Laura Rowland - The Cloud Pavilion

"Be sure to take your men with you," Joju said.

This was a situation that Sano had faced too many times before: A criminal held an innocent person hostage in a ploy to gain his freedom. Counterstrategies that Sano had used in the past raced through his mind, but he couldn't gamble that old ideas would work again.

"Very well," Sano said, thinking fast. He couldn't let the woman die even if she wasn't the shogun's wife. Inspiration arose from his experience with Joju. He backed toward the door, then paused, his chin lifted and his eyes alert, as if at a sudden sound. "Did you hear that?"

Jirocho didn't speak the words that would spare Nanbu and save Fumiko. Reiko saw her face briefly sag with disappointment, then transform into a murderous scowl. Fumiko wrenched her body forward. Her sudden movement swayed Nanbu off balance. She thrust her fist backward, between his widespread legs. At the same moment Jirocho raised his hand; he started to speak. Nanbu uttered a bellow of agony. He dropped his sword, let go of Fumiko, and staggered. He sank to his knees, clutching his groin.

"What-?" Jirocho said, his hand still raised, the words he'd meant to speak forgotten. Everyone else stared at Fumiko.

She stood over Nanbu, her face a picture of grim triumph. She held a knife that she'd kept hidden under her sleeve. Reiko gazed at her in awe. Her pose brought to mind a samurai who'd slain his worst enemy in battle. Perhaps Jirocho would have given in to Nanbu, but he hadn't acted soon enough, so Fumiko had taken matters into her own hands.

Blood pumped from the wound she'd inflicted on Nanbu. He roared, a sound as fierce and inhuman as the din of barking and howling that the dogs now commenced. He pressed his hands to the wound, but the blood spilled over them. As his men rushed to help him, he toppled and fell.

Reiko had seen death too many times before. She saw it coming now, in the blankness that obliterated the terror and pain on Nanbu's face, in the inertia that gradually stilled his body. His men saw it, too. Before his last tremors ceased, the cry burst from them: "Avenge our master's death!"

They rushed at Fumiko. This time Jirocho didn't hesitate. "Save my daughter!" he shouted.

His gang fought Nanbu's men and dogs. Fumiko watched her father pick up a club and deliver merciless blows to the enemy troops around her. Her eyes brimmed with adoration. Reiko saw only seven or eight of Nanbu's men left, and only four dogs; the gangsters had killed the rest. Someone bumped into her. It was Ogita, desperately trying to thread his way through the battle, out of the cemetery. He was alone; his guards had died. He collided with grave posts as he neared the gate.

Chiyo stepped in front of it.

"Get out of my way!" he shouted.

She didn't move even though her expression was filled with terror. Reiko couldn't let her friend face Ogita alone. Leaving the gang to defend Fumiko, she ran to Chiyo.

"Who are you?" Ogita was saying.

Chiyo didn't seem to notice Reiko standing by her side. She frowned in dismay and puzzlement as she beheld Ogita. "Don't you know?"

"If we've met before, I don't remember, I'm sorry," Ogita said impatiently. "Now please move."

"You had me kidnapped. You-you had relations with me while I was drugged." Chiyo's voice shook. "And you don't even remember me?"

Ogita narrowed his eyes, took another look at Chiyo. Recognition dawned. "Oh. Yes." A lascivious smile crept across his face. "It's a pleasure to see you again. But I'm in a bit of a hurry, so if you don't mind-"

"I do mind." Chiyo was so pale that Reiko feared she would faint, but she bravely stood her ground. "You will not leave until you explain to me why you did it."

"Enough of this nonsense." Ogita lifted his hand, perhaps to push Chiyo out of his way, perhaps to strike her down.

Chiyo snatched the dagger from Reiko. She brandished it at Ogita and cried, "Don't you touch me!"

Reiko was as amazed as Ogita looked. Never had she thought Chiyo would have the courage to confront her rapist, let alone threaten him. But she came from the same clan as Sano. The same samurai blood ran in her veins.

Ogita recoiled, his gaze darting between Chiyo's tense, white face to the weapon in her hand, caught between her and the battle that still raged on. "All right, if you must know: I did it because I wanted to. And because I could." He smiled at her shocked expression. "Are you satisfied?"

Such fury blazed in her normally mild eyes that Reiko almost didn't recognize her. Her lips moved, but she could find no words to convey her offense at Ogita's callousness.

"No?" Ogita laughed mockingly. "Well, maybe once wasn't enough for you. Would you like to do it again sometime?"

Reiko gasped in indignation. Chiyo flinched as if Ogita had slapped her and said, "Because of what you did to me, I've lost everything." The dagger trembled in her hands. "My children, my husband, and my honor." Tears glistened in her angry eyes. "And you think it's a joke."

"I don't if you don't," Ogita said patronizingly. "I'm sorry if you're upset, but it's water under the bridge, so let's just forget about it, all right?" He extended his hand to her, waggled his fingers, and said, "Give me that dagger."

Chiyo hesitated. Reiko saw her habit of obeying men weaken her desire to stand up to Ogita. Then she gulped a deep, quick breath, as if she'd jumped off a cliff over the ocean and had to fill her lungs before she hit the water. She swiped at Ogita with all her might. The motion sent him skipping backward and her spinning in a clumsy circle. Ogita chuckled half in shock, half in amusement.

"So you want to play rough?" he said. "Normally, I like a woman with a little fight in her, but I've got to go."

He veered around Chiyo toward the gate. She stumbled in front of him, awkwardly swinging the dagger, totally untrained in combat. Reiko watched in amazement as Chiyo's determination made up for lack of experience. Chiyo chased Ogita straight into the battle. He ran sideways, trying to keep an eye on her and the fighters. Reiko ran after them and grabbed a sword from a dead samurai. How she regretted talking so much about justice! Chiyo had taken Reiko's words to heart. She displayed the recklessness of a warrior on a suicide mission. She seemed oblivious to the swords and spears slicing the air around her. Her desire for revenge on Ogita might get her killed.

Perhaps she wanted death as much as revenge.

Would that Reiko could save her from herself!

Ogita tripped over a bloody corpse. It was Nanbu's. Ogita fell. He sprawled on his stomach over Nanbu. He tried to get up, but the blood was slippery, and he fell again.

Chiyo advanced on him, the dagger raised high. The change that came over her was so startling that Reiko froze in her tracks. Her face was as serene and as hard as a stone Buddha's. Ogita looked up at her over his shoulder as he struggled to rise. All the terror he'd caused her in the pavilion of clouds now glazed his eyes. He opened his mouth to protest, or beg.

Chiyo slashed the dagger down. The blade cleaved deep into Ogita's back. Uttering a pitiful croak, he stiffened. He went limp as he died, lying across Nanbu, his conspirator in sinful crimes.

The unnatural serenity deserted Chiyo. Her face crumpled; she sank to her knees beside Ogita and Nanbu; she began to sob. Reiko moved to console her, but Fumiko came running, cut in front of Reiko, and threw her arms around Chiyo.

"Don't cry," Fumiko said. "They were bad men. They deserved to die."

Now Reiko saw that the battle was over. Nanbu's men and dogs all lay lifeless amid the graves. Only Jirocho and some ten gangsters, and Lieutenant Tanuma and Reiko's other guards remained standing. They were disheveled, bruised, and bloody. In the smoke from the crematoriums and the dropped lanterns whose flames smoldered in the weeds, they looked like survivors of some dreadful catastrophe.