The Ronin’s Mistress

and lands confiscated by the government, and all Lord Asano’s retainers became ronin.”

That was a serious disgrace for a samurai, even when he lost his warrior status through no fault of his own. Sano knew because it had happened to his own father. His father’s lord had run afoul of the third Tokugawa shogun, who’d confiscated his lands and turned all his retainers, including the Sano family, out to fend for themselves. Sano’s father hadn’t recovered from the humiliation until Sano had gotten into the Tokugawa regime and restored the family’s honor.

“It appears that these ronin blamed Kira for their lord’s death and they’ve taken revenge,” Sano said.

“But didn’t the shogun rule that Kira wasn’t guilty of anything and therefore shouldn’t be punished?” Fukida said. “Didn’t he forbid any action against Kira?”

Marume covered the corpse with the tarp. “Yes, but apparently that didn’t stop the ronin.”

“This shouldn’t come as a surprise,” Sano said. Loyalty to one’s master was the highest principle of Bushido. Avenging the death of his master was a solemn duty that a good samurai could not neglect.

“Except that it happened so long after Lord Asano’s death,” Hirata said.

“And except that so many ronin were involved and they killed so many people besides Kira,” Fukida said. “I’ve never heard of a vendetta like this.”

Vendettas usually involved only two people-the perpetrator and the individual who’d wronged him-although sometimes relatives or friends would join in on either side. The scale and sheer brutality of this revenge astounded Sano. It would surely cause an uproar.

“I don’t suppose the ronin bothered to register the vendetta,” Hirata said. Vendetta was legal when the perpetrator notified the authorities of his intentions. This notification served as a warning to his target, who was then on his guard and had time to hide.

“You’re right,” Sano said. “The shogun’s orders prohibited a vendetta in this case.”

“My master was always afraid it would happen anyway,” Gorobei said. “That’s why he had so many guards. That’s why his bedchamber had a secret exit.”

“That just goes to show: If someone’s determined to get you, they will,” Marume said.

“Well, at least the mystery appears to be solved,” Sano said. “We know who killed Kira and why.”

He felt a massive letdown. Kira’s murder was supposed to be the big case that he could impress the shogun by solving, the pathway to regaining his status and honor, but it had proved to be disappointingly simple, almost over as soon as he’d begun.

“We still have to arrest the ronin,” Hirata said, then asked Gorobei, “Where did they go?”

“I don’t know,” the old man said unhappily.

“We’ll find them.” Sano hoped that he could accomplish some good by finishing the investigation quickly. “Let’s get to work.”

4

“IHave good news and bad news,” the matchmaker told Lady Reiko. “Which do you want first?”

The two women sat in the reception room in Sano’s mansion, at the kosatsu-a table built over a sunken charcoal brazier. Their feet and legs were warm in the space around the fire. A quilt covered the table and their laps. They wore silk kimonos lined with fur. The old matchmaker’s was dark gray, Reiko’s a plum shade suitable for a matron of thirty-three. A teapot, cups, and a spread of sweet cakes shaped like flowers lay before them on the table.

“Tell me the bad news,” Reiko said.

The matchmaker was Lady Wakasa, the mother of Lord Ikeda, who was one of Sano’s most powerful allies. She was seventy-nine years old but vigilantly preserved, her hair dyed an unnatural black that matched her teeth, which were also colored black in the fashion of samurai wives. Age had shrunken her to the size of a child and withered her face, but she had the energy of a woman twenty years younger. She liked meddling in other people’s business, and when she’d heard that Sano and Reiko were looking for a bride for their son, she’d volunteered to act as the go-between who conveyed proposals to and from families with marriageable daughters.

“The Fukushima clan rejected your proposal,” she said.

That clan was another of Sano’s allies, with a large domain and much wealth. “Oh,” Reiko said, disappointed.

Lady Wakasa jabbed her finger at Reiko. “I told you that you were reaching too high.” She was blunt and outspoken to the point of rudeness, a trait common in old women, a privilege of age. “When your husband was chamberlain, they would have leaped at a chance to intermarry with your family, but now-”

“I know.” Reiko cut Lady Wakasa off before she could chew over the story of how Sano’s troubles had reduced Masahiro’s marriage prospects. A curse on Yanagisawa! Reiko was furious at him for jeopardizing her children.

“Here’s the good news,” Lady Wakasa said. “A representative from the Chugo clan has offered Masahiro the youngest daughter of the main branch of their family.”

“We were hoping for something better,” Reiko said. The Chugo clan were Tokugawa vassals, but their leader was only a captain in the army. An alliance with them would do little to improve the political standing of the Sano clan. Furthermore, Reiko knew the girl, a dull creature.

“Are you directing me to say you’re not interested? We’ve had sixteen refusals in a year, and this is our first offer. Don’t be too quick to turn it down.”

“All right,” Reiko said reluctantly. “Tell them we’re considering their proposal. But keep looking for new prospects. There’s still time. Masahiro is only eleven.”

Samurai boys didn’t officially reach manhood until age fourteen; yet children were often betrothed, and Sano and Reiko needed to safeguard Masahiro’s future. If Masahiro was betrothed, he would have another family to protect him while he was young and give him a place in society when he was an adult-if Sano wasn’t there to do it. Reiko must find Masahiro a bride quickly, because Sano’s situation wasn’t getting any better. But she felt as if she was hurrying the end of his childhood. She wanted him to remain her baby for as long as possible.

“Time goes fast,” Lady Wakasa warned. “The sooner your son is settled, the better, and your daughter, too. You can bet that Chamberlain Yanagisawa isn’t wasting any time getting his sons married. Have you heard the rumor? It seems that Yanagisawa is in marriage negotiations with Tokugawa Ienobu, to arrange a match between his daughter and Yoritomo.” She added, “Ienobu is the shogun’s nephew.”

“I’ve heard that he’s the man most likely to succeed the shogun,” Reiko said, disturbed.

“So have I,” Lady Wakasa said. “The shogun will die eventually. If Yoritomo marries into Ienobu’s family, then Yanagisawa has a chance to control the regime for another term.”

And Sano would have to fight Yanagisawa at an even greater disadvantage. “In that case, it’s all the more important that we find the best possible match for-”

Reiko stopped because she saw Masahiro standing in the doorway, holding a bamboo scroll container. She didn’t like to talk about his marriage prospects in front of him. She didn’t want him to hear himself discussed as if he were a commodity for sale, which buyers rejected. But he had a talent for sensing when something important was happening. He would appear on the scene before Reiko knew he was there.

Lady Wakasa understood. “I’d better go.” She rose, grimacing as her stiff joints creaked. On her way out she told Reiko, “Remember what I said: Don’t wait too long.”

Reiko extended her hand to Masahiro and drew him beside her. How tall he was! And how handsome in his white martial arts practice clothes. He didn’t look like her or Sano; he was a blend of their best features, her beauty toughened by Sano’s strength. Reiko beamed with pride and love. “Have you finished your practice?”

“Yes, Mother.” Masahiro asked, “Can’t she find a bride for me?”

Reiko sighed. Masahiro knew everything that went on in the household, despite her efforts to shield him. “Not yet.”