The Samurai's Wife Part 2

"I'll just have to take that chance," Sano said, "because they won't get better by themselves."

He left the house and walked uphill through walled pa.s.sages and security checkpoints to the shogun's palace. Inside, guards admitted him to the formal audience chamber, a long room lit by metal lanterns suspended from the ceiling. All the windows and doors were shut, the heat and smoky atmosphere stifling. On the dais sat the shogun, dressed in dark robes and cylindrical black cap. Attendants awaited orders. In the place of honor at the shogun's right, on the upper of two descending levels of the floor, knelt Chamberlain Yanagisawa. Both men silently watched Sano approach them. The shogun's mild, aristocratic face wore a pensive frown. Veiled hostility shimmered in Yanagisawa's dark, liquid gaze.

Frustration sharpened Sano's anger at the chamberlain. By airing his grievances with Yanagisawa there to oppose him, he risked immediate defeat in the opening round of battle, but if he waited until he could get Tokugawa Tsunayoshi alone, Yanagisawa's next attack might succeed first.

"Ahh, Sosakan Sano." The shogun beckoned with his fan. His voice was distant, unfriendly. "Come. Join us."

"Thank you, Your Excellency." As Sano knelt in his customary spot on the upper level at the shogun's left and bowed to his lord, trepidation chilled him. Surely he was in trouble, and he thought he knew why. Bowing to Yanagisawa, he said, "Good evening, Honorable Chamberlain."

"Good evening," Yanagisawa said in a cold, polite tone.

"I've brought you here for two important reasons," the shogun said to Sano. "First, I regret to say that I am most, ahh, disappointed in your failure to capture the Lion of the Kanto. I have just been informed that you and your men were drinking and smoking in a tobacco shop tonight, and, ahh, accidentally set it on fire, while unbeknown to you, the Lion was right across the street! Your gross inept.i.tude forced Chamberlain Yanagisawa to step in and capture the Lion himself. He has displayed the, ahh, wits and initiative that you lack."

With horror, Sano saw his suspicions confirmed. Yanagisawa had twisted the truth to his own advantage, stealing credit for solving the case. The shogun, perhaps not the brightest dictator in the world, often misunderstood situations; he remained ignorant of the animosity between Sano and Yanagisawa. He was also too ready to believe whatever Yanagisawa told him. Although Bushido forbade Sano to contradict his lord, he had to amend this bizarre distortion of the facts.

"It wasn't exactly like that," he began cautiously.

Chamberlain Yanagisawa's suave voice cut in: "Are you saying that His Excellency has made a mistake and presuming to correct him?"

Sano was indeed, but when he saw displeasure darken the shogun's face, he said quickly, "No, of course not. I would just like to present my version of events."

Tokugawa Tsunayoshi silenced him with a raised hand. "There is no need. The, ahh, truth is evident. You failed in your duty. My faith in you has been, ahh, sadly misplaced."

The undeserved reproach wounded Sano. How unfair that one failure-which wasn't his fault-should negate everything he'd done right in the past! Although furious at Yanagisawa for thwarting his attempt to defend himself, he realized that persisting would only worsen Tsunayoshi's disapproval. He bowed his head. "My deepest apologies, Your Excellency."

Shame and dread sickened him as he suffered the blow to his honor and faced the likelihood of losing his post, and probably his life.

"However," the shogun said, "I have decided to give you a chance to ameliorate your, ahh, disgrace."

The prospect of a reprieve gladdened Sano, as did the sudden anxiety he sensed behind Yanagisawa's neutral expression. His defeat wasn't sealed, as the chamberlain had obviously hoped.

"This brings me to my second reason for summoning you," the shogun said.

He nodded to a servant, who left the room and immediately returned with a samurai clad in an armor tunic with red Tokugawa crests on the breastplate. The samurai knelt on the lower level and bowed.

"This is Captain Mori," the shogun said. "He is an envoy from the office of my, ahh, shoshidai in Miyako."

The old capital, unlike other cities, was governed not by a provincial daimyo-feudal lord-but by a special deputy. This shoshidai was always a Tokugawa relative whose rank and trustworthiness merited this important position.

After introducing Sano and Yanagisawa, the shogun continued, "The captain has just arrived with some disturbing news. Ahh..." Memory or words failed Tsunayoshi, and he gestured to the newcomer. "Repeat what you told me."

Captain Mori said, "Sixteen days ago, Konoe Bokuden, the imperial minister of the left, died suddenly. He was only forty-eight, and in good health. The court officials who reported his death were vague about how it occurred. Foul play seems a possibility. The shoshidai has begun an inquiry, but under the circ.u.mstances, he thought it best to seek advice from Edo."

Hope and apprehension rose in Sano as he realized that the shogun was going to send him to Miyako to investigate the death. A new case offered a welcome opportunity to reclaim his honor and reputation. Yet Sano didn't want to go away, leaving Chamberlain Yanagisawa free to menace Reiko and undermine his influence with Tokugawa Tsunayoshi.

"Even if Left Minister Konoe's death was murder, isn't the shoshidai's police force in charge of handling all crimes in Miyako?" Sano said, stalling to delay the order he couldn't disobey. "May I ask why this matter concerns Your Excellency?"

Granted, the Imperial Court occupied a unique position in j.a.pan. The emperor was revered by citizens as a descendant of the Shinto G.o.ds who had created the universe. He had the sole power to give official sanction to the nation's government.

Eighty-eight years ago, Emperor Go-Yozei had named Tokugawa Ieyasu shogun, conferring divine legitimacy upon the regime. However, the current emperor had no role in governing j.a.pan, or authority over the bakufu. Other than mundane duties a.s.sociated with running the palace compound, court n.o.bles such as Left Minister Konoe performed a strictly ceremonial function. They were mere symbols of the real power their ancestors had once wielded from behind the throne. Konoe's death, however mysterious, should hold no personal interest for Tokugawa Tsunayoshi, who never went to Miyako, or the Edo bakufu, which delegated the administration of court affairs to its local representatives.

"There's more to the, ahh, situation than one might think, Sosakan Sano." The shogun sighed unhappily. "Left Minister Konoe was a secret agent of the metsuke."

The metsuke was the Tokugawa intelligence network. It gathered information from all over j.a.pan, monitoring citizens whose activities might pose a threat to Tokugawa supremacy. Sano, though startled to learn that an imperial n.o.ble had been a spy, couldn't miss the implications of this possible murder.

"Fifteen years ago, Left Minister Konoe killed a man," Captain Mori said. "He would have been tried, convicted, and executed, but we had a better use for him." Sano interpreted this to mean that the bakufu had hushed up the murder and recruited Konoe to inform on his a.s.sociates. "Perhaps his death is related to that crime, or troubles within the Imperial Court."

"Or maybe it had to do with his secret life as a spy," Sano said, wondering how to protect his family and his interests during an absence from Edo. "Left Minister Konoe might have discovered something worth killing him to hide." History had shown that the Imperial Court, even when powerless, was a constant potential source of trouble, which the bakufu monitored for reasons inherent in the nature of j.a.panese government. "This is a serious matter. However, Your Excellency..."

"Yes, it is indeed serious," the shogun interrupted. "My regime may be in great danger. That is why I am sending you to uncover the, ahh, truth about Left Minister Konoe's death. You must solve the mystery and, ahh, neutralize any potential threats."

Sano glanced at Yanagisawa. The chamberlain's eyes had acquired a familiar opaque look that struck a chord of dread in Sano. Surely Yanagisawa was planning a new scheme against him.

"A thousand thanks for your generosity," Sano said to the shogun. "My only concern is about what might happen here while I'm gone."

While Sano sought words to explain his situation, the shogun said, "Much as I hate to see you go, I'm afraid I must make the, ahh, sacrifice. If a, ahh, problem arises while you're away, your chief retainer shall handle any necessary investigation."

Sano was ready to spill the whole story of his relationship with Chamberlain Yanagisawa and beg the shogun for mercy. Then Yanagisawa said, "Your Excellency, I commend the brilliance of your idea." He projected the whole force of his personality into his warm, sincere voice. "I predict that we shall all be glad you decided to send Sosakan Sano to Miyako."

Tsunayoshi beamed, but when he turned back to Sano, distrust shaded his eyes. A smile hovered upon Yanagisawa's lips. Now Sano lost his meager hope of persuading the shogun to curb Yanagisawa's destructive machinations. Tonight's events had strengthened the bond between the shogun and Yanagisawa too much. The only way for Sano to regain the shogun's favor-or survive to defeat Yanagisawa-was to carry out the a.s.signment with unstinting obedience and great success.

"I've already sent a messenger ahead to inform the Miyako authorities that you are coming," the shogun told Sano. "Now go and, ahh, prepare for a quick departure."

"Yes, Your Excellency," Sano said, bowing.

As he walked homeward down the castle's winding pa.s.sages, ahead of him stretched the fifteen days to Miyako and fifteen back, plus however long the investigation took. How he would miss Reiko's company and advice! To leave her in Edo, at the mercy of Chamberlain Yanagisawa, was unthinkable, even though she would have the protection of Sano's troops and her powerful father. Then, as Sano entered the Official Quarter, a sudden idea elated him. It posed inherent difficulties, but it seemed a blessed solution.

In the bathchamber, Reiko scrubbed her body with rice-bran soap while two maids washed her hair. Then she sat in the deep, sunken tub, waiting for the warm water to rinse her clean, melt the tension from her muscles, and soothe her thoughts. But worry prevented relaxation. The smoke bomb had terrified her, and why had the shogun summoned Sano?

In working together on investigations, Reiko and her husband had become closer than traditional samurai couples in which the man handled business affairs and the woman tended the home. Even when apart, Reiko and Sano had a special sense of each other. Now this sense warned Reiko that something had gone wrong for Sano. She wished she could have accompanied him to his meeting with the shogun so she would know what had happened, but the flaw in their partnership was that she could never go everywhere Sano did, or fully exercise her talents. Sometimes she regretted the unusual upbringing that had destined her for discontent.

She was the beloved only child of the widowed Magistrate Ueda, who'd provided her the education usually accorded a son. She'd excelled at reading, calligraphy, mathematics, history, philosophy, law, political theory, the Chinese cla.s.sics, and the martial arts. As a young girl, she'd dreamed of a future filled with adventure. She'd scorned the lot of women, who existed only to wed, serve their husbands, and raise children in homebound seclusion. Fortunately, she'd avoided this fate by marrying Sano. After some initial reluctance, he'd welcomed her help with his work. But too often, she ended up waiting at home, yearning for the freedom and authority granted to men.

Now Reiko was too restless to sit idle. She climbed out of the tub. As the maids dried her with towels, rubbed fragrant oil into her skin, and combed her hair, Reiko's thoughts moved to another matter that had occupied her mind recently.

Tradition decreed that a wife's most important duty was to provide her husband with an heir. Despite her unconventional nature, Reiko accepted her responsibility, and she wanted children born of her love for Sano. However, almost a year had pa.s.sed since their wedding. Although Sano had never broached the subject, Reiko knew he yearned for a son, and she'd begun to worry. Surely conception should have occurred by now. Was she barren?

Then, last month, she'd missed her time of female bleeding. She hoped she was pregnant, but hadn't told Sano because she didn't want to risk disappointing him. If she missed her next bleeding, she would give him the good news.

She was sitting in the bedchamber, wrapped in a white silk dressing gown and drying her hair in the night breeze, when Sano returned. "What happened?" she cried.

Sano knelt beside her. As he described how Chamberlain Yanagisawa had stolen credit for capturing the Lion, and the shogun's rebuke, Reiko's heart sank. The blow to her husband's honor struck deep in her own spirit.

"However, I have a chance to set things right," Sano continued. He explained about the death of the Imperial Court n.o.ble, then said, "The shogun is sending me to Miyako to investigate."

Dismay stunned Reiko; she could hardly appreciate the reprieve from disaster. Miyako was so far away. They'd never been apart for more than a few days, and an extended separation seemed unbearable to contemplate. Tears stung her eyes. Still, she knew how much this investigation meant to Sano. She mustn't burden him with her unhappiness.

Averting her face, she rose, murmuring, "I'd better pack your things."