Laura Rowland: The Samurai’s Wife

“It was my idea.” Tomohito’s face puckered with doubt. “He was just helping me fulfill my destiny.”

Prince Momozono shook his head. “Y-you were too c-caught up in the left minister’s scheme to n-notice what he m-muttered to himself every time he d-described the wonderful future when the Imperial C-court was restored to supremacy. But I heard. He s-said, ‘Then she will love me. Sh-she will be forced to obey m-me as her husband and l-lord.’ Your Majesty, h-he planned a revolt to get power over the w-wife who left him!”

“He did it for me!” Tomohito insisted, drumming his heels on the veranda while tears spilled down his cheeks.

Then the siege of Miyako hadn’t been intended as just a drive for political power, but to satisfy an obsessive love. The “accomplishment” that Konoe had mentioned to Kozeri wasn’t his elevation to the post of imperial prime minister, Sano realized; the “special occasion” Konoe had wanted to celebrate with her wasn’t a reward for turning in a traitor. Both euphemisms had referred to his takeover of Japan, which would place her and everyone else in his power. In his last letter to Kozeri, he’d alluded to the site of the revolt, which he knew because he himself had chosen it.

Momozono knelt beside the emperor. “I c-couldn’t let the 1-left minister get you in trouble. So I k-killed him.”

Sano was horrified. He needed a confession, but not here, with nothing to deter Momozono from killing to protect the emperor and eliminate a bakufu official to whom he’d just admitted he was guilty of murder.

“You killed the left minister?” The exclamation burst from Tomohito. Then dismayed recollection came into his eyes. “The night Konoe was murdered, you were already in the Pond Garden when I got there. After we found his body, you asked where I’d been before we met. I said, in the study hall, alone. We agreed to say we’d been there together. When that other man died, I was alone in the worship hall, and you promised to say you’d been there, too. I thought you did it for my sake. But it was you who needed an alibi!”

He jumped up and began beating the prince with his fists, shouting, “You tried to ruin my future. How dare you?”

“I did it to s-save you! An anonymous 1-letter telling what the left m-minister was doing wouldn’t have b-been enough to convince the bakufu-he was too important and r-respectable. I had no choice but to k-kill him. I didn’t know that the r-revolt would go ahead after h-he was gone!” Raising his unwieldy arms in self-defense, Momozono accidentally struck Tomohito’s chin, further enraging him.

“I’ll kill you!” Tomohito howled.

“Stop!” Sano dragged Tomohito away from the prince, fearful that Momozono would turn against his cousin for failing to appreciate what he’d done. Sano considered slaying the prince, whose crimes merited the death penalty, but he abhorred killing and hoped to arrest Momozono without violence.

On his knees, head tossing, Momozono cried, “If the revolt w-were to succeed and L-left Minister Konoe seize power, h-he would have exiled me, the way he tried to years ago. Were it to f-fail, Your Majesty would have b-been executed. And what w-would have happened to m-me then?”

“Who cares about you?” Tomohito demanded, trying to maneuver around Sano so he could get at the prince.

Selfishness was at the heart of every murderer’s motive, Sano knew. Momozono had acted on the emperor’s behalf, but he’d also been defending his own precarious position. He, of all the suspects, had the most to gain by Konoe’s death and the most to lose by either his victory or defeat in a war with the Tokugawa. Only one question remained.

“Why did you kill again?” Sano asked the prince.

“I g-got the message that you were coming to the p-palace. I w-went to kill you so Lady Asagao would be f-freed and you wouldn’t discover the c-conspiracy. On my way, I c-came upon four s-samurai, walking through the palace g-grounds. I heard them t-talking. A man with a drawling voice was p-praising the leader for framing L-lady Asagao and forcing her to confess.”

Aisu and Yanagisawa and their guards, Sano thought.

“I r-realized that they were r-responsible for her arrest. They w-went on talking, and it was clear th-that they wanted to w-watch me kill you, then arrest me. It was a trap!” Momozono went into a fit of facial contortions. “I h-had to do what I’d set out to do, but I couldn’t let them c-catch me. So I went after them. Two of the m-men ran away. I k-killed the one with the drawling v-voice and trapped the 1-leader. But then I heard you c-coming. I couldn’t recover my strength quickly enough to s-scream again, so I ran away.”

A chance encounter had resulted in Aisu’s death, Sano realized, and spared his own life. If he was clever enough, fortune might favor him again.

“I commend your loyalty to His Majesty, and I understand what a terrible ordeal you’ve been through,” Sano said gently, while he sought a way to persuade Momozono to surrender himself and the emperor. What kind of favorable terms could he offer a confessed murderer? “Let’s go back to the palace where you can rest, and-”

With an effort that ripped a yell from him, the prince stood. Distress clouded the twitching muscles of his face as he said to Sano, “You treated me with m-more respect than anyone else ever has. For that I offer you my humble th-thanks. But I c-can’t let you take His M-Majesty, so I must kill you, too.”

“Wait,” Sano said, though fearfully aware that his luck had failed him. He appealed to the emperor, who stood staring at Momozono in panting fury. “Your cousin is dangerous. We have to go. Please come with me.”

“No!” Tomohito lunged at Momozono again. When Sano caught him and tried to lead him away, he tore free, cursing.

Hysterical frenzy besieged Momozono. His shrieks echoed across the hills. His face contorted, while his arms and legs flailed in a bizarre dance. Then he threw back his head and clenched his jaws. The frenzy waned, leaving Momozono eerily silent and still. His manic energy, now harnessed, emanated from him in a pale aura that absorbed the sounds of battle and distant gongs.

An ominous, familiar tension tingled the air around Sano. Its soundless vibration pulsed through him. Sudden lassitude weakened him. He reached for the long sword at his waist, but his arm moved sluggishly, as if he were dragging it through water. His spirit recoiled from the ghostly, sinister touch of Momozono’s will. Realization startled him. Contrary to popular wisdom, the power of kiai wasn’t always the product of rigorous martial arts training. In Momozono’s case, it was a symptom of his mysterious affliction. An accident of fate had made him an outcast and granted him the ultimate deadly weapon. He must have practiced his skill on those birds found dead in the palace gardens.

“What are you doing, Momo-chan?” the emperor asked. A queasy expression came over his face. “It’s scaring me. What’s that noise? Where’s that light coming from? I order you to stop!”

“My apologies, Your Majesty.” Prince Momozono had shed his stammer along with his tics; his voice was clear, steady, and full of regret. “There’s no other way. He knows 1 killed two men. He knows you were a willing participant in the rebellion. He has to die.”

Sano’s fingers, grown thick and clumsy, fumbled his sword from its scabbard. The weapon seemed a hundred times heavier than usual, and Sano’s hand too weak to bear the weight. The sword fell. The debilitating force radiating from Momozono dropped Sano to his knees; his fear turned to terror; his wish to serve justice gave way to the need to save his life.

“There’s no reason to kill me,” he choked out. “Left Minister Konoe was a traitor. By killing him, you demonstrated loyalty to the Tokugawa regime. The shogun will spare you the death sentence, maybe even pardon you altogether.”