Laura Rowland: The Iris Fan

The physician applied a numbing potion to the edges of a cut between the shogun’s ribs. When he inserted the needle, the shogun moaned, but quietly: The opium was taking effect. “Nephew, come here.” The shogun extended his trembling hand toward Lord Ienobu.

Ienobu hesitated, reluctant to go near the shogun, fearful of measles, but he didn’t dare refuse, lest the shogun get angry and disinherit him. As he knelt beside the bed, the shogun gripped his hand tightly; he winced. The doctor stitched. Ienobu averted his face as the needle went in and out of flesh. Sano contemplated the whimpering shogun. Although Bushido decreed that a samurai should feel nothing but respect and loyalty toward his lord, at times Sano had hated the shogun for his selfishness, unfairness, and cruelty. But now the lord he’d served for twenty years was a suffering old man. Sano felt the same outrage as he did on behalf of any helpless victim of a crime. His spirit clamored to avenge the attack on his lord.

The physician knotted and cut the last thread, slathered healing balm on the stitched cuts, bandaged them, and covered the shogun with a clean quilt. Yanagisawa said to him, “May I have a word?” and drew him out to the corridor.

Lord Ienobu started to follow, but the shogun clutched his hand. “Stay with me, Nephew.”

Ienobu shot Yanagisawa a warning glance. Sano became aware that something was different between his two enemies since they’d heard about the attack on the shogun. The political game board was rearranging, the players in transit to new positions. The crisis had created new opportunities as well as troubles, and not the least for Sano himself.

Now the shogun noticed Sano. The pupils of his eyes were dilated by the opium; he smiled groggily, as if he’d forgotten he’d banned Sano from court and he was welcoming a dear, long-lost friend. “You stay, too, Sano- san .”

In the corridor, Yanagisawa quietly asked the physician, “What’s the prognosis?”

“His Excellency may have internal hemorrhaging. His wounds may fester. There’s a danger of permanent damage to his organs-”

“Don’t tell me what might happen!” Anxiety raised Yanagisawa’s voice, and he struggled to control himself. He didn’t want Sano to hear him, guess how much he didn’t want the shogun to die, and wonder why. He couldn’t let Ienobu know how desperately afraid he was. “Tell me if he’s going to survive.”

The physician hesitated, clearly reluctant to be negative lest he bring bad luck to the shogun, yet not wanting to hold out false promise. “That he’s still alive is a good sign, but his condition is very serious.”

Dread sank Yanagisawa’s heart. If the shogun died, it would mean the end of Yanagisawa’s alliance with Lord Ienobu, the end of his ambition to rule Japan someday, the end of his life. But that wasn’t the worst. The shogun’s death would also mean the end of Yanagisawa’s hopes of saving the only person in the world he loved.

“If you’ll excuse me,” the physician said, “I must tend to my patient.”

Yanagisawa stood alone in the corridor, remembering his shock at the news he’d received the day after Yoshisato’s funeral. He’d been standing outside the palace, with the smell of smoke and burned flesh in the air, when Lord Ienobu spoke the words that turned the world upside down.

“Yoshisato is alive. He didn’t die in that fire.”

At first Yanagisawa hadn’t believed it. Then Ienobu had explained. “I told Korika that if she set a fire that night, she wouldn’t be caught. I arranged for the castle guards to be absent from their posts. Korika went to the heir’s residence. Five of my men got there first. They killed Yoshisato’s personal bodyguards, tied up Yoshisato, and drugged him. Korika set the fire, and ran away. Before the house burned down, my men dragged the dead bodyguards inside. They killed one of their comrades and left his corpse in Yoshisato’s chamber. Then they carried Yoshisato out of the castle in a trunk.”

“Why would you save Yoshisato?” Yanagisawa demanded. “If he’s alive, he’s the shogun’s first choice for an heir.”

“I have enemies who don’t want me to be the next shogun,” Ienobu said. “I need you to help me neutralize them. When I’m shogun, you can have Yoshisato back.”

Then Lord Ienobu had produced a letter written by Yoshisato, that had demolished all Yanagisawa’s doubts about whether Ienobu was telling the truth.

“Where is he?” Yanagisawa demanded.

“In a guarded, secret place,” Ienobu said. “Breathe a word of this conversation to anyone, and you’ll never see him again.”

“I’ll kill you!”

“If anything bad happens to me, or if you refuse to support me as the next shogun, Yoshisato dies for real.”

Yanagisawa had known that Ienobu meant to string him along until Ienobu was shogun; then Ienobu would kill Yoshisato. The only way for Yanagisawa to save Yoshisato was to find him before the current shogun died and Ienobu didn’t need a hostage anymore. The only way for Yanagisawa and Yoshisato to rule Japan was to destroy Ienobu before he took over the dictatorship. For more than four years he’d been searching for Yoshisato. He had spies secretly combing Japan while he acted the role of Ienobu’s vigilant ally. He’d exiled some of Ienobu’s enemies within the government to faraway islands, demoted others or dispatched them to posts in the provinces. That had brought other men hostile to Ienobu into line. Although Yanagisawa longed to join forces with Sano to prove Ienobu was a traitor, he pretended to believe Ienobu was innocent. His son’s life depended on his charade.

But every clue to Yoshisato’s whereabouts had led to a dead end, and if the shogun died, Ienobu would become dictator. He would put Yoshisato-and Yanagisawa-to death. Panic beset Yanagisawa like a horde of shouting madmen pummeling him. How could he save Yoshisato? He might have only days, hours, or moments left in which to do it.

The instincts that had served him well during three decades in politics gave Yanagisawa the first piece of his emergency strategy: He must keep the shogun alive, keep Sano under control, and keep Ienobu from gaining any further advantage.

* * *

Sano knelt on the left side of the bed. The shogun lay facing toward Ienobu on his right. The doctor knelt at the foot of the bed, Captain Hosono by the wall. The air still stank of blood and feces. The servants stirred the charcoal braziers set in the floor, fanning up heat to keep the shogun warm. Sano wished he could fling open the exterior doors and let in the cold, fresh wind. It might sweep the shock and confusion from his mind and help him think clearly.

The shogun trembled, then went still, then trembled, at irregular intervals. His hand clung to Lord Ienobu’s. Ienobu wore the proper, concerned expression, but Sano could almost see his ill will flowing like black poison from his heart, through a vein in his arm, and into the shogun. Sano wanted to tear their hands apart.

Yanagisawa returned, bringing two guards. He knelt beside the doctor and studied the shogun. “Why is he shaking?”

“He’s in shock,” the physician said.

“Then do something.” Yanagisawa’s concern, unlike Ienobu’s, seemed genuine.

“I gave him medicine. There’s nothing more I can do for him at present.”

“Well, I’ve arranged extra security for him.” Yanagisawa announced, “He’ll have two bodyguards, specially chosen by me, with him at all times.” He indicated the men he’d brought-loyal, trustworthy, longtime Tokugawa retainers. “No one is allowed to be alone with His Excellency.”

Although Sano knew that Yanagisawa was an expert actor, he had a strong sense that Yanagisawa truly didn’t want somebody to finish off the shogun. When Lord Ienobu bent a quizzical gaze on him, Yanagisawa responded with a bland look. Sano recognized that look; it masked all manner of evil intentions. Why were Yanagisawa and Ienobu suddenly at odds?