Laura Rowland - The Shogun's Daughter

“I’d like to talk to the members of your household,” Sano said.

Surprised by the change of subject, Lord Tsunanori drew back from Sano with appalled realization. “You didn’t come here to offer condolences, did you? That was just a pretense. You think Tsuruhime was murdered, and you’re out to get me for it!”

“You’ve given me reason to think you’re guilty.” Sano could easily imagine Lord Tsunanori getting fed up with Tsuruhime and feeling driven to kill her as a last resort. “I’ve no choice but to investigate.” He had a duty to obtain justice for his lord’s daughter, no matter if it wasn’t Yanagisawa he brought down. Sano rose; so did Marume. “I’m going to talk to your household members. I’m also going to inspect Tsuruhime’s room.”

Lord Tsunanori stood, swayed, pointed his finger at Sano, and shouted, “Get out of my house, or I’ll throw you out.”

His men rushed in. Gathering around him, they glared at Sano and Marume. Sano smelled nerves burning alcohol out of them. Lord Tsunanori’s face flushed and muscles engorged with combat lust. Samurai instinct urged Sano to fight, but a brawl with Lord Tsunanori was too dangerous for another reason besides the fact that he had a huge army at his disposal. The other daimyo already resented the government for draining their treasuries to pay for rebuilding Edo. Sano had barely managed to stave off one rebellion since the earthquake. The daimyo might seize on his clash with Lord Tsunanori as a pretext to launch another.

To defuse the conflict, Sano spoke in a mild tone. “If you’re innocent, you should be glad to cooperate with my investigation. If you don’t cooperate, that would mean you have something to hide.”

Lord Tsunanori shifted his weight as contradictory emotions pulled at him. His eyes flashed with anger because Sano had saddled him with a dilemma, but he wasn’t drunk enough or stupid enough not to foresee the serious consequences of violence against a government official. The cash-strapped regime would welcome the excuse to confiscate his wealth.

“Very well.” Glad to avoid a fight while saving face in front of his men, Lord Tsunanori gestured as if tossing garbage at Sano’s feet. “Interrogate my household. Search my wife’s room. You won’t find any evidence against me.” He spoke with such confidence that Sano wondered if he was really innocent or really sure he’d covered his tracks. He told his men, “Go collect everybody for Chamberlain Sano to talk to.”

They departed. Aggression flared in Lord Tsunanori’s eyes again. “If you go around saying my wife was murdered and I’m under suspicion, you’ll be sorry.” He wasn’t drunk or stupid enough not to recognize how dangerous the suspicion could be to him, or not to know the trouble that he and the other daimyo could cause Sano and the Tokugawa regime.

“Good enough.” Sano pretended grudging concession, hid his relief that he could count on Lord Tsunanori to keep quiet about the investigation.

It was the only bright spot in his investigation, which was already going wrong, leading away from Yanagisawa.

The Shogun’s heir’s residence was isolated in the western fortress of Edo Castle, on the tier of the hill just below the palace. Enclosed by stone walls topped by covered corridors and a guard tower, the residence was a miniature version of the palace. Damage from the earthquake had been repaired. The residence was a safe nest from which the new dictator of Japan would eventually hatch.

Yanagisawa strode through the chambers, sliding open the partitions between them, admiring the gilded landscape murals, smelling the fresh, sweetly scented tatami, and exulting in the territory he’d won in this round of his battle for power.

“I’ve done it. We’re here at last, set to rule Japan!”

At the opposite end of the building, Yoshisato stood in his new room. He rearranged books and clothes that the servants had unpacked. “What do you mean, we? I’m the one who will inherit the dictatorship.”

Stung by his ungraciousness, Yanagisawa said, “You couldn’t have gotten here by yourself.” He moved toward Yoshisato. “Whose idea was it to pass you off as the shogun’s son?”

“Yours,” Yoshisato admitted grudgingly. He rammed books onto shelves.

“Well, then.” Yanagisawa prided himself on the brilliant scheme he’d dreamed up after he’d lost his favorite son, after Ienobu had devised a plot to banish him from court. Yoshisato, one of his other four sons, was his salvation. “Don’t forget how hard I’ve worked to convince the shogun, his clan members, and his top officials that you are indeed his son. Don’t forget how much money I’ve paid in bribes to persuade people to support your bid for the succession.”

“Don’t forget that it wasn’t your money. It came from my allowance from the shogun.”

“Without me you wouldn’t have that allowance. So you shouldn’t mind if I celebrate our accomplishment.”

“Do it by yourself. Now that I’m the shogun’s heir, I don’t need you anymore.”

Fear stabbed Yanagisawa. He’d known that the day he put Yoshisato in line to become the next dictator could be the day he outlived his usefulness to Yoshisato. They’d been at odds during their four-month collaboration. It was a miracle that they’d come this far together.

“You do need me.” Yanagisawa had to convince Yoshisato. One bad word from him, and the shogun would throw Yanagisawa out of the regime. Yanagisawa’s enemies would descend on him like a pack of wolves. “I’m the one with a lifetime of experience in politics. You’re just a seventeen-year-old boy. Without me, you’d be eaten alive.”

“I won’t be seventeen forever,” Yoshisato said, irritated because Yanagisawa was right. He meticulously folded clothes into drawers. “And I’ve learned a lot.”

“With my tutoring,” Yanagisawa reminded him. “And I got rid of witnesses who could have testified that your mother never slept with the shogun.” He’d scoured the city clean of officials and servants who’d worked in the castle at the time Lady Someko was purported to have been the shogun’s concubine. He’d also cleared out people in his own household who knew she’d been sharing his bed at the time Yoshisato was conceived. He’d bribed the witnesses to keep quiet, threatened them, sent them to faraway places, and had the most dangerous ones assassinated. “You couldn’t have done that for yourself. And you need me to deal with the false witnesses who are sure to crop up.” How he resented having to justify his worth to this insolent young man!

Yoshisato glowered, resentful of his own need. “All right. You can stay until the shogun dies and I take over. Then you go.”

That the dictatorship would someday be entirely in Yoshisato’s hands! Yanagisawa forced a scornful laugh. “If you think you’ll be fine on your own once you’re shogun, then you’re a fool. There are many Tokugawa relatives who would like to rule Japan themselves. When the shogun’s not around to protect you, they’ll rise up against you. I’m the one who has powerful allies to back you with their armies.”

“You also have powerful enemies. As long as you’re with me, they’re my enemies, too. When I dump you, they’ll accept me as their lord.”

“I’ve heard your lame political theories before: Get rid of me, and my enemies will be so grateful, they’ll let you rule happily ever after. What you don’t understand is that bad blood runs deep. My enemies won’t forget that you’re my protégé. They’ll destroy you as revenge on me. And Sano will lead the charge. You shouldn’t have insisted on keeping him in the regime.”

“That’s the price you pay for my cooperating with your plot,” Yoshisato said with a grin. “Let Sano stay, or I tell the shogun I’m not his son and you made me pretend to be.”