Laura Rowland - The Assassin's Touch

“That should teach you to try to fool me,” Yugao said with malicious satisfaction. “Now keep your mouth shut while I decide what to do.”

Sano shouted at his men, ordering them to band together and close off Kobori’s escape route. But anarchy reigned, as if the Ghost had cast a spell that drove the troops mad. Sano felt his army’s hysteria growing with each cry that signaled another death at Kobori’s hands. He fought his own desire to run wild. Corpses lay strewn among trees and bushes. Now three soldiers fled the gardens and disappeared into the forest. A mass stampede followed them.

“The cowards are deserting,” Marume said, alarmed as well as disgusted. “Hey!” he shouted. “Come back here!” He charged after the deserters.

“No! Don’t!” Sano said, but too late to stop Marume.

A slender figure clad in black emerged from behind a clump of bushes on the terrace above. It stood alert but relaxed, like a tiger after a successful hunt, watching the army flee. Then he turned and looked straight down at Sano and Fukida. His eyes gleamed; his teeth flashed in a curved white line as he smiled. Sano’s heart lurched.

The man was Kobori.

“There he is!” Fukida exclaimed.

Sword drawn, he lunged up the slope, compelled by the madness that had seized the army. Sano vaulted after him, calling, “We have to stick together!” They must not make the same error their troops had. As a team they had a chance against Kobori. Alone, they risked their comrades’ fate.

The few remaining troops rallied to the chase, converging on Kobori from all directions. Kobori waited until Fukida had breasted the terrace and his pursuers were within some ten paces of him. Then he faded into the bushes. As Sano reached these, his men rushed about in confusion, calling, “Where did he go?” Someone crashed into him. A sword whistled through the air too close to his face.

“Watch out!” he cried.

“He ran into the woods!” said Fukida’s excited voice.

Bushes crackled and foliage snapped as the horde bounded off after the Ghost. Sano cursed in frustration. They would never find Kobori in there. He was as good as gone. While the noise of his men thrashing through the woods receded into the distance, Sano sheathed his sword and bent over, resting his hands on his knees, overcome by weariness and despair.

“Chamberlain Sano,” a voice whispered. It was soft, yet had a latent power that made it audible above the other noises.

Like a cat hissing, as Tama had described it to Reiko.

Sano felt his skin ripple. The Ghost was here. He must have eluded the troops, then come back.

A visceral, primitive terror froze Sano. Only his eyes moved, trying to locate Kobori in the shadows around him. His heart drummed an accelerating rhythm of dread. But although he could sense Kobori’s presence like malignant decay breeding in the gardens, he couldn’t see the Ghost.

“Your men are busy chasing one another in the woods,” Kobori said. “The ones I haven’t killed or scared away, that is.” His tone was amused yet vicious, conversational yet threatening. “It’s just you and me.”

Reiko sat in her corner, her injured hand wrapped in her sleeve and still oozing blood. Yugao still stood before her, holding the knife. They listened to the shouts and the running footsteps outside the mansion. Yugao’s gaze skittered, as if she wanted to see what was happening but dared not leave Reiko. Her hand trembled and the knife wavered with the strain that Reiko sensed building inside her. The lantern burned dimmer, a dying sun that emitted sickly ochre light and rancid smoke. The atmosphere was dense with the odors of blood and Yugao’s feverish perspiration. Reiko knew that sooner or later Yugao would snap. Either she must risk her life trying to talk Yugao into surrendering, or keep quiet and die anyway.

“Do you hear that commotion?” Reiko said. “Do you want to know what it is?”

“Be quiet,” Yugao ordered, “or I’ll cut you again.”

“My husband and his troops have invaded the grounds,” Reiko said. “Pretty soon they’ll be inside the house.”

“No, they won’t.” Goaded into conversation, Yugao spoke with utter confidence. “They’ll never get past him.”

Reiko understood that Yugao was referring to Kobori, the Ghost. “He’s only one man. There are hundreds of them. He can’t fight them all.”

“Is that what you think?” Yugao’s expression turned sly, disdainful. “Well, you don’t know him.”

There came a shriek so loud that it seemed to pierce the walls of the house and so filled with agony that Reiko gasped.

“Did you hear that?” Yugao said. “Do you want to know what it is?”

Her tone teased Reiko. “He’s killing your husband’s men. Just listen!” More shrieks arose. “You can count them as they die. He’s the best fighter there ever was!”

She brimmed with admiration for Kobori, and an excitement that was almost sexual. Reiko suddenly found herself afraid that the Ghost’s wondrous martial arts skills really could defeat an entire army. She realized that she’d been counting on Sano to save her, but maybe he was already dead. She thought of Hirata, waiting outside. If she called him, Yugao would kill her before he could reach her. She had to get out of this predicament on her own.

“No matter how good Kobori is, he can’t hold out against so many troops,” Reiko said. “They’ll kill him eventually. And you’ll be left to take the blame for what he’s done.”

Yugao laughed. “I can tell you’re not too sure of what you’re saying. Why should I believe it?”

“It’s true,” Reiko said, trying to sound confident. “You’d do better to cut loose from Kobori. It’s him that my husband is really after, not you. It’s not too late to save yourself, if we go now.” She rose carefully, sliding her back up the corner, watching Yugao.

“Sit down!” Yugao jabbed the knife at Reiko, who hastily dropped to her knees again. “I’ll never leave him! And I won’t listen to you any longer!”

Reiko ventured a different tactic: “Suppose that Kobori does win. He’ll be a fugitive forever. Lord Matsudaira will never stop chasing him. What kind of life do you think you’ll have with Kobori?”

“At least we’ll be together,” Yugao said. “I love him. Nothing else matters.”

“Here’s something that should,” Reiko said. “Kobori has murdered at least five Tokugawa officials. But maybe you didn’t know that.”

“Of course I did. I know all about him. I even saw him do it once. But maybe you didn’t know that,” Yugao mocked. “And I don’t care what everybody else thinks of what he’s done. I think he’s wonderful.” Her face was radiant with adoration for Kobori. “He’s the biggest hero who ever lived!”

Reiko thought how Yugao’s past had shaped her character. Her beloved father had forced her to commit incest with him. After he’d rejected her, she’d transferred her devotion to another tyrant, Kobori.

“His hands have the blood of innocent victims all over them,” Reiko said. “How can you bear for him to touch you?”

“That’s part of the thrill of making love with him.” Yugao licked her lips and ran her hand down her bosom. The memory of Kobori’s caresses engorged her with lascivious pleasure. “Besides, those men weren’t innocent. They were his enemies. They deserved to die.”

Vicarious revenge was another pleasure that she derived from her lover, Reiko saw. Because Yugao must have wanted to strike back at the parents and sister who’d hurt her, how she must have reveled in knowing of Kobori’s exploits. “He’s not a hero,” Reiko said. “You’re harboring a criminal.”

“I’ve done more than that for him,” Yugao said proudly.