Laura Rowland - The Snow Empress

The sunlight bleached Lord Matsumae’s whiskered face. “How long have I been asleep?”

“Five days.”

“… Merciful gods. What’s happened?”

“You don’t remember?”

Alarmed recollection deluged Lord Matsumae’s gaze. “I killed my uncle Gizaemon. Because he killed Tekare.” He gasped. “Tekare. Where is she?”

“She’s gone,” Sano said, “to the spirit world.”

“Gone.” With an expression that combined bereavement and relief, Lord Matsumae sat up and examined himself, flexing his arms and hands that he alone now controlled. He touched his face that belonged only to him.

“Yes,” Sano said. “She’s at peace.”

Lord Matsumae echoed, “At peace. As I wish I could be.” A breath of despair gusted from him. “I’ll love her and miss her all my life. But I’m glad she’s gone. Uncle Gizaemon was right about her. When she was with me, I did terrible things that I didn’t want to do but couldn’t help myself.” Shame colored his woe. “I disobeyed the shogun’s laws, forsook my duty, and let my domain go to hell. I massacred innocent natives and declared war on them. I’ve treated you abominably, and I put your son to death.” He regarded Sano with puzzlement. “After what I’ve done to you, how can you sit talking calmly with me? Why don’t you kill me?”

“Fortunately your men thought better of following your orders to kill my son. There he is.” Sano pointed out the window at Masahiro. “As you can see, he’s alive and well.”

“No thanks to me,” Lord Matsumae said, still guilt-ridden. “I must atone for what I’ve done. I’m turning my domain over to the shogun. Please allow me a few days to settle my affairs and say good-bye to the men who’ve served me faithfully even when I was mad. Then I will commit seppuku.”

Sano saw that his remorse was genuine; Lord Matsumae was his decent, rational self again. But those weren’t the only reasons that Sano said, “Ritual suicide won’t be necessary. I’m going to advise the shogun to pardon you and let you stay on as lord of Ezogashima.” He didn’t know how much influence he still had over the shogun, but it was worth a try.

“But I must take responsibility for my actions.” Lord Matsumae sounded adamant instead of ready for an easy way out.

“You weren’t responsible. Tekare was.”

When Sano had first come to Ezogashima and discovered what Lord Matsumae had done, when he’d watched Lord Matsumae in action, he’d never imagined wanting to pardon the man. A big part of Sano hadn’t believed in spirit possession even though he’d personally seen evidence of it. But after he’d watched Tekare cross over to the spirit world, after he’d learned that his own vision of Masahiro had been real, his mind had accepted that Ezogashima was a place where the impossible happened. Now he was convinced that Lord Matsumae had truly been possessed, his actions beyond his control, and was innocent by reason of temporary madness. And Sano had another reason for keeping Lord Matsumae in control of Ezogashima.

“But I’m at fault for letting Tekare gain control of me while she was alive,” Lord Matsumae protested. “People have suffered because of my mistake. I shouldn’t be allowed to escape with no consequences.”

“You won’t,” Sano assured him. “You’ll pay restitution to the families of the people you killed. You’ll give better trade terms to the natives. You can also give them more freedom and protect them from Japanese who prey on them.” Should someone else take over the domain, heaven help the natives. A new lord would exploit them worse than ever.

“Very well,” Lord Matsumae said, uncertain yet grateful. “I’m forever in your debt. If there’s anything I can give you, just name it. A banquet? A hunting trip? A ship to take you home? All the furs, gold, and medicinal herbs in my storehouses? Can I persuade you to stay for a tour of Ezogashima in the spring?”

A lord beholden to him was enough reward for a man in Sano’s shaky political position, and Sano had been away from Edo too long. “I won’t say no to the ship.”

Three days later, a blue sky graced Fukuyama City. Sunlight sparkled on an ocean flecked with tiny whitecaps. In the harbor, Matsumae sailors inspected the ship while troops carried supplies aboard. Peasants in rowboats, armed with axes, chopped away the ice that had frozen the waters close to shore. The castle astrologer had predicted that the favorable weather would hold long enough for Sano and his party to reach home.

Detectives Marume and Fukida walked up the gangplank. “When we get back to Edo, I’m going to jump in a hot bath and stay there until spring,” Fukida said.

“I’ll join you,” Marume said. “We’ll add a few girls, a little music, and a lot of sake to liven things up.”

The Rat followed them, loaded down with a bundle of native goods he’d purchased in town. “I’m never coming back here again. The next time Chamberlain Sano needs a translator, let me know, so I can make myself scarce.”

On the dock a crowd had gathered to see the ship sail. Commoners from town mingled with Fukuyama Castle troops and servants. Apart from them Hirata stood with Chieftain Awetok, who’d accompanied him back to the city.

“Thanks to you and your master for solving the murder and making peace,” Awetok said.

Hirata remembered the many natives killed, the families in mourning, and the Ainu who’d lost both the women he’d loved. “I’m sorry for everything. I hope Urahenka will be all right.”

The chieftain frowned as they thought of the young man they’d left at the village. “He’s like a blade trying to cut a stone wall. Either he learns to control his anger toward your people, or it will destroy him. Time will tell what becomes of him, and all of us.”

The Ainu had escaped extinction, but Hirata feared that the day would come when they wouldn’t. He felt sad for them, for the richness of their culture that was threatened by his own kind. “I want to thank you for your lessons. They’ve opened a whole new world to me. If only I didn’t have to leave.” But he felt pulled toward Edo and knew his ultimate destiny waited for him there. “I wish I could stay and learn more.”

Amusement crinkled the chieftain’s stern face. “You can leave Ainu Mosir, but Ainu Mosir won’t leave you. She’s part of you now. She will teach you.”

Nearby, Lady Matsumae and her attendants bowed to Reiko. Lady Matsumae said, “We wish you a safe trip.”

Reiko could tell that Lady Matsumae wouldn’t cry if the ship sank and she drowned. “Thank you. It was kind of you to come and bid me farewell.”

They exchanged looks as frigid as the northern sea. Reiko thought Lady Matsumae had probably come to make sure she really left. Nothing that had happened had changed Lady Matsumae. Still bitter about her daughter’s death, she still blamed Tekare. Her bitterness was a poison that couldn’t hurt Tekare but would ruin her own life. Reiko supposed she had a lesson to learn from Lady Matsumae even as she disapproved of the woman’s attitude. She looked toward the ship that would bear her away from Ezogashima.

Masahiro scampered around the deck, chattering to Sano, who leaned on the railing and smiled at him. Stuck in Reiko’s heart like a barbed fishhook was her anger at Lord Matsudaira for kidnapping her son and sending him to a narrowly avoided death. As she boarded the ship, Reiko felt the same need for revenge that Lady Matsumae did, that Tekare had felt toward the Japanese. Where it would take her remained to be seen.

Masahiro said, “I can’t wait to get home and tell my friends everything that happened. Do you think they’ll be impressed to hear that I was in a real battle?”

“Yes, indeed.” Sano wondered what lay in store for himself in Edo. How much political ground had Lord Matsudaira gained at his expense while he’d been gone? Sano knew for sure that they were overdue for a showdown, and he was looking forward to it.