The Dragon King vacillated, scowling as he pondered whether the threat to Reiko-and Anemone-necessitated changing the arrangements he’d made. Reiko turned their clasped hands so that his lay on top. With the fingertips of her other hand she stroked his hand with gentle, lingering, sensuous movements, as she often did to Sano. Her spirit grieved, because voluntarily touching the Dragon King seemed a betrayal of Sano, and the first willing step toward losing her virtue.
“The tower is too far from you.” Reiko trailed her fingers along the Dragon King’s wrist. “Move me into the palace, where we can be close.” Her whisper promised nights of wild passion. Her seductive manner hid anguish.
The Dragon King moaned. While Reiko continued her caresses up his arm, bumps rose on his skin; he closed his eyes, and a shudder coursed through him. Even as she dreaded to arouse him into ravishing her, she sensed him fighting the impulse. He suddenly tore himself away from Reiko, strode outside to the balcony, and slumped against the rail, his breath rasping.
Although heartily relieved that the seduction need go no further, Reiko experienced confusion at his response. What had held him back from the carnal union that she knew he wanted? She thought of Midori laboring in the wet, bleak prison, and her spirits sank deeper. If this first attempt at manipulating the Dragon King failed, what chance had her plan to free herself and her friends?
“I will think about what you’ve asked,” the Dragon King said, his back still turned toward Reiko. Then he called, “Ota-san! Take her away.”
26
The government archives inhabited a mansion in the official quarter of Edo Castle. Here Sano had worked when he’d first joined the bakufu, before the shogun had assigned him to investigate crimes. In its main study, clerks moved aside the desks where they copied, sorted, and filed documents. The chief archivist, a pudgy, middle-aged samurai named Noguchi, spread huge maps of Japan on the cleared floor space. Sano and Chamberlain Yanagisawa knelt to examine the maps, which were brilliantly painted in blue to represent rivers, lakes, and oceans, green for plains, and brown shades for mountains. Inked characters marked cities and the names of landowners.
“Dannoshin Minoru must have had a particular destination in mind when he abducted the women,” Sano said.
“He wouldn’t count on finding a suitable prison on the spur of the moment,” Yanagisawa agreed. "A man who’s been plotting revenge for twelve years is neither impulsive nor inclined to trust in luck.”
“And a man as clever as Dannoshin would know enough to avoid attracting notice while he’s holding the shogun’s mother captive,” Sano said. “He wouldn’t take rooms at an inn or rent a house in a village, because people who’d heard about the kidnapping would get suspicious.”
Yanagisawa perused a map of the Hakone region. “There are caves in’the wilderness around the kidnapping site. Maybe he scouted one in advance and hid the hostages there.”
“Maybe,” Sano said, "but I would bet that Dannoshin owns a property where he can be sure no one will happen upon him and report him to the authorities.”
“If he does, and that’s where he went, it can’t be far from the kidnapping site,” Yanagisawa said. “He needed to hide the women quickly to avoid being seen, and minimize the risk of their escaping.”
Sano traced his finger along the white line on the map that represented the Tōkaidō. He stopped at the winding stretch where Lady Keisho-in’s party had been ambushed. Then he drew an invisible circle whose radius corresponded to a day’s journey from the spot. The circle contained the names of local landholders.
“Let’s begin looking here,” Sano said.
The shogun sat on the dais in the audience chamber, presiding over a meeting that concerned national defense and included Uemori Yoichi, a member of the Council of Elders and chief military advisor to the Tokugawa, and several top army officials. While Uemori droned on about troop supplies, fortifications that needed improvement, and arsenal inventories, the shogun worried about his mother. He imagined Lady Keisho-in trapped somewhere, wondering why he didn’t rescue her. He fidgeted, barely able to tolerate sitting idle and waiting for Chamberlain Yanagisawa and Sōsakan Sano to bring him news. How he wished that he himself could do something to save his mother and catch her kidnapper!
“Your Excellency, will you please sign this?” Uemori reached up to the dais and set documents on the table there.
The shogun contemplated the documents with timid uncertainty. Having paid no attention to the discussion, he didn’t know whether he should approve them. But even if he had listened, he probably wouldn’t have known. Ruling a nation was so difficult!
“What is this?” he said, cautiously fingering the pages.
“Authorizations for treasury funds to cover the costs we just reviewed.” llemori spoke in a tone of patient forbearance.
The shogun sighed. What else could he do except follow other people’s advice? Yet suddenly he was sick and tired of his own impotence, and furious at the world.
“How dare you, ahh, bother me with trivia at a time like this?” he shouted at his subordinates. They regarded him in surprise. He crumpled the documents and flung them at llemori. “Take this and, ahh, insert it up your, ahh, rear end!”
Uemori ducked; the other men sat grave and wary of their lord’s anger. Just then, Dr. Kitano, the chief Edo Castle physician, entered the room. “Excuse me, Your Excellency,” he said.
“What do you want?” the shogun demanded.
Dr. Kitano knelt and bowed. “Please pardon the interruption,” he said, “but Suiren has regained consciousness. I had orders to notify Sōsakan Sano, but I can’t find him, so I thought I’d better report directly to you, Your Excellency.”
The shogun frowned, puzzled by the news. “Who is Suiren?” he said.
Dr. Kitano looked surprised that the shogun didn’t know. “She’s your mother’s maid. The one who survived the attack.”
More annoyed than enlightened, the shogun said, “Why should I care that she’s, ahh, conscious? Why do you, ahh, bother me about her?”
“There is a possibility that Suiren heard or saw something that could help us determine where the kidnappers took your honorable mother,” Uemori interjected.
“Ahh. And now that she’s conscious, she can, ahh, tell us what she knows.” Comprehension quickly gave way to anxiety. “Sōsakan Sano must go to her at once!” Then recollection struck the shogun. “But Sano-san is out tracking down Dannoshin Minoru. So is Chamberlain Yanagisawa.” The shogun pointed at one of his secretaries.
“Go fetch them.”
As the secretary started to obey, Uemori said, “With all due respect, Your Excellency, perhaps the chamberlain and sōsakan-sama should be allowed to finish what they’re doing.”
The shogun chewed his lip, humbled by Uemori’s better judgment. “Never mind,” he told the secretary.
“Someone else could question the maid,” Uemori said.
“Ahh. Yes. You are right,” the shogun said, then asked in bewilderment, “But who shall I send? I can’t entrust such an important task to just anyone.”
Out of nowhere came a sudden, novel idea: Why don’t I go myself? So disconcerted was the shogun that his jaw dropped. Yet the idea seemed the perfect solution, because interrogating the maid would satisfy his desire for action. While his audience watched him as if wondering what had gotten into him, he stepped toward the edge of the dais… only to hesitate. Talking to a servant was beneath him. He must uphold the dignity of his rank and let his underlings do his dirty work. Wishing Sano and Yanagisawa were here to spare him this dilemma, he started to step back, but the thought of them arrested him.