The Shogun's Daughter

36

The rising sun spilled a golden glow over Edo. Townspeople massed along the main street, waiting to see the procession that would accompany the shogun’s dead heir to Zōjō Temple. Troops kept the space outside the castle gate clear of peddlers hawking tea and rice crackers to the throngs. Nuns and monks sold incense, prayers printed on wooden tags, and amulets for the biggest funeral in recent memory.

Inside the castle, samurai and ladies dressed in white, the color of mourning, emerged from their mansions. They streamed uphill through the passages to the palace. There, priests in saffron robes, equipped with drums, gongs, bells, and cymbals, were gathered. Troops held white lanterns, and banners emblazoned with the Tokugawa crest, on long poles. Servants lit incense burners. Maids brought huge bouquets of flowers. White doves fluttered in bamboo cages. Bearers stood by the funeral bier-a miniature house that contained Yoshisato’s remains, decorated with flags and gilded artificial lotus flowers, mounted on two horizontal wooden beams. Everyone waited for the shogun and his entourage.

Sano’s estate was the only one in the castle from which nobody went to join the funeral procession. Inside the mansion, Sano stood by the front door. His bandaged face felt like raw, stiffening leather. The cuts burned as if carved with a hot knife. They throbbed in a warning rhythm.

In his lifetime he’d engaged in many subterfuges but never considered himself a good actor. Now he must act the role of a condemned man resigned to dying.

Sano opened the door and said to the two soldiers on the veranda, “I must speak with the officer in charge.” He hoped his voice was loud enough to cover any noise from inside the house. He didn’t have to fake his exhaustion or misery. “I have a last request.”

The soldiers looked at each other, then back at Sano. Their pity served his purpose. One fetched an older samurai who had a florid, pleasant face. Sano walked across the courtyard to meet him. The fewer guards near the house, the better.

“I’m Captain Onoda,” the officer said. “What is your last request?”

The last request of a samurai sentenced to death was a serious matter. Sano could see that Captain Onoda wanted to grant his, if possible. “Please allow me to fulfill my last duty to the shogun before I die. I want to solve the murder of his daughter.”

The last thing he really wanted was to serve the fool who’d defaced him and let him and his family be condemned to death. Yet Sano really did want to finish the investigation. If things went wrong today, he wouldn’t like to die with the case unsolved. He did want justice for Tsuruhime, whom everyone else seemed to have forgotten.

Captain Onoda looked impressed. “I’d like to help you, but I can’t let you leave the premises.”

“I’m not asking to leave. I think I already know who killed Tsuruhime. It’s the woman who nursed her when she had smallpox. Her name is Namiji. If I can just talk to her, I’ll find out whether she’s guilty. Will you bring her to me?”

Captain Onoda considered. “I don’t see how it could hurt.” He sent a soldier to fetch Namiji. He whispered to Sano, “I always thought you were the most honorable samurai in the regime. I can hardly believe you killed Yoshisato. It was wrong of you, but I know you must have meant well.”

“A thousand thanks.” Sano bowed, touched by these kind words, hating to trick the man.

* * *

Inside the mansion’s private chambers, Masahiro pulled out a section of drawers in the cabinets built against the wall. It rolled out on oiled wheels. He bent, inserted his fingers into a groove in the floorboards, and pried. A large, square panel popped up. The hole it had covered gave access to the space under the building.

Taeko, Tatsuo, and Akiko took turns jumping down the hole. They crouched beneath the house. Midori lowered herself into the hole while Reiko held the baby. Reiko handed the baby down to Midori, then awkwardly followed the others. They waited in the earth-smelling darkness until Masahiro joined them. Then they began crawling.

Masahiro led. Reiko had forbidden the children to play under the house because it was dirty and inhabited by poisonous spiders, but now she was glad he’d disobeyed. Despite the meager light coming through the lattice panels that covered the building’s foundation, he moved swiftly between the stone posts that supported the mansion. The other children and Midori, the baby riding on her back, kept pace with him as he angled under wings and corridors, around courtyards and gardens. Reiko lagged behind. Her heavy belly dangled. She felt the twinge of a contraction, but she didn’t stop until she caught up with the others at the back of the mansion. Through the diamond-shaped openings in the lattice Reiko saw the sandaled feet and armored legs of troops outside. She and the others huddled together, waiting.

* * *

Shouts blared. A soldier ran into the courtyard, where Sano stood with Captain Onoda. “That big fellow has gone crazy! We need help!”

Calling troops to accompany him, Captain Onoda followed the soldier. Sano trailed them to the yard where he and Masahiro practiced martial arts. Marume knelt on the ground, clutching a kitchen knife, surrounded by troops.

“Go away!” he yelled. An empty wine jar lay beside him. “Leave me alone!”

“He’s going to commit seppuku,” said the soldier who’d called for help.

“He can’t,” Captain Onoda said with concern. “Chamberlain Yanagisawa said that all Sano’s retainers are to be kept alive, so they can be executed after he’s dead.”

“Let me take my life honorably.” Marume’s eyes were red and teary from the vinegar he’d splashed in them. He reeked of the liquor he’d poured on himself.

“Seize him,” Captain Onoda ordered.

The soldiers moved in on Marume. He waved the knife at them. They leaped back. He tore open his kimono and held the knife to his belly.

“Surrender, Marume-san,” Sano said. “It’s the law.” He hoped his words didn’t sound phony and rehearsed.

“Please don’t make me,” Marume blubbered. “I don’t want to die in disgrace!” He was a much better actor than Sano.

They argued back and forth, deliberately wasting time. Marume grew louder, wilder. More troops rushed over to watch. When they stopped coming, Sano said, “Marume-san, this is my last order to you: Give me that knife!”

Weeping dramatically, Marume handed the knife to Sano. The troops rushed Marume, grabbed him, and dragged him to the barracks.

* * *

Reiko heard Marume bellowing. She peeked through the lattice. The troops had gone to see what the commotion was. Reiko, Masahiro, and Midori tore off their outer robes and the younger children’s. They all wore white silk garments underneath. Reiko and Midori draped their heads with white shawls. Masahiro pushed the lattice panel. It popped loose. He scooted out from under the house, looked around, then beckoned. In the distance, Marume cursed. Midori handed the baby to Masahiro and crawled out next. She and Masahiro helped Reiko out.

The younger children scrambled after her. Tatsuo and Akiko suppressed giggles. This was a game to them. Taeko was as somber as Masahiro and the women. Reiko took Akiko’s hand and Taeko’s. Midori wrapped the end of her shawl around the baby and took Tatsuo’s hand. Everyone ran for the gate.

Masahiro opened it a crack. Reiko saw a flurry of white garments and heard the clap of sandals on the pavement as people going to the funeral walked past. Masahiro slipped out the gate first. Blending with the white-robed people, he ambled down the street. Reiko shooed Midori and Tatsuo out, then followed with Akiko and Taeko, closing the gate behind her. Draping her shawl over her face, she glanced anxiously backward.

Would Sano get out alive?

She swallowed her fear for him and concentrated on her surroundings. Although there were other children of Masahiro’s age in the crowd, Taeko, Tatsuo, and Akiko were the youngest. Nobody except Midori had an infant. Nobody except Reiko was pregnant. She felt dangerously conspicuous. Ahead, Masahiro loitered in the passage. Midori and Tatsuo caught up with him. Hurrying Akiko and Taeko through the crowd, Reiko joined her group.

“You go on ahead,” she whispered to Midori. “Take Akiko with you and Taeko and Tatsuo.”

“Aren’t you and Masahiro coming?” Midori said, startled.

“We’ll come later.”

“But Sano-san said we’re supposed to sneak out of town with the funeral procession and go to his mother’s house in Yamato.” That village was a few days’ journey from Edo. Heaven knew how they would manage the journey without money or help, but they must try; it was better than staying home and waiting to die. “Sano-san will meet us there. That was the plan.”

“We’re going to exonerate him,” Reiko whispered.

Midori frowned, uncomprehending. “Does he know?”

“No,” Masahiro said. “If we’d told him, he never would have agreed to it.”

Reiko hated to deceive Sano, but she had to make one last attempt to prove his innocence. Even if they all managed to escape, the murder and treason conviction would stick to them. They would always be hunted. And Sano wouldn’t be able to endure the disgrace.

“But what if you’re caught before you can get out of the castle?” Midori demanded. “That’s not what Sano-san would want!”

Reiko knew that Sano wanted most of all to save her and the children. But she and Masahiro would gladly risk themselves for a chance to save him. “This is what we’re doing.”

Panic shone in Midori’s eyes. “I can’t go by myself!”

“There’s no time to argue! Pretty soon the guards at home will notice we’re missing. Just go!” Reiko pushed her daughter at Midori.

“Mama,” Akiko protested.

“Go with Midori,” Reiko said.

“I want you to come!” Akiko sucked in her breath, opened her mouth wide.

She was about to have a tantrum. Reiko quickly put her hand over Akiko’s mouth and squeezed hard. Akiko yipped in pain.

“Be a good girl and go,” Reiko said in a firm voice. “Or you’ll get us all killed!” She dropped her hand.

Akiko stared at her, furious yet shocked silent because Reiko had never treated her so harshly. Her cheeks had red marks from Reiko’s fingers.

The stream of white-robed people going to the palace had thinned. Soon there wouldn’t be crowds to hide among. Masahiro whispered, “Mother, hurry!”

As she and Masahiro joined the march uphill, Reiko couldn’t look backward. She’d left Akiko again. Akiko wouldn’t forget this time. If Akiko escaped safely and Reiko didn’t, Akiko’s last memory of her mother would be Reiko walking away from her. Reiko blinked away tears as she trudged behind Masahiro.

They didn’t see Taeko run after them or hear Midori frantically calling her daughter.

* * *

Hirata and Deguchi stood in the hillside clearing, by a bonfire they’d built. They lifted their chins, their bodies still, all their senses alert. Hirata exerted all his mental discipline to keep calm. Tahara and Kitano would arrive soon. He mustn’t let emotions impair his judgment or his reflexes. He mustn’t lose the slightest advantage.

He looked sideways at Deguchi, whose expression was inscrutable. But Hirata knew Deguchi was feeling the same doubts about the wisdom of their plan. They stood without speaking or touching, united by their terror, chained to a course from which they couldn’t deviate.

The familiar aura pulsed distantly, ominously, in the cool morning air. “Here they come,” Hirata said.