The Ronin’s Mistress

while the shogun shrieked.

“Tie his hands and feet, too,” Kajikawa said. “With your own sash.”

His breath puffed and sweat glistened on his forehead, but he was calmer now. Sano wondered what on earth he thought could possibly save him. Yanagisawa extended his legs and hands. Yoritomo bound Yanagisawa’s ankles.

“Tie his hands behind his back,” Kajikawa instructed.

Until he knew what Kajikawa had planned, Sano couldn’t formulate a counterstrategy. Yanagisawa lay on his side on the platform while Yoritomo tied his hands. The sash connected them to his trussed ankles. Sano waited despite a fever of suspense that was almost as unbearable as the shogun’s screams. He braced himself with the thought that when the moment came for him to act, this was one time when Yanagisawa wouldn’t be able to interfere.

“While you’re at it, tie everybody else up,” Kajikawa said.

As Yoritomo trussed the servants and boys, he looked furious as well as despondent without his father to guide him. When he reached Sano, he tied the knots with vicious yanks, cruelly tight.

“Loosen them,” Sano whispered. “So I can save the shogun.”

Yoritomo uttered a breathy, scornful laugh. “Big talk.”

He pulled the sash so tight between Sano’s ankles and wrists that Sano’s spine curved backward. Sano stifled a cry. He watched in helpless fury while Yoritomo tied up Masahiro, who bravely endured his pain. When Yoritomo was done, the scene resembled a tuna auction. Bodies lay scattered on the floor, as immobile as dead fish for sale. Mouths were open as if gasping last breaths. Sano couldn’t bear to look at Masahiro and see his son’s gaze begging him to do something. The time wasn’t right.

Maybe it never would be.

Kajikawa withdrew his sword from the shogun and said, “Get up.”

The shogun’s screams dwindled into a whimper. He tried to rise, but he shook so hard that he fell back on the platform. “I can’t,” he wailed.

“Get up.” Kajikawa jabbed the point of his sword at the shogun’s nose.

Cross-eyed as he gazed at the blade, the shogun levered himself up on his elbows and got his feet under him. Knees wobbling and arms windmilling, soiled with vomit, he looked like a drunk thrown out of a teahouse. Kajikawa caught him from behind, locking his left arm across the shogun’s chest.

“We’re going to walk out of the palace.” He held his blade against the shogun’s blood-smeared throat.

Kajikawa planned to use the shogun as a hostage and ensure his passage to freedom. Sano thought of everything that could go wrong and end up with the shogun killed. But he saw a glimmer of light, the opportunity he’d been waiting for.

Kajikawa propelled the shogun off the platform. The shogun whimpered and stumbled, his legs as limp as noodles. Kajikawa held him up and urged him toward Yoritomo, who stood beside his trussed, gagged, and fuming father. Yoritomo wrung his hands. His chin trembled.

“Walk ahead of us,” Kajikawa said. “Whoever we meet, tell them to get out of the way, or I’ll kill the shogun.”

With an agonized glance at his father, Yoritomo fell into step. Sano called, “Kajikawa- san.” He squeezed his voice through the pain growing in his bent spine. He tried not to strain against his bonds and make it worse. “You won’t get away with this.”

“Why not?” Kajikawa kept moving. “I’ve already gotten away with plenty that you never thought I would.” But his steps slowed as he neared the door.

Sano hoped it meant he wanted to be stopped. “By now everybody knows what’s happened. The palace will be surrounded by troops.”

“They won’t touch me as long as I’ve got His Excellency.”

The shogun moaned. “Somebody help me!”

Sano wriggled across the floor and blocked Kajikawa’s path. Agony shot through his spine. His muscles contracted. The sash pulled tighter. He gasped.

“You can’t stop me.” Kajikawa edged around Sano.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Sano asked.

“Someplace. Anyplace away from Edo.” Kajikawa sounded forlorn.

“You obviously haven’t thought it through. Let me tell you what will happen when you get outside.” The sash cut into Sano’s flesh. His fingers and toes were going numb. “The army will surround you and follow you wherever you go.”

“I don’t want to die!” the shogun blubbered. “Please!”

The other people in the room lay silent, listening. Sano felt them depending on him. The air stank with their fear of what would happen if he failed to save the shogun. Everyone present would surely be punished. And then a war for control of the regime would begin. Yanagisawa’s gaze shot daggers of hatred, rage, and hope at Sano.

“The army won’t touch me.” Kajikawa grunted with exertion as he pushed the shogun ahead. “As long as I’ve got His Excellency, I’m safe.”

“You can’t hang on to him forever,” Sano pointed out. “You’ll have to rest sooner or later. And then it’ll be over. You should surrender now, while you can.”

Kajikawa abruptly stopped a few paces from the door. Sarcasm, terror, and desperation played with his face like wicked ghosts. His eyes watered. “You’re such a know-it-all! So tell me: I’m doomed if I go through with this, but what good will it do me not to?”

Even though Sano saw how badly Kajikawa wanted to be persuaded to surrender, he had nothing to offer Kajikawa in return. Kajikawa wouldn’t believe false promises; Yanagisawa had proved that. Sano ransacked his imagination.

“You wanted to explain why you did what you did,” Sano said. “If you go out there, you’ll be too busy trying to fend off the army.” Muscle spasms tortured him. His back was breaking. “This might be your last chance. Why not take it? You have a captive audience.”

Kajikawa hesitated. Sano heard the people on the floor draw their breath. He said, “When you die, it will be too late.”

Kajikawa’s eyes revealed the inner battle between his urge to flee and his desire to justify himself.

“Wouldn’t you rather talk while you can?” Sano coaxed. There was no feeling left in his hands or feet, and he knew Masahiro wasn’t any better off. A tremendous guilt crushed him. He was responsible for Masahiro being here. He’d done no better by his son than Yanagisawa had by Yoritomo or Oishi by Chikara. “Wouldn’t you like everybody to know what happened to your son?”

Kajikawa’s rage flared. “Don’t drag Tsunamori into this.”

“Tsunamori is already in the middle of it,” Sano said. “He’s the reason you manipulated Oishi into a vendetta against Kira.”

“How do you know?”

“Your assistant told me that you blamed Kira for Tsunamori’s suicide.”

Kajikawa shook his head, and tears flew from his eyes. “I don’t want to talk about it.” He clasped the shogun as tightly as a drowning man would his rescuer.

“Expose Kira for what he was, a monster who fed on the pain he caused other people,” Sano urged. “It’s the only way for you to get justice for your son.”

“Justice was done when Oishi killed Kira!”

“Not quite,” Sano said. “The forty-seven ronin’s score is settled, but yours won’t be until your story is out in the open.”

The battle in Kajikawa’s eyes waged, shame versus his need for retaliation. Then Kajikawa said, “You’re right.” His voice broke. “I need the world to know.”

* * *

The underside of the palace was a cold, dark maze that smelled of earth. Guided by diamond-shaped patterns of light from the openings in the lattice, Reiko crawled past stone piers that supported the building, over rough ground that scraped her knees, gouged her hands, and snagged her robes. Cobwebs dangling from the floor joists brushed her face. Reiko had never been in the shogun’s private chambers, but she knew they were at the center of the palace. She inched along, trying not to make a sound. She ducked to avoid bumping her head on braziers