Laura Rowland: The Iris Fan

Sano couldn’t figure out why.

“Oh, well, then.” Yanagisawa’s look said that of course a wife would lie to support her husband.

Sano studied Yanagisawa, whom he hadn’t seen in four years. At age fifty-one, Yanagisawa exemplified how handsome a man can remain as he gets older. Red and bronze satin robes infused color into his skin, still firm over strongly modeled bones. Silver threads in his glossy black hair enhanced his masculine beauty. But his eyes, which had once gleamed as if made of liquid darkness, were now dry and hot like stones baked in a fire. Viewing him and Lord Ienobu side by side, Sano had the odd sense that Ienobu thrived by sucking Yanagisawa’s marrow.

“Why are you so quick to believe he’s innocent?” Sano pointed at Ienobu. “He had the best motive for Yoshisato’s murder. It cleared the way for him to become the next shogun.”

“So you told me more than four years ago,” Yanagisawa said with a tired air. “So you’ve been saying ever since, to anyone who’ll listen.”

“May I remind you again, there’s no evidence that anyone besides Korika was involved in the arson,” Lord Ienobu said.

“How did she get to the heir’s residence, set it on fire, and leave without being caught?” Sano demanded. “The residence was heavily guarded. And there’s new evidence that she had help.” He explained about Manabe and the other men. “I think they killed Yoshisato’s guards. That’s why Korika wasn’t caught.”

“My men have an alibi,” Ienobu said.

“Your men are one another’s alibi. There’s nothing else to prove they weren’t at the heir’s residence murdering Yoshisato.”

“There’s nothing to prove they were, either,” Ienobu said

“I say Manabe and his henchmen killed Yoshisato as well as the guards, and the fire only disguised the real cause of their deaths.”

Yanagisawa shook his head sadly. “You’ve come up with some wild stories in the past, but this time you’ve gone completely insane.”

“Me? That’s the coal calling the ink black! You’re the one who wanted to put Yoshisato at the head of the regime. You’re the one who lost your chance to rule Japan when Yoshisato died. Lord Ienobu was Yoshisato’s rival and your enemy, yet you joined forces with him when Yoshisato’s ashes were barely cold!” Perplexed, Sano said, “Why?”

The arid heat in Yanagisawa’s eyes flared, as if with anger smoldering beneath his calm façade. “I’ve let bygones be bygones. You really should try it. It would make your life easier.”

“How could you? I know you cared about Yoshisato. I saw how upset you were when you saw his burned corpse.” Yanagisawa grimaced, as if more vexed at Sano for bringing up trivia than grieved by the loss of his son. Lord Ienobu watched them complacently. “It wasn’t just because you’d lost your political pawn. You loved him.” A father himself, Sano recognized paternal love when he saw it. And Sano had contended with Yanagisawa for so long that they were almost mystically attuned to each other. “You were devastated that Yoshisato was gone. How could you sell him out by allying with his enemy?”

“Lord Ienobu and I were enemies, yes,” Yanagisawa said smoothly, “but we decided it would be best for both of us if we teamed up.”

“You mean you decided to hitch your cart to the shogun’s new heir.”

“If you cooperated with Lord Ienobu instead of beating your head against a stone wall,” Yanagisawa said, “you would be better off. And so would your family.”

His family was the only reason Sano regretted opposing Ienobu. They’d suffered badly on account of it.

“You really should have accepted the deal I offered you,” Lord Ienobu said.

Several times he’d offered Sano respectable posts in the regime in exchange for ceasing the campaign to prove him guilty of Yoshisato’s murder and knock him out of line for the succession. Sano had turned Ienobu down flat. It was a point of contention between Sano and Reiko.

Angry at Yanagisawa and determined to shake some sense into him, Sano asked, “Don’t you want to avenge Yoshisato’s death? Why won’t you help me bring his murderer to justice? You owe it to the shogun, if not to Yoshisato or yourself. You’re a miserable excuse for a samurai!”

“False accusations against Lord Ienobu didn’t get me on your side. Insults certainly won’t.” The hostility in Yanagisawa’s eyes said he hadn’t forgotten their two decades of bad blood. Maybe the bad blood was enough to make him think Ienobu was innocent rather than believe anything Sano said, but Sano sensed something terribly off about Yanagisawa.

“What’s wrong with you?” Sano asked in honest, concerned bewilderment.

Lord Ienobu raised a hand. “Sano- san , you’ve used up your last chance to stop your ridiculous investigation. I’m going to put an end to it once and for all.”

“How? You’ll kick me out of the regime?” Sano laughed scornfully. “If you could, you already would have. The fact that I’m still here must mean the shogun either still has some affection for me or he isn’t sure I’m wrong about you. You can demote me to cleaning toilets, but I’ll prove you’re guilty of murder and treason.”

Lord Ienobu grinned; his lips peeled back from his protruding teeth. “Things have changed. I’ve been appointed Acting Shogun. Until His Excellency recovers from the measles, I have the power to do as I like.”

Sano was too shocked to hide his dismay. “Appointed by whom?”

Yanagisawa smiled, sharing Ienobu’s triumph. “The Council of Elders.” The four old men on the Council comprised Japan’s principal governing body and the shogun’s top advisors. “They decided Lord Ienobu should take charge temporarily.”

“When did this happen?”

“Today.”

The lower Sano fell, the longer it took news to trickle down to him. He’d unwittingly made a bad mistake by going after Manabe and his henchmen tonight, when the stakes had just risen drastically. A cold, dreadful hollow formed in Sano’s gut. He’d been courting disaster for more than four years, and now it was here.

Lord Ienobu opened his mouth to pronounce the words that would make Sano a rōnin -masterless samurai-and strip him of his livelihood and his place in society. Thrown out on the streets, his family would starve and Sano would forever lose his chance to bring Lord Ienobu to justice. Yanagisawa wore a strange smile-glee mixed with pain. Before Ienobu could speak or Sano could protest, Manabe rushed into the room.

“Excuse me, my lord. There’s an emergency in the palace. The shogun has been stabbed!”

Shocked silence greeted the news that Sano couldn’t believe. Security in the palace was the tightest in Japan. How could someone have stabbed the shogun? Sano’s shock turned to horror, and not just because his lord, the reason for a samurai’s existence, had been attacked. If the shogun was dead, then Lord Ienobu was the new dictator. Sano wouldn’t just lose his place in the regime and his samurai status, Lord Ienobu would put Sano and his family to death before the funeral rites for the old shogun were over.

Ienobu gaped. Elation visibly rose up in him like gas bubbles in stagnant pond water as he saw his dream of ruling Japan within reach.

Yanagisawa looked like he’d been shot. His handsome face was pale, drained of blood. Sano frowned in surprise. After supporting Ienobu for more than four years, Yanagisawa should be thrilled by the news of the stabbing, but he obviously wasn’t. He didn’t even seem glad that Ienobu’s rise to power would mean the end of Sano. His stricken eyes focused inward.

“Is my uncle…?” Lord Ienobu’s voice trailed off as if he dared not speak the word. He held it in his mouth like a child savoring a piece of candy.