The Dragon King's Palace

5

At dawn, a sun like an immense drop of blood floated up from the eastern hills outside Edo and shimmered in the white haze that veiled the sky. The discordant peals of bells in temples called priests to morning rites and roused the townspeople from slumber. As birds shrilled in the trees within Edo Castle ’s stone walls, guards opened the massive ironclad gate. Out came Hirata with Detectives Fukida and Marume. Fukida was a brooding, serious samurai in his twenties; Marume, a decade older, had a jovial countenance and a powerful build. They and Hirata rode horses laden with saddlebags for their journey to the scene of the abduction. Disguised as rōnin, they wore old cotton robes, wide wicker hats, and no sign of their rank, in the hope that they could blend with other travelers and secretly track down the kidnappers.

Instead of following the main boulevard west to the Tōkaidō, Hirata led his men along a road into the daimyo district south of the castle. “One quick stop may save us a long search,” he said.

The heat of day vanquished night’s fleeting coolness as the city awakened to life. Mounted samurai thronged the wide avenue of daimyo estates, mansions surrounded by barracks constructed of white plaster walls decorated with black tiles. Porters delivered bales of rice and produce to feed thousands of daimyo clan members and retainers. Hirata, Marume, and Fukida dismounted outside an estate that numbered among the largest. The gate boasted red beams and a multitiered roof; a white banner above the portals bore a dragonfly crest. Hirata approached a sentry stationed in one of the twin guardhouses.

“Is Lord Niu home?” Hirata said.

The guard glanced at Hirata’s shabby garments, sneered, and said, “Who’s asking?” Then he did a double take as he recognized Hirata. He leapt to his feet and bowed. “My apologies. Yes, the Honorable Lord Niu is in.”

“I want to see him,” Hirata said in a voice tight with controlled anger.

“Certainly,” the guard said, and opened the gate. “I’ll tell him you’re here.”

“Never mind. I’ll tell him myself.”

Hirata stalked through the gate; Fukida and Marume followed him into a courtyard. Here samurai patrolled and guardrooms contained an arsenal of swords, spears, and lances. As they entered another gate that led beyond the officers’ barracks, Hirata burned with ill will toward Lord Niu.

History had lain the foundations for their strife. Lord Niu was an “outside daimyo,” whose clan had been defeated by the Tokugawa faction during the Battle of Sekigahara and forced to swear allegiance to the victors almost a hundred years ago. Hirata came from a Tokugawa vassal family. Although most other daimyo accepted Tokugawa rule without rancor, Lord Niu hated the exorbitant taxes he had to pay, and the laws that required him to spend four months each year in Edo and his family to stay there as hostages to his good behavior while he was home in his province. He also hated anyone associated with the regime-including Hirata. The daimyo had opposed the match between Hirata and Midori, who hadn’t bowed to his wishes as tradition required. Their love for each other-and the child that was already on the way before the marriage negotiations began-had necessitated desperate action.

Hirata had tricked Lord Niu into consenting to the marriage, and the daimyo had never forgiven him. Lord Niu had vowed to separate the couple and sworn vengeance against Hirata. All Hirata’s attempts to placate Lord Niu had met with failure. And because of what Hirata had learned about Lord Niu since marriage joined their clans, he believed the daimyo to be the best suspect in the massacre and kidnapping.

He and his men entered the mansion, a labyrinthine complex of buildings connected by covered corridors and intersecting tile roofs and raised on granite foundations. They burst into Lord Niu’s private chamber.

Lord Niu, clad in a dressing gown, knelt on the tatami while a valet shaved his crown with a long razor. Near them sat the daimyo’s chief retainer, a dour, homely man named Okita. Guards stood by the walls. Everyone looked up at Hirata and the detectives in surprise.

“Where is she?” demanded Hirata.

Lord Niu demanded, “What are you doing here?”

He was a short man in his fifties, with swarthy skin and broad shoulders. His most remarkable feature was the asymmetry of his face. The right half was a distorted reflection of the other. The left eye focused on Hirata and blazed with hatred; the right contemplated distant space.

“I want to know where my wife is,” Hirata said, planting himself in front of his father-in-law, despite the creeping uneasiness that Lord Niu always inspired in him. Detectives Marume and Fukida stood behind Hirata.

“How should I know?” Lord Niu regarded Hirata with puzzlement and hostility. “You stole her from me. It’s up to you to keep track of her. Why do you come in here at this early hour, without my permission, to ask ridiculous questions?”

Had anyone else reacted this way, Hirata might have believed he was telling the truth, but Lord Niu was crafty and dishonest. “Midori, Lady Keisho-in, Lady Yanagisawa, and Lady Reiko were abducted yesterday,” Hirata said.

“What?” Lord Niu’s eyebrows shot up; he leaned forward. “How did this happen?”

As Hirata explained, he observed that Lord Niu’s shock appeared genuine. But if he’d arranged the ambush, he would have expected Hirata to come, and prepared to feign innocence. Hirata glanced at the daimyo’s men. The guards and Okita looked wary, and Hirata decided they hadn’t been aware of the crime. Their master often acted without their knowledge.

“Tell me what you did with the women,” Hirata said.

“You think I took them?” Lord Niu rose so fast that he almost knocked over his valet, who’d ceased trying to shave him. He faced Hirata with an incredulous stare.

“Yes,” Hirata said.

“Well, I didn’t,” Lord Niu declared. “Why would I do a thing like that?”

“You want to separate Midori from me and break the union between our clans,” Hirata said. “The Council of Elders expects the ransom instructions to demand money, but I know better. You want to force the shogun to dissolve my marriage.”

Lord Niu looked dumbfounded. “However much I hate you, I did not massacre a Tokugawa procession or kidnap the shogun’s mother. You’re not worth risking execution for murder and treason.” His voice turned contemptuous; his hand shot out and shoved Hirata. “Only a madman would go to such great lengths for a feud with the likes of you.”

That Lord Niu was the madman, Hirata had come to realize when the daimyo had begun pursuing vengeance against him. “You’ve already gone to great lengths,” Hirata said. “When Midori came here for her ritual visit after our wedding, you locked her in and threatened to kill her unless I divorced her.” The memory fueled Hirata’s anger toward Lord Niu. “You didn’t let her out until I showed up with troops and forced you to give my wife back to me.”

“She wanted to stay,” Lord Niu lied brazenly. “You took her against her will.”

“A month later, you pretended to forgive me and invited me to a banquet,” Hirata continued. “I sat beside you while we ate and drank. That night I fell ill with terrible stomach cramps, diarrhea, and vomiting. No one else at the party got sick. The Edo Castle physician said I’d been poisoned. You did it. You tried to murder me.”

“That’s vicious slander.” Lord Niu puffed himself up in indignation. “You just can’t hold your liquor.”

“And this spring, a band of assassins attacked me in town,” Hirata said. “My men and I fought them, and they ran away-but not before I got a good look at them.” Hirata pointed to a hatchet-faced guard standing by the window. “That’s their leader. Too bad for you that your men are inept cowards.”

The guard bristled at the insult and took a step toward Hirata. A warning look from Lord Niu halted him. Lord Niu folded his arms in defiance; his left eye glared at Hirata, while his right dreamed. He said, “You’re mistaken. Those weren’t my men you saw. They must have been some of your other enemies. And I’ve had enough of your false accusations.”

Yet Hirata had even more evidence that Lord Niu would shed blood to satisfy a grudge. When Hirata had asked Midori about her father’s behavior, she’d confessed that he’d always had a wild, violent, unreasonable nature. Lord Niu had vented his ire at the Tokugawa by beating his concubines, fighting his retainers, rampaging through his province, and slaughtering innocent peasants. Furthermore, Sano had told Hirata about the daimyo’s youngest son, now dead, who’d committed such extreme treason that he couldn’t have been sane. The clan had hushed up Lord Niu’s excesses to protect him, and the bakufu had hushed up the treason rather than allow the public to know the regime was vulnerable to attack. Hirata now belonged to a select group of people who knew madness ran in the Niu family. And he believed that Lord Niu’s rage against him had worsened the madness and driven Lord Niu to abduct Lady Keisho-in and slaughter her entourage.

“I’ve had enough of your denials,” Hirata said, advancing on Lord Niu. “I want to know what you’ve done with Midori-san and her friends.”

Though Lord Niu stood only as high as Hirata’s shoulder, his crooked sneer was intimidating. “I couldn’t have abducted them. I’ve been here in Edo the whole time. They’ll tell you.” He jerked his chin toward his men.

“It’s true,” Okita said in a firm, matter-of-fact voice. The valet and guards nodded. “He didn’t do it. He never even left the estate.”

This alibi didn’t convince Hirata. Those men owed their loyalty to Lord Niu, had dutifully stood by him through all the evils he’d done, and would lie to protect him. “Then you must have sent troops or hired mercenaries so you could keep your hands clean,” Hirata said.

Anger surged in him, and not just because he thought Lord Niu had kidnapped Midori. The daimyo had been draining enjoyment from his marriage and his anticipation of fatherhood. His heart was thudding, his hands itching to pound the truth out of Lord Niu. He paced around the daimyo, who revolved, glaring at him.

“That is a lie,” Lord Niu sputtered. “I didn’t order the kidnapping. How could I have, when I had no idea the women were going on that trip?”

“Don’t pretend you didn’t know,” Hirata said, circling Lord Niu, growing angrier by the moment. “You have spies at Edo Castle because you’re deluded enough to think the Tokugawa are plotting war against you-even though they wouldn’t disrupt the peace they’ve maintained for almost a century. You must have heard about Lady Keisho-in’s plans.”

“How dare you mock me?” Lord Niu clenched and unclenched his hands, as though eager to strangle Hirata. “Why do you waste time accusing me, instead of hunting the real culprit?”

Their mutual antagonism vibrated in the atmosphere. The guards rested their hands on their sword hilts; Marume and Fukida hovered alert, anticipating battle.

“May I suggest that there has been a misunderstanding?” Okita said cautiously. His main duty was to control Lord Niu and defuse situations that could ignite the daimyo’s temper, Hirata knew. “Perhaps if we all sit down and have some tea, we can resolve our differences.”

Lord Niu ignored his retainer. He froze, and a look of horrified comprehension nearly aligned the halves of his face. “Oh, I see what’s going on,” he said to Hirata. “This is another of your schemes against me.” Lord Niu clung to the conviction that Hirata was out to get him, despite Hirata’s assurances that all he wanted was a truce. “You want me gone forever, and my honor disgraced-and what better way than to brand me a traitor?” The daimyo jabbed a finger into Hirata’s chest. “You kidnapped the women yourself, to frame me!”

“What?” Shock halted Hirata and dropped his mouth. How Lord Niu twisted reality never ceased to amaze him. “But I didn’t-surely you can’t believe-”

“Don’t deny it,” Lord Niu said, his complexion purple with fury. “You and the shogun hatched the scheme together. You arranged the crime. You used my daughter to implicate me. The shogun plans to execute me for abducting his mother, then confiscate my lands.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Hirata protested.

“What did he promise you in exchange for your help, you dirty sneak?” Lord Niu seized Hirata by the front of his kimono. “A portion of my wealth? My province to rule?”

Outraged, Hirata wrenched free of Lord Niu. “I would never frame anyone for murder and treason. Even though you deserve punishment for everything you’ve done to me, I would never conspire against my wife’s father. You’re just trying to divert suspicion from yourself onto me!”

“See how he pretends to be innocent,” Lord Niu said to the assembly, his voice filled with scorn. “See how he pretends to believe he thinks I’m guilty. See how he eagerly anticipates my ruin. But you won’t get away with it.”

Suddenly he lunged at Hirata. The impact of his body knocked Hirata off balance. He reeled backward and crashed against a wall.

The painted landscape mural cracked. Lord Niu’s hands closed around his neck and squeezed.

“Where are my daughter and Lady Keisho-in?” Lord Niu shouted while Hirata choked and struggled to pry the daimyo’s hands loose. “Tell me what you’ve done with them.”

That Lord Niu had turned him into the suspect, and usurped the role of interrogator, astounded Hirata. Detectives Fukida and Mar-ume hurried to his rescue, but Okita got there first. Okita grabbed the daimyo and hauled him off Hirata. While Hirata gasped for air, Lord Niu flung Okita away from him. His gaze lit on his valet, who hunched, terrified, on the floor near him. He snatched the shaving razor from the man’s hand.

“I’ll make you admit your evil deeds!” Lord Niu roared. He charged at Hirata.

Compelled to defend himself, goaded beyond prudence, Hirata drew his sword. He could tolerate no more of Lord Niu’s craziness, insults, or attacks. As hot anger overrode self-control, Hirata almost forgot why he’d come here. He would end this war now, regardless of the consequences.

Then Marume and Fukida caught hold of him, arresting his flight toward the daimyo. “No, Hirata-san!” they shouted.

The guards rushed and seized Lord Niu. Trained to protect people from their master, and their master from himself, they gripped his thrashing limbs. He cursed and fought them, but they wrested the razor from his hand and restrained him.

“You’ll pay for setting me up, you despicable lout!” he yelled at Hirata. “I’ll slice your guts!”

“Come on, let’s go,” Marume said. He and Fukida dragged Hirata from the room.

Now Hirata came to his senses, recalled his purpose. “But I’m not finished.” Wild with rage and distress, he resisted his men; he dragged his feet in the corridor.

“It’s no use,” Fukida said, urging Hirata out of the mansion. “Even if he knows where Midori-san is, he won’t talk. Staying will only get you killed.”

Hirata reluctantly capitulated. Outside the estate, they mounted their horses, and he realized how badly he’d handled the confrontation with Lord Niu. He should have kept calm and treated the daimyo with courtesy instead of losing his temper. Even as he understood that his father-in-law would probably have behaved the same way whatever he’d done, Hirata experienced mortifying shame. “I threw away a chance to solve the case,” he said.

“There will be other chances,” Marume said, swinging himself into the saddle. “Don’t worry-we’ll save Midori-san, no matter what.”

This attempt at reassurance failed to soothe Hirata. As they rode down the street, the sun rising over the roofs of the daimyo estates reminded him that time was quickly passing. And he was no closer to finding his wife now than when he’d heard the news of her abduction.

Fukida spoke with the hesitant air of a man voicing what his superior wouldn’t want to hear: “There’s good reason to believe Lord Niu is the kidnapper… but we can’t prove it. And as you told us Chamberlain Yanagisawa said last night, there is an abundance of suspects. Fixating too early on Lord Niu might steer us in the wrong direction.”

Hirata inhaled and nodded. “You’re right,” he said. “I shouldn’t let my prejudice blind me to the possibility that someone other than Lord Niu took the women.” And unless he disciplined himself, he might jeopardize his mission.

He and the detectives turned their horses onto the boulevard and galloped west. Ahead, the road wound and narrowed toward the invisible horizon; shops, houses, and pedestrians dwindled into a shimmering haze of heat and charcoal smoke. The hills were gray smudges against the bleached blue sky. If the weather held, a day of hard, fast riding should take Hirata and his men to the scene of the massacre and abduction.

“But if Lord Niu is behind the crime, I’ll prove it,” Hirata said, slapping the reins. “And he will pay.”