“Can you describe the man you met there?” Sano said. Perhaps the man was the Dragon King or his henchman, as well as the father of Mariko’s stillborn child.
Yuka pondered. “He was maybe thirty-five years old, and tall.” Sano noted that almost anyone probably seemed tall to her. “He was handsome, but there was something about him that frightened me.” She frowned in an effort to articulate her impression. “It was his eyes. They were so black, like he could see out of them, but I couldn’t see in. I felt as if they could pull me into their darkness.”
“Did you get his name?” Sano asked.
Yuka shook her head. Although Sano questioned her at length, she couldn’t remember any more about the man. But perhaps the strange eyes would better serve to identify him than would details on his other features or his clothing.
“Who were the two samurai that came with Mariko the last time you saw her?” Sano said.
“I don’t know,” Yuka said. “They didn’t introduce themselves. And I was too afraid to even look closely at them. But they wore crests like yours.”
She pointed to the Tokugawa triple-hollyhock-leaf insignias on Sano’s surcoat. A chill of dismay stole through Sano. If the men who’d taken Mariko to Edo Castle were indeed Tokugawa retainers, then here was more evidence that someone in the bakufu had planted her as a spy in the Large Interior. Sano quailed at the thought of telling the shogun that a traitor lurked within the regime. He dreaded extending the search for the Dragon King into the ranks of his comrades, and the peril that would result. Yet Sano had never backed away from danger while in pursuit of the truth. To save Reiko and his lord’s mother, he would take the investigation wherever he must.
“Mariko must have done terrible things that I never knew about.” Yuka began to weep again. “Her death must have been the punishment she deserved.”
“Perhaps not,” Sano said, rising. “I think your daughter got involved with someone who forced her to do things she shouldn’t have.”
No matter if the evidence suggested that Mariko had been an accomplice in the kidnapping, Sano believed she’d also been an innocent victim, unaware of the Dragon King’s evil schemes and in thrall to him. The mystery surrounding her life hinted at how she’d become his unwitting tool, and how various threads of the crime intertwined. Sano also believed Mariko had brought him a step closer to the Dragon King. Now he had additional reasons to persevere with his investigation, no matter the risk to himself.
“I promise to bring Mariko’s killers to justice and avenge her murder,” Sano told Yuka.
22
I couldn’t tell Midori or Lady Keisho-in everything the Dragon King did because I don’t want to frighten them,” Reiko said to Lady Yanagisawa. “But I’ll tell you-if you can be brave enough to stand some bad news.”
“Yes. I can,” Lady Yanagisawa said eagerly, pleased that Reiko would confide in her, as she too seldom did.
It was early evening, and chill air crept into the prison. In the melancholy ocher light of sunset, Reiko and Lady Yanagisawa sat together in a corner, speaking in low tones while Midori and Keisho-in lay sleeping on the mattresses, covered by quilts. Mutters and shuffling noises came from guards stationed throughout the building. Birds cawed and flapped wildly in the trees outside; cicadas and crickets began their nocturnal dirge. A quickening breeze slapped waves against the base of the tower.
“I begged the Dragon King to let us go,” Reiko said, “and he refused. He wouldn’t even tell me where we are. When I asked why he’s holding us prisoners, he said he wanted revenge on someone he wouldn’t identify, for some reason I couldn’t understand. When I asked if he was going to kill us, he said he hoped not.”
“What did he mean?” Lady Yanagisawa said.
Reiko uttered a forlorn laugh. “I suppose that whether we live or die depends on his whim.”
Lady Yanagisawa experienced a dwindling hope of survival, yet their companionship eased her misery. She clasped Reiko’s hands. “If we must die, at least we’ll die together.”
She felt Reiko flinch, and sensed that her friend was still withholding information. “Was there something else that disturbed you?” she said, and not only because she wanted to know what else had happened between Reiko and the man who called himself the Dragon King.
Ever since she’d first laid eyes on Reiko almost four years ago, she’d wanted to know everything about her. Reiko epitomized all that Lady Yanagisawa lacked. Reiko was beautiful, while Lady Yanagisawa was ugly. Reiko had a husband who adored her; Lady Yanagisawa agonized in unrequited love for the chamberlain, who barely seemed aware that she existed. Reiko had a child who was as perfect as Kikuko was defective. Envy had turned Lady Yanagisawa’s interest in Reiko into an obsession.
Lady Yanagisawa had ordered her servants to find out from Reiko’s servants everything that Reiko did. When Reiko went out, Lady Yanagisawa had followed her at a distance, spying on her. Last winter she’d formed an acquaintance with Reiko that permitted welcome opportunities to learn about her. Whenever she visited Reiko, she sneaked around the house and rummaged through Reiko’s possessions. She memorized things Reiko said. She loved Reiko with an ardor that nearly equaled what she felt for her husband and daughter.
Yet deep within her smoldered a volcano of jealousy, fueled by anger that Reiko should have so much, and she so little. She bitterly resented that Reiko didn’t value their friendship as much as she did; at the same time, she cherished a vague idea that if they grew close enough, some of Reiko’s good fortune would magically transfer to her.
“The Dragon King behaved so weirdly,” Reiko said with a shiver. She told how the Dragon King had stared at her, prowled around her, and talked in riddles. “He frightens me as much because I can’t understand him as because he and his men murdered our entourage. The most I can figure out is that his reason for kidnapping us has something to do with a woman he once knew. It seems that her name was Anemone, and that I resemble her.”
As she described how he’d given her a banquet, raged at her, and recited erotic poetry, Reiko slipped her hands from Lady Yanagisawa’s grasp and twisted them together. Her eyelids lowered; her throat contracted. “Then he made improper advances toward me.”
Her tone and expression conveyed the fear, disgust, and anger of a woman threatened by an assault on the virtue that society required of her. Lady Yanagisawa burned with outrage at the Dragon King. Yet although she wanted to kill him for upsetting her friend, her internal forces shifted with a queasy sensation, as if she’d suddenly spun around to behold a different view. Even while trapped in the middle of nowhere, Reiko was special. Her beauty set her apart from the other women. She had attracted the Dragon King, who’d given them better treatment because of her. He cared nothing for Lady Yanagisawa and hadn’t summoned her, even though she outranked Reiko. Lady Yanagisawa wouldn’t have wanted him to, but a perverse resentment stabbed her pride.
Would she never be allowed to forget that men desired Reiko and not her? Must circumstances always force her to remember that Reiko, not she, possessed the qualities that could win a husband’s love?
Even now, with the threat of death menacing them all, her jealousy toward Reiko surged hot and turbulent within Lady Yanagisawa. She bowed her head, pressed her hands against her temples, and felt the blood throb under the skin.
“I never expected this,” she muttered.
“Neither did I,” Reiko said, obviously interpreting the comment as a response to her story and unaware of the direction that Lady Yanagisawa’s thoughts had taken. “The Dragon King stopped short of ravishing me,” she continued, “but what about next time? If no one rescues us first, what then?”
Reiko paced the prison, wringing her hands. “He’ll take me, while his men watch. If I resist, they’ll kill me-and punish you, Midori, and Lady Keisho-in.” Anger flamed in Reiko’s eyes. “I hate being so helpless!”
Pity for Reiko abated Lady Yanagisawa’s other emotions. She rose, moved behind Reiko, and lay a consoling hand on her shoulder. “There must be something we can do to escape.”
Reiko whirled, turning a fierce gaze on Lady Yanagisawa. “Such as what?” she demanded. While Lady Yanagisawa stood mute, at a loss for answers, Reiko said, “Shall we break down the door and overpower the guards with our bare hands?” She pantomimed the actions. “Shall we walk across the lake and back to Edo Castle before the Dragon King’s troops can catch us?”
