Laura Rowland - The Shogun's Daughter

Tears glistened in Akiko’s eyes. “You left me.” Her angry voice wobbled. “You went away and left me.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” More guilt pained Reiko. Not only was the baby’s death her fault, but she’d hurt her daughter. “Let me explain.” She extended her hand. “Sit with me.”

Akiko looked at Reiko’s hand as if it held dung that Reiko was trying to pass off as candy. But she came, against her will, and knelt by Reiko.

Reiko exerted herself to choose words that a child would understand. “I didn’t want to leave you. I never do. But there will be times when I must. Yesterday I left because I needed to do things to save your life.” She spoke with all the sincerity and gentleness that her grieving spirit could muster. “You’re my little girl, and I would do anything for you because I love you.”

Akiko’s face worked. She was obviously torn between wanting to believe Reiko and not wanting to be placated so easily and hurt again. Then her tears spilled. “It’s my fault the baby died,” she blurted out. “Because I didn’t want it.”

Surprise and alarm stunned Reiko. While she’d been feeling guilty about Akiko, her daughter had been harboring an unfounded guilt about her. Reiko gathered Akiko in her arms. “No, it’s not your fault. Just because you think something, that doesn’t make it happen.”

Stiff and resisting at first, Akiko relaxed as she sobbed. Reiko soothed her with pats and murmurs. Soon Akiko pulled away, uncomfortable with too much closeness. But she skipped out of the room, light enough to fly.

Reiko was glad that the baby was the only child she’d lost.

A servant ushered in Lady Nobuko, the last person Reiko wanted to see. Lady Nobuko knelt, bowed, and offered Reiko a gift-wrapped box. “I’ve brought you some herbs from my doctor. They’re good for women who have miscarried.”

Reiko made no move to take the box. “Why are you here? Our business is finished.”

Lady Nobuko raised her eyebrows at Reiko’s discourtesy. She set the box by the bed. “I wanted to express my condolences and to thank you and your husband for bringing Lord Tsunanori to justice.” She looked extraordinarily well. The spasm around her eye was slight today. “When he commits seppuku, I shall be there to watch.” Her gaunt face seemed fuller, with satisfaction. “My only regret is that he won’t suffer for as long as Tsuruhime did. All in all, things couldn’t have turned out better.”

Reiko couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “A young man was burned to death. You call that good?”

“Yoshisato deserved to die,” Lady Nobuko said, unfazed by Reiko’s repugnance. “And Yanagisawa deserves to be punished for his plot to take over the regime. The loss of his pawn was divine retribution.”

“There was nothing divine about it,” Reiko said. “Korika murdered Yoshisato. She’s dead, too. Don’t you care? Or are you just glad that the shogun decided she was solely to blame and he’s not punishing you?”

Lady Nobuko smiled condescendingly. “You young women think the world should dance to your whims. When you’re my age, you’ll understand that everything has a price, and sometimes one must pay it and be glad to take whatever one can get.”

Reiko thought her innocent baby had paid the ultimate price of everything that had happened since she and Sano had agreed to investigate Tsuruhime’s death. She hated Lady Nobuko for her selfish, cynical attitude.

“Ienobu is going to be the next shogun,” Reiko said. “Is that a price you’re glad to pay?”

“Ienobu is a legitimate Tokugawa.”

Reiko couldn’t reveal that Ienobu had put Korika up to murdering Yoshisato and Lord Tsunanori up to murdering Tsuruhime, exercising his strange, manipulative effect on both. She’d promised Sano that she would keep it secret. Lest she yield to the temptation to blurt it out and smack the contentment off Lady Nobuko’s face, Reiko said quietly, “Please go.”

* * *

Outside the palace, Yanagisawa stormed through the grounds. Buried up to his chin in the ruins of his hopes, suffocating in anger, he could hardly breathe.

He’d lost his chance to rule Japan. He couldn’t make up a new prophecy and style one of his other sons as the shogun’s offspring. The shogun wouldn’t fall for that again.

Sano had lived to plague him another day. And with Ienobu ensconced as the shogun’s heir, Yanagisawa’s days were numbered.

How could this have happened? What in hell was he going to do?

Terror sped Yanagisawa along the paths. There was no place safe to go. Aimless flight took him to the garden behind the palace. Ienobu shuffled toward him, accompanied by two guards. Yanagisawa’s anger blasted at Ienobu, like a torch flame blown by the wind. Ienobu had exploited Yoshisato’s murder. Ienobu had won.

Yanagisawa stalked over to Ienobu. “I’ll see that you never become shogun.”

Ienobu grinned. “On the contrary-you’re going to make sure I do.”

Yanagisawa stared, incredulous. “Are you insane? I’ll kill you first.”

The guards reached for their swords. Ienobu said to them, “Let us have a private word.” After they’d moved out of earshot, he said, “You’ll change your attitude when you hear the news I have for you.” He spoke in a dramatic whisper: “Yoshisato is alive.”

Surprise momentarily tied Yanagisawa’s tongue. Then he laughed in derision. “Don’t talk nonsense.” But Ienobu’s words gave credence to his secret, irrational notion that Yoshisato wasn’t dead, that Yoshisato was coming back.

“Yoshisato didn’t die in that fire. He wasn’t murdered.” Ienobu’s bulging eyes gleamed. He knew he had Yanagisawa as surely as if he’d closed his fist around Yanagisawa’s heart.

Resisting the desire to believe a man he hated and distrusted, Yanagisawa turned away.

“Don’t you want to know what really happened the night of the fire?”

Yanagisawa kept his back to Ienobu, but he was immobilized.

“I became privy to certain conversations between Lady Nobuko and her lady-in-waiting. I deduced that Korika wanted to harm Yoshisato because of what you supposedly did to her mistress. I recognized an opportunity.”

Smug pride inflected Ienobu’s tone. Yanagisawa listened in spite of himself as Ienobu said, “The next day I paid Korika a visit. I suggested that fire was a good way to kill someone and make it look like an accident. I said that if she went out that night, she would be able to move freely without being observed. That night 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 plugged the well. They killed Yoshisato’s personal bodyguards. Then they went after Yoshisato. He put up quite a fight, but they tied him up and drugged him. Then they waited.”

Yanagisawa envisioned his son struggling as the intruders overpowered him. He turned to stare, eyes wide with shock, at Ienobu.

“Soon Korika arrived. She set the fire and ran away. Before the fire bells started ringing, before the house burned down, my men dragged the dead guards inside. Then they carried Yoshisato out. During the uproar when everyone was rushing to put out the fire, nobody paid attention to my men carrying a trunk out the back gate of the castle.”

Yanagisawa’s wish to believe the story was so fierce, it felt like a wild beast wrestling with the rational part of him that doubted Ienobu’s scenario. “There were four corpses in the ruins. Everybody was accounted for. Yoshisato didn’t get out alive.”

“The arithmetic was a slight problem.” Ienobu chuckled. “I solved it by having my men kill one of their comrades. They left his body in Yoshisato’s chamber. He was the right size.”