlain Sano from seizing power?” Lord Mori said eagerly.

  �
��Yes, indeed.”

  “Will he do it before Chamberlain Sano can punish me for not agreeing to help him take over the country?”

  The spy smiled. “Chamberlain Sano will be crushed like an insect before he makes a single move. Don’t worry.”

  Lord Mori rushed home to tell his wife and son what had happened. They all celebrated.

  “You’ve saved us!” Lady Mori wept for joy as she hugged him.

  “Father, you’re so clever,” Enju said with admiration.

  “Yes, I am, if I do say so myself,” Lord Mori said proudly.

  He’d never before felt such blissful relief. That night he slept well. In the morning he ate a good meal and caught up on work he’d neglected while fretting about Lady Reiko and Chamberlain Sano. He looked forward to hearing the news that Lord Matsudaira had banished or executed them.

  That night he’d retired to his private chambers, put on his dressing gown, and was ready to climb into bed, when he heard knocking at the door. He opened it and found Lady Reiko standing on the veranda.

  “What are you doing here?” Although Lord Mori wasn’t afraid of her anymore, he was surprised to see her.

  She smiled her mischievous smile. “I told you I would come back.” Rain saturated the air and dripped from the trees in the dark, sodden garden, but she looked as immaculately groomed and beautiful as ever. “And here I am.”

  “How did you get to my private chambers?” His guards shouldn’t have let her come.

  “Oh, I have ways of getting wherever I want to go,” Lady Reiko said. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

  How arrogant she was! How her husband’s power allowed her to impose on everybody! But soon she would learn her lesson. Lord Mori didn’t have to put up with her rudeness anymore. “I was just about to go to bed.” His first impulse was to throw her out of his estate, but then he thought what a pleasure it would be to watch her thinking she had him under her thumb, not knowing what lay in store for her.

  “But we can have a drink first,” Lord Mori said.

  Brimming with vindictive glee, he led Reiko to his sitting room. He bustled around, setting out cups, fetching his best sake, enjoying himself while acting nervous. Let her think him desperate to placate her. As they knelt and drank, he could hardly contain his mirth.

  “Toda Ikkyu sends you his regards,” she said.

  The name jolted Lord Mori. “Who?”

  “Your friend the metsuke spy,” Reiko said. “The one you met at the teahouse yesterday.”

  Lord Mori felt a chill creep into his bones. She knew about the meeting! He was too upset to pretend he didn’t know what she meant, to deny any contact with Toda. “What—how… ?”

  Reiko laughed. “You thought that if you reported my husband and me to Toda, he would go to Lord Matsudaira, who would protect you from us. Well, the trick is on you. Toda brought your story straight to my husband. He’s my husband’s spy, not Lord Matsudaira’s.”

  Such horror dawned on Lord Mori that the liquor he’d drunk curdled into bile in his stomach. He thought he would vomit.

  Anger, contempt, and malicious humor glinted in Reiko’s eyes. “You fool! You thought you could beat us. You should have joined us instead. But you’ve lost your chance. Now we know you can’t be trusted. Now you’ll pay.”

  Lord Mori shrank from her in terror. He looked around, expecting to see Chamberlain Sano’s troops invading his estate. He tried to call his guards, but only a squeak came from his mouth. His throat felt choked up, swollen inside. His heart pounded so hard and loud that it felt like thunder reverberating through him. He realized he was suffering from more than just fright. Struck by panic, he lurched to his feet. Dizziness sent him reeling around the room. What was happening to him?

  Reiko’s laughter echoed strangely in his ears. Her image wavered before him. “I put poison in your cup,” she said in a voice that sounded remote, distorted into an eerie drone. As he gasped and clutched his throat, she said, “But it won’t kill you. I’ll do the honors myself.”

  She rose and glided toward him. No! Leave me alone! Lord Mori tried to cry but couldn’t. He staggered backward into his bedchamber. He collapsed with a thud that shook the floor. Reiko stood over him.

  Help! His lips formed the soundless word.

  Reiko grabbed his feet and dragged him onto his bed. He tried to resist, but his limbs were paralyzed. He felt the poison spreading a noxious lethargy through him. She untied his sash and opened his robe. His mind was the only part of him that remained alert, his eyes the only part he could move. Wide with terror, they tracked Reiko as she undressed herself. She flung her garments into a corner. She stood naked except for a dagger strapped to her arm.

  “I don’t want to get blood on my clothes,” she said.

  She drew the dagger and plunged it into his abdomen. Horrendous pain stabbed him. He uttered a muffled squeal. Blood spewed from the wound, gurgled in his throat, splashed Reiko. She laughed at his suffering while she stabbed him again and again. Her beautiful, crazed face filled his vision as he swooned. She seized his genitals in her fist and lowered the blade to them.

  Wild, helpless outrage thrashed inside Lord Mori. “You won’t get away with this,” he managed to whisper.

  “Oh, yes, I will.” Her voice echoed and intertwined with the throbbing of his wounds. “I’m married to Chamberlain Sano. He’s invincible. No one can touch him. Or me.”

  The blade slashed.

  10

  A horrendous scream burst from the medium. Everyone in the shogun’s audience chamber flinched. Lady Nyogo’s childish face contorted as though from the pain Lord Mori had felt when the knife cut him. Her body jerked in convulsions; her head tossed. The exposed whites of her eyes bulged. The scream propelled saliva from her mouth. Sano started to interrupt, as he had many times during the seance, to protest the outrageous lies she’d told about Reiko and himself. But the shogun waved a hand, silencing Sano yet again.

  “Oh, spirit of Lord Mori,” the shogun said, “what happened next?”

  Lady Nyogo twitched, groaned, and choked. Police Commissioner Hoshina and Captain Torai watched her, and Sano, with undisguised glee. Hirata looked as beset by apprehension as Sano felt. Lord Matsudaira fixed an ireful, ominous gaze on them. The medium’s convulsions diminished; she sagged.

  “I felt my heart pumping the blood from me.” The deep, masculine voice was now weak, sorrowful. “I felt my life-force waning. The world dissolved into blackness before my eyes.” She breathed slow, labored sips of air. “And then I died.”

  “What did Lady Reiko do?” the shogun asked eagerly.

  “I didn’t see.” The voice faded. “My spirit drifted off into the cosmos. I can tell you no more.”

  “She’s, ahh, coming out of her trance,” the shogun said.

  Nyogo’s eyes closed; her face relaxed. She stirred, blinked, and stretched, as if awakening from a nap. Her innocent, puzzled gaze surveyed the men staring at her. “What happened?” She seemed to have forgotten. “Did I say anything?”

  “Yes, indeed,” Lord Matsudaira said grimly.

  “You did very well,” the shogun told her. “You may go now.”

  As she rose, Sano said, “Wait just a moment.” Even though the seance had been impressive, he didn’t believe that Lord Mori’s spirit had spoken through her. He wasn’t about to let her leave until he’d exposed her as a fraud.

  Nyogo hesitated; she looked to the shogun.

  Police Commissioner Hoshina said quickly, “Your Excellency, we’re finished with the girl. We need to discuss the information she’s given us. Let her go.”

  Sano doubted that Hoshina thought the medium was any more genuine than he did. But Hoshina had a vested interest in having everyone else believe her.

  “Your Excellency, that seance was a hoax,” Sano declared. “None of what Nyogo said happened. That wasn’t the spirit of Lord Mori we heard. It was her pretending to be him.”

  “No, you are mistaken,” the shogun said. “Sh
e’s a genuine medium. I have, ahh, communicated with my ancestors through her on many an occasion.” Stubbornness hardened his weak features. “I believe that what she said is the absolute truth. Shame on you for trying to discredit her.”

  Sano’s heart sank because his protest had backfired and he’d angered the shogun, which he couldn’t afford to do. Hoshina gleamed with malicious satisfaction.

  The shogun said to Lady Nyogo, “You’re dismissed.” As the door closed behind her, he announced, “Well, ahh, now we know how Lord Mori died and who killed him.”