Laura Rowland - The Perfumed Sleeve

Menace, scorn for Sano’s stubbornness, and pity mingled in his voice. His meaning was clear: If Sano failed to solve the crimes, he couldn’t expect either faction to protect him from punishment as he could have if he’d allied himself with one or the other. And Yanagisawa had just revoked the truce that had shielded Sano against attacks from him.

“As for you…” The shogun pointed a trembling finger at Yanagisawa, Lord Matsudaira, and Hoshina. His eyes shone with the atavistic fear of a man confronted by evil spirits. “I don’t want to see any of you again until, ahh, I am certain that you did not kill Daiemon or Senior Elder Makino.”

Concern marked Yanagisawa’s, Lord Matsudaira’s, and Hoshina’s faces. Sano saw that this meeting had worsened their situation, too. Their open attacks on each other had backfired, and they’d all lost the shogun’s trust. Without it, one faction might crush the other but fail to reach the ultimate goal of dominating the present regime or the next. To what lengths would they go to recoup this critical ammunition that could determine the victor?

“You are dismissed,” the shogun said, flapping his hand at Sano, Lord Matsudaira, Chamberlain Yanagisawa, and their men. As they rose, so did Yoritomo. The shogun reached toward him and caught the hem of his robe. “You may stay.”

Sano saw the triumphant look that Yanagisawa flashed at Lord Matsudaira as they all led their men from the reception hall. Lord Matsudaira scowled in reply. Yanagisawa had entered the meeting as a man in extreme jeopardy and left it with a slim advantage: His potential successor to the dictatorship was alive, while Lord Matsudaira’s was gone.

Outside the palace, a wintry wind rattled the bare, black branches of the trees. Gray clouds trapped the rising sun and darkened the sky. Lord Matsudaira and Chamberlain Yanagisawa ranged themselves and their troops against each other.

“I won’t wait for Sōsakan Sano to deliver you to justice for killing my nephew,” Lord Matsudaira told the chamberlain. An ugly smile bared his teeth; hatred, grief, and fury raged like wildfire in his eyes. “I’ll avenge his death myself. My retribution will begin this very day.”

“Then so will your demise,” Chamberlain Yanagisawa said, equally hostile.

The two foes and their troops stalked away. Sano suddenly saw his personal concerns dwarfed by the perils that faced Japan. The murder of Daiemon had escalated political strife to the point of war.

Thousands of soldiers marched through Edo. Banner bearers waved flags; horses in battle caparison carried swordsmen, archers sporting bows and arrows, and gunners equipped with arquebuses. Foot soldiers held their spears high. Pale rays of morning sun glinted on armor. As the armies moved along the main street, commanders shouted orders; drummers conveyed signals to troops. War trumpets blared while townspeople exclaimed at the sight of such a great military force, unseen since the civil wars that had ended almost a century ago.

A short distance away, Reiko and three other maids walked behind a palanquin in which rode Senior Elder Makino’s widow and concubine. Mounted guards and male servants on foot escorted the women. Reiko shivered with cold in her thin cloak and cotton robes, hungry after a meager breakfast of gruel and tea, fatigued from her first night in the servants’ quarters of Makino’s estate.

It had been almost midnight when the servants were finally excused from work. Reiko had endured a bath in a communal tub of scummy, lukewarm water, then retired to quarters so crowded that she could hardly move on her narrow pallet without bumping someone. Snores, coughs, mutters, and biting fleas kept her awake. Before dawn, the housekeeper Yasue had bustled through the room, beating wooden clappers and ordering everyone out of bed. She’d allowed them barely enough time to dash to the reeking privies outside and wash themselves with ice-cold water in buckets. Then Reiko had cleaned fish until sent out with Agemaki and Okitsu on a shopping expedition. At last she had another chance to spy on them.

Now a horde of troops galloped by, squeezing Reiko and her companions against a wall. Reiko was alarmed to see the Matsudaira and Yanagisawa clan crests on their armor. Excited cries arose from the other maids: “Where can all those soldiers be going? What’s happening?”

Lord Matsudaira and Chamberlain Yanagisawa must have declared war, Reiko realized. What had finally ignited the war? Cut off from her husband, Reiko could only wonder. But she had a premonition that solving the murder case might be more important now than ever. As the procession began moving again, she hurried after Agemaki and Okitsu.

Lady Yanagisawa disembarked from her palanquin outside the sōsakan-sama’s estate. Her legs were so wobbly and her head so dizzy that she almost fell. Recent, momentous events in her life had caused her a turmoil never before experienced. Her body still burned with the memory of the chamberlain’s caresses; she heard again his every tender word. But other, less pleasant memories intruded.

The conditions attached to his love were even more appalling than Lady Yanagisawa had at first thought. A black, noxious cesspool in her mind churned with thoughts she didn’t want to think. Nausea born of guilt and revulsion spoiled her anticipation of the rewards to come. She wavered among exhilaration, horror, and the temptation to give up now and avoid further torment. But she’d come this far, and the gods hadn’t struck her down as punishment for treachery committed or intended. She must go the rest of the way toward fulfilling her husband’s wishes.

She stumbled up to the guards at the gate and said, “I want to see Lady Reiko.”

“She isn’t here,” said a guard.

Lady Yanagisawa gasped and stared in surprise. She hadn’t expected to be thwarted by the simple mishap of Reiko’s absence. Her need to please her husband reinforced her need to be with her friend. Struck by her constant suspicion that Reiko wished to avoid her, she told the guard, “I don’t believe you.” Her voice shook as tremors rippled her muscles. “Take me to Lady Reiko at once!”

“I’m sorry, but that’s impossible,” the other guard said. “When she returns, I’ll tell her you called.”

Crazed by frustration, Lady Yanagisawa began screaming at the men. The commotion brought one of the sōsakan-sama’s detectives hurrying out the gate. He tried to calm her while she demanded to see Reiko.

“You can come back later,” he said.

“I know she’s here!” Lady Yanagisawa shrieked. “She has to receive me!”

After much argument, the detective said, “Very well-you can see for yourself that Lady Reiko isn’t home.”

Lady Yanagisawa ran in the gate, past the barracks, and across the courtyard; the detective hurried after her. She rushed through the mansion to the private quarters. Maids busy with their chores exclaimed in surprise. Lady Yanagisawa burst, panting and wild-eyed, into the nursery. There, the old nursemaid O-sugi sat playing with Reiko’s little son Masahiro amid his toys. But Reiko was nowhere in sight.

“Where is your mistress?” Lady Yanagisawa demanded.

O-sugi regarded her with stern disapproval. “Not here. She left yesterday.”

“Where did she go?” Hysteria rose in Lady Yanagisawa.

“I don’t know.”

“When will she be back?”

The old nursemaid shook her head. The detective propelled Lady Yanagisawa from the house. Lady Yanagisawa uttered a groan of despair. Everyone was in league against her, conspiring to deny her access to Reiko and her chance to carry out her husband’s wishes. But her determination strengthened, even as a voice inside her whispered that Reiko’s absence was a sign from fate that she could renege on her bargain with the chamberlain and lessen the measure of her sins. She must find Reiko. She must do whatever was necessary to win the love of her husband and satisfy the desires he’d awakened in her.