The Shogun's Daughter: A Novel of Feudal Japan (Sano Ichiro Mysteries)

by Laura Joh Rowland

  “You should go in the house, Mother,” Masahiro said.

  “No, I’m all right.” Praying for Sano to come home, Reiko felt her terror increase with every moment that passed. She knew he hadn’t done this terrible thing, but would anyone else believe he was innocent? Had he already been put to death? Reiko tried to calm down for the baby’s sake, but her heart beat so fast that she felt dizzy and faint.

  “Your husband will get out of this,” Marume said uncertainly.

  Masahiro said, for the tenth time, “I’ll go out to the street and see if he’s coming.” He ran through the rain, splashing across puddles.

  Akiko came out onto the veranda. “Mama, what are you doing?”

  “Waiting for your father,” Reiko said.

  “Why?”

  “To greet him when he comes back.” Reiko didn’t want to upset Akiko.

  “Where is he?”

  “He’s working,” Marume said cheerfully, rumpling Akiko’s hair. “Young lady, you ask too many questions.”

  Reiko had a sudden terrible vision of Sano’s dead body being carried to the house. “Akiko, go inside.”

  “Mother!” Masahiro came running, his expression filled with anguish.

  Reiko’s breath caught; her heart seized. Five soldiers marched after Masahiro. They accompanied a man dressed in a grimy leather fire cape, whom she at first didn’t recognize as Sano. Her relief at seeing him alive immediately gave way to horror. His face was a mass of welts, darkening bruises, and blood. His eyes were swollen shut. Two soldiers held his arms while he hobbled. Akiko screamed.

  Reiko grabbed Akiko and called to Masahiro, “Take your sister to her room!”

  Masahiro dragged the screaming, crying little girl into the house. Reiko rushed to Sano, heedless of the rain that drenched her. “Merciful gods, what happened?”

  Sano turned his head toward her. He didn’t speak. The soldiers shoved him at Reiko. He stumbled. His weight unbalanced her. Marume caught her and Sano.

  One of the soldiers said, “He’s been charged with murdering Yoshisato. He’s under house arrest until his trial.”

  Most trials ended in convictions, and because the victim was the shogun’s heir, this one surely would. Reiko forbade herself to think about that. Tending to Sano was her first concern.

  “Let’s go inside,” she said in the gentle, calm voice she used when the children were sick and she was worried and trying to hide it. Sano leaned against her. She could feel his body shaking. She and Marume had to help him up the stairs; he couldn’t see.

  “Get lost,” Marume told the soldiers.

  Some accompanied Reiko, Marume, and Sano into the house. The leader said, “Guard him. Make sure he doesn’t run away. Lock up his troops. Confiscate all the weapons and money.” Troops swarmed the estate, herded Sano’s men toward the barracks.

  Marume glared at their captors as he and Reiko led Sano down the passage. Servants gaped at their injured master. Reiko called to them, “Lay out our bed. Bring hot water and clean cloths. Fetch the physician.”

  They rushed to obey. In the bedchamber, Reiko and Marume eased Sano onto the futon. She told Marume, “Go keep an eye on those soldiers.”

  Marume left. Reiko said to Sano, “Who did this to you?”

  Sano didn’t answer. He sat there, shaking violently.

  Reiko’s anxiety spiked higher. “Where else are you hurt? Take off your clothes so I can see.”

  He began to undress, but his hands shook so much that Reiko had to help him. She was glad to see only minor bruises on his shoulders and torso. The leather fire cape had protected him. But his trembling rattled the house. His breath came in gasps.

  “Is something else the matter?” Reiko’s voice quavered with fear that his injuries had affected his mind. “Can’t you speak?”

  Sano mumbled through cut, bleeding lips, “The shogun. Did this.” Tremors jolted the words out of him. “To me.”

  Reiko’s relief plunged into horror.

  A maid came to the door and said, “Excuse me, I’m sorry, the physician won’t come.”

  The news about Sano was already spreading, Reiko understood; the physician didn’t want to help an accused traitor. At least she had the experience of watching him treat Sano after other battles. She bathed the cuts on Sano’s head, applied healing balm, and fastened cotton bandages over the worst—one on his left cheek, the other on his brow. She gently pulled up his eyelids.

  “Can you see?”

  Shaking, Sano nodded.

  Reiko held up three fingers. “How many?”

  “… Three.”

  “What’s your name and rank? Who am I? Name your children?”

  Sano gave the correct answers, punctuated with tremors. His brain didn’t seem injured. Reiko asked, “Why are you shaking?”

  He didn’t answer. It must be a reaction to the trauma. Reiko made him lie down with a pillow under his neck, covered him with a quilt, and put herbal poultices over his swollen eyes. His situation was far worse than his injuries.

  The shogun, who abhorred violence, had savagely beaten Sano. He must believe Sano had murdered his heir.

  Reiko knelt beside Sano. “What happened?” She had to know everything, no matter how terrible it was.

  Sano haltingly told the story. Reiko listened, outraged by the false accusation, distraught about Sano’s predicament. The only ray of hope came from the elders’ insistence on following legal procedure before executing Sano.

  “We have a chance to save you,” Reiko said. “Let’s figure out what we’re going to do.” Sano relapsed into muteness. She seized his hand. “I know you’re hurt, but we must think of something fast! Yanagisawa will hurry up the investigation. We’ve no time to lose!”

  “I hate him.” Sano spoke with a rabid vehemence that Reiko had never heard in his voice. Now she realized why he was shaking. It was from anger and the effort to control it.

  “I know. I hate Yanagisawa, too.” All her own fury toward their enemy rose up in Reiko like a hot bile. “After all these years of attacking us, he’s finally got us where he wants us.”

  “Not Yanagisawa,” Sano said. “I hate the shogun.”

  Reiko was shocked. She stared at Sano’s bandaged, poulticed face. “How can you say that? He’s your lord.” To a samurai his lord was his god, his reason for existence.

  Sano uttered a sardonic, humorless laugh. “A fine example of a lord he is. He was only brave enough to hit me because I couldn’t hit him back.”

  For years Reiko had harbored critical thoughts about the shogun, but she’d never heard them from Sano. She was a mere woman, free to think whatever she liked as long as she kept it to herself. Sano was obligated to respect the shogun. “What about Bushido?”

  “What about it?” Sano’s tremors had ceased; he’d given up trying to control his emotions; his body relaxed. “After all my service to the shogun, after everything I’ve gone through to satisfy him, this is what it’s come to.” His hand gestured at his face. “The Way of the Warrior is just an excuse for the shogun to treat his retainers however he wants. We’re all fools for swallowing it and letting him get away with abusing us!”

  Reiko realized that the shogun’s assault had changed her husband. Sano had tolerated threats and insults before, but this injury was more personal. Loss of face was the worst thing that could happen to a proud samurai, and Sano had been literally defaced.

  “I wish I hadn’t bothered investigating Tsuruhime’s murder,” Sano said bitterly. “I didn’t manage to prove Yanagisawa is guilty, and I never will. But to hell with it!”

  The change in Sano terrified Reiko as much as the fact that he was under arrest for the murder of the shogun’s heir.

  “I wish I’d never opposed Yanagisawa’s schemes and tried to prevent the shogun from leaving the dictatorship to Yoshisato,” Sano said. “If I hadn’t, things might be different now; Yoshisato might still be alive, and I wouldn’t be charged with his murder. I’d be better off if I’d just left t
he shogun to his own weak, gullible devices!”

  Panic shot through Reiko. Where was the honorable samurai she’d married? Evidently, the shogun had pushed Sano too far. “Be quiet!”

  “Why? Because someone might hear me and report me to the shogun? Who cares?” Sano laughed again. “I’m already as good as condemned to die.”

  “We’re not giving up,” Reiko said, alarmed by his fatalism. In the past, whenever trouble had plagued them, Sano had been the one to reassure her, to keep up the family’s morale. “We’re going to fight this.”

  Sano lay there, stiff and unmoving as wood. The poultices over his eyes oozed fluid onto his cheeks. It looked as if he was crying. Reiko remembered the morning after the earthquake, when she’d first seen the wreckage of the city. She felt the same devastation now. In the past, she and Sano had always been partners, their individual strength multiplied by their togetherness. But now the husband who once would have risen valiantly to any challenge was breaking down before her very eyes. The earthquake was partly to blame. Sano had worked day and night for months, helping the survivors, rebuilding the city. He’d also solved a difficult murder case in order to prevent a civil war.

  No man could take all that strain without consequences.

  His beating from the shogun had been one too many traumas for Sano.

  Reiko had never felt so scared or alone in her life. Sano, the foundation of their family, had collapsed like the city during the earthquake.

  She heard Masahiro’s footsteps in the corridor. Gripping Sano’s hand, she whispered, “Not one word of this to Masahiro!”

  Masahiro entered the room; he looked worriedly at Sano. “Father? Are you all right?”

  Reiko pinched Sano’s hand to prevent him from speaking. “He will be. He’s resting.” With an effort, she kept her manner calm. “How is Akiko?”

  “She’s all right. I took her to the kitchen and the cooks gave her some cakes.” Masahiro asked, “What are we going to do?”

  Reiko took the heavy responsibility for the fate of their family upon her own small shoulders. “We investigate Yoshisato’s death.”

  “I see. If we find out who really killed Yoshisato, then Father won’t be punished for it.” Masahiro sounded not entirely relieved. “I can look for clues, but Father is under house arrest, and you’re not supposed to go outside.”

  The constraints on them made it even more difficult to save themselves. “Things have changed,” Reiko said. “We must exonerate your father. If we don’t, then we’ll all die, including the baby. I’ll try not to do anything physically strenuous.”

  Masahiro nodded, thought for a moment, then said, “Both of the shogun’s children have been murdered within such a short time. Could the two murders be connected?”

  “Maybe.” Proud of his intelligence, Reiko felt better. Although Sano lay as still as if he were already dead, she had Masahiro to stand in as head of the family. She also had Detective Marume. Her fear receded enough that she could apply her mind to the new investigation. “There may be different suspects, however.”

  “Who could have wanted to kill Yoshisato?” Masahiro asked.

  Combing through the tangle of politics and alliances, conflicts and motives, Reiko said, “I can think of at least two people.”

  “If the murders are connected, then maybe we can solve Yoshisato’s by solving Tsuruhime’s,” Masahiro said.

  28

  TAEKO SLID THE door of her room open and saw Masahiro hurry down the corridor. When she started following him, her mother’s voice stopped her in her tracks.

  “Taeko! Where do you think you’re going?”

  “With Masahiro,” Taeko said.

  “Oh, no, you’re not,” Midori said. “Get back in your room.”

  “But, Mama, don’t you know that Sano-san is under arrest?” Taeko couldn’t believe that her mother would continue punishing her at a time like this. “They say he killed the shogun’s son.”

  “Who are ‘they’?”

  “The maids. They were talking outside my room.”

  Midori frowned in annoyance. “I’ve told them not to gossip.” Seizing Taeko by the arm, she said, “Come with me.”

  “But Mama, they said Sano-san is going to be put to death and so is everybody else in this house. I heard Masahiro and Lady Reiko say they have to find out who really killed the shogun’s son and daughter and prove Sano-san is innocent. I have to help them!” The world was falling apart, and her mother pretended everything was normal. “Don’t you understand?”

  “You’re the one who doesn’t understand.” Midori dragged Taeko into her room. “You’re going to stay here.”

  “Please!” Taeko had to help Masahiro, and not just because she wanted him to like her. That seemed silly now. She must do whatever she could to save her family and his.

  “If you leave this house, there’s nothing you can do but drive me mad with worrying about you!”

  “But I helped them before. I found a clue!”

  “That was just a lucky accident.”

  “But, Mama—”

  Midori crouched in front of Taeko, put her hands on her shoulders. “Look at me.” Taeko gazed into her mother’s eyes, which were filled with worry, frustration, and love. “I know how bad things are. I’m not trying to ignore it. But I will not let you chase around the city and put yourself in danger.” She hugged Taeko fiercely. “I’ve lost your father. I’m not losing you!”

  * * *

  AT THE PALACE the wake for Yoshisato began. The reception chamber was crowded with government officials, court ladies, daimyo, and prominent merchants. They waited in line to offer condolences to the shogun, who sat weeping on the dais. Beside him was Yoshisato’s coffin, an oblong wooden box wrapped in white cloth, mounted on a stand. An altar in front of the coffin held lit candles, smoking incense burners, a wooden tablet with Yoshisato’s name written on it, and a painted portrait of Yoshisato. Below the dais, priests dressed in saffron robes and brocade stoles knelt, beating drums and chanting prayers.

  Yanagisawa and Lady Someko walked toward the palace. She leaned on his arm, stumbled, and sobbed. When he’d told her that Yoshisato was dead, she’d screamed and fallen on the floor. That had been more than eight hours ago. She’d been crying ever since. Yanagisawa couldn’t bear her grief on top of his own. He forced himself not to rage at her. She was Yoshisato’s mother and deserved sympathy. She also required careful handling.

  Her maids had dressed her and put on her makeup, but her hair was already messy from her clawing at it. Tears had already streaked her white face powder and red cheek rouge, which stained her dark gray kimono. As she and Yanagisawa entered the reception chamber, she sobbed louder. Everyone turned to stare.

  “Be quiet!” he whispered.

  Many people stood in a line that led to the shogun on the dais but more loitered by the walls. Yanagisawa knew they were waiting for him, to see his reaction to Yoshisato’s death. Lady Someko blubbered, heedless of their attention.

  “Pull yourself together,” Yanagisawa ordered as he led her toward the dais.

  The crowd parted to let them pass. Yanagisawa saw the coffin. His eyes burned, but the tears didn’t spill. His knees wobbled, but he marched forward. Yoritomo’s death had knocked him flat. Yanagisawa was even more devastated by Yoshisato’s, but he would not fall into a pit of mourning, not shut himself away from the world. When Yoritomo had died, he must have sensed that he could fall apart and make a comeback later. This time he knew that if he let grief carry him away, there would be no returning. This time he must stay strong enough to gain power over the regime and avenge both his dead sons.

  Lady Someko broke away from him, ran, and flung herself on the coffin, shrieking, “Yoshisato! Yoshisato!”

  The shogun gaped fearfully at her. Yanagisawa grabbed her arm. “Don’t,” he said in a low, stern voice.

  “I want to see him! You wouldn’t let me see him!”

  “I already explained to you—his body was too bad
ly burned.”

  “I have to see him!” Lady Someko tore at the coffin’s white cloth wrappings, exposing the plain wood underneath.

  “Stop that!” Yanagisawa struggled to restrain her.

  The shogun scooted away from them. Murmurs of discomfort swept through the room. Lady Someko heaved up the lid of the coffin. She exclaimed in disappointment and outrage. The coffin was empty. No one had been able to identify which of the four corpses belonged to Yoshisato. All had been so fragile that they’d crumbled when taken from the ruins; all reeked of smoke and charred meat. Yanagisawa had ordered that no remains should be inside the coffin during the wake; they would be put in before the funeral, which would take place in two days, then cremated, and all the ashes buried in the Tokugawa clan tomb.

  Lady Someko wrenched free of Yanagisawa. She clawed the bottom of the coffin, as if digging for Yoshisato.

  “Get her out of here!” the shogun ordered.

  Yanagisawa hoisted Lady Someko over his shoulder. As he carried her from the room, she screamed and pounded his back. He was panting by the time he got her outside. He carried her past the sentries at the door and down the path. Furious at her because she was making everything harder, he also felt sorry for her. He’d only known Yoshisato for five months. She’d loved him for seventeen years.

  “I can’t carry you any farther.” Yanagisawa set Lady Someko on her feet. “You’ll have to walk home.”

  She collapsed onto the grass beside the path. She cried so hard she began to choke.

  Officials strode along the path, heading for the wake or leaving it. They gawked at Lady Someko. Losing his patience, Yanagisawa said, “Get up! Do you want the whole world to see you like this?”

  “I don’t care who sees me! My baby is gone. Nothing else matters!”

  “Well, I care. For Yoshisato’s sake, show a little dignity!”

  “Don’t you criticize me, you bastard! It’s your fault he’s dead!”

  “How is it my fault?” Yanagisawa demanded.

  “If you’d left him alone, if you’d never introduced him to the shogun, he wouldn’t have been inside the heir’s residence when it caught fire. He would be alive!”