Laura Rowland - The Iris Fan

He was impatient to know his attacker’s identity; delay was a luxury that a man gravely injured couldn’t afford. It was Sano’s duty now, more than ever, to give the shogun what he wanted. Vengeance might be the shogun’s last wish-a solemn demand that Sano couldn’t refuse to fulfill. It came down to a choice between his lord versus Madam Chizuru and Lord Ienobu.

That was no choice.

But although Sano still disbelieved the confession, he must give it the benefit of the doubt. “Let’s hear what Lord Ienobu has to say for himself.”

“Find him. Bring him here,” Yanagisawa told Lieutenant Haneda. “Don’t tell him why.”

Soon Haneda and his troops brought in Lord Ienobu, accompanied by Manabe. Excitement flushed Ienobu’s usually sallow complexion. His lips stretched over his big teeth in a grin. “You sent for me just in time, Uncle.” He obviously thought the shogun meant to take him back into his favor. “I was ready to vacate the heir’s residence. Now I won’t have to-”

He noticed Yanagisawa and Yoshisato. Yanagisawa smiled a wolfish smile at him. Yoshisato’s straight face was equally malevolent. Ienobu looked around the room and saw Sano, Marume, and Masahiro. Alarm inverted his grin. “What’s going on here?”

Sano almost felt sorry for Ienobu. “I’ve found evidence that you conspired to assassinate the shogun.”

“You’re under arrest,” Yanagisawa said in a tone vibrant with glee.

“What are you talking about?” Lord Ienobu demanded.

Yoshisato spoke in a cold voice as sharp as the needles that had etched the tattoos on his skin. “Your accomplice betrayed you.”

“What accomplice?”

“Oh, spare me the innocent act,” Yanagisawa said. “You know it’s Madam Chizuru.”

Sano wasn’t so sure Ienobu was acting. He seemed genuinely flabbergasted. Then again, Ienobu’s talents had surprised Sano in the past.

“Madam Chizuru?” Ienobu’s eyes bulged as he realized that the connection between him and his spy in the Large Interior was an open secret.

“She confessed that she stabbed the shogun and you told her to do it,” Yoshisato said.

Ienobu sputtered. “She’s lying! I never told her any such thing!”

“I believe her,” the shogun said weakly through a fog of opium, fever, and pain. “You tried to have me assassinated! You, my own nephew!”

“Uncle, I swear on my honor I didn’t!” Ienobu said.

With a strength born of anger, the shogun lifted his head from his pillow. “You have no honor! You flattered me and pretended to love me so that I trusted you. And then you betrayed my trust.” The pain constricted his voice. “You ought to be ashamed of yourself!”

Ienobu turned on Sano. “You made Madam Chizuru incriminate me!”

Stung by the accusation and the insult to his honor, Sano was forced to defend the confession. “I didn’t make her. She confessed voluntarily.”

“That’s right,” Yanagisawa said. “There are plenty of witnesses.”

“Uncle, this is a trick! They’re all in league against me! They’ve set me up to take the fall so that he can inherit the dictatorship!” Ienobu pointed his bony finger at Yoshisato.

“ You’re trying to trick me! ” The shogun’s voice was shrill with fury. “Haven’t you hurt me enough already?” He sobbed and moaned. “Can’t you at least be honest?”

“I didn’t tell Madam Chizuru to kill you. She’s lying!” Ienobu was too distraught to think up a better defense than denying his guilt. “I’m being framed!”

Doubts about Madam Chizuru’s confession, suspicion about Yanagisawa’s possible role in it, and the passion in Ienobu’s manner nudged Sano toward deciding, against his wishes, that Ienobu really was innocent.

“Lord Ienobu would say the sky was green if he thought it would save his ugly skin,” Yanagisawa said.

“Lord Ienobu had your daughter killed. He had me kidnapped,” Yoshisato reminded the shogun. “You were the last remaining obstacle between him and the dictatorship.”

Easily persuaded while in his miserable state, anxious to believe the person responsible for it had been unmasked, the shogun said, “He’s right! You never cared about me. All you wanted was my position. Well, I won’t let you have it. Take him away! Put him to death!”

“Wait!” Ienobu turned to Sano, the man he’d tormented for more than four years, now his only ally among the company. “Tell my uncle he’s wrong! Make him understand!”

Sano was sorely tempted to let matters take their course. Masahiro put his finger to his lips, and Marume waved his hands, urging Sano to give Ienobu up, but Sano couldn’t stand by while a possibly innocent man was framed. “Your Excellency, suppose you put Lord Ienobu to death. If something happens to Yoshisato, who will inherit the regime?”

The shogun was dumbstruck by this new concern. He’d apparently forgotten that Lord Yoshimune was third in a long line of relatives eligible for the succession.

“Nothing’s going to happen to me,” Yoshisato said quickly; he’d perceived Sano’s intention.

“Surely my son won’t die before I do,” the shogun protested feebly. “Look at me.”

“He’s already been kidnapped,” Sano reminded them.

Yanagisawa had caught on, too; he hurried to head Sano off. “That was Lord Ienobu’s doing, Your Excellency. All the more reason to get rid of him-so that Yoshisato will be safe.”

“Safe from man-made danger, perhaps,” Sano said, “but he could be killed by a disease or an earthquake, and then who will be your heir, with your nephew gone?”

The shogun paled with consternation. “Why, I, ahh, haven’t had time to think about it.”

“You should think about it.” Sano spoke bluntly; he had no time for tact. “You need Lord Ienobu.”

Ienobu scowled, insulted because Sano had styled him as nothing but a backup for the shogun’s preferred choice of an heir, but he knew better than to deride the hole-ridden logic that Sano was weaving like a net to catch him as he fell.

“Your Excellency doesn’t need the man who tried to have you assassinated.” Yanagisawa brought the subject back to Ienobu’s alleged guilt. Furious and exasperated, he said, “This discussion is so far off the point!”

Sano was only borrowing a page from Yanagisawa’s book: Yanagisawa would steer a discussion to the far ends of the earth to achieve a desired aim. “The point is, Your Excellency has a choice.” He talked fast and loud before Yanagisawa or Yoshisato could get a word in. “Decide who should be your alternate heir or have the decision made for you later.”

The shogun groaned as if his wounded gut were a rope in a tug-of-war. “Merciful gods, I’m too ill to think about it.”

“But you could delay Lord Ienobu’s death until I find out whether Madam Chizuru’s confession is true,” Sano said, “and if it’s not, then you’ll be glad you waited.”

“Those aren’t the only choices!” Yanagisawa protested.

“I only ask Your Excellency to delay it for one day.” Sano knew this was an impossibly short time. He hoped it was enough for him to verify or disprove the confession.

“Very well,” the shogun said. “One day. I may not have much longer.”

Yanagisawa said, “But Your Excellency,” and Yoshisato began, “Honorable Father,” as the shogun convulsed in dry heaves. “I can’t bear any more talk!” He begged the doctor, “Merciful gods, give me some more opium, I’m in agony!”

Lord Ienobu scrambled for the door, followed by Manabe, before the shogun could change his mind. He gave Sano a grudging look that said, I owe you.

Outside the chamber, Yanagisawa said to Sano, “Knock down that confession and we’ll see each other in hell.” As he and Yoshisato walked away together, Yoshisato flung Sano a backward, enigmatic glance.