“No, Father!” Midori cried.
Incensed by the daimyo’s proprietary attitude, Hirata held Midori’s other arm. Fukida and Marume grabbed Lord Niu and tried to break his grip on Midori. His men wrestled Hirata. As the opposing sides tugged at her, Midori screamed and the baby cried. Hirata marveled that even though his father-in-law wasn’t the kidnapper, he’d ended up battling Lord Niu anyway.
“Let go of her, you piece of horse dung!” Lord Niu’s crooked face blazed with anger.
“She’s my wife,” Hirata shouted. “You let go!”
“When you fell in love with that villain Hoshina, I thought that if my father knew about your affair, he would put an end to it,” the Dragon King said to Reiko. “I thought he would use his influence to have Hoshina banished from the city.”
The candles flickered; sweet, pungent smoke curled up from the incense sticks. Outside the chamber, the battle raged on while Sano, Reiko, and the detectives listened.
“It was a hot summer day,” the Dragon King continued. “You were absent from home. My father was in his study. When I told him about your affair, he just thanked me, then sent me away. All that day I waited for him to act. When you came home at dusk, I watched him ask you to go boating with him. I thought he was going to confront you about Hoshina. I wanted to watch what happened. As you and my father rode to Lake Biwa in your palanquin, I followed on foot.
“It was getting dark, and the road to the lake was crowded with traffic. Neither of you noticed me.” A bitter smile twisted the Dragon King’s mouth. “But my father never did pay me much attention. He favored his older sons. He thought I was a stupid weakling. And your thoughts were too full of Hoshina.
“When we reached the lake, my father rowed you out on the water in his boat. I rented a boat at the pier and rowed after you. The night sky was lit up with fireworks. You and my father stopped far out on the lake where it was dark. I stopped some distance away. I could see the lantern glowing on your boat, and the two of you sitting under the canopy. There was no lantern on my boat. You didn’t know I was there.”
“No one knew,” Sano said softly, and Reiko saw his startled frown. “The official records don’t mention a witness.”
“Then my father told you that he’d discovered your affair,” continued the Dragon King. “You denied it. My father said he knew about your trysts. You tried to convince him that Hoshina meant nothing to you. But I knew better. So did my father.” The Dragon King’s tone scorned the lies. “Though you told him you loved him and you begged his forgiveness, he wasn’t appeased. He shouted, ‘You’ll pay for betraying me!’ And he threw you in the lake.”
Horror glazed the Dragon King’s eyes. “I swear I never suspected that my father would hurt you, Anemone.” He extended a pleading hand toward Reiko. “Had I known, I never would have told him about your affair. You must believe me!”
Reiko was astounded. By telling tales on his mother, the Dragon King had delivered her to her death. He was at least as responsible for Anemone’s murder as Hoshina was.
“I watched you struggle in the water,” the Dragon King said. “I listened as you called for help. I saw my father row the boat away. I was so stunned that I couldn’t move.” He sat rigid and stared blankly, as he must have that night. “I just sat while you fought for your life. I watched my father stop his boat and begin to weep.”
Reiko saw the scene shimmering between her and the Dragon King. Sano and the detectives beheld him as though entranced.
“He drew his short sword,” the Dragon King said. “I realized he was going to commit seppuku. And I was the only person able to prevent him from killing himself, or you from drowning. I drew a breath to call to him. I started rowing toward you.”
The Dragon King pantomimed his actions. “But then, I remembered how my father never spoke to me except to criticize. I remembered that you had spurned me. My love for you, and my filial piety toward my father, turned to hatred. Suddenly, death seemed like a just punishment for the way you’d treated me.” Vindictive anger blazed from the Dragon King. “So I watched my father slash his throat. I watched you disappear beneath the water.”
His gloating satisfaction repelled Reiko. “I sat there, intoxicated by my revenge,” he said. “But the intoxication soon faded. I was filled with horror that you’d drowned while I sat idle.” The Dragon King’s expression reflected his words. “I quickly rowed toward where you’d sunk.
“But the lantern on my father’s boat burned out. The fireworks had stopped. It was so dark that I could see nothing. I plunged my oar into the water, feeling for you. I called your name.” Tears poured from the Dragon King’s eyes, mingling with the blood on his face. “I searched until dawn. But the lake was as smooth as a mirror. You had vanished without a trace. So I rowed back to shore and went home.
“Ever since that terrible night I’ve grieved for you, Anemone,” the Dragon King said to Reiko as he wept. “For twelve years I’ve worshiped at your funeral altar. For twelve years I schemed to avenge your death.”
Now Reiko understood why he’d pursued Hoshina’s destruction with such excessive zeal. His father, who had killed Anemone, was beyond harm. The Dragon King had transferred his own share of the blame for Anemone’s murder to Hoshina because he couldn’t bear the burden. He’d hoped that by punishing Hoshina, he could assuage his own guilt.
“For twelve years my secret has divided my spirit from yours.” He raised his hand, palm outward, fingers spread, as if against an invisible barrier between himself and Reiko. “It divides us still. I can’t see nor touch you without remembering what I did.”
Reiko also finally understood the reason for his impotence with her and other women. His guilt, not his love for Anemone, had emasculated him.
Sobs convulsed the Dragon King. “The only way for us to reunite is for me to join you in death.”
He lifted the dagger, both hands grasping the hilt, pointing the blade at his middle. Reiko averted her face so that she wouldn’t see the blade zigzag through flesh and vital organs. Sano took her arm and backed her toward the door. The Dragon King breathed in quick, sharp gasps. A groan of frustration and rage issued from him.
“I can’t!” he cried.
Reiko turned and saw him grappling with the dagger. His hands shook violently. The blade’s tip impinged on his stomach. Spasms wrenched his face as he tried to muster the courage to take his own life. Yet he could no more thrust the dagger into himself than he could enter a woman.
The Dragon King ceased struggling. He dropped his hands and the dagger onto his lap. He looked up, his features a blur of tears, defeat, and shame. His gaze lit on Sano.
“Execute Hoshina. Grant me my vengeance,” he said quietly, then gave Reiko a tender, wistful smile. “May our spirits reunite in the real Dragon King’s underwater palace someday.”
He bounded to his feet with a sudden, startling roar and charged across the room toward Reiko. The detectives grabbed for him, but too late. Reiko saw the Dragon King raise the dagger at her. His swift, unexpected motion froze her in terror. She saw the desperate intent in his eyes, and her death impending. But Sano moved even faster. He lashed his sword between Reiko and the Dragon King.
The blade gashed the Dragon King deep across the abdomen. His roar became a squeal of agony. He dropped, spilling blood and viscera from the wound. The dagger fell from his hand. Reiko saw consciousness flee his eyes, and death wipe the expression off his face, even before he crumpled to the floor and lay still. Sano turned her away and enfolded her in his arms. She swooned with horror, delayed shock, and gratitude toward Sano. When her racing heartbeat slowed and her mind cleared, she comprehended what the Dragon King had done.
“He was a coward to the end,” she said. “He had his men kidnap Lady Keisho-in and the rest of us. He wanted the shogun to kill Hoshina for him. Then he attacked me so you would kill him, because he wasn’t brave enough to commit seppuku. He wanted to die here rather than face a trial, scandal, and public execution.”
“He’s proved that a coward can do more harm than many a braver man,” Sano said. His voice was hard; his sword dripped blood as he surveyed the scene. “There’s no need to commiserate over his death. Let’s go. He can stay here for now.”
Before leaving the palace, Reiko leaned over the altar and blew out the candles.
Sano, Reiko, and Detectives Inoue and Arai exited the palace gate to find the square outside as brightly lit, crowded, and noisy as a temple precinct during a festival. Lanterns ringed the perimeter. Troops milled about or bandaged minor wounds; they swilled sake from flasks while bantering about their exploits during the raid on the island. Others guarded a few of the Dragon King’s men who’d been taken prisoner and now squirmed on the
