Laura Joh Rowland - Sano Ichiro 05 - Samurai's Wife

by Samurai's Wife(lit)

  She was the beloved only child of the widowed Magistrate Ueda, who'd provided her the education usually accorded a son. She'd excelled at reading, calligraphy, mathematics, history, philosophy, law, political theory, the Chinese classics, and the martial arts. As a young girl, she'd dreamed of a future filled with adventure. She'd scorned the lot of women, who existed only to wed, serve their husbands, and raise children in homebound seclusion. Fortunately, she'd avoided this fate by marrying Sano. After some initial reluctance, he'd welcomed her help with his work. But too often, she ended up waiting at home, yearning for the freedom and authority granted to men.

  Now Reiko was too restless to sit idle. She climbed out of the tub. As the maids dried her with towels, rubbed fragrant oil into her skin, and combed her hair, Reiko's thoughts moved to another matter that had occupied her mind recently.

  Tradition decreed that a wife's most important duty was to provide her husband with an heir. Despite her unconventional nature, Reiko accepted her responsibility, and she wanted children born of her love for Sano. However, almost a year had passed since their wedding. Although Sano had never broached the subject, Reiko knew he yearned for a son, and she'd begun to worry. Surely conception should have occurred by now. Was she barren?

  Then, last month, she'd missed her time of female bleeding. She hoped she was pregnant, but hadn't told Sano because she didn't want to risk disappointing him. If she missed her next bleeding, she would give him the good news.

  She was sitting in the bedchamber, wrapped in a white silk dressing gown and drying her hair in the night breeze, when Sano returned. "What happened?" she cried.

  Sano knelt beside her. As he described how Chamberlain Yanagisawa had stolen credit for capturing the Lion, and the shogun's rebuke, Reiko's heart sank. The blow to her husband's honor struck deep in her own spirit.

  "However, I have a chance to set things right," Sano continued. He explained about the death of the Imperial Court noble, then said, "The shogun is sending me to Miyako to investigate."

  Dismay stunned Reiko; she could hardly appreciate the reprieve from disaster. Miyako was so far away. They'd never been apart for more than a few days, and an extended separation seemed unbearable to contemplate. Tears stung her eyes. Still, she knew how much this investigation meant to Sano. She mustn't burden him with her unhappiness.

  Averting her face, she rose, murmuring, "I'd better pack your things."

  Sano caught her arm. "I want you to go with me."

  "What?" Surprise jolted Reiko. Wives so rarely accompanied their husbands on trips that she hadn't even considered the possibility of going to Miyako. Confused, she stared at Sano.

  He smiled and said, "Wouldn't you like to help me with the case?"

  "Yes, oh yes!" Joyfully, Reiko hugged Sano, her earlier woe forgotten. She darted around the room, unable to contain her excitement. "I've always wanted to travel. What a wonderful adventure!"

  "I still have to arrange a travel pass for you," Sano said. "That could be a problem."

  The bakufu restricted the movements of women to prevent samurai clans from relocating their families to the countryside as preparation for revolt; hence, passes were hard to obtain. But this obstacle didn't faze Reiko, and neither did her possible pregnancy. Now she was glad she hadn't told Sano about it, because the news might change his mind about taking her, although she was strong and healthy and even if she was with child, a trip shouldn't hurt. "With all your influential friends, surely you can get me a pass," she said.

  "I can't promise that there will be any work you can do on the investigation," Sano warned her. "The usual laws and customs apply in Miyako. In addition, the Imperial Court has its own special rules. You may end up with even less freedom there than here."

  "I'm sure there will be something for me to do," Reiko said blithely, opening a wardrobe and sorting out kimonos to pack. "And I'll be with you."

  "Yes."

  A grim, decisive note in his voice stilled Reiko. Realization struck her. Turning, she said, "You're taking me so that Chamberlain Yanagisawa can't hurt me while you're gone."

  "And because I want you," Sano said, rising and embracing her.

  "We'll solve the case together," Reiko said, wanting to bolster his confidence in himself and their future. "We'll be free of Yanagisawa long enough for you to restore your honor and regain the shogun's favor."

  2

  A procession crowded the final stretch of the Tokaido, the east-west highway that linked Edo with Miyako. Mounted banner bearers, wearing flags emblazoned with the Tokugawa crest, led soldiers armed with swords and spears. Behind these, Sano rode alongside the palanquin that carried Reiko. Then came the two detectives Sano had brought in lieu of Hirata, whom he'd left at home to manage his detective corps. Servants carrying baggage followed, preceding the foot soldiers of the rear guard.

  The journey had taken them through villages and woods, along the sea coast, across rivers and mountains. Now, in the late afternoon of the fifteenth day, they entered the plain where Miyako lay. Behind them rose the hills east of the city, the highest peaks lost in dense clouds. Mist hazed the forested slopes. The air, trapped by more hills to the north and west, had a moist, tropical warmth. Flies buzzed; mosquitoes swarmed. The segmented green poles and feathery foliage of bamboo border { }bordered the road. Beyond stretched lush green rice fields, reeking of night soil. Peasants drove teams of black oxen; herons waded in ditches; flocks of wild geese winged across the sky. Reiko, enclosed in the palanquin, used a silk fan to supplement the meager flow of air through the sedan chair's open windows. She was perspiring and weary, and the hardships of the journey had dimmed the glamour of her adventure.

  She now knew firsthand the difficulties experienced by women while traveling. Hot weather, crowded inns, and strange food were minor problems. To obtain Reiko's pass, Sano had spent a day bribing petty officials. However, neither the pass nor his high rank had guaranteed an easy passage through the checkpoints where the bakufu monitored activities along the Tokaido. There inspectors had interrogated Sano about his reasons for bringing his wife. Female assistants had searched Reiko's baggage and person for secret documents, smuggled weapons, or unusually large quantities of money. And highway laws prolonged the ordeal. Custom barred women from riding horses. To prevent the movement of troops and war supplies across Japan, the Tokugawa prohibited all wheeled traffic except for oxcarts owned by the bakufu. Hence, ladies traveled by palanquin-a slow, uncomfortable process. Reiko regretted the expense and delay she'd caused Sano.

  Now she spoke through the window to him: "I'm sorry to be so much trouble."

  He gazed affectionately down at her. "You're not. I'm glad you're here."

  Yet he seemed distracted. He'd slept poorly during the trip, Reiko knew, even with his men standing watch. Chamberlain Yanagisawa's assassins had gotten past guards before, and what better time to attack than when Sano was on the road, where a murder could be blamed on bandits? And before leaving Edo, Sano had identified the spy in his house, a clerk who'd confessed to telling Yanagisawa about his plan to ambush the Lion. Reiko guessed that Sano feared more sabotage in Miyako.

  Behind them, Detective Marume said, "Merciful gods, this heat is awful." Reiko liked Marume, who was powerfully built and an excellent fighter. "Oh, well, suffering is good for the spirit." Unfailing good cheer rang out in his hearty laugh. To his partner he said, "If I were as skinny as you, Fukida-san, the weather wouldn't bother me so much."

  Reiko peered out the back window at Detective Fukida, who had brooding eyes beneath a brow creased by a seriousness far beyond his twenty-five years. Son of a minor Tokugawa vassal, the young samurai had a poetic bent. He recited

  "Though the summer day burns my skin,

  I shall cool myself by evening on the Sanjo Bridge."

  His allusion to a famous landmark over the Kamo River and the nearness of their destination revived Reiko's excitement. They would reach Miyako in less than an hour; a messenger had been dispatched to announ
ce their arrival. When the investigation began, she would prove herself an asset to Sano instead of a hindrance.

  In the near distance, the road ended at the Great Rampart, an earthen wall that surrounded Miyako, rising like a gray fortress from amid tall bamboo stalks. High rooftops and the framework structures of firewatch towers reached above the top. The Great Rampart had been built one hundred years ago, Reiko recalled, by Toyotomi Hideyoshi, who had fought under General Oda Nobunaga, risen through the ranks of Oda's army, and succeeded to power after his lord's death, reigning supreme over Japan. As governor of Miyako, he'd rebuilt the war-ravaged capital into the city that existed today. Now, as the procession drew closer, Reiko saw the Rashomon Gate, main portal of the Great Rampart. Its red pillars supported gable roofs with gold dolphin finials; a flight of stone steps led into Miyako. Reiko had always wanted to see the site of so many historic events. A shiver of delight rippled through her.

  "How wonderful," she murmured.

  A quick smile from Sano told her he agreed.

  Out the gate came a squadron of soldiers escorting two mounted samurai officials, one old, one young, wearing black ceremonial robes. This welcoming party crossed the arched stone bridge that spanned a wide moat. Sano's procession met the Miyako contingent on an expanse of paved ground at the foot of the bridge, the two sides facing each other in parallel lines.

  The banner bearers introduced Sano by calling out his name and rank. Two Miyako guard captains chorused, "The Honorable Lord Matsudaira Moronobu, deputy and cousin of His Excellency the shogun!"

  The older local official exchanged bows with Sano. "Greetings," he cried. "Welcome to the imperial capital!"

  Shoshidai Matsudaira was an older version of the shogun, Reiko observed, with the same refined features and eager, subservient smile. He said to Sano, "I have heard much about you, and I regret that I've not had the honor of meeting you sooner, because I seldom leave Miyako. Why, it's been-" He turned to the official beside him. "Dear me, how long has it been since I was last in Edo?"

  "A year, my lord," said the younger man. In his early thirties, he was tall and broad-shouldered, with an angular face that tapered from a square jaw to a sharply pointed chin. A wide, full mouth and heavy eyelids gave him a sensual masculine beauty. He had the confident poise of a good sword-fighter and a competent man on his way up the bakufu hierarchy.

  The shoshidai regarded him with affection. "This is Yoriki Hoshina, senior police commander of Miyako and my chief aide."

  Reiko realized that Shoshidai Matsudaira resembled the shogun in more than just appearance: He, too, had a smarter, stronger second-in-command to think and act for him.

  "Please allow me to introduce Detectives Marume and Fukida from my staff," Sano said. The two men bowed. Sano didn't introduce the rest of his party, and while Reiko understood that he was only following custom by relegating his wife to the anonymous ranks of his entourage, she hoped this exclusion wasn't a sign of things to come.

  "Has there been any change in the status of affairs concerning Left Minister Konoe's death since your envoy delivered the news to Edo?" Sano asked the shoshidai.

  "No, I'm afraid the mystery remains."

  At least the case hadn't resolved itself already, Reiko thought gratefully.

  "Then I should appreciate Yoriki Hoshina's assistance while investigating the matter," Sano said, and Reiko knew he'd guessed which local official would be most able to provide the help he needed.

  "Of course, of course." Shoshidai Matsudaira bobbed his head, obviously glad that he wouldn't have to do anything himself. "And I shall host a banquet in your honor tomorrow night." Then, without moving, he faded into the background.

  Yoriki Hoshina said, "Ordinarily, we would house an envoy from Edo in Nijo Castle." This was the bakufu's stronghold in Miyako. "But I regret to say that the castle is undergoing major repairs at the moment. Therefore, the best accommodation we can offer is Nijo Manor, a private inn."

  "That will be fine, thank you," Sano said.

  "Would you like to settle in and rest now?" Hoshina asked.

  "I'd rather start working right away," Sano said. "Please have your troops escort my entourage to Nijo Manor, then show me the scene of Left Minister Konoe's death."

  To Reiko's dismay, Sano rode briskly through the Rashomon Gate with Hoshina, Detectives Marume and Fukida, and a few guards, while she and everyone else lagged behind. She longed to accompany Sano, but she knew that for him to include his wife in his official business or pay her any attention now would seem peculiar to their hosts and undermine his authority. Cursing her uselessness, she sat trapped in her palanquin, praying that she would be able to make use of her talents later.

  "Left Minister Konoe died in the Imperial Palace," Yoriki Hoshina told Sano as they entered Miyako. "Please come this way."

  Beyond the Rashomon Gate, another moat lined the Great Rampart, with another bridge leading into the old capital. Unlike Edo, a convoluted labyrinth, Miyako was laid out on a grid based on the ancient Chinese model of city design. A wide avenue extended as far as Sano could see. The procession moved down this, passing narrower streets set at perfect right angles, some edged by canals. Despite the buildings that occupied every plot of land, Miyako's layout gave an impression of spaciousness. This was a city of plastered wood houses, serene in its ordered uniformity. The low gray-tiled roofs peaked and fell like stylized waves. Over shop doorways hung blue curtains; bamboo blinds protected merchandise from dust, while arcades sheltered pedestrians from the weather. Rising up on north, east, and west, the hills held the city remote from the outside world, but the feature that especially reinforced the peaceful atmosphere was the dearth of samurai.

  Of all the people who crowded the streets, most were merchants, peasants, or priests. Fewer men sported the shaven crown and two swords of Sano's class. Some were bakufu soldiers; others, accompanied by laden porters, were obviously travelers. Miyako was a civilian city whose business was commerce, religion, and hospitality. Inns, restaurants, and teahouses abounded. Sano glimpsed stores selling cloth and Buddhist prayer beads. In this place where fires, earthquakes, and floods necessitated frequent rebuilding, he saw nothing ancient and no trace of past wars.

  However, his historian's eye superimposed another scene upon the tranquil cityscape. Ruined buildings hulked. Fleeing refugees carried bundles on their backs; orphan children wailed; beggars and marauding outlaws roved. Smoke rose from temples burning in the hills. Through streets lined with rotting corpses filed the ghosts of armies that had ravaged Miyako throughout history. This dark vision echoed Sano's troubled mood. Would he succeed at this investigation, or compound his disgrace with another failure? He thought of Reiko, who must surely be disappointed to miss a critical step of the case, but he couldn't afford to disrupt his concentration by worrying about her now.

  Abruptly, the party halted at a marketplace that crowded the avenue. Yoriki Hoshina said, "I apologize for the inconvenience. You've arrived on the first day of Obon."

  This was the Festival of the Dead, when people all over Japan welcomed the souls of the deceased back to the world of the living for a five-day visit. Vendors sold supplies for observing this important Buddhist holiday: incense and lotus flowers for tombs and altars, red earthenware dishes for serving the spirits of the dead during symbolic feasts, lanterns to guide the spirits home. Shoppers made way for the procession, which turned down another avenue, moving along a white plaster wall with vertical wooden beams, built on a stone foundation.

  "This is the Imperial Palace," Yoriki Hoshina said, dismounting at a gate guarded by Tokugawa sentries. "The main portal is reserved for the emperor's use. We'll enter here."

  Sano and his detectives dismounted. They and Hoshina entered a long passage inside the enclosure. From his study of palace maps, Sano guessed that the wall on his left hid the residence of abdicated emperors; only its trees and rooftops were visible. Opposite, fences bounded the estates of court nobles. A right turn led along another wall, thro
ugh another gate, and Sano found himself transported to a time eight hundred years past.

  An eerie calm lay over the Imperial Palace's famous Pond Garden. The lake spread like spilled quicksilver around islands, its surface overlaid with water lilies. Mandarin ducks roosted on a beach of black stones. Over beds of bright chrysanthemums, irises, and poppies, hummingbirds darted. Maple, cherry, and plum trees and bamboo stood resplendent in lush green leaf. The shrilling cicadas and tinkle of wind chimes, the scent of flowers and grass, the water and heat: all crystallized summer's timeless essence. In the distance, drooping willows screened villas built in ancient style-raised on low stilts, connected by covered corridors. Sano saw no one except a gardener raking leaves. From within the palace walls, the hills seemed closer, giving the illusion that the surrounding city didn't exist.

  Awed to walk this sacred ground where the descendants of the Shinto gods lived, Sano trod respectfully; his men followed suit. Yoriki Hoshina marched down the gravel paths as if he belonged there: the shoshidai's representatives had supreme authority over the palace. He led the way across a stone bridge to the pond's largest island. There, shaded by pines, stood a tiny cottage built of rough cypress planks. Bamboo mullions latticed the window.