Shinju

of the crowds and the size of the estate. An alley divided the Nius’ property from their neighbors‘. Just inside it, Sano dismounted.

The alley was long and narrow, its darkness relieved only by scattered light from lanterns on the side street, and the fainter radiance of the stars. As Sano led his horse deeper into the alley, he watched and listened. He met no one. No sound came from inside the walls, or at least none that rose above the muted noise from the streets. The Nius’ rear gate faced that of its neighbor. Neither was guarded. Here he might enter the yashiki undetected-if enter it he could.

Sano contemplated the wall. Its smooth plaster-and-tile surface offered no handholds. Above it, the barred windows of the barracks stood high out of his reach. The barracks themselves extended without interruption along the wall, except where they rose slightly to form a guardhouse above the heavy timber gate. Then Sano raised his eyes higher. Ah, yes…

Elaborate curved finials crowned the peaks at either end of the guardhouse roof. Sano took the rope out of his cloak. Uncoiling it, he made a loop at one end, which he secured with a slipknot. He looked both ways, saw no one, then tossed the loop at the right-hand finial.

On his first and second tries, the loop missed the finial altogether. Sano began to sweat. The metal mask grew clammy against his face. He tossed the rope again. This time the loop fell over its mark. He pulled on the rope. The knot tightened and held fast.

Sano hesitated, reins in hand. He couldn’t leave his horse here for a patrolling doshin to see. The best thing to do would be to send it away, but he hated to give up his means of escape. Despite the grave risk, he had to bring it through the gate once he got inside.

He dropped the reins over a post. Grasping the rope, he began to climb the wall, bracing his feet against it. The effort made the pain in his shoulders flare. He squeezed his eyes half-shut against it, wincing. A warm trickle down his back told him that his wounds had begun to bleed again. The coarse rope burned his hands. Certainly the wall hadn’t seemed so high from below! At last he reached the guardhouse roof. Panting, he lay there, unable to move. If someone caught him now, he would have to surrender without a fight. When he recovered enough strength to lift his head, he looked down into the estate.

Dark buildings lay beyond a wide, dark stretch of open ground. Nothing moved or made a sound. Everyone had either left for the evening, or else they were up in the front part of the estate. But for how long?

Quickly Sano untied the rope and stuffed it back inside his cloak. He didn’t want to leave evidence of his clandestine entry, and he might need it again. Then he slid on his belly down the sloping roof. Gripping the eaves, he lowered himself backward into the estate.

He was about to drop when he heard quick footsteps and men’s voices outside the wall. The Nius’ guards! If they heard him land, they would investigate the noise. Hands locked on the eaves, he dangled high above the ground.

The footsteps drew closer. Sano’s hands and arms began to ache, then to shudder with fatigue. Spasms of pain gripped them, traveling to his wounded shoulders. He clenched his teeth and hung on. Now he could make out the men’s words.

“This place is quieter than a grave.”

“Well, we’ll just make a quick check, then go back out front.”

Sano recognized the second voice. Not a stranger’s, but worse: the doshin. The thought of his horse, standing in plain sight in front of the Nius’ gate, gave him no comfort whatsoever. Trying to will away pain and fear, he prayed for his pursuers to leave.

Then the doshin said, “There’s nobody here. Let’s go.”

The footsteps and voices faded. Sano silently thanked the gods for incompetent police. How lucky for him that this particular doshin was as careless when chasing fugitives as when investigating arson! He let go of the eaves.

Hard earth flew up and struck him. He flexed his knees and did a backward somersault to keep his legs from breaking. His deepest, most painful wound-the one on his left shoulder-took the full weight of his body. A scream of agony almost burst from him. He stifled it by biting the inside of his cheek so hard that he tasted blood. His eyes watered as he forced himself to stand.

Sliding back the gate’s heavy iron beams, he opened it and brought his horse inside. He tied the horse to the gate. Then, hoping it would be there when-if-he returned, he started toward the house.

With the problems of entering the yashiki and hiding the horse dealt with, Sano faced a whole new set of difficulties. How would he find the scroll? Was it even in the house at all? Was he correct in assuming that Lord Niu, wanting to keep the prized secret document safe and near, would have brought it back to town with him? Even if he did manage to escape with the scroll, how would he reach the higher authorities without being caught and killed? He thrust the last daunting thought aside. He would deal with each problem as it arose. First he must find Lord Niu’s quarters in the vast, unfamiliar mansion.

He hurried across the bare expanse of what appeared to be a riding ground. Feeling conspicuous and vulnerable in spite of the darkness, he skirted a pond where the daimyo’s men practiced swimming and fighting in armor. The sudden sight of two figures looming at him out of the blackness made him skid to a stop, heart in his throat. Then he recognized them as man-shaped archery targets. He reached the buildings weak with relief, but already anticipating the dangers ahead.

The first came when he passed the stables. Along with the stamping and snorting of the horses, he heard laughter; lamps burned in the grooms’ quarters. He also saw lights in what must be retainers’ and servants’ wings. Ducking beneath the windows, Sano stole between the buildings. He crossed a garden like the one he’d seen on his first visit to the estate, and came at last to the great sprawling bulk of the mansion.

Its white walls shone eerily in the starlight. Above them, multiple roofs rose and fell like dark waves. Sano could see that the mansion was not one building but many, connected by low walls or covered corridors. He realized that the estate’s layout was vastly more complex than that of the Nius’ summer villa. How would he ever find Lord Niu’s quarters, let alone the scroll?

The nearest gate led him to a narrow path that ran between the blank, solid walls of fireproof storehouses. He followed this until it dead-ended, forcing him to turn left. A wider path took him between high wooden fences with tiled rooftops rising above them, angling again and again. Sano soon lost all sense of direction. He could only hope that he was moving toward the center of the mansion reserved for the daimyo’s family. The walls muted and distorted sound. Was he getting closer to the boulevard, or farther away? Were those voices coming from outside the estate, or from someone on the path behind or ahead of him? At each subsequent corner he paused for a longer interval, listening, but not trusting his ears.

Then a gate appeared in the fence. Standing to one side, Sano pushed on it. It swung open with a shriek that made him cringe. He peered inside to see a spacious garden surrounded on three sides by buildings with wide, covered verandas. A single lantern over each doorway threw weak light onto the pond, bushes, and pavilion. No lights burned in any of the windows, and Sano could see nothing to indicate exactly who lived in these rooms. They might belong to family members, or to high-ranking attendants. But even if Lord Niu’s chambers lay elsewhere, getting inside would give Sano access to the rest of the mansion.

The garden’s trees and shrubs shielded him as he advanced on the nearest building. Reaching the veranda, he tried a door. Locked. He jiggled, then shoved it, knowing that locks in even expensive homes tended to be flimsy. Why waste money on locks when roving patrols usually did a much better job maintaining security? But the door held firm. His efforts to pry it open failed; the point of his short sword wouldn’t fit into the hairline crack between door and frame. He tried the other doors with no better luck, then turned to the windows.

These were covered with thin, closely spaced wooden bars. He selected one farthest from the lighted doorways and used his sword to pry away the bars. They broke in a series of sharp snaps that he hoped anyone inside would mistake for firecrackers. He cut and tore away the paper windowpane and looked through the jagged hole.

An empty corridor led past a series of closed doors separated by long expanses of paper-and-wood wall. Still clutching his sword, Sano climbed through the window. Stealthily he crossed the corridor and slid open a door. This led to an inner corridor, darker and also empty, with more doors opening off it. As he entered it, his elation over getting into the house faded.

Flowery perfume scented the air. In the nearest room, he saw the dark shapes of furniture that looked to be chests and dressing tables. The faint light from the doorway lanterns reflected off a tall mirror and gleamed on the