The Perfumed Sleeve

16

Chamberlain Yanagisawa and Lord Matsudaira knelt facing each other in the great audience hall of the palace. Beside the chamberlain sat his chief retainer, Mori; beside Lord Matsudaira sat his nephew, Daiemon. Behind each pair stood attendants and armed guards. Yanagisawa read menace in the somber faces of Lord Matsudaira and Daiemon; he breathed the fiery scent of battle fever in the atmosphere. Neither his high rank nor his bodyguards guaranteed his safety. The law against drawing weapons inside Edo Castle seemed a flimsy barrier to violence. And he saw, among Lord Matsudaira’s minions, one face that reduced the others to a blur.

Police Commissioner Hoshina stood in the first row behind his master. He regarded Yanagisawa with fierce, belligerent defiance. Yanagisawa averted his gaze from the onetime paramour he still loved with a passion and missed every moment.

“Why did you call this meeting?” he asked Lord Matsudaira in a deliberately calm voice.

“I decided that it’s time for a talk about the future,” Lord Matsudaira said, matching his tone.

Was this a hint that Lord Matsudaira wished to negotiate a truce? Although Yanagisawa had serious doubts that they could peaceably settle their differences, he was willing to try. Just today, his spies had sent him word of new enemy troops arriving in Edo. His own position grew more precarious, and Lord Matsudaira’s stronger, as time went on.

“Very well,” he told Lord Matsudaira. “Let’s talk.”

Lord Matsudaira nodded, then said, “If things continue in this direction, a war is inevitable.”

“True.” Yanagisawa felt Hoshina’s gaze piercing him. He realized that Lord Matsudaira knew about their bad blood and had brought Hoshina along to rattle his nerves.

“No man is invincible,” said Daiemon. Cunning and ambition shone on his youthful face; he ignored his uncle’s frown of displeasure that he’d interrupted the conversation. “Do you really want to risk dying in battle, Honorable Chamberlain?”

His sneer mocked Yanagisawa as a coward who feared death more than he wanted supreme power. Yanagisawa glared at Daiemon. Lord Matsudaira raised a hand to silence his nephew.

“Let us presume that neither of us wishes to die,” Lord Matsudaira said. “But let us not presume that the survivor will have an easy time. History has shown us that the result of a civil war is widespread poverty, famine, and disorder. To rule over a land in such condition would be a poor prize for the victor.”

Yanagisawa narrowed his eyes. Surely Lord Matsudaira didn’t expect to persuade him to back down because a war-torn kingdom wasn’t worth having.

“And the victor won’t rule unopposed,” Daiemon said, undaunted by his uncle’s authority. “What makes you think that you could keep our allies-or your own-under your thumb forever?” He grinned, belittling Yanagisawa’s chances of maintaining control over Japan even if he beat Lord Matsudaira.

“What makes you think you could do any better than I?” Yanagisawa forced himself to stay calm. The rude young upstart plagued him worse than did Lord Matsudaira. “You have quite a gift for offending people.”

“My nephew meant no offense, Honorable Chamberlain. Please excuse him.” Lord Matsudaira shot a warning glance at Daiemon, then addressed Yanagisawa in a conciliatory manner: “I didn’t bring you here to bait you. I’d hoped we could find a way to avoid a war that neither of us really wants.”

Yanagisawa would fight Lord Matsudaira to the death if necessary; but his fear for his life inclined him toward negotiation. And although he knew he shouldn’t let affairs of the heart influence his political decisions, he couldn’t help hoping that if they declared a truce, he and Hoshina might somehow reconcile.

“Suppose I do agree that peace is preferable to war,” he said cautiously. “What terms would you propose?”

A glance between Lord Matsudaira and Daiemon conveyed their mutual satisfaction that they’d lured him into bargaining. “I propose that we both disband our armies,” Lord Matsudaira said. “Afterward, we would undertake a reorganization of the government.”

“What sort of reorganization?” Yanagisawa said. He smelled an unfavorable deal, like a bad wind approaching.

“Uemori Yoichi will be promoted to Senior Elder Makino’s position,” said Lord Matsudaira. “The vacant seat on the council will be filled by Goto Kaemon.”

Yanagisawa stared in amazed disbelief. He’d expected Lord Matsudaira to offer him at least some concessions, but he was proposing to overload the nation’s highest governing body with men loyal to himself!

“In addition,” Lord Matsudaira said, “my nephew Daiemon will be appointed premier of the regime. He will oversee the relations between the shogun and his officials.”

Daiemon preened with self-importance. Outrage stunned Yanagisawa. This arrangement would give Lord Matsudaira and Daiemon complete control of the bakufu!

“That’s a very one-sided proposal,” he said sardonically. “What would I get in exchange for agreeing?”

“You would get to keep your position as chamberlain, your residence, and your personal wealth.”

Although Lord Matsudaira spoke as though bestowing a generous gift, Yanagisawa was not prepared to agree to terms that would reduce him to a feeble shadow of himself.

“Your terms are unacceptable,” he spat furiously. “That you would even think I’d consider your proposal is a gross insult to me.”

He surged to his feet. Swords clanked and armor creaked as his entourage stirred behind him. “This discussion is finished,” Yanagisawa announced.

Lord Matsudaira and Daiemon also rose. “Don’t be in such a hurry to reject our deal,” Lord Matsudaira said. All his pretense at conciliation vanished; his manner turned dictatorial. “It’s the best you’re going to get.”

“I’ll take my chances.” Yanagisawa headed for the door.

“You can’t win a war against us,” Daiemon said. Now that his sly barbs had failed to intimidate Yanagisawa, he resorted to outright bluster. “We’ll crush you like an insect.”

Yanagisawa feared that Daiemon was right. He’d never commanded a full-scale war, and his talent for politics didn’t compensate for a lack of military experience. Yet his foes’ eagerness for a truce gave him heart. They’d never fought a war either.

He said, “If you were so sure you can beat me, you wouldn’t have called this meeting.” He locked stares with Daiemon. “And a man in a position as vulnerable as yours should know better than to threaten the man who controls the intelligence service.”

Lord Matsudaira looked puzzled by this remark, but wariness sharpened Daiemon’s features. Yanagisawa smiled as he watched Daiemon recalling that he had dangerous secrets and wondering how much Yanagisawa knew. But instead of showing his hand, Yanagisawa chose to hoard his knowledge for a time when he had even greater need-or better use-for a weapon against Daiemon.

“Now if you’ll excuse me,” Yanagisawa said, “I’ve more important things to do than listen to nonsense.”

“You won’t get another opportunity to save your neck,” Lord Matsudaira said, his fists clenched and his face dark with anger, “I’ll show no more mercy toward you!”

“Nor will I toward you, when we meet on the battlefield,” Yanagisawa retorted. He now realized that there had never been a possibility that he and Lord Matsudaira could reach a truce on terms acceptable to them both. “May the better man win.”

As he strode from the audience hall, his entourage in tow, Yanagisawa glimpsed Hoshina. The hatred in Hoshina’s eyes told him there had never been any chance that they would reconcile. Yanagisawa experienced an awful sense of embarking on a path toward a fatal destiny.

But he projected regal self-confidence as he walked through the castle grounds to his estate. Inside, he secluded himself in his office and sat at the desk. A mere moment passed before his poise shattered. Tremors wracked his muscles; his lungs expelled harsh gasps as he released pent-up tension. His head throbbed painfully from the pressure of the blood inside his skull. With jittering fingers he massaged his temples. Eventually, his body calmed, but his spirit remained troubled by other problems besides Lord Matsudaira.

The murder investigation could destroy him even before a war began. If Sano were to discover that Yanagisawa had known about Senior Elder Makino’s defection, Yanagisawa could find himself the primary suspect in the crime. Lord Matsudaira would leap to influence the shogun and the entire bakufu against him. He could bid farewell to his plans to bring Japan under his control, place his son Yoritomo in line for the succession, and rule the nation through him.

The very thought raised a tide of nausea in Yanagisawa. How could he protect himself against the evil forces closing in on him? As he pondered, he suddenly noticed his wife standing in the doorway.

“What do you want?” he lashed out at her. She was always hanging around him, always spying on him through peepholes that she thought he didn’t know about. He let her spy because he didn’t care. He tolerated her presence because her adoration had been a balm to his pride after Police Commissioner Hoshina had left him. But now she was a convenient target for his frustrations. “Can’t you just leave me alone?”

Her homely face blanched; she shrank from his anger. “I-I’m sorry,” she whispered. “If you don’t want me, I’ll go.” She backed away, her gaze lingering on him, as if wanting to keep him in sight for as long as possible.

Inspiration struck Yanagisawa with a stunning, radiant force. His needs suddenly meshed with the circumstances surrounding him. His scowl relaxed into a smile.

“Wait,”he told her. “Don’t leave. I want you to stay.”

She hesitated, distrusting his change in mood.

“I’m sorry I spoke harshly to you.” Yanagisawa had never before thought to use his charm on his wife, but now he must. “Please forgive me.” Even a devoted slave would balk at what he wanted her to do. To secure her cooperation would require all his persuasive powers. He hastened to her and put his arm around her.

“Come,” he said, leading her into an adjacent chamber comfortably furnished with floor cushions and seascape murals.

He felt her shiver with delight at his touch, and her breathing quickened. As he seated her, she looked up at him, her face dazed, as if unable to believe she was receiving the rare, wonderful gift of his attention. He settled himself opposite her, so close that their knees touched. He poured two cups of wine and placed one in her trembling hands.

“My lord… This is a tremendous honor…” Gasps of awe unsteadied her speech. Her cheeks were flushed.

“It’s no more than you deserve in exchange for your devotion to me,” Yanagisawa said. “And I’m glad we have a chance to talk together.”

She hung on his words, her expression rapt. He drank his wine, and she gulped hers.

“I’m afraid I haven’t been a very good husband,” Yanagisawa said. “I know I’ve neglected you. That was wrong, especially since you’ve been a faithful wife to me.”

As he spoke, her shining gaze told him that he was saying what she’d always longed to hear. She moved her lips, silently repeating his words to herself, committing them to memory.

“And you have so many wonderful qualities.” Yanagisawa hadn’t realized what his wife was capable of until she’d told him about her attacks on Sano’s wife Reiko. “I want to make up for the way I’ve treated you.” He lowered his voice to a husky, pleading tone: “Will you let me?”

“Yes!” Her hands dropped her empty cup. She clasped them to her bosom, so agitated by glee that he thought she would swoon. “Oh, yes!”

“A million thanks,” he said, feigning humbleness. “Your generosity is one of the traits I value most in you.” And he meant to take full advantage of it. “From now on, I’ll try to be a better husband. I’ll also try to be a better father. I’ll pay more attention to Kikuko as well as you.”

She glowed with joyous, complete faith in him. People tended to believe what they wanted to believe, and Yanagisawa had fooled many a wiser person. “You’re being so good to me,” she murmured. “How can I ever repay your kindness?”

Yanagisawa smiled in sly satisfaction. “There is a small favor you can do for me.” He leaned close to her, put his lips to her ear, and whispered.

Lady Yanagisawa recoiled in shock from the chamberlain. He raised his eyebrows, prompting a reply. What he’d asked of her was so horrifying that her mind spurned his very words, although she was desperately eager to please him.

“I… I can’t do it,” she said. She averted her eyes from him, afraid to see anger on his face, terrified that he would revert to his usual, cold self. “I couldn’t.”

“Why not?” he said in such a gentle voice that she risked a glance at him. His handsome face showed only concern for her and a wish to understand her objection.

“It’s-it’s wrong.”

Vague suspicion kindled in Lady Yanagisawa. That her husband had suddenly begun to treat her as she’d always hoped now seemed as disturbing as marvelous. Was he putting on an act designed to manipulate her into doing his terrible bidding? Her heart repelled the idea.

“I know it sounds bad,” the chamberlain said, “and I hate asking you to do it, but there’s no one else I can trust. I’m surrounded by enemies and traitors. You’re the only person who’s loyal to me.” His gaze compelled her. “I need you.”

Lady Yanagisawa yearned to fill his need. To commit treachery seemed worthwhile if she could win his approval, yet the ingrained morals of society prohibited her. “I’ve never done anything like that,” she said. “I-I don’t think I’m capable.”

“I know you are,” said the chamberlain.

They both knew she’d done things not so far removed from what he wanted, but she’d excused them as impulses provoked by circumstances beyond her control. If she carried out his wishes, she must act deliberately, with full knowledge of what she did and the possible consequences of her actions.

“I’ll tell you exactly what to say and do,” he said.

“But I couldn’t do that to a friend, or an enemy,” Lady Yanagisawa said.

The chamberlain eyed her with reproach. “Does the welfare of friends and enemies matter more to you than I do?”

“Of course not, my lord!” Lady Yanagisawa hastened to say. “You are the person most important to me.” She huddled, arms wrapped around herself, and shook her head. “But I’m afraid.”

“Afraid of getting in trouble?” When she nodded, the chamberlain said, “Don’t be.” His personality and beauty exerted a powerful force upon her. “I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”

Lady Yanagisawa stiffened her crumbling will. “I just can’t do it.” Her voice wobbled; tears smarted her eyes. She realized that her fondest wishes hinged on obeying him. This dreadful favor was the price of his affection toward Kikuko as well as herself. “Couldn’t I do something else for you instead?” she pleaded.

The chamberlain regarded her with a grave compassion that stirred her ever-present desire for him. “Let me explain why you must do me this favor and none other.”

He took her hand in his. Lady Yanagisawa’s breath caught as the warm press of his flesh sent a thrill of excitation through her.

“I need to weaken my enemies,” he said. “Together we can strike their very heart.”

His fingers fondled and kneaded hers. She sat immobile, her eyelids lowered, savoring his touch and her arousal.

“But if you don’t help me, I’ll lose my fight against Lord Matsudaira. He’ll have my head as his war trophy. You and I will be separated.”

Sadness tinged the chamberlain’s voice. “You wouldn’t want that to happen… would you?”

He eased himself so close beside her that she could hear him breathing, smell his masculine scent of tobacco smoke and wintergreen hair oil. The nearness of him raised a hot, tumultuous fever in her blood. He stroked her cheek.

A groan escaped Lady Yanagisawa as her skin burned under the caress that wandered over her lips, trailed down her throat. He loosened her robes. His intense, luminous gaze and smile transfixed her as he caressed her breasts. Her nipples hardened and tingled. She cried out with a pleasure and a keenness of desire she’d never known before. Now the chamberlain lowered her to the floor and reclined at her side. His hand moved under her skirts, up her thigh, sending shivers through her. His fingers caressed her moist, slick womanhood. She heard herself moaning while her pleasure mounted toward heights she’d never scaled. And he alone could send her to those heights.

“If you love me, you’ll help me,” the chamberlain murmured, his breath like fire upon her ear.

Lady Yanagisawa heard his meaning that he would never love her unless she gave in. “Please,” she whimpered, begging him to love her without conditions attached. Ravenous for him, she clutched at his surcoat and pulled him toward her.

The chamberlain pried her fingers off him, sat back on his heels. “Not until you’ve done what I’ve asked.”

Beautiful and adamant, alluring and cruel, he loomed over Lady Yanagisawa. Her desperate need for him shattered the remains of her will. If she wanted him to fulfill her lusts and dreams, she had no choice but to capitulate. Sobs of terror and surrender convulsed Lady Yanagisawa.

“Yes,” she cried, “I’ll do it.”