Laura Rowland - The Samurai’s Wife

With a rueful smile, Hoshina said, “If I were a coward, I wouldn’t have come back. If I were still the schemer that I’ve been all my life, I would know better than to try a ploy that had already failed, on a man who recognized me for what I was. I want to atone for betraying your trust and prove my love for you.” Hoshina took another step toward Yanagisawa. “Then I’ll die gladly.”

“You’re a liar!” Even as Yanagisawa’s spirit trembled at the ardent declaration, he pointed his sword at Hoshina, keeping the length of steel between them. “I’ll kill you!”

“I don’t think you will.” Instead of picking up his fallen weapons, Hoshina moved closer to Yanagisawa. From the battlefield, sporadic explosions of gunfire continued. Hoshina’s steady gaze transfixed Yanagisawa; the sword trembled in Yanagisawa’s hand as he backed away. “You could have killed me yesterday,” Hoshina said, “but you didn’t even draw your sword. That’s why I’m willing to gamble my life now. But even if I lose the bet, at least I’ll have brought you evidence to help you solve the case and made amends for betraying you to the sōsakan-sama.”

“What evidence? What are you talking about?”

“When I escaped, I took cover in the underworld of Miyako,” Hoshina said. “I tracked down police informants and asked questions. What I learned will help your investigation.”

“I don’t want to hear it!” Yanagisawa took another step backward, clutching the extended sword. Hoshina advanced. He dipped his hand into the cloth pouch at his waist. Fearing a hidden weapon, Yanagisawa cried, “Stop. Don’t move!”

Hoshina removed a small object from the pouch and offered it to Yanagisawa on his outstretched palm. “Do you remember this?”

It was a fern-leaf coin from Left Minister Konoe’s office. Uncomprehending, Yanagisawa nodded.

“I’ve found out what it is,” Hoshina said. When Yanagisawa didn’t respond, anxiety sharpened his face. “I understand why you’re suspicious, but please, just listen to what I have to say. Then decide if you can forgive me for the harm I’ve done.”

Instead of running away, Hoshina had stayed in Miyako to continue the investigation! He’d kept his promise to investigate the mysterious coins. Confused and shaken, fighting to maintain his resolve against Hoshina, Yanagisawa continued backing away, his sword aimed at the yoriki.

“You’re just trying to manipulate me into pardoning you!”

Despair slumped Hoshina’s shoulders, and his face looked suddenly ravaged by fatigue. “If that’s what you really believe, then so be it.” Still, he kept advancing. Yanagisawa’s back struck a solid wooden pillar, abruptly halting his retreat. Hoshina moved closer until his throat was touching the tip of Yanagisawa’s blade.

“So kill me now,” Hoshina said, “and I’ll die satisfied with the knowledge that I did my best for the man who means more to me than my own life.”

The sight of the sharp steel point indenting Hoshina’s bare skin filled Yanagisawa with awe. No man dedicated to self-interest would ever offer up his life this way. Yanagisawa could finally believe in Hoshina’s honesty. And he saw a chance to put a tragedy behind him and atone for his own sins.

Shichisaburō had died for love of him. Rather than do what was right and honorable, Yanagisawa had condemned the actor to execution. But he needn’t relive the past. He drew a deep breath. If he could find within himself the mercy to forgive, the courage to relinquish pride…

Hoshina’s steady gaze, filled with a mixture of faith and fear, compelled Yanagisawa’s decision. The breath rushed out of him; the sword fell from his grasp. Hoshina’s face lit with happiness. They exchanged a long, silent look that conveyed forgiveness and gratitude, affirmed love, and stirred desire, while jubilant shouts from the battlefield heralded the imminent Tokugawa victory.

Eventually, they picked up and sheathed their weapons, then stood side by side, watching the battle, uncertain what to say. Hoshina ventured, “Now can I tell you what I learned about the coin?”

“Yes, if you like.” Yanagisawa’s heart was soaring with such happiness that he hardly cared about the clue.

“The coin was minted by a powerful Miyako gangster clan by the name of Dazai,” Hoshina said.

“That’s interesting,” Yanagisawa said, not wanting to admit that he already knew and let Hoshina think his effort had been wasted.

“My informant is a Dazai retainer,” Hoshina said. “He told me that the gang trades in stolen goods. Usually the chief buys them outright from thieves and keeps the money he makes from reselling them. But when the merchandise is very rare or valuable, he pays after he’s found the right buyer. He gives the thief one of these.” Hoshina held up the coin, explaining, “The Dazai are former samurai. They have a sense of honor. The coin is their pledge that they’ll either pay for the merchandise eventually, or return it.”

The unexpected news revealed a startling new dimension to the murder case. “The coin was found with two others in Left Minister Konoe’s house,” Yanagisawa said. "That means he sold things to the Dazai. Things he’d obtained illegally, that he couldn’t sell on the open market.”

“And the fact that such coins were found among Konoe’s possessions meant he’d never been paid.” Eagerness animated Hoshina’s face. “So I asked my informant if the Dazai still had the merchandise. He said yes. I talked him into letting me into the warehouse where they hide stolen goods. I saw what they got from Konoe: antique kimonos, with chrysanthemum crests on the fabric. I recognized them from when I inspected the imperial storehouses.”

“Konoe stole from the palace?” Yanagisawa struggled to fathom the notion of the metsuke spy as a thief. “Why?” Then he shook his head. “The Dazai wouldn’t have asked; all they would care about was the money they could make by selling imperial treasure to rich collectors.”

“But I know why,” Hoshina said excitedly. “The kimonos weren’t all that Konoe had sold the Dazai. He’d been bringing them valuable artifacts for years, a little at a time. But here’s the most interesting part: After selling the things, the Dazai didn’t pay Konoe. Some of the gold they kept, as part of a secret deal they had with him. The rest they delivered to a priest at Lord Ibe’s house, along with weapons and ammunition. Do you know what that means?”

It meant that he and Sano had completely misunderstood a critical element of the murder case, Yanagisawa realized. “Konoe was behind the imperial restoration attempt,” he said, stunned by the revelation. “The troops were armed with money raised by stealing palace treasure.” Not through loans from the bank to which Yanagisawa had followed Jokyōden’s messenger; not with payments made by Ichijo during secret meetings at the Ear Mound. “Konoe’s deal with the Dazai must have been a pact to combine forces to overthrow the Tokugawa. He got the revolt under way, and his allies carried on after his death. Merciful gods…”

“The spy was the traitor!” Hoshina exclaimed.

“Sano and I assumed that the revolt was the reason for Left Minister Konoe’s murder.” Chagrin overwhelmed Yanagisawa. “But if he was responsible for the plot, he didn’t die because the killer wanted to keep him from reporting it to the bakufu.”

“Therefore the plot had nothing to do with Konoe’s death,” Hoshina said.

“I just can’t accept that!” Yanagisawa restlessly paced the street.

“We can’t ignore the facts,” Hoshina said. “As soon as this complication is out of the way-” he gestured toward the battlefield “-we can go back to the palace and find out the truth about Konoe’s murder.”