lattice-and-paper wall that divided the room from the corridor. They grew fainter with each step.
“The attacker escaped through here.” Sano slid the partition aside and walked into the corridor. Tracking the bloodstains along the palace’s maze of corridors, he gathered an entourage of curious guards, servants, and officials. Yanagisawa and Lord Ienobu walked together behind the parade.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Ienobu demanded in a furious whisper.
“I’m trying to help Sano find out who stabbed your uncle.”
“Don’t feed me that tripe! You as good as told Sano that I’m guilty and dug my grave!”
Yanagisawa smiled at the fear he saw beneath Ienobu’s anger. He’d lived in fear since Ienobu had kidnapped Yoshisato and it felt good to have the shoe on the other foot.
“You’re playing a dangerous game,” Ienobu said.
“Dangerous for whom? I’m not the primary suspect in this crime.”
Ienobu shook his finger in Yanagisawa’s face. “Hold up your end of our deal or you’ll never see Yoshisato again.”
“Our deal is off. I’m going to help Sano convict you of conspiring to assassinate the shogun.”
“Do you really think I did?” Ienobu’s air of wounded innocence stank like old fish.
“It doesn’t matter what I think,” Yanagisawa said. “What matters is whether the shogun believes you’re guilty, and when I’m done with you, he will. You won’t live to inherit the dictatorship.”
“Don’t forget, I have Yoshisato. Step out of line again, and he’ll be as dead as everybody else thinks he is.”
Yanagisawa swallowed the panic that always clutched his heart whenever he thought of his beloved son at the mercy of Ienobu’s henchmen. “You’ve only got him until I find him.”
“I suspect you’ve been looking for him all these years. You haven’t found him yet.”
Every trail had gone cold, and there had been no new leads for fifteen months, but Yanagisawa said, “I feel my luck changing.”
Ienobu chuckled, a sound like the rattle of a snake. “Your time is running out. The shogun is going to die.” He didn’t have to say, When I take over the regime, I won’t need to keep your son—or you—alive any longer.
“Maybe the shogun will make a miraculous recovery and my searchers are rescuing Yoshisato even as we speak.” Yanagisawa added with sly humor, “I feel your luck changing, too.”
“Are you really willing to gamble that you can find Yoshisato, or destroy me, before the shogun dies and before I can send out my orders to have Yoshisato killed?”
Yanagisawa answered with passion, a substitute for certainty. “ Yes. ”
The parade slowed. Yanagisawa heard Sano say, “The footprints stop here.”
Over the heads of the men in front of him Yanagisawa saw a massive oak door banded in iron and decorated with carved flowers. It sealed the door to the Large Interior, the private section of the palace where the shogun’s wife, female concubines, their attendants and maids lived. A murmur swept through the crowd.
“A woman stabbed the shogun?”
8
“HERE’S YOUR NEW chaperone,” Midori said.
Taeko’s heart sank as she beheld the plain young maid named Umeko, whose sharp eyes missed nothing.
“How am I supposed to keep her away from Masahiro, along with all my other work?” Umeko said in her nasal, insolent voice.
Taeko missed the old days, before they got so poor, when their servants were polite. Now they had servants like Umeko that richer folks wouldn’t put up with.
“Taeko will help you do your work.” Midori glowered at Taeko. “Cleaning house will keep you too busy to get in trouble.”
Umeko led Taeko into the bedchamber; the younger children were asleep there. She laid bedding in front of the door and tucked herself in. “I’m a light sleeper. Don’t bother trying to sneak out.”
Taeko crawled into her own bed and lay awake and miserable in the dark. She’d been so happy in love with Masahiro that she
“The attacker escaped through here.” Sano slid the partition aside and walked into the corridor. Tracking the bloodstains along the palace’s maze of corridors, he gathered an entourage of curious guards, servants, and officials. Yanagisawa and Lord Ienobu walked together behind the parade.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Ienobu demanded in a furious whisper.
“I’m trying to help Sano find out who stabbed your uncle.”
“Don’t feed me that tripe! You as good as told Sano that I’m guilty and dug my grave!”
Yanagisawa smiled at the fear he saw beneath Ienobu’s anger. He’d lived in fear since Ienobu had kidnapped Yoshisato and it felt good to have the shoe on the other foot.
“You’re playing a dangerous game,” Ienobu said.
“Dangerous for whom? I’m not the primary suspect in this crime.”
Ienobu shook his finger in Yanagisawa’s face. “Hold up your end of our deal or you’ll never see Yoshisato again.”
“Our deal is off. I’m going to help Sano convict you of conspiring to assassinate the shogun.”
“Do you really think I did?” Ienobu’s air of wounded innocence stank like old fish.
“It doesn’t matter what I think,” Yanagisawa said. “What matters is whether the shogun believes you’re guilty, and when I’m done with you, he will. You won’t live to inherit the dictatorship.”
“Don’t forget, I have Yoshisato. Step out of line again, and he’ll be as dead as everybody else thinks he is.”
Yanagisawa swallowed the panic that always clutched his heart whenever he thought of his beloved son at the mercy of Ienobu’s henchmen. “You’ve only got him until I find him.”
“I suspect you’ve been looking for him all these years. You haven’t found him yet.”
Every trail had gone cold, and there had been no new leads for fifteen months, but Yanagisawa said, “I feel my luck changing.”
Ienobu chuckled, a sound like the rattle of a snake. “Your time is running out. The shogun is going to die.” He didn’t have to say, When I take over the regime, I won’t need to keep your son—or you—alive any longer.
“Maybe the shogun will make a miraculous recovery and my searchers are rescuing Yoshisato even as we speak.” Yanagisawa added with sly humor, “I feel your luck changing, too.”
“Are you really willing to gamble that you can find Yoshisato, or destroy me, before the shogun dies and before I can send out my orders to have Yoshisato killed?”
Yanagisawa answered with passion, a substitute for certainty. “ Yes. ”
The parade slowed. Yanagisawa heard Sano say, “The footprints stop here.”
Over the heads of the men in front of him Yanagisawa saw a massive oak door banded in iron and decorated with carved flowers. It sealed the door to the Large Interior, the private section of the palace where the shogun’s wife, female concubines, their attendants and maids lived. A murmur swept through the crowd.
“A woman stabbed the shogun?”
8
“HERE’S YOUR NEW chaperone,” Midori said.
Taeko’s heart sank as she beheld the plain young maid named Umeko, whose sharp eyes missed nothing.
“How am I supposed to keep her away from Masahiro, along with all my other work?” Umeko said in her nasal, insolent voice.
Taeko missed the old days, before they got so poor, when their servants were polite. Now they had servants like Umeko that richer folks wouldn’t put up with.
“Taeko will help you do your work.” Midori glowered at Taeko. “Cleaning house will keep you too busy to get in trouble.”
Umeko led Taeko into the bedchamber; the younger children were asleep there. She laid bedding in front of the door and tucked herself in. “I’m a light sleeper. Don’t bother trying to sneak out.”
Taeko crawled into her own bed and lay awake and miserable in the dark. She’d been so happy in love with Masahiro that she
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