Urahenka sat speechless, transfixed.

“Answer me!”

When he spoke, Tekare’s voice exclaimed in disbelief. Lord Matsumae’s demanded, “Why did you need to get rid of her?”

Urahenka replied, and shock appeared on their two faces in one. Tekare blurted a question in native language, while Lord Matsumae said, “Her sister! You killed her so that you could marry Wente?”

Surprise hit Sano. Here was a motive he’d never uncovered. Although aware by this time that the natives were interconnected, he had never imagined a romantic affair between this man and Reiko’s friend. Neither, apparently, had Reiko.

Urahenka spoke again, this time with defiance. Tekare shouted at him so loudly that she drowned out Lord Matsumae’s weaker voice. Gizaemon said, “She’s asking him how he could be in love with her sister, who’s a dull, plain little mouse. She’s nothing compared to Tekare. Tekare was the shamaness, the most beautiful woman in all the tribes. How could he want Wente instead?”

Sano wondered if this was another case of his misjudging the natives, thinking them too simple to engage in the tangled relationships that the Japanese had. Adultery must be common to all cultures, must provoke the same emotions in all the parties betrayed.

Tekare cursed at Urahenka. “She says he deceived her,” Gizaemon said. “He broke their marriage vows. He’s a miserable, worthless cheat.” Lord Matsumae grabbed the whip from Captain Okimoto and began flailing Urahenka. The barbs tore at the native man, who flinched as he stuttered replies.

“She doesn’t like his excuse that she treated him disrespectfully and left him for Japanese men,” Gizaemon interpreted.

“Don’t put the blame on Tekare!” Lord Matsumae yelled. “I don’t care that you needed her sister to warm your bed at night!”

He pointed at Urahenka as Tekare ranted; he shook his head violently and clapped his hand to his chest. You were my husband. And I never give up anything that’s mine! Sano didn’t need a translation to understand. Urahenka shouted back at his wife, angry now himself. That’s why I had to kill you! His motive was clearly the same as for a Japanese husband in his position.

“How dare you call her a whore?” Lord Matsumae cried while beating Urahenka, who continued trying to justify himself. Tekare’s voice shrilled.

“She’s angry because her husband says Wente is so good, so virtuous, everything Tekare isn’t,” Gizaemon said. “Urahenka says that when the chieftain decided to come to Fukuyama City and bring her home, Urahenka didn’t want her back. He came planning to kill her.” He flashed a triumphant look at Sano. “Seems it was him.”

Sano had begun to think so. Maybe if he’d dug deeper into the natives’ personal relationships he would have found out sooner about Urahenka. Maybe all those men wouldn’t have died; maybe Lord Matsumae wouldn’t have declared war. But it was selfish to feel guilt and regret on his own account. He should be glad that matters were being set right.

Lord Matsumae grabbed Urahenka by his beard. “Tell me how you did it.” From Tekare came a low, poisonous croon. “Before I kill you, tell me.”

Urahenka looked terrified enough that he would rather die on the spot than risk making his wife any angrier. He spoke. Lord Matsumae translated the words for himself as if trying to believe them-or to tear his own wounds open wider. “You sneaked away from camp every night. You waited near the castle for her to come out. You followed her along the path to the hot spring.” He sobbed. “You got the idea to set a trap for her.”

Lord Matsumae dropped the whip and pummeled Urahenka with his fists. He and Tekare howled, “Murderer!” as their personalities, voices, and languages blended. “You stole my life.” “You killed my beloved.” Together they cried, “Now you’ll die!”

Giddy with hysteria, Lord Matsumae drew his sword. “Take him to the execution ground. I’ll do the honors myself.”

“Well, that’s that,” Gizaemon said, satisfied and relieved.

Stepping forward, he grabbed Urahenka by the ropes around his wrists and yanked him to his feet. Urahenka didn’t resist; he had the grim look of a man whose fate is sealed.

“He hasn’t said anything that proves he’s guilty,” Sano protested even though Urahenka had incriminated himself.

“It’s over, Honorable Chamberlain,” Gizaemon said. “Might as well admit you’re wrong.”

The chieftain, who’d been watching the interrogation with stoic forbearance, now asked a question. Lord Matsumae answered, in native tongue. Gizaemon laughed and said, “My nephew refused to call off the war. He doesn’t care that the barbarians think he led them to believe he would. He wants them all to share their tribesman’s punishment.”

Awetok shook his head, defeated but as unsurprised as Sano was that Lord Matsumae had refused to make peace. The room filled with Tekare’s laughter. She mocked the chieftain while Lord Matsumae’s voice echoed hers: “You’re so pitiful, so weak. When I was young, you didn’t protect me from the Japanese who violated me. You were too cowardly to fight for our right to rule our own land.”

Captain Okimoto pulled the chieftain to his feet, prepared to lead him to his death. Now was Sano’s last chance to play his last card, to take one final stab at finding the truth.

“Tekare!” he shouted. “Listen to me!”

She and Lord Matsumae raged at her husband: “You didn’t want me to better myself. If I had to die, so should you.”

“Urahenka’s not the only man you abused who wanted you dead,” Sano told her.

Lord Matsumae raised his sword. “I’m not going to wait for an execution ceremony. I’ll kill you now!”

Sano lunged and grabbed him. The troops grabbed Sano, pulling him back. He hung onto Lord Matsumae, who turned on him and fought him. Sano saw only one brilliant, fiery light in Lord Matsumae’s eyes-Tekare’s consciousness. When she snarled, Lord Matsumae’s face belonged completely to her. His body had the soft, pliant feel of a young woman’s. Sano was astounded to think that he was touching a ghost. When Tekare wrenched free of him, his hands felt scorched by her power. He broke loose from the troops and stood between Tekare and Urahenka.

“Get out of my way!” As Tekare spoke, Lord Matsumae’s voice again echoed her words in Japanese. His hand waved the sword at Sano.

“Give your husband the benefit of doubt,” Sano said. “The real killer could be someone you’re overlooking.”

The troops hurled themselves at Sano, recaptured him, and dragged him away from Urahenka. But Tekare frowned, her attention engaged at last. “Overlooking? Who?”

“You’re inside him,” Sano said.

Tekare raised Lord Matsumae’s eyebrows in surprise. She glanced down at the male human body she’d taken over, then laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous. Lord Matsumae was in love with me.” She lifted his hand and caressed his face. The act evoked a disturbing presence of the two lovers together. “He worshipped me.”

“At first,” Sano agreed, “until you mistreated him.”

“Who says I did?”

“This does.” Sano pulled out the book he’d been carrying with him. “It’s Lord Matsumae’s diary. It tells the truth about his relationship with you. Listen.” He paged through the book, reading passages: ‘“I notice how other men look at Tekare. Does she smile at them? Do their eyes hold a moment too long?”“

The troops unhanded Sano and listened with rapt, unnerved attention, as if the voice of their master spoke through him and he was vested with Lord Matsumae’s power. But Gizaemon demanded, “Where did you get that?”

“From Lord Matsumae’s room.” Sano noted how surprised Gizaemon appeared. Had he not known how things were between his nephew and Tekare? Or had he only been unaware that Lord Matsumae had kept a diary? But it wasn’t Gizaemon’s possible motive for murder that concerned Sano right now.

“”My worst fears have been realized,“” he continued, paging through the diary. “‘I saw Tekare and the young soldier.” ’They dared to couple right in front of me, as if I were not there!“ ‘She smiled at me as I lay helpless and horrified.”“

“But it was just a game we played.” Tekare sounded surprised that Lord Matsumae should have minded.

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