The Ronin’s Mistress

him. He’d lost so much weight that his body was like a skeleton under his dark green silk robe. Sharp bones protruded through the waxen skin of his face. His eyes were underlined by shadows, his lips raw. Sano thought of Oishi and Chikara. He wondered if Yanagisawa would trade places with them if he could. If Masahiro died, could Sano bear to live?

The shogun minced onto the dais, accompanied by two adolescent boys. When he sat, they knelt on either side of him. Their rosy, sweet faces and bland smiles were identical. One of the rumors was true, Sano noted. The shogun had twins as his new favorites. Sano glanced at Yanagisawa. How terrible for him to see that Yoritomo had been replaced so quickly!

As Yanagisawa bowed to the shogun, he appeared indifferent to everything except his own pain. Sano bowed, too, observing that another of the rumors was false: The shogun wasn’t dying; rather, he looked healthier than usual. The cut on his neck had healed. His holiday from court responsibilities had done him good.

“Forgive me for, ahh, making you wait such a long time to see me.” The shogun’s perfunctory smile conveyed how little he cared about anyone’s feelings except his own.

“Yes, Your Excellency,” Sano replied politely, even though the suspense was killing him. Yanagisawa didn’t answer.

“I suppose you, ahh, think I’ve forgotten what happened the last time we were together.” The shogun’s expression turned peevish. “Well, I haven’t.”

Yanagisawa gazed through the shogun as if he weren’t there. Sano braced himself.

“You,” the shogun said, pointing at Sano, “protected me from Kajikawa. And your wife killed him.” He beamed. “She saved me the trouble. You both served me very well indeed.”

Sano was relieved that apparently Reiko wasn’t going to be punished and their family could stay together. The shogun hadn’t drawn a connection between Sano’s investigation and Kajikawa’s desperate act.

“Whereas you-” The shogun bent a pouty glare on Yanagisawa. “You completely, ahh, lost your wits! You made Kajikawa angry. You got yourself gagged so you couldn’t even speak on my behalf. You were worthless!”

Yanagisawa didn’t protest as the shogun said, “I am relieving you of your post as chamberlain. You’ve been, ahh, neglecting your duties lately, anyway.”

Sano had taken them over because the government needed a chamberlain at the helm.

“I am demoting you to the, ahh, position of my third-in-command. You will vacate your residence immediately.” The shogun added spitefully, “Consider yourself fortunate. If not for our long friendship, I would throw you out of my regime altogether.”

The shogun’s callousness had reached an extreme that Sano could hardly believe. Yanagisawa had lost his son, and the shogun hadn’t offered a single word of condolence! Did he not recall that Yoritomo had died trying to save his life? He seemed to have forgotten that Yoritomo had ever existed. His turning against Yanagisawa was insult piled upon injury.

“Yes, Your Excellency.” Yanagisawa’s voice was cracked, bereft of strength, an old man’s.

“Sano-san, you will take over as chamberlain,” the shogun said. “You can move back into your compound. Hirata-san will be chief investigator again.”

As Sano bowed and thanked the shogun, his triumph in his and Hirata’s redemption was spoiled because he pitied Yanagisawa so much.

“That’s all,” the shogun said, stroking the sleek heads of the twins. “You’re dismissed.”

Yanagisawa walked from the room as if in a trance. Sano followed. Outside, Sano started to say how sorry he was about Yoritomo. But the look in Yanagisawa’s eyes silenced him. It was fury, hatred, and bitterness transformed into something deadlier than Sano had ever seen.

Someday you’ll wish your wife had killed me.

Yanagisawa turned and walked away, his message delivered without a word.

* * *

“I have good news,” Lady Wakasa told Reiko. “The Todo daimyo clan is very interested in your proposal. They asked me to arrange a miai. Shall I go ahead?”

“Yes. That’s wonderful! Thank you.” Reiko poured tea and handed Lady Wakasa a cup. Outside her chamber, the garden was radiant with pink cherry blossoms. Masahiro, Akiko, and Hirata’s children ran about, catching falling petals. “What’s the bad news?”

“There isn’t any,” Lady Wakasa said. “Your husband’s fortunes are about to rise, I’ve heard. People are glad he settled the forty-seven ronin business.”

But Reiko couldn’t be happy about the outcome. Forty-seven men were dead, and mourned by those they’d left behind.

The day after their ritual suicide, Reiko had gone to visit Lady Asano and Ukihashi. She’d found the women together at Lady Asano’s convent. When Reiko offered her condolences, Lady Asano said, “I don’t think they should have had to die. But it was their choice, so I can’t complain. I’ll always be grateful to them for avenging my husband.”

“I’m grateful to you, Lady Reiko, for reuniting Oishi and me,” Ukihashi said. “At least we parted in love instead of anger.”

Reiko bowed. “I thank you for your help. Without it, my husband couldn’t have guided the affair to a peaceful ending.” Before she left, she asked, “Will you be all right?”

“Yes,” Ukihashi said, even though tears filled her eyes and Reiko knew she was grieving for her son and husband. “The priests at Sengaku Temple have been very kind. They send me a portion of the alms they collect. My daughters and I don’t need to work anymore.”

Lady Wakasa’s voice drew Reiko back to the present. “What a lucky break for your husband-Yanagisawa lying down and playing dead. Never thought I’d see the day.”

But Reiko couldn’t feel any better about Yanagisawa than she did about the forty-seven ronin. They at least had decided their own fate. Yanagisawa had been struck by the worst catastrophe a parent could imagine, his child’s death. Reiko wouldn’t wish that on anyone.

“I’ll consult my astrologer about an auspicious date for the miai.” Lady Wakasa departed.

The miai was just a formality. The families were already acquainted, and Reiko liked the Todo daughter, a pretty, sweet, intelligent girl. Masahiro was as good as betrothed. At least Reiko could be glad about that. But unfinished business hung over her like a cloud.

When she’d come home after the incident at the palace, she’d found that Okaru had left. Reiko hadn’t seen Okaru since. She wondered what had become of the girl and felt guilty about the way she’d treated her. And although the tension between Reiko and Masahiro had eased, she knew he missed Okaru.

Lieutenant Tanuma entered the room. “There’s a visitor asking to see you. It’s Okaru. She’s down at the castle gate.”

Reiko was surprised; it seemed as if her thoughts had summoned the girl. “Bring her in.”

Soon Okaru arrived. “Lady Reiko!” Arms flung wide, she smiled as if they’d parted on the friendliest terms. “I’m so happy to see you again.” She knelt and bowed.

“I’m happy to see you looking so well,” Reiko said, relieved because Okaru had apparently not suffered since she’d left. In fact, Okaru was lovelier than ever. Her cheeks were as rosy as the cherry blossoms printed on her new kimono. “Where have you been?”

“Goza and I went back to the inn. The proprietor let us stay because nobody knows we’re there.” Okaru smiled ruefully. “I’ve learned my lesson about talking to news-sellers.”

“But how…?”

“How can we afford it? Oh, Goza has a job at a teahouse that has women’s sumo wrestling matches.” Okaru added, “She was wrestling the night your father was attacked.”

That was one more mystery solved. Here was Goza’s alibi, and the reason for the blood on her clothes, which Masahiro had told Reiko about.

“We couldn’t tell you because women’s sumo was against the law then, and we were afraid she would get in trouble,” Okaru explained. The government periodically issued edicts against sumo, which were later rescinded.

“Why does Goza have tattoos on her wrist?” Reiko asked. Masahiro had told her about that, too.

“She was arrested for stealing food when she was a child. But soon she won’t need to steal or work to