“I think there’s another reason for their generosity,” Midori said with a smile at Reiko. “You must have made a good impression on their leader.”
Lady Yanagisawa just eyed Reiko in speculative silence. Reiko turned away from her friends, bent over the basin, and splashed water on her face, wishing she could cleanse away the fearsome impression the kidnappers’ leader had made on her. The other women didn’t know what had happened between her and their captor because she hadn’t said; she didn’t want to upset Midori or spur Keisho-in into another fit of rage. All she’d told them was that the man who called himself the Dragon King had given her food and not hurt her. She’d assured them that they were in no immediate danger, although the truth was that meeting the Dragon King had changed her own situation from bad to worse.
She looked at the cleaned room, and the furnishings and food the guards had brought. The Dragon King was wooing her with physical comforts. Reiko imagined what payment he expected. She shuddered, pressing a cloth over her face. But although she hated that she’d attracted an evil, unwanted admirer, she began to perceive that the Dragon King’s attraction to her was a vulnerability that she could perhaps exploit to her advantage. She lowered the cloth from her face as ideas raced and schemes bred in her mind.
A gentle touch on her arm startled Reiko. She turned and saw Lady Yanagisawa kneeling beside her.
“There’s more to the story of what passed between you and the Dragon King… is there not?” Lady Yanagisawa whispered.
Reiko didn’t want to confide in the woman and encourage intimacy between them. But she owed Lady Yanagisawa for aiding the escape attempt and risking her own life. And Reiko needed to discuss her fears and schemes with someone.
She glanced at the other women, nodded covertly to Lady Yanagisawa, and whispered back, “I’ll tell you later, when they’re asleep.”
20
Within hours after Sano had reported to him on the suspects Hoshina had implicated that morning, Chamberlain Yanagisawa rode down the main boulevard of the daimyo district with his entourage of bodyguards. The crowds of mounted and strolling samurai parted to make way for him. He and his entourage halted outside an estate whose double-roofed gate displayed the circular crest of the Kii clan. No sooner had they alit from their horses, than the sentries opened the portals for them.
“Good afternoon, Honorable Chamberlain,” the sentries chorused, bowing.
Yanagisawa’s high rank gave him the right to walk into almost any house, and he was especially confident of a warm welcome here. He strode into a courtyard, where soldiers loitered and a guard captain greeted him.
“Lord Kii is in the martial arts training ground,” said the guard captain. “May I please escort you?”
“Never mind,” Yanagisawa said. “I know the way.”
As he and his men marched past the mansion’s buildings, he put to use a lifetime of practice at hiding his emotions. His face was serene and his manner dignified, while his spirit writhed in agony, desperation, and terror. He didn’t expect trouble from his impending talk with Lord Kii, daimyo of Sendai Province and head of the clan that Sano had named as a suspect in the kidnapping. All his woe centered around Hoshina.
Try as he might, he couldn’t expunge the awful memory of Hoshina begging for his life. He couldn’t deny his guilt or shame at refusing to protect Hoshina, or the threat that had turned his own existence into a nightmare. He must save Hoshina, and not only because of his love for the man. Losing Hoshina and their partnership would weaken him politically, rendering him vulnerable to his foes, who included Lord Matsudaira. Should he lose the shogun’s favor, they would hasten to attack him. His need to save Hoshina entwined with the absolute necessity of rescuing Lady Keisho-in and maintaining his power. Yanagisawa hoped that a talk with Lord Kii would further at least one of these purposes.
Lord Kii’s martial arts training ground was a large, rectangular field, surrounded by stables and full of samurai. Two armies, differentiated by colored flags worn on poles attached to their backs, fought a mock battle. The soldiers charged on horseback across the ground and struck at one another with wooden practice swords. Dust flew and war-whoops rang out. Commanders shouted orders; signalers blew conch trumpets. Entering the ground, Yanagisawa spied Lord Kii.
The daimyo, clad in armor and a helmet crowned with golden horns, watched from astride his horse, amid his retainers, at one end of the field. His armor added bulk to his massive physique. As Yanagisawa gestured for his entourage to wait and approached Lord Kii, the daimyo turned toward him. An iron mask with a snarling mouth shielded his face. He raised a leather-gloved hand to his armies.
“Stop!” he bellowed.
The battle and noise ceased. The armies separated, lining up in ranks as Lord Kii dismounted and walked over to meet Yanagisawa. Lord Kii removed his helmet and mask, revealing a ruddy, smiling face that was shaped like a pumpkin and youthful despite his sixty years. Crinkles around his eyes, and a gap between his front teeth, increased his amiable appearance. Despite his size, his position as one of Japan ’s most powerful daimyo, and his enthusiasm for military training, Lord Kii was a meek, gentle-natured man.
“Welcome, Honorable Chamberlain,” he said. He and all his troops bowed. “What a privilege it is to have you here.”
“The privilege is mine,” Yanagisawa said, pretending he hadn’t just exercised his right to command Lord Kii’s attention whenever he wanted. “Please don’t interrupt your business on my account.”
Lord Kii signaled his troops, and the battle resumed. His retainers moved away to give him and Yanagisawa privacy to talk. “If I’d known you wanted to see me, I’d have come to you,” Lord Kii said with his usual eagerness to please. “But I’m glad of this chance to thank you again for your hospitality at the banquet seven nights ago.”
“An evening’s entertainment is the least I can give such a good friend as you,” Yanagisawa said.
Over the years he’d given Lord Kii many gifts and favors, courting his allegiance. The old daimyo had repaid Yanagisawa by pledging him military support if and when needed. Lord Kii, though none too bright, knew how much authority Yanagisawa had over the bakufu. Yanagisawa had easily convinced Lord Kii that together they would come out on top of any power struggle. Furthermore, Lord Kii was too afraid of Yanagisawa to refuse him anything. The daimyo was the perfect ally: He had wealth, lands, and troops, but no ambition of his own. A born follower, he now belonged to Yanagisawa.
“I’m surprised that you have time to call on me, when the court must be in an uproar over the kidnapping,” said Lord Kii.
“The kidnapping is why I’m here,” Yanagisawa said. “We must talk.”
“Certainly.”
They walked to a stand of tiered planks, used as seats during tournaments, that extended along the field. They stood on the highest tier, in the shade of a canopy.
“Did you know that the kidnapper has demanded the execution of Police Commissioner Hoshina in exchange for returning Lady Keisho-in?” Yanagisawa said.
“So I’ve heard,” said Lord Kii. “How unfortunate for Hoshina-san, and for you, Honorable Chamberlain. Please accept my sympathy.”
Yanagisawa watched the daimyo closely, but could detect no guile beneath his sincere manner. Apparently Lord Kii didn’t know how the ransom demand related to him. “The investigation has focused on Hoshina-san’s enemies,” Yanagisawa said. “The sōsakan-sama thinks those enemies include you. Because of our friendship, I’ve come to talk to you myself, instead of letting Sano-san interrogate you and blame you for the kidnapping.”
But Yanagisawa had motives other than shielding Lord Kii from Sano. He wanted to test his hunch that Lord Kii was innocent of the crime and affirm the man’s allegiance to him. He didn’t want Sano to rush in here and cause trouble that might upset the balance of power. Even if Yanagisawa eliminated one suspect-and one chance to rescue Lady Keisho-in and stay Hoshina’s execution-he would serve his other needs.