Laura Rowland - The Assassin's Touch

“Many thanks,” Sano said.

“I must apologize for the disgraceful behavior of my troops.” Mortification subdued General Isogai’s jovial manner. “As soon as I round up the deserters, they’ll be forced to commit seppuku.”

“Perhaps that’s too severe a punishment, especially under the unusual circumstances,” Sano said. “They were good, brave soldiers. The Ghost drove them out of their minds.” He’d forgiven Marume and Fukida for leaving him. He’d also forbidden them to commit ritual suicide even though they’d pleaded to atone for their disgrace. “I don’t want more lives lost on his account. And we need those men.”

General Isogai looked unconvinced, stubborn. “I have to uphold discipline. Seppuku is the standard punishment for desertion. Making exceptions will weaken the moral character of the army. Can’t have that. But if you order me to spare the deserters…?”

Sano entertained the idea for a mere moment before he reluctantly said, “No.” Although he had the power to command whatever he wished, he was as bound by the samurai code of honor as General Isogai. Bending the code would not only violate his principles but leave him open to attack. “Do as we must.” Yet the impending deaths of the deserters sat as badly in his mind as the deaths of the troops slain by Kobori.

As General Isogai moved away, Yoritomo hurried up to Sano. “Please allow me to express how thrilled I am that you defeated the Ghost.” Yoritomo’s eyes shone with admiration.

The shogun joined them. “Ahh, Sano-san. You’ve saved us all from the Ghost. I feel much better now.” He sighed and fanned himself. Then his eyes widened in horror as he took a closer look at Sano. “My, but you look awful. Those bruises all over your face! The sight of them makes me ill. I order you to, ahh, wear makeup to cover them.”

Sano had thought that nothing the shogun said could surprise him anymore. “Yes, Your Excellency.”

“Come along, Yoritomo.” The shogun bustled away as if he thought Sano’s injuries were contagious. Yoritomo gave Sano a look of apology.

Lord Matsudaira strode up to Sano. “Honorable Chamberlain. It’s good to see you on your feet.”

“It’s good to see you.” Still on yours, Sano added silently. During the four days Sano had been absent from court, Lord Matsudaira appeared to have consolidated his position.

Lord Matsudaira raised his eyebrows and nodded in satisfaction as he read Sano’s thoughts. He looked calmer, more secure, now that his new regime was no longer threatened by an assassin. “Certain problems are much less trouble than they were a few days ago.” He glanced at Elders Kato and Ihara, who stood with a few of their cronies. They eyed him with resentment. “If certain people wish to attack me, they’ll have to do it themselves instead of relying on Kobori. Besides, I’ve won a few new allies, while they’ve lost a lot of ground, because you eliminated him. Good work, Sano-san.”

Sano bowed, acknowledging the praise yet finding it distasteful. Seventy-four men were dead, and he’d almost sacrificed his own life, but all Lord Matsudaira cared about was that the destruction of the Ghost had shored up his regime.

“But don’t get too complacent,” Lord Matsudaira warned him. “There are still many opportunities for you to take a wrong step. And there are just as many men who are eager to take your place if you do.”

Before he slipped away, his gaze directed Sano’s attention across the shrine precinct. Police Commissioner Hoshina loitered on the fringe of a crowd around the shogun. Ire enflamed his features as he started toward Sano. Before Hoshina reached him, Sano was surrounded by officials who greeted him, inquired about his health, and welcomed him back to court. Some of them were men Hoshina had enlisted in his bid for power. Sano could tell how eager they were to make up for shunning him when his position was in jeopardy, how worried that he would hold their disloyalty against them. Obviously, Hoshina’s campaign against him had fizzled.

Hoshina elbowed his way through the crowd. He paused beside Sano long enough to murmur, “You win this time. But you haven’t seen the end of me.” Then he stalked away.

Sano felt the world settle into its familiar, precarious balance. Earth tremors vibrated his feet. He pictured cracks branching underground, toward his home, where he’d noticed that Reiko seemed troubled and distant. She hadn’t confided in him, and he’d sensed she hadn’t wanted to burden him with problems during his convalescence, but he knew she was upset about the way her investigation had turned out. Sano felt a sudden, pressing need to talk to her, before his whirlwind of business reclaimed him.

“Excuse me,” he said to the officials.

He signaled Detectives Marume and Fukida, who cleared his path toward the gate.

Storm clouds massed above the pines that shaded a cemetery in the Zōjō Temple district. Rows of stone pillars marked graves adorned with portraits of the deceased and offerings of flowers and food. The cemetery was deserted except for a small party gathered around a bare plot of land.

Reiko, Lieutenant Asukai, and her other guards watched a laborer dig a new grave. His shovel upturned soil dark and damp from the rainy season that had come early this year. The fresh scents of earth and pine did nothing to soothe the grief that consumed Reiko.

Thunder rumbled in the distance. The gravedigger finished his work. Reiko stooped and hefted a lidded black ceramic urn sitting beside the grave, which contained Tama’s ashes. She gently lowered the urn into the hole. She knelt, bowed her head, and murmured a prayer for the girl’s spirit. “May you be reborn into a better life than the one you left.”

Her escorts waited silent and somber. Reiko whispered into the grave, “I’m sorry. Please forgive me.”

She rose, and the gravedigger filled the hole, tamped down the dirt, and left. Lieutenant Asukai positioned the stone grave-marker that bore Tama’s name. Reiko laid before it the rice cake, the sake decanter, and the bouquet of flowers she’d brought. Rain pelted the cemetery. Lieutenant Asukai opened an umbrella over Reiko’s head and gave it to her. Reiko lingered, reluctant to depart. She’d never expected to mourn so keenly for someone she’d known such a short time. How strange that the death of a virtual stranger could alter one’s life.

She heard hoof beats outside the cemetery. Looking up, she saw Sano enter the gate, followed by Detectives Marume and Fukida. Sano came to stand beside her at the grave while the detectives joined her escorts under the pines. The rain gushed down, drenching the grave and offerings. Reiko took meager comfort from Sano, pressed close against her, in the scant dry haven under her umbrella.

“The servants told me I’d find you here.” Sano regarded her with concern. “What’s going on?”

“I just buried Tama’s ashes. There wasn’t anyone else to do it.” Reiko explained, “I went to the house where she worked to ask if she had any relatives. Her employers said she didn’t. And they weren’t interested in what happened to her body. So I held a funeral for her the day after she died. No one came except my father.” Reiko felt sad for Tama, who’d been so alone in the world, and Magistrate Ueda, who had his own regrets about how Yugao’s murder case had turned out. “And there was no one to give Tama a proper grave except me.”

Sano nodded in approval. “That was good of you.”

“It’s nowhere near enough to do for her.” Guilt plagued Reiko. “You tried to warn me that power is dangerous. You said that things we do with it might seem good at the time, but they can have bad consequences. Well, you were right. I abused my power and I did terrible harm to an innocent girl.”