The Ronin’s Mistress

Sano was uncomfortably aware that the court was leaning in that direction. Did Yanagisawa know, too?

“You’re going to lose your allies,” Yoritomo taunted. “You’ll be all alone. We’ll crush you.”

“It’s not just us that you’ll have to worry about, if the forty-seven ronin are put to death,” Yanagisawa said. “The town is rallying around them.” He chuckled. “Commoners love underdogs who defy the powers that be. Imagine how much bad feeling they’ll have toward the judges, and toward you, the investigator that brought their heroes down.”

“You could become the target of an uprising,” Yoritomo said.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Sano said, regretting their lost friendship.

“As much as I’ll like it when the shogun gets mad at you and sends you to Kyushu,” Yoritomo said. “When you’re gone, your family will still be here to bear the brunt of his anger.”

“And we won’t complain,” Yanagisawa mocked. “Now, if you don’t mind, we’ll be on our way.” He gazed pointedly at Sano, who was blocking the path.

Sano waited a moment before he stepped aside. He watched the two tall, slim figures stroll off into the night, shoulders touching, heads tilted toward each other. Sano heard the murmur of their voices and supposed they were cooking up more schemes against him. A wry smile tugged his mouth. The forty-seven ronin affair seemed like a tidal wave that was gathering energy, that would swamp everyone who was trying to ride it. If Yanagisawa and Yoritomo wanted him to take a fall, maybe all they needed to do was wait.

* * *

When Reiko was showing Okaru and Goza around the mansion, a servant met them and said, “Excuse me, but Lady Wakasa is here.”

Reiko told the servant to take Okaru and Goza to her parlor and give them refreshments. Then she hurried to the reception chamber. The old matchmaker sat at the kosatsu. The table was littered with cake crumbs, an empty teacup, a tobacco box, and a metal basket of hot coals. Lady Wakasa looked cross as she puffed on her tobacco pipe.

“I’ve been waiting two hours,” she said. “Where have you been?”

“A thousand apologies,” Reiko said, bowing and sitting opposite Lady Wakasa. “I had some business to take care of. I didn’t know you were coming.”

“I just heard that your husband arrested those forty-seven ronin,” Lady Wakasa said, “so I rushed over to see if there was any news.”

Reiko hesitated to tell Lady Wakasa that she’d just moved the ronin leader’s mistress into her house. Lady Wakasa was a big gossip. Reiko knew that the fact of Okaru’s presence in her home would eventually become public, but she wanted to delay it until she told Sano. Although she risked angering the matchmaker by keeping her in the dark, Reiko said, “Nothing new yet.”

“Oh.” Disappointed, Lady Wakasa said, “Well, I have news for you. The Chugo clan has withdrawn their marriage proposal.”

Reiko was glad Masahiro wouldn’t have that dull girl for his wife, but affronted. “Why?”

“They’re leery of the forty-seven ronin business.” Lady Wakasa grimaced, showing her blackened teeth. “They think it will finish off your husband.”

Reiko was disconcerted, even though she’d known that the case could jeopardize her family’s future. She’d not realized until this moment that if the worst happened and Sano was sent away, Masahiro-and Akiko-would need marriage agreements more than ever. Now, the only prospect of that security was lost.

“But it’s not my husband that will decide their fate; it’s the supreme court,” she said.

Lady Wakasa waved her hand, dispersing the smoke from her pipe. “Makes no difference. He’ll be painted black with the same ink brush.” She seemed to relish delivering this bad news. “Besides, there’s another reason why the Chugo aren’t eager for a connection with your clan. The leader is sympathetic toward the forty-seven ronin. He thinks they’re heroes.” She snorted. “Beasts, that’s what I say they are. He thinks the supreme court is going to condemn them to death, and he’s furious at the judges, and your husband.”

Vexed, Reiko said, “I suppose that even if I still wanted my son to marry into his clan-which I don’t-there’s no use telling him that nobody knows what’s actually going to happen to the forty-seven ronin.”

“No use at all.”

“Are there any new prospects?”

“I’m beating the bushes. We’ll see what birds fly out. Dear me, it’s late; I’d better go.”

Reiko escorted Lady Wakasa to the door. As the old woman rode away in her palanquin, Sano strode toward the house. Reiko met him on the veranda. He said, “Was that the matchmaker?” Reiko nodded; he studied her expression. “Your face says that you don’t have good news.”

“So does yours,” Reiko said. “Let’s go inside and we’ll talk.”

* * *

They sat at the kosatsu, warmed their hands on hot bowls of tea, and ate a dinner of buckwheat noodles in fragrant lobster soup and raw sea bream cut in slices and served with soy sauce, pickled ginger, and rice flavored with sugar and vinegar. Through the lattice-and-paper partitions came the sound of their daughter Akiko romping in the corridors with the maids. After Reiko told Sano about the withdrawn marriage proposal, he said, “So it’s happening again. The rats are leaving a ship they think is going to sink.”

He was used to it. Friends and allies had deserted him in droves during past investigations. But it still hurt. Even though the threat of separation from his family was far worse.

“They’ll come back.” Reiko sounded as if she was trying to convince herself.

Usually the deserters had returned after Sano had surmounted the difficulties and prevailed over his enemies-but not last time, when the kidnapping case had gone so wrong. “There are two people working hard to make sure they don’t,” Sano said, then told Reiko about his encounter with Yanagisawa and Yoritomo.

Reiko’s expression mixed anger, bitterness, and humor. “I swear that I’ll make sure those two get their comeuppance someday.”

Sano was amused yet chilled by the determination in her voice. He knew what his wife was capable of, and Yanagisawa and Yoritomo had better pray that they never fell into her hands. “That reminds me of the oath that the forty-seven ronin swore against Kira.”

“You spoke with them?” Interest brightened Reiko’s mood. “What did they say?”

Sano related the conflicting stories he’d heard from Oishi, Chikara, and their friends. “I told Yoritomo I would get to the truth, but right now I’m utterly at sea.”

“Did you report the stories to the supreme court? What do the judges think?”

“I did. But their proceedings are confidential, so I can’t tell you which way they’re leaning.”

Reiko studied his face. “I can guess. Things aren’t going well for Oishi.”

“I can’t deny or confirm that. But I have to admit that I’m biased in his favor.”

“Even though you know he’s lying to you?” Reiko said, puzzled.

Sano nodded. He described his impressions of Oishi, then said, “He may be the best example of a samurai that I’ve ever run across.”

Reiko frowned. “You’ve always warned me against being partial toward people who are subjects in our investigations. Now you’re losing your objectivity.”

“I know, I know.” Sano was irritated because women always remembered things a man said and threw them back at him later, and because Reiko was right. “But I can’t help hoping that some kind of evidence will turn up, that will absolve Oishi and his friends.”

“Neither can I,” Reiko confessed.

At least he and his wife saw eye to eye on the case, Sano thought gratefully. The occasions when they’d disagreed had been difficult times in their marriage. But the apprehension on her face sent a jolt of foreboding through him. “What is it?” he asked.

“I heard something about Oishi today.” Reiko spoke with halting reluctance. “From Ukihashi, his wife. She found out that her husband’s mistress is in town. She showed up at the inn, to get a look at Okaru. I’m afraid you’re not going to like her version of events.” Reiko told the story of the hardships that Oishi’s family had experienced. She described Oishi’s bitterness toward Kira, the man he held responsible. “Ukihashi thinks the vendetta was