“Yes,” Sano said.
His word overruled Reiko’s. As Masahiro ran off, Reiko told Lieutenant Asukai, “Go with him. Don’t let him out of your sight.”
When she and Sano were alone with his mother, Sano said, “Why are you keeping Masahiro on such a tight rein?”
Now was the time for Reiko to tell Sano what she’d heard. “He’s in danger.”
“That’s nothing new. I seem to remember that Lord Matsudaira did have him kidnapped.”
“But Lord Matsudaira doesn’t just want to kidnap Masahiro,” Reiko said. “He wants to kill him, and you and me and Akiko.”
“Well, I wouldn’t be surprised,” Sano said. “As far as he’s concerned, we’re all fair game, and with what happened to him today, he must really want our blood.” Sano’s gaze wandered, and Reiko could tell he was thinking of the other problems he needed to solve. “But don’t you think the children are as safe as possible? Why start being extra vigilant?”
“Because Lord Matsudaira has nine assassins planted among your men. They’re under orders to kill us all!”
Sano refocused his gaze sharply on her. “How do you know?”
“Lieutenant Asukai has a friend among Lord Matsudaira’s bodyguards, who overheard Lord Matsudaira talking about his plans.”
Shock opened Sano’s mouth. Then he blew out his breath. “Well, thank the gods for friends in the right places. And thank Lieutenant Asukai for this valuable bit of intelligence.” Then he shook his head, and Reiko saw anguish in his eyes. “So the enemy has spread farther into our midst. Nine more of my men are traitors and assassins.”
Reiko hated to be the messenger of such upsetting news, but at least she’d made Sano aware of the threat. “Now you understand why Masahiro and Akiko are in danger at home. What are we going to do?”
“I’ll find out who those nine traitors are,” Sano said, harsh with determination. “In the meantime, I’ll have Detectives Marume and Fukida guard the children.”
“How do you know you can trust them?”
“How do you know you can trust Lieutenant Asukai?” Sano countered.
“He’s been my bodyguard for years,” Reiko said. “I have no doubt of his loyalty.”
“Marume and Fukida have served me for years,” Sano said. “I’ve never doubted their loyalty, either.”
He and Reiko gazed at each other in dismay that they dared not trust anyone in their household. Sano’s vast army offered no security; it harbored nine assassins, hiding like snakes in a forest. The walls that repelled attacks from outside couldn’t protect Sano and his family from treachery within. Until the traitors were caught, none of them was safe.
“I can’t stay home and watch over the children. I still have to clear my mother’s name, not to mention my own.” Sano sounded torn between conflicting responsibilities. “Or else we’re dead even if Lord Matsudaira’s assassins don’t get us.” He rose. “You’ll have to guard Masahiro and Akiko.”
“With my life,” Reiko vowed. “Where are you going?”
“To take care of some business. Will you be all right?”
Even though consumed by fear for her children and hating to see Sano leave, Reiko nodded. At least their shared trouble had put their quarrel behind them, and they were reunited.
Reiko looked at her mother-in-law, who lay curled in bed, whimpering in a fitful slumber. Even though Reiko foresaw a new opportunity to get the truth out of Etsuko, she resisted the temptation to try. She’d made that mistake once, and whatever Etsuko might be hiding was Sano’s task to uncover, not Reiko’s.
Sentries guarding the portals of the estates in the daimyo district looked up and down the broad, empty streets. The evening sky glowed with a smoky orange haze from fires burning in the city. High above the roofs, in the fire-watch towers, the watchers stood alert. They suddenly aimed their spyglasses downward, at a group of mounted samurai that galloped into view.
Sano and his troops reined in their horses outside Lord Arima’s estate. Two of the soldiers he’d assigned to watch Arima stepped from the shadows between the lanterns at the gates. One said, “He hasn’t moved since he left the palace.”
“Good. It’s time he and I had a talk.” Sano told the sentries, “I want to see your master. Bring him out.”
The man they fetched wasn’t Lord Arima. He was a samurai in his forties, with features that looked as if they’d been squashed vertically, the brow and chin converging toward his nose. “I’m Inaba Naomori, chief retainer to Lord Arima,” he said. “I regret to inform you that my master isn’t here.” His compressed mouth widened into a smug smile when he saw the look of dismay that passed between Sano and his men. “He left the house hours ago.”
“He couldn’t have,” protested Sano’s soldier. “We would have seen.”
“You’re welcome to search the premises,” Inaba said, “but you won’t find him, Honorable Chamberlain.”
The rat had slipped the trap. Either Lord Arima’s men had smuggled him out in disguise or the estate had secret exits, tunnels underground. “Where did he go?” Sano asked angrily.
“Sorry, I don’t know,” said Inaba. “Neither does anyone else here. He didn’t tell us his destination.”
“I’m sure,” Sano said. Lord Arima clearly didn’t want to be traced and held accountable for ordering the death of a witness in the murder case or for betraying Lord Matsudaira. But Sano could smell that Inaba wasn’t telling the truth.
“Whatever business you have with my master, you’ll have to conduct with me,” Inaba said pompously. “I’m in charge.”
“I’m delighted to hear that,” Sano said. “Now is your chance to stand in for Lord Arima. I regret that I missed him, but you’ll do. You’re coming with me.”
He gestured to his troops. They leaped from their horses and seized Inaba, who protested, “Hey! You can’t do that!”
“Just watch me,” Sano said.
As the troops marched him down the street, Inaba called, “Help!” But Sano’s other troops pointed swords at the sentries, who stood idle rather than risk their own lives.
“I don’t deserve this kind of trouble,” Inaba fumed. “I haven’t done anything wrong!”
Sano laughed with sardonic amusement. “Since when did that matter in this world?”
Before Hirata went out to pursue his inquiries, he stopped at home to check with his staff on the progress of work ordered by the shogun. The noise of laughter drew him to his children’s room. From the doorway he saw Taeko and Tatsuo romping on the bed, swatting each other with pillows. Midori scolded them good-naturedly. A hollow sensation ached in Hirata’s stomach. He felt like a starving man watching a banquet to which he wasn’t invited.
Midori’s gaze met his and turned somber. The children saw Hirata, stopped playing, and fell silent. Midori folded her hands and waited for Hirata to say what he wanted or leave. Now Hirata felt ashamed of his wish to be part of his family, and angry at Midori for excluding him. He gave up his plan to bide his time and wait for her to make a move toward him so they could have a showdown.
“I want to talk to you,” he said.
“Very well,” she said meekly, and followed him down the passage to their chamber.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Hirata said.
Midori didn’t flinch from the belligerence in his voice. “Nothing, Husband.”
Angrier than ever, he said, “You’re treating me as coldly as if I were a stranger. And your attitude has rubbed off on the children. You’ve turned them against me. Are you still trying to punish me for leaving you?”
“That isn’t it.”
Hirata didn’t believe her, although there was a steadiness about her that told him she wasn’t lying. Her feelings about his abandonment of her and the children had shifted in some way that he couldn’t define. That his mystic martial arts powers were so useless with his wife!
“Well, if you have some other grievance against me, just say it,” he ordered. “Don’t play games! Stand up and fight!”
Annoyance twitched Midori’s mouth. “I’m not some enemy warrior. I’m your wife.”
