Red Chrysanthemum (37 page)

As he escorted Reiko and Jiro from the brothel, Reiko dreaded telling the boy that his mother was dead. Maybe Jiro would take heart from the fact that Lily had had the courage to try to get him back from the man she’d rented him to in a desperate bid for their survival. Reiko only hoped that a kind home with her would make up for his suffering. But at least she’d rescued Jiro as she’d promised Lily she would.

The landscape in the eastern hills outside Edo resembled a classic painting by an ancient court artist. The distant city below was a glare of sunlight hazed by smoke from fires that had resumed full force now that there was no rain to discourage them. But high altitude cooled the forest. Refreshing breezes blew on Sano, General Isogai, and elders Ohgami and Uemori as they reposed inside a rustic pavilion built on a hilltop.

“Thank you for doing me the honor of visiting my summer estate, Honorable Chamberlain. It’s nice to get away from the heat, isn’t it?” Ohgami said, fanning himself.

“Yes.” But Sano wasn’t deceived by the pretense that this was a mere holiday jaunt. “May I ask what you want to say that can’t be said in town?”

Disapproving glances passed between the elders. Uemori puffed on his pipe, coughed, and said, “You haven’t changed in spite of your recent experiences. You still have a tendency toward directness.”

“That’s a point in his favor, as far as I’m concerned.” General Isogai grinned at Sano. “Congratulations on getting out of that mess. Thought you were done for this time.”

“I’m glad you’re in favor with Lord Matsudaira again,” Ohgami added.

“You should have had more faith in me.” Sano spoke lightly, but his tone was edged with rebuke toward the men and his other allies for deserting him in his hour of need. They’d lined up in hordes outside his mansion to pay their respects, bring lavish gifts to appease him, and eat their pride. He’d forgiven them instead of punishing them. “I hope that next time you’ll know which side to bet on. Because if you lose, the winner might not be so generous.”

“Generosity, nothing,” General Isogai snapped. “We have mutual interests.”

“Indeed we do,” Sano agreed mildly. He couldn’t dispute that they needed one another. “None of us can stand alone.”

“From bad comes good,” Uemori said. “Getting rid of Hoshina made all your trouble worthwhile.”

“With him gone, his faction has dissolved into handfuls of squabbling malcontents,” Ohgami said. “None of them are strong enough to stand between you and Lord Matsudaira.”

“That’s what really saved you,” Uemori reminded Sano. “Without Hoshina to set him against you, Lord Matsudaira is willing to accept that Lord Mori was a traitor and you aren’t.”

“Even though you never really proved it,” Ohgami said, referring to the fact that Sano hadn’t had any more solid evidence at the end of his investigation than at the beginning. “The medium’s confession doesn’t count. You could have forced her to admit that she faked that seance.”

Hence, it was still Sano’s word against his enemies‘. Sano knew there were many people, including these three, who weren’t sure he wasn’t guilty. But nobody dared make an issue of that.

“Do you think Lord Matsudaira actually believes Chamberlain Sano is innocent?” Uemori asked Ohgami and General Isogai.

General Isogai shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. That has to be his official position.”

Because Sano was stronger than ever, with little to check him now that Hoshina’s faction was dissolved, many of Hoshina’s old cronies had rushed to jump on Sano’s ship. Sano was the biggest man in Japan next to Lord Matsudaira. Everyone had better think carefully before they accused him of anything again. At first Sano had been angry that a taint of suspicion still hovered around him, but he couldn’t complain; it beat death by compulsory ritual suicide.

“Things are better for you than they were before Lord Mori’s murder,” Ohgami said.

“That’s old news,” Sano said blandly. “Forgive my impatience, but will you please get to the point?”

The elders looked toward General Isogai. General Isogai looked around to make sure there was nobody else within earshot, then said to Sano, “Don’t get too complacent. Lord Matsudaira is still dangerous to you.”

“Do you think I don’t know that?” Sano said, aware that he was a bigger target and his position more precarious than ever.

“Sure you do,” General Isogai said. “What I don’t think you realize is that it’s time for you to move against Lord Matsudaira.”

Sano shouldn’t have been surprised, but for a moment he couldn’t reply.

“He who strikes first and catches his opponent off guard has the advantage.” Uemori spoke with the wisdom of his decades as the regime’s chief military adviser.

“Now is your best chance,” Ohgami said.

Finding his voice, Sano said, “You want me to overthrow Lord Matsudaira?”

“That’s right,” General Isogai said. “We and your other allies are behind you all the way.”

“We understand that things have changed so suddenly and you’ve been so busy that you haven’t had the opportunity to make any plans,” Uemori said. “We’ll give you time to think about our proposal.”

“But don’t take too much time,” General Isogai said. “Hesitation will get you killed.”

The temple hadn’t changed since Hirata had left. Mist still veiled the Yoshino Mountains; eagles still soared above the pagoda; the bell still echoed across the pine forests. But as Hirata climbed up the steps cut into the cliff, his awareness of the place encompassed the tiniest birds, insects, and lichens in the woods, the planets, stars, and the infinite cosmos beyond. His spirit balanced within their totality. The energy coursing through him relieved the weariness of the fifteen-day ride from Edo. He entered the temple gate and paused, his heightened senses testing the air for Ozuno’s presence.

The pulsation of his teacher’s shield led Hirata to the main precinct where the worship hall dominated a courtyard. Ozuno limped toward him, leaning on his staff, across the paving stones. Hirata met him in the middle.

“I didn’t think you’d be back,” Ozuno said, irritable as ever. “What happened? The Tokugawa regime threw you out on your behind? You have nowhere else to go?”

“No,” Hirata said, “a miracle happened.”

“What nonsense are you talking?”

“I finally got what you were trying to teach me,” Hirata said. “I used it to defeat my enemies. I saved my master’s life.”

As he elaborated, a most gratifying expression of amazement dawned on his teacher’s face. Ozuno gaped, scratched his head, and squatted on the ground as if cut down to size by the news.

“The cosmic winds blow me to hell!” he said.

This moment was supremely worth all the toil and frustration Hirata had endured, all the abuse he’d taken from Ozuno. “The last time we met, you told me that if a miracle happened, you would resume my training.”

“Indeed? I suppose you expect me to keep my bargain,” Ozuno said, recovering his orneriness.

Hirata spread his arms. “When do we start?”

“No time like the present.” As Ozuno stood up, he looked closely at Hirata, waiting for him to make some excuse.

“Fine,” Hirata said.

Sano had given him an indefinite leave of absence, his reward for his heroics. The shogun and Lord Matsudaira had agreed to it. For once Hirata had all the time in the world to devote to his training. His only problem was leaving Midori and the children. But his previous dabbling in the mystic martial arts had started something that he had to finish, no matter the sacrifice. That day at the
eta
settlement had set him on a path of no return.

“All right,” Ozuno said, resigned. “We’ll begin with ten days of meditation and breathing exercises.”

“Not that again,” Hirata protested. “Haven’t I proved that I’m beyond it?”

Ozuno frowned in severe rebuke. “You’ve proved that you haven’t changed as much as you think. You’re still the same, pigheaded fool. You don’t understand that a warrior must never give up practicing the basics.”

“But I’m ready for something more advanced now,” Hirata said.

“Really?”

Ozuno lashed out at Hirata with his staff. Hirata never saw the blow coming. It landed smack across his stomach. As he cried out in surprise and doubled over in pain, Ozuno kicked his rear end. He found himself facedown on the pavement.

“If you’re so advanced, you should have sensed that I was going to hit you and counterattacked me,” Ozuno said.

Hirata rolled over and groaned. Ozuno said, “Winning that battle was just beginner’s luck. Get up, you fool. You’ve got a long way to go.”

“Surely you’re not going to do what General Isogai and the elders want,” Reiko said, alarmed. “You’re not going to challenge Lord Matsudaira?”

“It’s something I must consider,” Sano said.

He and Reiko sat in the pavilion of their garden in the coolness of the evening. They kept their voices low in case there were spies lurking in the shadows. Lanterns glowed in the windows of the house. Fragrant incense burned to repel mosquitoes. Across the garden, Masahiro carried a lantern, pulled up worms for a fishing expedition. Reiko stared at Sano in disbelief.

“You mean you might actually do what you were falsely accused of doing—betray Lord Matsudaira?” She was so shocked that her mouth gaped and closed several times.

Sano’s expression was dark, conflicted. “I know how it sounds.”

“You would try to seize power after you were almost put to death for treason?”

“It’s less a matter of ambition than survival.”

“Have General Isogai and the elders manipulated you into believing that?” Reiko said, incredulous.

He rose and stood at the railing that enclosed the pavilion, his back to her. “No. I was surprised that they were keen on the idea, but I’ve been thinking about challenging Lord Matsudaira since before they suggested it.”

“You have?” Reiko had thought that nothing else could surprise her anymore.

“It’s been on my mind every time I remembered how sick I am of having to defend myself against Lord Matsudaira,” Sano assented, “every time I wondered how to prevent more crises like the one we’ve just been through. Every time I imagine how much better my life would be if Lord Matsudaira were gone, overthrowing him seems like the logical solution.”

The anger in his voice troubled Reiko even though she understood it and she, too, was angry at Lord Matsudaira, because he’d almost condemned her to death for a crime she hadn’t committed. Yet she couldn’t bring herself to agree with Sano.

“It would be dangerous,” she said. “You could lose.”

“I could lose by doing nothing,” Sano said. “Lord Matsudaira likes me well enough now, but he could turn on me again at any time. He’s not exactly comfortable with how powerful I’ve become. And I still have enemies. They wouldn’t mind joining with Lord Matsudaira to crush me while they can.”

Reiko couldn’t argue with that, but she had other, stronger objections. “To be so disloyal to your superior would violate the samurai code of honor.”

Sano turned slightly, and the light from the house gilded the wry smile on his face. “Bushido is a double standard. On one hand, it keeps the lower-ranking samurai in their places. On the other hand, every warlord who’s risen to power has done it at the expense of a superior, and there’s no disgrace attached to that.”

His cynicism troubled Reiko. In the space of a few days, he’d changed from her husband who marched along a distinct line that divided right and wrong to a stranger who perceived infinite shadings between them. Yet she found herself nodding. The murder case had changed her, too. She was as sick of being suspected, accused, and threatened by Lord Matsudaira as Sano was. Maybe it was time to stand up for themselves, to secure the future of their children. And Sano deserved an opportunity to govern the nation more fairly than his colleagues had. But the idea of his staging a coup terrified her even though his allies and army were strong and his chances of winning worth a gamble. The idea of war and bloodshed daunted any mother, even a samurai woman.

She rose, stood beside Sano, and laid her hand on his. “Promise me you won’t act rashly.”

He covered her hand with his other. “I promise that whatever I do will be carefully thought out in advance.”

Together they looked at Masahiro’s lantern zigzagging across the dark garden. “I just pulled up a big worm!” Masahiro called, excited. “I’ll catch lots of fish tomorrow.”

Reiko smiled, distracted from her thoughts for a moment. “This investigation didn’t turn out the way we wanted. It seems only the beginning of something even more serious.”

Sano nodded, then mused, “That’s not the only reason I’m dissatisfied with the outcome. I have a feeling there’s something not right, something unresolved.”

“Do you? So do I,” Reiko said, glad because he shared her suspicions.

“I never did learn who planted my notes in that warehouse,” Sano said. “I’ve got people still investigating, but no clues have turned up.”

“Have you found out who was in on Lord Mori’s plot to overthrow Lord Matsudaira?”

“No, and not for lack of trying. That’s the other thing that bothers me. It’s as if the conspiracy that almost got me killed never existed.

“I can’t believe that it was irrelevant to Lord Mori’s murder,” Reiko said, “or that it could just fade away like smoke after the fire is gone.”

“Nor can I,” Sano said. “There’s something we’re missing about this case.”

“What can it be?” Reiko asked.

“I wish I knew.” Sano gazed up at the starlit sky. “Astrologers say that the movements of a celestial body that’s far, far away in space can determine our destiny. We can’t see it. But it’s there.”

epilogue

The stars wheeled above the temple outside Totsuka village, a day’s journey from Edo. There the exiled former chamberlain Yanagisawa admitted two travelers into his small, austere cottage hidden by pine trees. His shaved head and saffron robe glowed in the lantern light. The men bowed to him and removed the hats that shadowed their faces.

“Greetings, Father,” Yoritomo said.

“Welcome, my son.” Yanagisawa turned to his other guest. “Welcome, Enju-san. Or, I should say, Lord Mori.”

“Yes,” Enju said, “I’m
daimyo
now that my stepfather is dead.”