Laura Rowland - The Samurai’s Wife

“A brilliant scheme,” Yanagisawa admitted with a calculating look in his eyes. “I’m glad I thought of it.”

Though Marume and Fukida frowned at the theft of their master’s idea, Sano nodded, willing to give Yanagisawa credit for his plan if it meant they could deliver a killer to justice and avert a war.

Yanagisawa said, “What are we waiting for?”

The brilliant plan crumbled as soon as they rode up to the Imperial Palace. Tokugawa troops had gathered outside the compound, along with a battalion of yoriki, doshin, and civilian police assistants. The commanders shouted urgent orders. While Sano, Marume, Fukida, and Yanagisawa watched in bewilderment, the whole army swarmed into the city.

Yanagisawa approached the gate, where two scared-looking watchmen stood guard. "What’s going on?” he asked.

Bowing, they answered, “The emperor is missing!”

Stunned, Sano looked at Marume and Fukida. Their exclamations echoed his alarm.

“Where is Shoshidai Matsudaira?” Yanagisawa demanded.

“At the emperor’s residence,” chorused the watchmen.

“Can this have anything to do with the murder case?” Fukida asked.

“I don’t know,” Sano said, “but if something bad has happened to the emperor, it could mean disaster.”

Any misfortune that befell the sacred sovereign heralded trouble for all of Japan: earthquakes, fires, typhoons, famine. And if Emperor Tomohito should die, even a temporary break in the continuity of the imperial succession would create disorder in the cosmos and evil among mankind.

Yanagisawa had already dismounted and marched into the palace compound. Sano, Marume, and Fukida leapt off their horses and followed. Watchmen and Tokugawa troops ran up and down the lanes of the kuge quarter. In the sun-baked courtyard of the emperor’s residence, anxious court nobles and ladies stood apart from a crowd of angry samurai officials. Shoshidai Matsudaira hurried out of the latter group and flung himself on the ground at Yanagisawa’s feet.

“Oh, Honorable Chamberlain,” the shoshidai wailed, “I apologize for letting the emperor disappear. I’ve failed in my duty. I shall commit seppuku to atone for my negligence.”

“Stop whining and tell me exactly what happened,” Yanagisawa said. “How long has the emperor been gone?”

Right Minister Ichijo left the group of nobles and came over. “No one has seen His Majesty since he retired to his bedchamber last night. His attendants discovered that he was missing when they went to wake him for his sunrise prayer ritual. When His Majesty wasn’t found after a search of the palace, I notified the shoshidai. But he could have disappeared hours before daybreak.”

“Have you examined his quarters?” Sano asked.

“Yes,” said Ichijo. “Everything was in order. A set of daytime clothes is missing from his wardrobe.”

“Then he probably went voluntarily,” Sano deduced. “How did he get out of the palace?”

“He must have climbed over the wall.”

“Had he said or done anything recently that might indicate where he was going or why?” Sano watched Yanagisawa fuming over the catastrophe and the disruption of their plans.

“Not that I’ve been able to determine,” Ichijo said. “His attendants say he acted perfectly normal; he told them nothing. And the idiot Prince Momozono is nowhere to be found. I suspect he went with His Majesty.”

An imperial watchman ran into the courtyard, waving a scroll with gold chrysanthemum crests on the ends, bound in gold silk cord. “Here’s a letter from His Majesty. I found it hanging in the Purple Dragon Hall.”

“Give me that.” Snatching the scroll, Yanagisawa opened it. Sano saw large, childish calligraphy scrawled upon the fine paper. Yanagisawa read aloud:

“ ‘To My Honorable Family and Loyal Court:

Don’t bother looking for me. We shall meet again soon enough, and then the whole world will know what I’ve done. This is the dawn of a new era. Tonight I shall lead my army in battle against the Tokugawa oppressors who have subjugated the imperial throne for too long. I shall seize the capital and take my place as the rightful ruler of the land. No one can stop me. The gods have decreed my triumph. Until then, farewell.

The Divine Emperor Tomohito’ ”

A stunned silence hung over the courtyard, thick as the sweltering heat. Sano shook his head in confusion. This new development marked Emperor Tomohito as the instigator of the imperial restoration conspiracy, but what about all the evidence against Right Minister Ichijo?

The watchman said, “The sacred sword is missing from the treasure storehouse. His Majesty’s suit of armor is gone, too.”

A woman emerged from the mass of court ladies. At first Sano didn’t recognize Lady Jokyōden. She wore a dressing gown, no makeup, and her hair loose; in the crisis of the emperor’s disappearance, she must have forgotten to dress. Instead of a youthful Miyako beauty, she looked like a middle-aged woman ravaged by horror.

“My rash, foolish son!” Jokyōden cried, wringing her hands.

Chaos broke loose. Courtiers loudly disclaimed any involvement with the rebellion; sobs arose from the ladies. The whole group surged toward the courtyard gate. Sano understood their fear of being punished as unwitting parties to treason, but the last thing he needed was a disturbance in the court.

“Restrain them!” he called to the bakufu officials. “Put everyone in the palace under house arrest!”

The officials hastened to obey. Yanagisawa turned on Right Minister Ichijo. "You’re responsible for this. You put the emperor up to the revolt. You recruited the army and planned the siege!”

With haughty dignity Ichijo said, “I have no part in His Majesty’s actions. If I had known of his plans, I would have dissuaded him from going.”

“Don’t lie to me!” Yanagisawa shouted. “I saw you with those rōnin last night. They’re your mercenaries. You paid them combat wages for the battle that the emperor thinks he’s leading. Where will they launch the attack?”

Ichijo’s face went ashen with shock. “You… saw me?” He staggered backward, leaning heavily on his cane. “But my business with those men has nothing to do with the emperor, or a conspiracy against the Tokugawa.”

“Lady Asagao has admitted that you weren’t with her when Left Minister Konoe died,” Sano said, “and we have a witness who saw you in the Pond Garden immediately after the murder.”

“Yes… I was there. But I didn’t kill him.” Ichijo spoke in a distracted tone, as if he neither knew nor cared what he was saying.

“Yes, you did!” Yanagisawa said. “You murdered Aisu, and you tried to murder me, too. Confess! Tell me where the emperor is!”

Ichijo’s eyes were glazed as he murmured, “Konoe… Merciful gods. I should have guessed…” He swayed dizzily and collapsed in a faint.

“Wake up!” Yanagisawa slapped Ichijo, but the right minister remained unconscious. The bakufu officials herded the court nobles and ladies away. Yanagisawa glared at Sano. “What brilliant scheme do you propose now?”

The next hours passed in a blur. By afternoon, search parties had covered much of the capital without locating the emperor. Right Minister Ichijo had regained consciousness, but continued to insist that he knew nothing about the rebels. A distraught Lady Jokyōden insisted likewise. Both suspects were under house arrest along with the rest of the Imperial Court. Soldiers now guarded all approaches to Miyako; cannon had been mounted along the Great Rampart, and all samurai in the area drafted into service. Yet the local Tokugawa army numbered only the few thousand required to maintain a visible presence during almost a century of peace. The rebels might have recruited more than this, and could launch a violent bid for power even though the emperor’s foolish announcement of his plans had lost them the advantage of surprise.