Bundori: A Novel Of Japan

chest. “I’m your commanding officer, Chugo. Let me go!” Panic robbed his order of authority. “Guards! Help!”

His thoughts in a hopeless tangle, Sano cast wildly about for a way to subdue Chugo without harming Yanagisawa. He saw the reckless determination in Chugo’s eyes, and Chugo’s unwavering hand forcing the sword ever closer to Yanagisawa’s face. He sensed the entourage’s growing panic. Infusing his voice with a calm authority he didn’t feel, he said, “Chugo-san, he’s your kin- a fellow descendant of General Fujiwara. He’s not your enemy.” Focusing his entire concentration on the captain, Sano was barely aware of the rain streaming over him, or the sudden hush that fell over his audience. “He’s not responsible for Oda Nobunaga’s murder-or for the trap you walked into.”

Chugo neither spoke nor changed expression, but Sano sensed an inner response to General Fujiwara’s and Oda Nobunaga’s names. Now if only no one would interfere.

“I’m the one who tried to prevent you from carrying out your ancestor’s wishes. It’s me you want, Chugo- san.” Sano thumped his chest. “We can settle this, you and I, alone. Kill me, and you’re a free man. The case against you dies with me; the evidence goes with me to my grave.”

Chugo and everyone else remained silent. Blinding cracks of lightning split the heavens; more thunder rattled the ground. Rain fell in great sheets, blurring the city into the drowning sky. Choppy waves smacked the riverbank, and the tossing boats strained their moorings. Then Chugo lowered the sword almost imperceptibly. Encouraged, Sano eased himself into a defensive posture, preparing for Chugo’s assault. Spirit of my father, give me strength!

Then Yanagisawa shouted, “This is all your fault, Sano Ichiro! Guards! Seize him!”

His cry, choked off by Chugo’s encircling grip, thwarted Sano’s attempt to transfer the captain’s malevolence from the chamberlain to himself. Chugo jerked the sword closer to his captive’s face. Yanagisawa screamed, and the entourage became a chaotic mob. Cries of “What shall we do?” and “Let’s get him!” rose from its midst.

“Look out, sosakan-sama!” Hirata stepped between Sano and the advancing horde.

Sano barely registered the threat to himself, for Chugo, his intention unmistakable, was propelling the ranting, cursing Yanagisawa down the path. The bottom dropped out of Sano’s stomach.

“Try to stop me, and I’ll kill him,” Chugo spat.

“You’ll die for this, Sano Ichiro!” Chamberlain Yanagisawa howled, his face wild with anger and terror. “You impertinent lackey, you despicable fool, you-”

“Shut up!” Sano yelled.

The chamberlain did, his mouth agape as Chugo continued to shove him along the path toward the boat. Sano didn’t wait for Yanagisawa to recover from the shock of being addressed so rudely. “Chugo. You can’t escape,” he said. “Soon everyone will know you’re the Bundori Killer. You won’t be safe anywhere.”

He darted in front of Chugo, running backward as the captain bore down at him and Yanagisawa glared in outrage. Beyond them, he could see Hirata trying to hold off Yanagisawa’s shouting, sword-waving entourage.

“If you let the chamberlain go, you’ll be allowed to commit seppuku, or even live under house arrest.” Sano heard himself babbling whatever came into his head. “Endanger him, and you’ll be tortured and executed like a common criminal. Surrender, Chugo. It’s over. Do you hear me? It’s over!”

They reached the Shimizu dock, where Matsui, whom Sano had almost forgotten, lay while his surviving bodyguard pumped water from his lungs. Hastily the guard dragged him out of the way and into the river again.

Giving no sign that he’d heard Sano’s pleas, Chugo made for the gangplank. Frantic to avert disaster, Sano blocked the captain’s way, but Chugo only gripped Yanagisawa tighter. The chamberlain gasped, his hands locked on his captor’s arm, eyes fixed on the blade in front of his face.

“Sheath your weapon,” Chugo ordered Sano. He thrust his sword against Yanagisawa’s lip. The chamberlain screamed as blood welled from the cut and washed away in a flood of rain. “Now get out of my way, or I’ll cut him again.”

“Do as he says,” Yanagisawa pleaded.

Sano sheathed his sword. “Chugo-”

“Move!”

The chamberlain’s retainers swarmed past Hirata and onto the dock. Their shouts rang above the thunder, wind, and rain. Chugo spun around to face them, pulling his prisoner with him.

“Stand back, or he’s a dead man.”

Sano leaped forward, intending to grab Chugo, wrest the sword away, and free Yanagisawa, but the chamberlain’s shriek and the retainers’ fresh outcry stopped him. When Chugo turned back to him, he gasped.

The blade had slashed Yanagisawa’s left eyelid. Blood poured over his face, which had gone completely white. He opened and closed his mouth, but no sounds came out. Then his eyeballs rolled up into his head. His hands let go of Chugo’s arm and dropped. His legs buckled.

“You can’t hurt him, Chugo-san. He’s your lord’s representative.” In growing desperation, Sano appealed to the guard captain’s samurai values. “You’re honor-bound to protect him. Let him go. If you want a hostage, take me instead. Don’t-”

“Move. Now.” Chugo’s gruff command cut him off. The sword now pressed against the limp and unconscious Yanagisawa’s throat.

“Do as he says!” The command issued from Yanagisawa’s entourage.

“Chugo, if you take the boat out in this storm, you’ll both die. Please-”

The words froze on Sano’s tongue when he saw from the captain’s hard, merciless stare that he’d passed beyond reason. With defeat crushing his heart, Sano stepped off the gangplank and out of Chugo’s way. Helplessly he stood on the dock with Hirata and the stunned, silent crowd as Chugo dragged Yanagisawa up the gangplank and aboard the boat. He’d failed in the shogun’s mission; he’d failed to fulfill his promise to his father. The Bundori Killer was escaping, and Sano was responsible for Yanagisawa’s certain death-a disgrace that would result in severe punishment and everlasting dishonor.

With Yanagisawa draped over his arm like a broken puppet, Chugo slashed the boat’s mooring ropes. It drifted free of the dock. He sheathed his sword, then pulled up the gangplank and unfurled the sail. The wind slapped the tall, rectangular hemp-cloth sheet open. The boat rocked and pitched, moving down the river.

Merciful gods, if Chugo managed to get all the way down the Sumida into open sea… The flimsy pleasure craft would never survive the strong currents and rough waves. Not even the most expert crew could maneuver it around the treacherous reefs that had sunk many better ships.

The crowd surged down the path after the boat. Sano groaned as Yanagisawa’s archers let fly a spate of arrows at Chugo, who now stood in the stern, working the ropes stretched from the billowing sail and over the cabin roof. Killing the guard captain now wouldn’t solve the problem: Without a sailor, the boat might founder and sink before they saved Yanagisawa. Sano ran after the entourage.

“No! Get help! The police, the navy-”

No one listened; more arrows flew. Sano saw that he must stop Chugo and rescue Yanagisawa himself. He squeezed past the crowd. Through windblown sheets of rain, he ran down the farthest dock, which the boat was just passing. He heard Hirata yell, “Go, sosakan-sama! I’ll get help!”

Whispering a prayer for strength and courage, Sano gulped a deep breath, then dived headfirst into the river.

Chapter 35

The icy water claimed Sano with a heart-stopping splash. Gasping, he swam through the choppy waves after the boat. His clothes hindered his movements; his swords weighed him down. The rain still poured from the sky; every time he raised his head for a breath, he inhaled as much water as air. His muscles ached, and the cold quickly penetrated to his bones. The tossing swells nauseated him. How different this was from the stylized exercises he’d practiced in the castle training pond, at which he’d never excelled anyway, even when in the best of health. The water, not his natural element, fought his every effort to conquer it. He forced his legs to keep kicking, his arms to keep stroking. A cramp gnawed his left side. The river burbled in his ears, louder than thunder, while lightning