As he and his men beheld the castle, they saw no sign of the women, but a thin smoke plume drifted up from the rooftops. “The place is inhabited,” Marume said.
Out the castle gate strode four samurai, armed with swords, bows, and quivers. Hirata, Marume, and Fukida quickly hid in the forest. They watched from behind trees as the samurai divided in pairs that marched in opposite directions along the island’s shore.
“They’re patrolling,” Fukida said.
“Maybe they don’t know that the wars are over,” Marume said, “but I bet they’re guarding the castle because they’ve got the shogun’s mother in there and they don’t want anybody trespassing.”
Hirata, Fukida, and Marume looked at one another. They whooped with jubilation, threw playful punches, and danced in a circle-quietly, so the kidnappers wouldn’t hear them. Hirata rejoiced that Midori was so near.
“We have to tell the sōsakan-sama that we’ve found the kidnappers’ hideout,” said Marume. “Shall we head for home?”
The idea collided against a barrier of resistance within Hirata. He turned away from the detectives and gazed through the trees, toward the island. He sensed Midori’s spirit calling to him from that mysterious castle. The irresistible summons, and his overwhelming desire to stay near his wife, rooted him where he stood.
“We’re not leaving,” he said, facing Marume and Fukida.
They regarded him with surprise. Marume said, “But the sōsakan-sama ordered us to report our discoveries to him.”
Concern sharpened Fukida’s expression as he looked toward the castle, then back at Hirata. “You’re not thinking of going over there… are you?”
Hirata clenched and unclenched his jaw. Beset by opposing motives, he balanced his weight on one foot, then the other.
“We aren’t supposed to approach the kidnappers,” Fukida minded him.
“I know.” Hirata also knew that their duty to their master superseded all other considerations.
“You wouldn’t go against his orders?” Marume said, clearly shocked that Hirata could even think of such heresy.
A terrible, sick shame coursed through Hirata. Disobedience was the worst sin against Bushido. And defying Sano would not only compromise Hirata’s honor but also betray the trust of the man who was his closest friend as well as his master.
“We can’t just leave,” he said. “By the time we reach Edo, the kidnappers might have moved the women elsewhere. We might never find them again.”
Marume and Fukida nodded, acknowledging his rationale, but they exchanged troubled glances.
“If the sōsakan-sama knew the situation, he would change his orders,” Hirata said, convincing himself that this was so. “He’d want us to move in on the castle and attempt a rescue.”
“We can’t know what he would want. Besides, the kidnappers said in their letter to the shogun that if anyone pursues them, they’ll kill the women.” Marume’s hesitant manner conveyed reluctance to disagree with Hirata, who outranked him.
“They won’t see us coming,” Hirata said. “We’re only the three of us, not an army that would attract their notice.”
“Three of us might not be enough,” Fukida said. He picked at his fingernails-his habit when nervous-but he spoke with the conviction of a samurai who recognized his duty to voice unpleasant truths to a superior. “We don’t know how many kidnappers there are. They survived a battle against the Tokugawa troops in Lady Keisho-in’s entourage, which means they’re good fighters. Suppose we get caught on the island. If we’re killed, we can’t rescue the women, or even tell the sōsakan-sama where they are.”
“He’s right,” Marume said.
The two detectives stood ranged together against Hirata. “We won’t get caught,” he said. Angry at himself for defying Bushido, he grew angry at them for defying him. “Do you think I’m not capable of leading a successful raid?” The fact that he had his own doubts about their chances of success made him even more furious. “Are you questioning my judgment?”
“No, it’s not that,” Fukida hastened to say, although his expression belied his words.
“Don’t you want to save the women?” Hirata demanded.
“Of course we do,” Marume said. “We don’t want to slink back to Edo any more than you do.” His face, and Fukida’s, reflected the same hunger for action that burned in Hirata. “But we can’t disobey the sōsakan-sama.”
“Our honor is at stake,” Fukida said.
The worst thing Hirata could do to his comrades was force them to break their samurai loyalty to Sano. He hated to cause Marume and Fukida such disgrace. But he feared that unless they helped him raid the island, all was lost. Even if Lord Niu had ordered the kidnapping, and his only intention was to separate Midori from Hirata, that didn’t mean she was safe. That the violent, unpredictable daimyo had never killed a family member didn’t guarantee that he wouldn’t, and the kidnappers had already proved themselves murderers during the ambush. Hirata couldn’t allow a delay that could cost the lives of Midori and their child. And he didn’t believe Sano would want him to abandon Reiko or the other women to the kidnappers.
“The sōsakan-sama put me in charge of this mission,” Hirata said. “Aslong as we’re away from him, you must obey me. I order you to help me invade the island and rescue the women. I’ll take responsibility for whatever happens.”
Again Fukida and Marume looked at each other. Wordless communication passed between them. When they finally nodded to Hirata, he saw that they were relieved to have matters settled for them, and eager to begin the rescue expedition, if still not entirely convinced about the wisdom of it. He exhaled, feeling his own relief and gratitude.
“How are we going to get across the lake?” Marume said.
“We could swim,” Fukida said, his gaze measuring the distance over the water. “But we’ll need a way to transport the women to safety.”
“What about those boats?” Marume pointed at the far dock.
“I don’t think we should depend on them,” Hirata said. “If the worst happens and the kidnappers discover that we’re on the island before we can get the women off, they’ll guard the boats. We would all have to swim, and Midori can’t, especially in her condition.”
“I wouldn’t gamble that the other women can swim, either,” Fukida said. “We could tow them, but that would slow down our escape and give the kidnappers a chance to spot us.”
A vision of the three of them struggling to pull four women through the water, while the kidnappers fired arrows at them and chased them in the boats, momentarily quieted Hirata, Marume, and Fukida. No one speculated aloud about what hazards they might have to brave while locating the women, removing them from wherever they were imprisoned, and getting them as far as the shore.
“We need our own boat that we can hide on the island and use to carry away the women,” Hirata said, concentrating on the problem at hand. He would worry about other obstacles later. He would also postpone worrying about what Sano would think when he found out Hirata had disobeyed his orders.
“Should we ride back to the nearest village and see if the people have a boat to lend or sell us?” Marume said.
“I’m not letting the island out of my sight for that long,” Hirata said.
He looked around for an alternative, and his gaze lit on a fallen tree and slender saplings in the forest. “We’ll cut some logs and join them together to make rafts. Then we’ll wait until nightfall, row across the lake, and invade the island.”
19
In the Edo Castle sickroom, the maid Suiren lay in bed, inert and fragile beneath the blanket. Her closed eyes were sunken in dark hollows, her facial bones sharp under her pale skin. Sano knelt at one side of the bed, and Dr. Kitano at the other. They watched feeble breaths sigh through her parched, colorless lips. Incense smoke wafted over her, while the sorceress beat a tambourine and the priest recited healing spells. Vapor from simmering herbal infusions hazed the room.