Line up the soldiers, Masahiro-chan,” said Reiko.
Squatting on the nursery floor, the little boy carefully positioned his toy horsemen, archers, and swordsmen as Reiko and his old nurse O-sugi watched.
“That’s very good.” Reiko smiled at her son, but her mind was on Sano. Ever since he’d left for the palace, she’d waited in fearful suspense for him to return from his meeting with the shogun. She longed to know what was happening.
A loud crash from outside startled her and Masahiro and O-sugi. It sounded as if someone had broken down the garden gate. Then Reiko heard muttering and stomping. Puzzled, she rose, opened the door, stepped onto the veranda, and saw Sano in the garden. Head down, fists clenched, he stalked around trees. His feet trampled flowerbeds; his gait was unsteady.
“I can’t stand it,” he muttered. Breath puffed from him in white vapor clouds that rapidly formed and dispersed in the cold, sunlit air. “I can’t stand it anymore!”
Alarmed by his strange behavior, Reiko hurried across the garden to Sano. “What’s happened?” she cried.
Sano whirled toward her, his eyes wild and face contorted by fierce emotion. “Lady Yanagisawa brought the pillow book too late.” He continued prowling the garden while Reiko ran after him. “The shogun had already read it. He now suspects me of murdering Lord Mitsuyoshi!”
“Oh, no.” Reiko stopped, and her hand clasped her throat as horror and comprehension flooded her. She’d never seen Sano this upset because nothing this bad had ever happened before.
“That despicable, scheming, foul Hoshina got hold of the book. He made sure His Excellency saw it.” As Sano poured out a disjointed account of the meeting, his arms lashed out at bushes that got in his way. Reiko realized that he wasn’t just upset, but furious. “Hoshina branded me a traitor! I barely managed to convince the shogun to give me a chance to prove I’m innocent!”
Reiko caught up with Sano and reached for his arm. “Everything will be all right,” she said, trying to soothe him despite her own terror.
But Sano careened backward across the grass, shouting, “For four years I’ve done everything the shogun has asked of me. I’ve shed my blood for honor!” Sano halted and tore open his garments to reveal the scars on his torso. “I know His Excellency owes me nothing in return, and I wish for nothing except for him to see me as the loyal retainer that I am!”
Reiko noticed O-sugi and Masahiro standing on the veranda, gaping as Sano raved. “Go back inside,” she called to them, then urged Sano, “Please calm yourself. Come in the house before you freeze.”
He appeared not to hear her. “You’d think that once-just once-His Excellency could have faith in me and disregard the slander of my enemies,” Sano said, addressing the world at large. “But no-he was quick to believe everything Hoshina said against me. He was ready to condemn me on the spot, without even hearing my side of the story!” Sano gave a bitter laugh. “The only thing that saved me is that I’ve been in these situations enough times to know how to talk my way out of them.”
Although the shogun’s frequent injustices toward Sano pained her, Reiko had never heard him complain. The Black Lotus case had taxed his endurance, and this outrage had finally shattered it. Frightened for her husband, and frightened of him, Reiko crept toward Sano.
“You’ll get out of this one, too,” she said. “The shogun will trust you again.”
“Oh, no. He won’t.” Eyes dark with anger, Sano backed away from her. “Because I’m finished. I’ve had enough violent death, enough dirty politics, enough of trying to please a master who always threatens to kill me.” He pumped his fists at his sides and threw back his head. “I can’t stand any more!”
Reiko gasped. “What will you do?” she said, and heard her voice quaver with fear. If Sano renounced his servitude to the shogun, he would lose his livelihood and home as well as his honor. Her cold hands pressed her cheeks. “Where will we go?”
“I don’t know.” Sano resumed his blind, furious strides around the garden. “I don’t care, as long as it’s far from Edo Castle and everyone here!”
“But you can’t just give up everything,” Reiko said, following him in panic. “Please think about Masahiro’s future.” Sano knew the hardship of growing up the son of a ronin. Surely he wouldn’t want the same for Masahiro.
“I am thinking of it! I won’t have my son trapped in the same impossible circumstances as I!”
A branch of an azalea bush snagged his sleeve. With a cry of rage, Sano drew his sword and began hacking viciously at the bush. Branches and twigs flew at every touch of his blade, while he shouted curses. Reiko shrank away from him in stark, wide-eyed terror. This wasn’t her husband; it was a demon who’d possessed him.
Suddenly Sano halted. With an anguished groan, he flung away his weapon. He sagged to his knees before the mutilated bush, his temper spent. Shudders convulsed him. Reiko’s terror dissolved. She went to Sano and put her arms around him.
Inside his private chamber, Sano sat wrapped in a quilt, drinking a hot herbal infusion that Reiko had given him to restore his spirits, while she knelt watching anxiously.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
And he was sorry-for saying deplorable things; for succumbing to emotion and displaying weakness; for destroying the bush in a fit of undignified temper; for scaring Reiko. He hadn’t realized how much bad will had built up inside him. Releasing it had given him an exhilarating sense of freedom; but now, although he felt more peaceful than he had in ages, he was deeply ashamed. And nothing had changed. The shogun still suspected him of murdering Lord Mitsuyoshi; Police Commissioner Hoshina was still determined to incriminate him. If he wanted to survive, Sano mustn’t lose his self-control again.
“Do you really mean to give up your post?” Reiko asked, her manner still troubled.
“No.” Sano’s moment of rebellion had passed. He had nowhere to go, and he couldn’t sacrifice his honor or his family’s future. Nor could he sacrifice the vocation that was his path along the Way of the Warrior, the strict code of duty, obedience, and courage by which samurai lived.
“Then what will you do?” Reiko said.
“I’ll find the real killer, prove my innocence, and regain the shogun’s trust.” Determination and a desire for justice rekindled in Sano. “It will be hard, because all the clues have so far led nowhere, but there’s still hope.”
He and Reiko looked up as Hirata appeared in the doorway. “Sumimasen-excuse me, but there’s bad news.” Visibly distraught, Hirata said, “Magistrate Aoki just convicted Fujio of murdering Lady Wisteria, and Momoko as an accomplice. They’ve been taken to the execution ground.”
Reiko murmured in dismay. Sano had anticipated Fujio’s conviction when he’d heard Magistrate Aoki had convened the trial, but Momoko’s took him by surprise.
“Come in. Sit down and explain,” Sano said to Hirata.
Hirata complied, and Sano marveled that the magistrate had based the verdict on a story he’d invented and couldn’t prove. After Hirata had finished, Sano said, “This seems to be the day for bad news,” then told Hirata what had happened to him.
“All three of our suspects are gone.” Hirata’s face reflected his horror. “That leaves you as the only target for the shogun’s wrath.”
Sano perceived cosmic forces shifting and heard the approaching thunder of doom as the onus settled upon him.
Reiko said, “Maybe Fujio, Momoko, or Treasury Minister Nitta did murder Lord Mitsuyoshi. They’re still good suspects and worth investigating even if they’re no longer alive.”
“We can still look for proof of their guilt,” Hirata said, following up her attempt to look on the bright side.
“And hope that it exists,” Sano said, “because I’m afraid that if we can’t find a witness or some solid evidence that points to someone other than me, the only thing that will convince the shogun I’m innocent is the killer’s confession. Which would be difficult to get from a dead person.”
His companions nodded in glum agreement. Then Hirata spoke hesitantly: “Police Commissioner Hoshina isn’t above falsifying evidence against you. That second pillow book stank of him. He’s sure to invent more ‘proof that you’re a traitor.”
