Laura Rowland - The Iris Fan

“No!” But Sano supposed that was the real reason Yoshisato had sent him here-to blackmail Lord Yoshimune into an alliance.

Lord Yoshimune shoved Sano. “Get out of my house before I kill you!” Again he’d lost his veneer of civility along with his temper and resorted to physical force. “Tell Yanagisawa he’ll rot in hell before I cave in to him!”

When Sano returned to Lord Mori’s estate, the Tokugawa troops were camped in the street, fanning their bonfires, and eating rations of dried fish, pickled vegetables, and rice balls. Sano felt their restlessness, their impatience for battle, as they raked him with their hostile gazes. Inside the estate, troops dragged guns, cannons, kegs of gunpowder, and crates of bullets from the arsenal. Lord Mori strode about with his watchdogs, inspecting the munitions. Archers on the roofs attached written messages to arrows and fired them into the estates of Lord Mori’s nearest allies. That was the securest form of communication; a message carried by hand or shouted could be intercepted by Lord Ienobu’s men. Sano found Yoshisato and Yanagisawa in the main reception chamber with Lord Mori’s officers. The chamber was now a command station. The men crouched on the floor over a huge map of Edo Castle, conversing in urgent tones as they pointed to locations on the map.

“What’s going on here?” Sano asked.

Yanagisawa and Yoshisato looked up; their faces were aglow with excitement, resolute with purpose. “We’re planning to invade Edo Castle,” Yanagisawa said.

Astonishment silenced Sano. This was wrong for so many reasons! Yanagisawa smiled thinly at his expression. “Did you swallow your tongue?”

“We’re going to capture the castle, kill Lord Ienobu, and seize the dictatorship,” Yoshisato said. “His allies will fall into line with us. Or would you rather we wait like ducks on a pond for his army to blast us out of the water?”

Sano forbore to point out the dishonor of attacking the seat of the regime they were duty-bound to serve. Yanagisawa didn’t care about that. Nor did he or Yoshisato apparently care that they were taking a huge risk. “In case you’ve forgotten, the shogun is inside Edo Castle.” Sano reminded Yoshisato, “You’re supposed to be his son, in case you’ve forgotten that, too. Attack the castle, and he could be killed.”

“My father has disowned me. We’re nothing to each other.” Yoshisato spoke in a strange tone of voice, with a sidelong glance at Yanagisawa. “If he dies during the invasion, he’ll be just another casualty of war.”

It was no more use appealing to Yanagisawa’s feelings, but Sano tried. “The shogun has been your friend for more than twenty years.” And your lover for some of them. “Would you really fight a war around him while he’s helpless in bed? Have you no loyalty at all?”

“Loyalty is beside the point,” Yanagisawa said, more impatient with than offended by Sano’s criticism. “The shogun is done for. He may be dead even as we speak. I haven’t been able to get any more news about his condition. But you can bet that if he’s still alive, Lord Ienobu will hurry him into the grave. He’s already tried to assassinate him once.”

“It looks as if Lord Ienobu isn’t responsible for the stabbing,” Sano said.

“Oh?” Yoshisato said. “What did you learn from Tomoe and Lord Yoshimune?”

Startled, Yanagisawa said, “You went to see them?”

“Yes,” Sano said.

“When was this?”

“Just now.” Sano explained about the bloodstained socks. “Tomoe admitted they’re hers, but she and Lord Yoshimune still claim she’s innocent and they were framed. Then I found this in her room.” Sano produced the letter, handed it to Yoshisato.

After Yoshisato read it aloud, Yanagisawa exclaimed in fury, “You sneaked behind my back to follow a clue that pointed to someone other than Lord Ienobu? And you criticize my loyalty?”

“I didn’t sneak,” Sano said. “Yoshisato gave me permission.”

Yanagisawa turned to glare at Yoshisato, who nodded coolly and asked Sano, “What happened with Lord Yoshimune?”

Sano explained. “He accused me of fabricating the evidence and trying to blackmail him into joining our faction. He threw me out.”

“You should have tried.” Yoshisato’s lack of surprise told Sano that really was why Yoshisato had let him pursue a line of inquiry that seemed counter to his and Yanagisawa’s interests-to force Lord Yoshimune’s allegiance.

“Did you plant the letter in his estate?” Sano asked.

“No. It wouldn’t have been a bad idea, but I couldn’t have gotten in there.” Yoshisato sounded truthful; Sano believed him.

Yanagisawa’s anger encompassed both Sano and Yoshisato. “Never go behind my back again.” He jabbed his finger at Sano. “Keep quiet about this.”

“The shogun deserves to know what’s happening with the investigation,” Sano said.

“How are you going to tell him? Lord Ienobu won’t let you in the palace.” Yanagisawa said impatiently, “Enough of this. We have an invasion to plan.” He turned to the generals, who’d been eavesdropping while they pretended to study the map.

“I’m opposed to the invasion,” Sano said.

“It’s not up to you,” Yanagisawa said.

“We’re allies. I should have a say.”

Yanagisawa laughed scornfully. “You should have remembered that we were allies when you discredited Madam Chizuru’s confession. If you’d left well enough alone, Lord Ienobu wouldn’t be a problem now.”

“Don’t go through with it,” Sano said with increasing desperation.

“Skip the speech about honor. If you want to demonstrate honor, save it for the battle. In the meantime, if you’re not going to help with the plans, go prepare for your son’s wedding.”

* * *

Temple bells rang the hour of the dog. Their discordant peals echoed across the dark, misty city and sank into the anxious hush that engulfed the wedding party assembled in a small reception chamber at the Mori estate. Sano, Reiko, and Magistrate Ueda, Akiko, Midori, Taeko, and Detective Marume knelt in a row on the right side of the alcove decorated with a scroll that bore the names of Shinto deities and an altar that held rice cakes and a jar of sake. A Shinto priest in a white robe and tall white cap, and the estate’s female housekeeper, knelt in front of the alcove, near a dais on which stood a miniature pine and plum tree and bamboo grove in a flat porcelain dish, and the statues of a hare and a crane-symbols of longevity, pliancy, and fidelity. On the alcove’s left side, Yanagisawa knelt by his wife. Lord Mori sat behind Kikuko, the bride, in the center of the room. Kikuko wore a white silk kimono; a long white drape covered her face and hair. The place beside her, reserved for the groom, was vacant.

Yanagisawa leveled a warning gaze at Sano. “Your son had better show up.”

“He will,” Sano said curtly.

Reiko twisted her cold, damp hands under her sleeves. She was horrified by Masahiro’s deliberate flouting of authority, furious at him because unless he honored the bargain Sano had made, his family would lose their alliance with Yanagisawa and be thrown to Lord Ienobu like meat to a wolf. But she was even more furious at Sano. She couldn’t help hoping Masahiro would stay away. She wanted to shake Sano and curse him for getting them into this.

Sano sat there, impervious to her thoughts. Reiko remembered their own wedding, and her heart ached. She’d been so young and innocent, so fearful of marriage yet so hopeful for happiness. Now, after almost nineteen years together, the bridegroom she’d fallen in love with had sold their son into this travesty of a marriage. Everything about it was wrong. A proper wedding required two priests instead of just the one who resided at the Mori estate, and two Shinto shrine attendants instead of the housekeeper. But the troops outside wouldn’t let anybody enter the estate. The incorrect procedure seemed to put the final seal of doom on Masahiro. Reiko had wanted so much better for him! Her anger at Sano flared so hotly, she thought that if she looked directly at him she would catch on fire.