The Ronin’s Mistress

31

Reiko remembered that Oishi’s former wife had said she worked as a maid for a salt merchant. Accompanied by her guards, Reiko rode in her palanquin past the salt warehouses along a canal near the reeking fish market in Nihonbashi. Peasants hefted crocks of salt out of boats moored at the quays. In the district where the merchants lived, Reiko’s guard captain asked a watchman at a neighborhood gate, “Where can we find a woman named Ukihashi?”

“Oh, the samurai lady. She works for Madam Yasue,” the watchman said, and gave directions to the house.

Ukihashi had said that her employer enjoyed having a samurai lady for a servant, Reiko recalled. Evidently, Madam Yasue was so proud of it that she’d spread the word.

The procession stopped in a street of houses that were big but plain. Sumptuary laws prevented commoners from flaunting their wealth; the penalty was confiscation of their assets. Any expensive things were hidden behind those bamboo fences and half-timbered walls. Reiko climbed out of her palanquin, went up to the gate, and rang the bell.

A girl answered. She was about ten years old and wore the indigo kimono and white headscarf of a maid. Reiko said, “I’m looking for Ukihashi. Is she here?”

Before the girl could reply, the door of the house behind her opened. A stout, middle-aged woman emerged. Her upswept hair was dyed a fake, bronzy shade of black. She wore thick makeup and a garish floral kimono. “Who’s there?” she barked at the girl.

“A lady,” the girl mumbled. “She wants to see my mother.”

Reiko noticed that the girl had Ukihashi’s square face and delicate features. The woman, presumably Madam Yasue, raked her gaze over Reiko. “Who are you?”

Reiko introduced herself.

“Ukihashi is a servant who has work to do,” Madam Yasue said, “but I’ll let you see her for a few minutes.” She jerked her chin at the girl.

The girl trudged toward the rear of the house. Reiko followed. She pitied Ukihashi and her daughter, employed by that mean, vulgar woman. She tried not to think that their fate could be hers someday. If Sano left, there was no telling what depths she and the children might sink to, even if he wasn’t made a ronin.

The kitchen occupied a building attached to the house by a covered corridor. Its yard contained buckets, a storage shed, and slop barrels. Steam that smelled of fermented soybeans billowed from the open door. Reiko heard rattling, sizzling, and hissing noises. She entered, peered through the steam, and saw two women at a table surrounded by pots boiling on the hearth, dishware on shelves, utensils hung from the ceiling, bales of rice, and ceramic jars of food. Ukihashi was cleaning fish, slitting their bellies with a sharp knife and scraping out the entrails. The other woman knelt with her back to Reiko. All Reiko could see of her was her head drape and her cloak.

Ukihashi glanced up and noticed Reiko. Her raw, chapped lips parted. The other woman turned. It was Lady Asano. The drape covered her shaved head. Her plain, round face revealed shock and dismay. Reiko had never seen two people less glad to see her.

Ukihashi said, “What are you doing here?”

“I need to talk to you again,” Reiko said.

Lady Asano rose hastily. “I’ll be going, then.”

“Stay,” Reiko said. “I need to talk to you, too.”

Lady Asano reluctantly knelt. “About what?”

“First, I want to know why you’re here,” Reiko said.

“We’re friends.” Lady Asano’s small, wide-set eyes skittered. “I’m just visiting.”

“I thought you’d had a quarrel,” Reiko said.

“We’ve made up,” Ukihashi said in a flat tone meant to discourage more questions.

Reiko sensed the strain in the air that accompanies a serious, intimate discussion. The women’s eyes were red and swollen. “Why have you been crying?”

“It’s none of your affair.” Ukihashi gutted another fish. “Either say what you came to say or go. I’m busy.”

“A judge on the supreme court was attacked the night before last,” Reiko said. “He’s my father.” She watched the women; their expressions were blank. “He was badly beaten.”

“I’m sorry,” Lady Asano said with the indifference of a person so beleaguered by her own problems that she didn’t care about anyone else’s. “But what has that to do with us?”

“My husband and I think it was arranged by somebody who wants to sabotage the supreme court.” Reiko sprang her accusation on both women. “Was it you?”

Lady Asano laughed, an involuntary outburst, behind her hand. Ukihashi said, “No.” Her tone was incredulous. “Why would you think it was us?”

“Because you have an interest in the verdict.” Although their reaction suggested that her suspicions were baseless, Reiko said, “Ukihashi-san, you would seem to want your husband punished. Lady Asano, you would surely rather have the forty-seven ronin pardoned.”

“I didn’t beat your father,” Ukihashi said, indignant. “I’ve never wanted to hurt anybody.”

Her bloody hand gripped the knife. Reiko remembered the ferocity with which she’d attacked Okaru.

“Me, either,” Lady Asano said.

“My husband and I think this attack was done by a criminal for hire,” Reiko said.

“How could I have hired a criminal, even if I knew how, which I don’t? I’ve been cooped up in this house, working,” Ukihashi retorted. “You can ask my employer.”

“I’ve been stuck in a convent for two years, remember,” Lady Asano said. “This is the first time I’ve been out.”

“Besides, where would I have gotten the money?” Ukihashi demanded. “I earn barely enough for me and my daughters to live on.”

“My fortune was confiscated by the government,” Lady Asano said.

Reiko had forgotten how circumscribed their lives were, how limited their means. Their logic, and their sincerity, and the problem of how they would have learned which judge on the supreme court to attack, convinced her that they were innocent of the crime against her father. But she could smell secrets in the air, like a whiff of the fish entrails on the table.

“Somebody will pay for my father’s injuries,” Reiko said. “When my husband finds out that you wouldn’t cooperate with me, he may decide that it should be … you.” Reiko settled her gaze on Lady Asano.

Lady Asano jerked back as if Reiko had thrown mud on her. “That’s not fair! None of this is! I’ve never done anything wrong, and I’ve been punished anyway. Isn’t it someone else’s turn?”

“Fine. I’ll tell my husband to pick you.” Reiko turned on Ukihashi.

“No. Please.” Alarmed, Ukihashi raised her hands. “I don’t care about myself, but if I’m put to death, who will take care of my daughters?”

“If it has to be one of us, then let it be me,” Lady Asano said, moved to sacrifice herself for the sake of friendship. “I’m all alone in the world.”

“It doesn’t have to be one of you.” Reiko was merciless, even though she hated tormenting these helpless women. She was fed up with people lying to her and Sano and withholding information. Determined to learn the truth about the vendetta, keep her family together, and find out who’d hurt her father, she said to Ukihashi, “Your son would be a good scapegoat.”

“Not Chikara!” Vicious anger transformed Ukihashi’s face. She lunged toward Reiko, her slimy hands outstretched to maim. “Leave him alone!”

Lady Asano grabbed Ukihashi and cried, “Don’t! You’ll only make things worse!”

As Ukihashi struggled and shouted protests, Reiko said, “If Chikara is convicted of hiring the assassin that hurt my father, then it won’t matter if the supreme court pardons the forty-seven ronin. He’ll be sentenced to death.”

Lady Asano looked around, in desperate hope of escape or salvation. Finding neither, she said to Ukihashi, “We have to tell her.”

“Tell me what?” Reiko said, elated that her tactic had worked, yet ashamed of her cruelty.

Ukihashi’s face was a mess of tears and panic. “We promised it would be our secret!”

“We must,” Lady Asano said, “if you want your son to have a chance to live.”

Resignation settled over Ukihashi like an invisible net that pulled tight and squeezed the defiance out of her. “All right. But it won’t be what you expected to hear.”

1701 April

Inside Lord Asano’s estate in Edo, Ukihashi dressed her two daughters in new, matching pale green kimonos. She smiled at the girls and said, “Don’t you look pretty!”

A servant interrupted. “Kira Yoshinaka is here to see you.”

Ukihashi was surprised. What could the shogun’s master of ceremonies want with her? She hurried to the reception room and found the old man kneeling by the alcove. His head tilted upward at a haughty angle, and his eyebrows had an arrogant arch, but he smiled warmly.

“Hello, my dear,” Kira said. “You’re every bit as beautiful as I’ve heard.”

Flattered, confused, and timid, Ukihashi blushed as she knelt and bowed. “You’re too kind … I don’t deserve … May I offer you some refreshments?”

While they drank tea and nibbled cakes, Kira chatted about the weather. His bright-eyed, intense scrutiny made Ukihashi uncomfortable. Finally he said, “My dear, I wonder if you would do an old man a favor.”

“If I can,” Ukihashi said, mystified.

“I would like to set up a romantic liaison between you and Lord Asano. So that the two of you can bed each other, to put it bluntly.”

The request was too shocking and offensive for Ukihashi to even consider. “Why…?”

Sly pleasure crept into Kira’s smile. “Arranging tableaus is my specialty. I do it in my work at court, but this one would be strictly for my own private entertainment. Are you willing?”

“Certainly not!” Ukihashi was so outraged that she forgot her shyness and courtesy. “Lord Asano’s wife is my friend. I would never do that to her or to my husband. I’m a good, faithful wife, and I have no desire to commit adultery for your selfish pleasure. You are a cad for suggesting such a thing!”

Unruffled, Kira said, “Allow me to explain why you should cooperate, my dear. Unless you do, I will tell the shogun that your husband has been speaking ill of him. That’s treason.”

“Oishi hasn’t!” Ukihashi protested. “I’ll swear to it!”

Kira regarded her with pity. “Who is the shogun going to believe? A silly woman or me, his master of ceremonies?” His smile turned cruel. “May I remind you that the family of a traitor shares his punishment? Either you do as I ask, or you and Oishi and your children will be put to death by tomorrow.”

Although the very idea of betraying her friend’s trust and her husband’s love made her ill, Ukihashi had to protect her family. “Promise me that Oishi and Lady Asano will never know.”

“Thank you, my dear.” Kira chortled. “You can trust me to be discreet.”

The next day Ukihashi went to a squalid inn by the river, where Kira had set up the liaison. Nauseated and shaking, she waited in the dingy room. She began to be furious at Lord Asano. How could he go along with Kira’s scheme? Lady Asano had told her about his affairs with other women, but couldn’t he leave the wife of his loyal chief retainer alone?

When Lord Asano arrived, he was so upset that his face twitched and he shook with dry sobs. “I don’t want to do this any more than you do. I respect your husband, and I hate to betray him. But Kira said that if I don’t, he won’t instruct me on court etiquette. I’ll flub the ceremony for the imperial envoys and disgrace myself.”

Ukihashi realized that he was as much an innocent victim as herself. She was appalled at how Kira had manipulated both of them, but it made the situation more bearable. “Let’s get it over with, shall we?”

They turned their backs to each other and undressed. They lay down on the bed and fumbled through the motions of lovemaking. Ukihashi felt dirty being touched by a man not her husband and mortified because she could see Kira’s shadow on the paper windows. Through a hole in one pane, his bright, evil eye gleamed.

In the room next door, Lady Asano watched the couple through a crack in the wall. She pressed her hand over her mouth. She hadn’t heard their whispered conversation. All she knew was that her husband and her friend were lovers. When Kira had told her yesterday, she hadn’t believed him. He’d said she should rent this room and see for herself. And now here was the terrible proof! She didn’t mind so much about her husband-she was used to his affairs. But how could Ukihashi do this to her? Lady Asano would hate her for as long as they lived.

* * *

“That’s why we stopped being friends,” Ukihashi said to Reiko.

“I didn’t tell her I’d seen,” Lady Asano said. “I was too angry and hurt.”

Reiko sat in the steamy kitchen, astounded by what she’d heard. The women’s story of the events that had led up to the vendetta was stranger than she’d ever imagined.

“But I knew she’d found out,” Ukihashi said. “I could tell by the way she acted. I thought Lord Asano had told her. I didn’t know it was Kira. Until now. That’s what we were talking about when you came.” Anger sparked in her tear-swollen eyes. “Kira told us both to keep quiet.” She added regretfully, “And I was too ashamed to tell anyone.”

“Now that Kira is dead, he can’t hurt us,” Lady Asano said. “So I came here to confront Ukihashi.”

“She scolded me until I told her what Kira had done,” Ukihashi said.

It must have been quite an emotional conversation, Reiko thought.

“I realized I’d misjudged her,” Lady Asano said. “We made up.” She and Ukihashi exchanged affectionate smiles.

“When I talked to you before, everything I told you was the truth,” Ukihashi said to Reiko. “I just left out the part about Kira and Lord Asano and me.”

“Me, too,” Lady Asano said.

The implications of their tale stunned Reiko. “Is that why Lord Asano attacked Kira? Because Kira forced him to take part in the tableau?”

“Yes. On top of insulting him and humiliating him.” Lady Asano’s voice was harsh with the rancor she still felt toward Kira. “It must have been the thing that finally made my husband snap. Because he attacked Kira the very next day after the liaison at the inn.”

Reiko was exhilarated. She had discovered the secret that many had speculated upon for almost two years and none had guessed-the motive behind the attack. But the cruelty of the truth lessened her pride in her accomplishment. Kira had turned Lord Asano into a sexual puppet. Lord Asano must have declined to say why he’d attacked Kira because he’d been too ashamed and he’d wanted to protect the women from disgrace. And Kira hadn’t confined himself to tormenting Lord Asano. He’d made Ukihashi and Lady Asano part of his game. Kira had been a monster who’d enjoyed shaming other people and watching them suffer. Reiko could believe he’d deserved to die.

“What will you do, now that you know?” Ukihashi said. She and Lady Asano regarded Reiko with fear that their candor had averted one threat but brought on another that was worse.

“I’ll have to tell my husband,” Reiko said.

Ukihashi leaned her elbows on the table piled with fish and hid her face in her hands, heedless of the viscera on them. “I can’t bear for it to become public! I don’t want Oishi to know what I did!”

Reiko recalled her first talk with Ukihashi, when the woman had expressed such hatred toward her husband. Why should Ukihashi mind what Oishi thought of her now? She must care more for him than she would admit.

“I think that since we gave you what you wanted, you should do something for us,” Lady Asano said. “Can’t you and your husband keep our secret to yourselves?”

Reiko felt that she did owe the women a favor. “We’ll try.”

Ukihashi dropped her hands. Her face was smeared with slime from the fish. “Will it make any difference for the forty-seven ronin?”

“I don’t know,” Reiko said, honestly at a loss. She hadn’t had time to think of all its ramifications. “Maybe.” Eager to bring Sano her new evidence, she rose.

The women rose, too, as if they didn’t want Reiko to leave without giving them more reassurances. Lady Asano said, “Now do you believe that we had nothing to do with the attack on your father? We won’t get in trouble?”

“Yes.” Reiko truly did. The air around the women seemed clearer than when she’d arrived; her sense that they were hiding something was gone.

“What about my son?” Ukihashi said. “And Oishi?”

“If they’re innocent, they won’t get in trouble, either,” Reiko said.

But someone would pay. The need for vengeance still burned in Reiko.

She thanked the women for their help, then departed, still stunned by the turn of events. She’d solved one mystery but was no closer to discovering who had attacked her father. Nor had she ensured that her family would be safe.