Shinju

by Laura Joh Rowland

  “This place is quieter than a grave.”

  “Well, we’ll just make a quick check, then go back out front.”

  Sano recognized the second voice. Not a stranger’s, but worse: the doshin. The thought of his horse, standing in plain sight in front of the Nius’ gate, gave him no comfort whatsoever. Trying to will away pain and fear, he prayed for his pursuers to leave.

  Then the doshin said, “There’s nobody here. Let’s go.”

  The footsteps and voices faded. Sano silently thanked the gods for incompetent police. How lucky for him that this particular doshin was as careless when chasing fugitives as when investigating arson! He let go of the eaves.

  Hard earth flew up and struck him. He flexed his knees and did a backward somersault to keep his legs from breaking. His deepest, most painful wound—the one on his left shoulder—took the full weight of his body. A scream of agony almost burst from him. He stifled it by biting the inside of his cheek so hard that he tasted blood. His eyes watered as he forced himself to stand.

  Sliding back the gate’s heavy iron beams, he opened it and brought his horse inside. He tied the horse to the gate. Then, hoping it would be there when—if—he returned, he started toward the house.

  With the problems of entering the yashiki and hiding the horse dealt with, Sano faced a whole new set of difficulties. How would he find the scroll? Was it even in the house at all? Was he correct in assuming that Lord Niu, wanting to keep the prized secret document safe and near, would have brought it back to town with him? Even if he did manage to escape with the scroll, how would he reach the higher authorities without being caught and killed? He thrust the last daunting thought aside. He would deal with each problem as it arose. First he must find Lord Niu’s quarters in the vast, unfamiliar mansion.

  He hurried across the bare expanse of what appeared to be a riding ground. Feeling conspicuous and vulnerable in spite of the darkness, he skirted a pond where the daimyo’s men practiced swimming and fighting in armor. The sudden sight of two figures looming at him out of the blackness made him skid to a stop, heart in his throat. Then he recognized them as man-shaped archery targets. He reached the buildings weak with relief, but already anticipating the dangers ahead.

  The first came when he passed the stables. Along with the stamping and snorting of the horses, he heard laughter; lamps burned in the grooms’ quarters. He also saw lights in what must be retainers’ and servants’ wings. Ducking beneath the windows, Sano stole between the buildings. He crossed a garden like the one he’d seen on his first visit to the estate, and came at last to the great sprawling bulk of the mansion.

  Its white walls shone eerily in the starlight. Above them, multiple roofs rose and fell like dark waves. Sano could see that the mansion was not one building but many, connected by low walls or covered corridors. He realized that the estate’s layout was vastly more complex than that of the Nius’ summer villa. How would he ever find Lord Niu’s quarters, let alone the scroll?

  The nearest gate led him to a narrow path that ran between the blank, solid walls of fireproof storehouses. He followed this until it dead-ended, forcing him to turn left. A wider path took him between high wooden fences with tiled rooftops rising above them, angling again and again. Sano soon lost all sense of direction. He could only hope that he was moving toward the center of the mansion reserved for the daimyo’s family. The walls muted and distorted sound. Was he getting closer to the boulevard, or farther away? Were those voices coming from outside the estate, or from someone on the path behind or ahead of him? At each subsequent corner he paused for a longer interval, listening, but not trusting his ears.

  Then a gate appeared in the fence. Standing to one side, Sano pushed on it. It swung open with a shriek that made him cringe. He peered inside to see a spacious garden surrounded on three sides by buildings with wide, covered verandas. A single lantern over each doorway threw weak light onto the pond, bushes, and pavilion. No lights burned in any of the windows, and Sano could see nothing to indicate exactly who lived in these rooms. They might belong to family members, or to high-ranking attendants. But even if Lord Niu’s chambers lay elsewhere, getting inside would give Sano access to the rest of the mansion.

  The garden’s trees and shrubs shielded him as he advanced on the nearest building. Reaching the veranda, he tried a door. Locked. He jiggled, then shoved it, knowing that locks in even expensive homes tended to be flimsy. Why waste money on locks when roving patrols usually did a much better job maintaining security? But the door held firm. His efforts to pry it open failed; the point of his short sword wouldn’t fit into the hairline crack between door and frame. He tried the other doors with no better luck, then turned to the windows.

  These were covered with thin, closely spaced wooden bars. He selected one farthest from the lighted doorways and used his sword to pry away the bars. They broke in a series of sharp snaps that he hoped anyone inside would mistake for firecrackers. He cut and tore away the paper windowpane and looked through the jagged hole.

  An empty corridor led past a series of closed doors separated by long expanses of paper-and-wood wall. Still clutching his sword, Sano climbed through the window. Stealthily he crossed the corridor and slid open a door. This led to an inner corridor, darker and also empty, with more doors opening off it. As he entered it, his elation over getting into the house faded.

  Flowery perfume scented the air. In the nearest room, he saw the dark shapes of furniture that looked to be chests and dressing tables. The faint light from the doorway lanterns reflected off a tall mirror and gleamed on the satiny folds of discarded kimonos scattered on the floor. He was in the women’s quarters. On tiptoe, he crept sideways down the corridor, his back pressed against the wall, in search of a way into the rest of the house.

  Darkness magnified sound; each faint creak of the floorboards under Sano’s feet exploded in his hypersensitive ears. Other noises—the house settling, a shout from somewhere on the estate—made him flinch.

  Then he froze. A wavery smear of light was moving toward him down the corridor. An oil lamp, carried by a girl who walked soundlessly on stockinged feet. As she drew nearer, Sano could see her face glowing above the flame. At any moment she would come upon him.

  Sano turned to retreat. Then he heard a door slide open somewhere behind him, and footsteps approaching. His mouth went dry; his stomach tensed. Lady Niu? One of the other women? Or a guard investigating the broken window? The footsteps grew louder. He could hear the girl, too, humming a breathy tune as she neared him. His escape cut off from both directions, he slid open the door of the nearest room. He would hide there until the girl and the other unseen person left, and then resume his search for Lord Niu’s quarters. To his disappointment, he found not a room but a large closet crammed full of chests and boxes, with no space left for him. He had to run—one way or the other. Rather than face an unknown and possibly greater threat, he hurtled down the corridor toward the girl.

  She gave a startled cry as he tore past her. Then she began to scream in earnest:

  “A thief! Help!”

  Sano burst through the nearest door in the outside wall. Instead of an outer corridor with access to the grounds, he saw a long, narrow passage ahead of him. The girl kept screaming. He raced down the passage. The door at the end led into an adjoining section of the house. He fled along its maze of corridors. Walls streaked past him in long expanses of wood broken only by mullioned paper windows. The interior windows were dark. Through the outside ones, he could see faint light coming from the garden, but the shadows of heavy bars striped the panes. Where was the door? Much as he hated to leave before he could find the scroll, he had to get out. Now. Before the guards came.

  He turned a corner. To his horror, the floor began to emit loud, chirpy creaks every time he stepped on it. He’d hit a nightingale walk, a specially constructed floor that compelled intruders to give audible warning of their approach. Monks, nobles, and warrior lords had made use of this alarm system throug
hout history; he should have expected the Nius to have it. He tried to run lightly, staying close to the wall. Still the nightingales sang.

  The corridor angled into another. A cold draft hit Sano. It came from an open door that led to a patch of lantern-lit garden. But as he raced toward the door, a horizontal oblong of brightness appeared ahead of him in the paper wall as someone lit a lamp in one of the rooms. A door slid open. Light spilled into the corridor. A tall figure stepped into his path.

  Sano didn’t wait for the person to speak. He pushed past it and lunged for the door. His feet hit the garden running.

  “Eii-chan!” From the corridor, a woman’s voice spoke.

  Too late Sano saw the dark shape emerge from the shadows on his right. He sidestepped, but not quickly enough. The full force of the man’s weight knocked him to the ground. The impact jarred his bones. His mask flew off his face; he dropped his sword. Pain burst in his left hip, which took the brunt of his fall. He fought and struggled, grabbing for his sword. But his assailant’s strong hands were turning him onto his stomach, pressing his face into the dirt. Heavy knees came down on the small of his back. Steel arms caught his chest and shoulders in a fierce hug. Slowly, relentlessly, they bent his back upward. Sano gave an involuntary cry as pain shot through his spine. The man was going to break it! Jaws clenched, sweat running down his face, he resisted the pressure. It continued. Back, back his spine arched. He could almost feel the snap …

  “No!” The woman’s voice rapped out the order.

  To Sano’s immense relief, his assailant let go of him. The weight lifted from his body. Weakly he flopped over onto his back—sore, but unbroken—to face his captors.

  Lady Niu stood over him. Her hair hung loose around her shoulders, and her grim face, with its layer of white makeup, looked ghostly in the flickering lantern light. The shimmering folds of her dark, sashless kimono enhanced her eerie appearance. With both hands she held a wicked-looking spear poised over his chest.

  Then she smiled, lips parting to reveal her gleaming black teeth. She withdrew the spear.

  “Bring him into the house, Eii-chan,” she said to the hulking manservant who stood beside her. “We will not kill him … yet.”

  The cruel triumph Sano saw in Lady Niu’s eyes obliterated the slight relief he’d felt at being caught by her instead of her son. Hope died within him. Then Lady Niu turned and walked away. Her dark garments rustled against the ground and trailed up the steps of the veranda after her as she entered the house.

  Eii-chan was leaning over him, reaching for him. Sano fumbled for his long sword. He dug his heels into the ground, pushing himself backward in a frantic attempt to evade the manservant. But his sword was tangled in the folds of his cloak, and the worsening pain in his wounds made his movements clumsy. Finally he kicked out at Eii-chan. His feet hit legs as solid as wood and just as unyielding. Eii-chan grabbed him and yanked him to his feet so hard that his arm nearly left its socket. A brutal shove sent him reeling toward the house. His foot struck the bottom step, and he gave a yelp of pain as he crashed against the veranda. Then Eii-chan lifted him by the collar, almost off his feet. One strong hand pinioned both of his behind his back; an arm locked across his chest. Sano struggled, then went rigid when the cold edge of a steel blade touched his neck.

  As Eii-chan propelled him up the steps and through the door, Sano tasted his own death. A wild, animal terror surged through him. He fought it by forcing himself to concentrate on the minute details of his surroundings. Wind-bells tinkling from the eaves. The corridor, no longer dark, but brightened by lamplight from the translucent windowed walls of the room where Lady Niu waited. The manservant’s musty odor, strange but oddly familiar, that provoked in him an urge to sneeze. A faint memory swam just beyond Sano’s grasp. He lost it when Eii-chan thrust him into Lady Niu’s room and pushed him onto his knees.

  He formed a quick impression of the room: spacious, with a wall of painted murals and another of built-in cabinets; several lacquer chests; a vase of flowers in the alcove. Then he focused his attention on its occupant.

  “Tie him,” Lady Niu ordered. She knelt upon a silk cushion, with more cushions supporting her back and arms. In spite of the heat that rose from the sunken braziers, she had wrapped a thick quilt around her shoulders.

  Sano hid his discomfort as Eii-chan bound his wrists and ankles, although the cords dug into his skin and almost immediately began to numb his hands and feet. He suppressed a cry of protest when the manservant took his long sword—symbol of his class and honor—and tossed it on the floor like a piece of trash. All the while he never took his eyes off Lady Niu. He saw that her face was white not with makeup, as he’d thought at first, but with the pallor of illness. Beside her was a steaming cup of liquid that smelled like the sour herb broth Sano’s father took for headaches. How unlucky for him that Lady Niu should happen to be sick at home tonight instead of out celebrating Setsubun! His senses sharpened by fear, he studied her, seeking clues that would tell him how to convince her to release him unharmed.

  Her face revealed nothing except the same impassive control she’d displayed during their first meeting. The only words he could think of sounded too much like begging, which would only humiliate him further. He tried to take courage from the fact that she’d brought him inside instead of having him killed at once. Was she open to negotiation? Or did she want to enjoy seeing him tortured?

  “Eii-chan,” Lady Niu said, lifting her chin.

  After one last tug on Sano’s bindings, the manservant stepped back. He crossed the room to stand at a point halfway between and to one side of Sano and Lady Niu. He shot Sano a brief but eloquent glance that warned of the punishment he would administer should Sano try to escape or harm his mistress. Then his face hardened to its usual stony blankness, as though he didn’t care that he’d just almost killed a man, or that he soon would. Raising one hand to his chest, he lifted a small pouch that hung on a cord around his neck and held it briefly to his nose. Then he folded his arms and looked straight ahead, immobile but with a waiting tension, ready to spring into action at any moment.

  “You interest me, Sano-san,” Lady Niu said as blandly as if this were an ordinary social occasion. She sipped her broth, then continued. “Before Eii-chan disposes of you, I would like to know why you have continued to pursue a course of action that has already cost you your position and will now cost you your life. Why do you compound your troubles by breaking into my house like a common thief? You are not, I think, an unintelligent man. Please explain yourself.”

  Although the amount of time remaining to him might depend upon his answer, Sano resisted revealing his inner self to her. He didn’t want to try to articulate the insatiable desire for the truth that he barely understood himself. Anger burned in him as he realized that she was toying with him. But he would have to play along with her and hope she gave him an opening that would allow him to bargain.

  “I came here tonight to collect evidence that proves your son guilty of at least one of the crimes that I know he has committed,” he said, ignoring her first question and keeping his voice even.

  “Oh?” Lady Niu’s eyebrows rose in polite surprise. “And what crimes are those?”

  How much did she know? Could he throw her off guard by giving her unwelcome news about young Lord Niu?

  “The murders of his sister Yukiko and the artist Noriyoshi. The murder of my secretary, Hamada Tsunehiko, whom he mistook for me. The murder of a certain samurai boy, and of your maid O-hisa. And …”

  He stopped when he saw Lady Niu regarding him with a complacent smile on her unpainted lips. Her relaxed posture reflected a total lack of concern. She didn’t seem the least bit shocked, or even dismayed.

  “You know all this already,” he said, unable to keep the amazement out of his voice. “You know what your son has done, and you don’t care.”

  Lady Niu’s smile deepened as she shook her head. “Really, Sano-san, I am disappointed in you. Perhaps I have overestimated y
our intelligence.”

  Then Sano experienced one of those great intuitive leaps that come so seldom and never fail to stun. His mind reeled with shock as minor facts that he’d overlooked came together to form a pattern entirely different from the one he’d assembled using only the major facts.

  Lord Niu, although as strong as rigorous training and self-discipline could make him, nevertheless had a physical handicap. He could—and did—kill, but could he have disposed of Yukiko’s and Noriyoshi’s dead bodies alone? His men had helped him get rid of the boy he’d decapitated in a fit of anger, but would he have trusted them to assist in a double premeditated murder—especially when one of the victims was their lord’s own daughter? Sano thought not.

  Midori’s stepmother, not her stepbrother, had sent her to Hakone. And Lady Niu had been the one to complain to Magistrate Ogyu about Sano. Then there was the manservant’s strange odor. It came from the pouch that Eii-chan wore, which probably held medicinal herbs. Sano now recognized the smell from his room in Totsuka the night of Tsunehiko’s murder. He noticed the unhealed scratches on Eii-chan’s hands—inflicted by O-hisa and the nightwatchman he’d strangled. Sano had believed that Lord Niu had committed the murders to protect himself. Now he realized that Lady Niu had ordered Eii-chan to kill Yukiko, Noriyoshi, and O-hisa. She had sent the manservant to kill him on the Tōkaido, then had him dismissed and framed for murder. All to protect Lord Niu. He’d assigned the right motive to the wrong person. Shaking his head in wonder, Sano beheld the miracle of finally arriving at the truth he’d sought, and finding it so different from what he’d expected.

  “I can see that you have guessed the truth.” Lady Niu laughed, a silvery trill that echoed in the hushed room. “Although unfortunately too late to do you any good.”

  Sano knew he must keep her talking, if only to postpone the inevitable. “You sent Yukiko to the villa in Ueno,” he said. “You lured Noriyoshi there by promising him enough money to open his own shop. While you were enjoying music at Lord Kuroda’s house, Eii-chan killed them and threw them in the river.”