by Shin
"On the contrary, Ogyu-san. It is your hospitality that does me the honor." Lady Niu's greeting also followed the conventional pattern. "The tea ceremony offers us a haven from worldly cares.
But havens can be temporary, or even illusory. Is this not so?" Her lips curved in a smile. The cosmetically blackened teeth, meant to enhance her beauty, made her mouth look like a fount of death.
"Uh, yes. Quite."
Her remark had no special significance, Ogyu decided as he left her at the cottage's kneeling entrance and went around to the server's door. She wasn't warning him that this peaceful moment must give way to conflict, if it hadn't already. With increasing trepidation, he passed through the kitchen and knelt in his place at the hearth.
He heard the splash of water as Lady Niu rinsed her hands and mouth at the basin outside, and a rustle of silk as she removed her shoes. Then the door slid open, and she entered on her knees. The humble posture failed to detract from her dignity, as Ogyu had hoped. Nor did her next comment relieve his nervousness.
" `Mountains and plains, all are taken by the snow-nothing remains, ' " she recited, reading the haiku on the scroll. She bowed to the alcove and took the seat of honor in front of it."Ah, such poetry refreshes me. I feel a great sense of leisure, as though I need not hurry back to the bustle of the world. " She tucked her robes comfortably around herself, as if indeed preparing to stay a good while.
The purpose of the tea ceremony was the ritual Zen purification of body and mind, in surroundings that affirmed man's oneness with nature. But Ogyu had had another aim in mind when he'd invited Lady Niu. He'd hoped that the ceremony's rigid confines would somehow defuse a volatile situation. Lady Niu, with her refined manners, wouldn't speak of unpleasant matters within the sanctuary of the tea cottage. Now he realized that she was fully capable of using the ceremony for her own purposes. She'd already managed to gain an advantage over him by letting him know his scheme had backfired. Caught in a trap of his own making, he was now unable to get rid of her without rushing the ceremony and appearing an ungracious host.
Ogyu's hands shook as he wiped the inside of the tea bowl with a napkin. "A very astute observation, my lady," he said weakly.
Please, he thought, let something happen to end this farce of a tea ceremony! Ordinarily he would have taken his time wiping the bowl, enjoying its shape and texture; now, he gave it a few hasty swabs, barely conscious of his actions. Let an earthquake bring down the roof!
The roof didn't fall. Instead Lady Niu said, "The poem reminds me of a scene from a play that featured Edo's foremost onnagata." She paused, letting him absorb her words. "The play may have also had a line about thunder and lightning. I expect you know it? If not, a certain member of your staff might."
"Onnagata": Kikunojo. "Thunder and lightning": Raiden, the wrestler. "Member of your staff": Sano Ichiro. Ogyu felt faint as he translated Lady Niu's oblique references, automatically scooping tea into the bowl. She was telling him she knew that Sano had persisted in investigating the shinju, and even the identities of those he'd interrogated.
"Yes. I mean no." Ogyu ladled water from the simmering urn onto the tea, wondering how in heaven her spies had managed to glean that information. His only hope now was to placate her- fast. "Please accept my sincerest apologies for. "
For what? She hadn't actually accused him of anything. He couldn't come right out and say, "For failing to stop Sano like you asked me to." Not with Lady Niu maintaining the pretense that this was an ordinary tea ceremony. Such a gauche and vulgar violation of tea convention would lose him whatever advantage he still had.
"For my miserable performance as a host," he finished, hoping she would understand.
Lady Niu did not acknowledge his apology. She was watching the stream of water splash into the tea bowl. "Good water is crucial to preparation of good tea," she remarked. "Do you get yours from the springs of Hakone?"
"No, no, from Mount Hiei," Ogyu stammered. Was it sheer coincidence that she should mention Sano's destination? Picking up the wooden whisk, he began to beat the tea and water into a green froth. He could feel nervous perspiration sticking his clothes to his skin. Now he wished he hadn't had the braziers lit.
"My stepdaughter Midori recently entered the nunnery at the Temple of Kannon in Hakone," Lady Niu continued. Then she shook her head, frowning. "Forgive me. Of course you-and at least one member of your staff-know this already." Pause. "Why else make such a long journey, in spite of a tragedy at Totsuka?"
Bowl and whisk fell from Ogyu's hands as he grasped Lady Niu's meaning. Foamy green tea spattered the floor. Moaning, Ogyu dabbed at it with his napkin. Midori was at the Temple of Kannon. That was why Sano had gone there: to question her. His lie made sense now, ideal as it was for disguising the real purpose of his journey. Such outrageous insubordination! Not even Tsunehiko's murder had stopped him. And how humiliating for Ogyu to learn of it this way. Why hadn't his spies found out and told him? For what did he pay them?
"I didn't know your stepdaughter had become a nun," Ogyu babbled, clutching the fallen bowl. "Forgive me, I didn't know she was in Hakone. My apologies for my clumsiness."
Somehow he managed to clean up the mess. Under Lady Niu's bland stare, he prepared a fresh bowl of tea. She was angry, although she didn't show it. A fresh wave of nausea lapped at Ogyu's stomach. She would destroy him. Clinging to the tea ceremony's false semblance of normalcy, he passed Lady Niu the tea bowl.
She turned it in her hands as she examined it in accordance with the ritual. "What a beautiful bowl," she said, stroking the rough glaze with a fingertip. "When I drink, I shall think of the potter who made it and those illustrious persons who have drunk from it before me."
Hearing her meaningless, conventional words, Ogyu went limp with relief. She'd finished what she'd come to say. She was satisfied with conveying her displeasure and wouldn't harm him.
"You are too kind, my lady," he said gratefully.
Released from fear and uncertainty, he began to enjoy the ceremony. Lady Niu drank and complimented the tea. She wiped the bowl where her lips had touched and passed it back to him, reciting a poem she had written. Ogyu drank and capped her poem with one of his own. He poured the dregs into the slop jar, and they repeated the process again, then again. Ogyu's giddy relief raised him to new heights of eloquence. His conversation had never sparkled so. Surely he'd never before hosted the ceremony with such elegance. And Lady Niu was the perfect companion: beautiful, literate, her manners unimpeachably proper. Ogyu could almost like her.
Seeing her out the gate, he gushed, "Thank you, my lady, for honoring my poor cottage with your exalted presence. It would be more than I could hope for to have you come again. How can I secure your promise? Just name your request."
"The pleasure and honor are all mine," Lady Niu answered, inclining her head. "There is one thing you can do for me. If you will permit me to speak plainly?"
A pang of fear hit Ogyu's stomach. "Of course," he said, involuntarily hunching his shoulders and trying to smile. Nausea returned as he realized that she'd merely postponed the real purpose of her visit to avoid spoiling the tea ceremony. What a fool he must have seemed to her, exuberant in his false sense of security! And now he'd played right into her hands.
Lady Niu's gaze turned cold and hard. All pretense at graciousness fell away as she said, "Sano Ichiro's inquiries have aroused the interest of the metsuke." The last word issued from her mouth like a drop of poison.
"The shogun's spies?" Ogyu blurted, aghast. The last thing he wanted was to draw attention to the workings of his department. Who knew what might come to light? "Are you sure?"
"I have it from a very reliable source," Lady Niu said. "What is more, they are entertaining the thought that my stepdaughter Yukiko and that man Noriyoshi were murdered, as your yoriki so obviously believes."
"Then it was murder," Ogyu whispered, clasping his hands to still their trembling. How awful if the shogun should think he'd tried to cover up such an important cr
ime! It would mean a reprimand at best; demotion at worst. Now he wished he had listened to Sano. But he had truly believed the deaths a shinju. Who could blame him for agreeing to spare the Nius the trouble of an inquiry? No one knew the hold Lady Niu had upon him.
Lady Niu shook her head impatiently. "Do not be ridiculous," she said. "It was suicide. The metsuke, those despicable schemers, allow themselves to be carried away by the idea of a scandal in Lord Niu's house, and all the opportunities such a scandal would create. Why, imagine the wealth that would pour into the Tokugawa coffers if they could strip my husband of his fief!" Her voice harshened with passion. "But they are about to begin their own investigation. This we must prevent."
"Prevent," Ogyu repeated, amazed that a mere woman should presume to match wits with the shogun's men. "But how?"
Lady Niu gave a flat, humorless laugh. "That is for you to decide, Magistrate Ogyu-san," she said, emphasizing his title.
"Me? Why? How?" Ogyu's queasy stomach churned at the thought of entering such a dangerous conspiracy. Imagining the ruin of his career and possibly even exile or death, he feared he would complete his disgrace by vomiting in front of her.
"Why should be obvious." Lady Niu opened the gate. "And how is for you to decide." She stepped outside. A maid came forward to help her into her waiting palanquin. Over her shoulder, she said, "Just remember the oil merchant, and I am sure you will think of something." Then she was gone.
Ogyu closed the gate and leaned against it, eyes shut, as sour waves of panic and sickness weakened him. He took deep breaths through his mouth, fighting for control of his body and emotions. Remember who you are, he told himself. You have triumphed before; you will again. He remembered his rival for the position of chief page all those years ago; he'd framed the boy for thievery and secured the job himself. During his tenure as magistrate, he'd survived periodic attempts to unseat him; he'd used his connections and influence to have his detractors transferred to posts far from Edo. Now he tried to deny that Lady Niu's was a more serious threat than any other he'd faced.
Gradually strength returned. Ogyu opened his eyes and staggered toward the door. He wondered why Lady Niu was so anxious for him to prevent the investigation and so willing to take extreme measures to see that he did. Then concern for himself overrode his curiosity. He must act now to avoid ruin. Miraculously, though, he felt less fear than he had before the meeting. The threat, its size and shape now defined, began to seem more manageable. He actually smiled as he entered his mansion. He was no fool, but a cunning and powerful magistrate. He always knew when a situation required a bold stroke instead of circumspect maneuvering. This instinctive knowledge was another of the talents that had enabled him to rise to his present position. However, as a man of refinement and fastidious tastes, he wouldn't dirty his own hands.
To the servant who met him in the entrance way, Ogyu said, "Send for Yoriki Yamaga and Hayashi at once."
He must give the orders. But others would act to prevent the metsuke investigation and to end Sano Ichiro's interference in the Nius' affairs once and for all.
Chapter 18
A sudden pounding of hoofbeats scattered the crowd in front of the noodle restaurant where Raiden sat finishing his midday meal. The sumo wrestler looked up from his bowl to see two horsemen in full battle regalia: richly decorated leather armor, metal helmets and face masks. Swords drawn, they brought their galloping mounts to a halt in front of him.
"You, there!" one of them called.
Raiden uttered a cry of dismay at the dust that the horse's hooves had thrown onto his food. He glared up at the riders. Flinging the bowl aside, he stood, arms folded, legs apart.
"You mean me?" he growled at the lead rider.
"Yes. You." The rider's mask distorted his voice but did not disguise its implicit threat. Two cold eyes returned Raiden's glare. "Are you Raiden, the wrestler?"
Raiden fell back a step. His anger subsided as the first prickings of fear started within him. He recognized the crests on the riders' armor and the winged ornaments on their helmets. These were yoriki, whose rare appearances in the streets always meant big trouble for someone.
"What if I am?" Raiden said, trying to sound brave. But his voice quavered, and his heart began to thud.
Instead of answering, both yoriki jerked their horses' reins. The horses pranced backward, clearing the street in front of Raiden. The yoriki who had spoken gave a piercing yell:
"Take him!"
At once a pack of men descended on Raiden. Two grabbed his arms and pulled him away from the restaurant. The others surrounded him, clubs raised. Beyond them, Raiden saw three doshin with jitte in hand, four other men who each carried a stout ladder, and a crowd of avid onlookers.
Raiden's confusion and panic increased. He struggled to free himself. "Hey, let me go. What are you doing? What do you want with me?"
"You're under arrest for the murders of Noriyoshi, artist, and Yukiko, daughter of Lord Niu," the lead yoriki shouted from astride his rearing horse. To the others: "Take him to jail."
"You're making a mistake," Raiden protested. "I didn't kill anyone."
But even as he spoke, he experienced an uncomfortable, familiar, and queasy sensation of doubt. The demon that lived in his mind sometimes affected his memory; people often told him he'd done things of which he had no recollection. He might have killed those people, then forgotten-he'd certainly hated Noriyoshi enough. But the thought of jail alarmed him. He must convince the police of his innocence.
"You've got the wrong man," he said.
Suddenly a blinding rage boiled up inside Raiden, just as it had at frequent, unpredictable intervals since he'd injured his head. His demon surfaced. With a roar of fury, Raiden threw his massive weight right, then left. The men holding his arms let go. He heard one of them crash into the restaurant amid the excited cries of the diners. Raiden charged at his other attackers. He swept one aside with his arm and downed another with a punch in the jaw. He plowed over the fallen men, kicking and trampling. But the doshin's men outnumbered him. Their clubs began to rain blows upon him. Still Raiden fought. Possessed by the demon, he felt no pain and cared not whether he lived or died.
Then, as suddenly as it had come, the demon departed. Fear and panic returned. "No!" Raiden screamed.
He flung his hands up to protect his face-too late. Pain flared on his cheeks and mouth. He tasted blood, spat out one of his teeth. The clubs cracked against his arms, ribs, and back. He went down, sobbing in terror now. Pinioned beneath the doshins men, he lay gasping and whimpering like a wounded animal. The shouts of the crowd rang in his ears. Someone bound his wrists. The rope cut into his flesh. Hands dragged him to his feet. The ladders interlocked around him, forming a cage. A jitte prodded his back.
"Walk," its owner shouted in his ear.
Still whimpering in pain and terror, Raiden staggered forward. He ducked his head to hide his shame. He knew what he would see if he raised his eyes.
He'd seen parades like this before. The proud mounted yoriki in the lead; the doshin marching behind them; and last, the assistants with their bound and corralled prisoner. He'd joined the crowds who flocked to see the spectacle; he'd jeered and hurled rocks at the prisoners. Now he was the victim of those taunts. The rocks were aimed at him.
"This is a mistake," he cried as a rock struck his brow. He cowered within his ladder-cage, but more rocks flew between the rungs to pound his chest and back. "I'm not a murderer." He must make everyone listen and believe, before they reached the jail. Then it would be too late. "Please, let me explain."
He lifted pleading eyes to his tormenters. His spirits sank at the sight of the angry mob. The leering faces, merciless stares, flailing arms. The mouths crying out for his blood. "Please. "
Again the jab in the back. "Shut up and keep moving!"
After a while, Raiden's awareness of the crowd, his captors, and even his predicament faded. The simple act of walking required all his thought and energy. Finally the process
ion halted, and Raiden found himself outside the gate of Edo Jail with no clear memory of the route they'd taken. Fresh terror restored his wits.
"Please, no, don't take me in there, I don't want to go," he babbled as his captors disassembled the ladder-cage. Like everyone else, he knew what went on in the jail. Once inside, he could forget about convincing the authorities of his innocence.
No one spoke to him. They dragged and pushed him down a foul-smelling corridor. He heard his own screams mingle with the inhuman howls of the other prisoners. Someone opened a door. A hard shove sent him stumbling into a dim room. He fell facedown in the corner. Rough hands bound his ankles. The door slammed.
Raiden rolled over. He was alone in a tiny cell with high, barred windows. Frantically he writhed on the floor, straining at his bonds.
"Let me out!" he shouted.
