Black Lotus (29 page)

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Authors: Laura Joh Rowland

Tags: #Suspense, #Mystery, #Detective, #Historical Fiction, #Fiction, #General, #Mystery & Detective, #Mystery Fiction, #Historical, #Mystery & Detective - Women Sleuths, #Fiction - Mystery, #Women Sleuths, #Modern & contemporary fiction (post c 1945), #Crime & Thriller, #Crime & mystery, #Mystery & Detective - Historical, #1688-1704, #Laura Joh Rowland, #Japan, #Sano (Fictitious character), #Ichiro, #Police Procedural, #Samurai, #Ichiro (Fictitious character), #Sano, #Japan - History - Genroku period, #Police, #Ichirō (Fictitious character), #Police spouses, #Police - Japan

BOOK: Black Lotus
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Midori cautiously sat upright. Anraku stepped forward to the red bars of the low railing that bordered the altar. The mirrors multiplied his image all around the room. His beauty dazzled Midori. His gaze scanned the novices, and when it briefly held Midori's, she felt an instant, exhilarating connection to him.

"I congratulate you on the advent of your membership in the Black Lotus," Anraku said. "You have come here from many different circumstances of life, from places near and far, but you all have one marvelous thing in common."

He paused, and Midori shared the breathless suspense that immobilized the audience.

"You are unique among mortals," Anraku continued, spreading his arms in an all-encompassing embrace. The smoky air vibrated with the chanting and the force of his personality. "You have extraordinary perception and strong, pure spirit. You are capable of miracles. You are destined for greatness."

Pride swelled the chests of the hundred novices and brought smiles to their faces. Anraku's words stirred Midori despite her role as an outsider and spy. The drifting incense smoke suffused her lungs; she felt giddy. Perhaps she really was special, and Anraku was the first to recognize the fact.

"You have all paid a price for being special." As Anraku leaned toward the audience, he seemed to grow in stature; his voice reverberated. "The world is cruel to those who are different. You have suffered slights, mockery, and rejection. You have been ostracized, banished, and punished unjustly. Your lives have been filled with pain."

Sobs punctuated the chanting. Midori saw grief contorting the faces of the young women. Their misery infected her. She recalled Hirata's hurtful teasing and his neglect of her, Reiko's condescension, the Edo Castle ladies-in-waiting who snubbed her, the family she rarely saw. Tears spilled from her eyes.

"Those who have hurt you have done so because they envy you."

Anraku said. "They wish to destroy the superiority that you possess and they can never achieve."

Revelation stunned Midori. Such a perfectly logical explanation for her troubles! All around her she saw comprehension dawning on tearful faces.

"But your suffering has a purpose. The divine forces have sent misfortunes to test your spirits. By surviving, you have passed the test. Now fate has chosen you to join an elite order of people like yourselves. You have come to your true home. Here you shall find the fulfillment you deserve."

Anraku smiled, radiating a benevolence that healed past hurts. Now the novices wept for joy, and Midori with them. Perhaps fate really had brought her here, and this was indeed the one place where people would appreciate her.

"Look around you at your new clan," Anraku said with a sweeping gesture of his hand. "Know that you belong here, together, among others of your kind."

Warm, affectionate glances passed among the novices. Midori felt the bliss of a comradeship she'd never known before. She chanted, "Praise the glory of the Black Lotus!"

"You share an important purpose," Anraku said. "You all seek spiritual awareness, divine knowledge, and the ultimate expression of the powers within. With me as your guide, you shall attain all those blessings. You are ready to begin the first step of your journey."

Eager stirrings rippled the audience. Anraku said, "The Black Lotus Sutra describes the path to enlightenment as a tapestry woven from an infinite number of threads. Approach me one by one so that I may look into your spirit and discern which thread bears your name."

Two nuns walked to the first row of novices. They led a young woman up to the altar. Midori experienced sudden alarm. She'd gotten so carried away by the ritual that she'd forgotten why she was here. Anraku leaned down, grasped the novice's face between his hands, and stared intently into her eyes. The chanting accelerated. Midori saw Anraku's lips move as he spoke to the novice and knew she couldn't go up there. When her turn came, Anraku might guess she was a spy!

Anraku released the novice, who stumbled back to her place, weeping. Nuns led other novices to the altar. After the high priest spoke to them, some moaned, cried, or acquired wondering, dazed expressions; some fainted. What was he saying to them? Midori wondered. Soon the nuns came for her. Filled with dread, she rose, swaying dizzily as if she were drunk. The nuns supported her as she wove to the altar. Mirrored lights and smoke spun around Midori; the chanting echoed through her. Heart racing, she stood before Anraku.

He seemed tall as a mountain, his robe bright as fire against the huge black lotus flower. Then he leaned down, and his hard, warm hands clasped Midori's cheeks. Midori dared not look straight at him, lest he realize her deception, yet his gaze captured hers. His single eye was a beacon that illuminated every corner of her soul. Perceiving unfathomable dimensions behind the black patch, Midori whimpered in terror.

Then Anraku smiled, and the sense of deep connection with him soothed Midori. He said in a soft, hypnotic voice, "Love is the force that compels you. Unrequited love saddens your heart. For love you would walk through fire, travel to the end of the earth, wait for an eternity. Love brought you to me."

How could he know? Midori thought wildly. Had he found out who she was? She longed to run away, but his firm grasp paralyzed her.

"Love is your path to enlightenment," Anraku said. "It is a path through much darkness and trouble, but I shall guide you safely to your destiny. Follow me, and you shall win your heart's desire."

Wisdom illuminated his face. His power flowed from his hands into Midori like a charge of energy. As she stared at him, his image transformed. Suddenly it was Hirata holding her, smiling down at her. Joy exhilarated Midori. The high priest really could grant her anything she wanted, even Hirata! Then the vision dissolved, and Anraku released her.

Midori experienced a sensation of falling away from him at great speed as lights swirled around her. Abruptly, she found herself kneeling in the row of novice nuns. Breathless from shock, she tried to figure out what had happened, but rational thought eluded her. She knew the high priest was drawing her into his realm of enchantment and she must resist, yet she desperately wanted what he offered.

Novices continued going to and from the altar. Moans, sobs, and emotion agitated the group. Midori wondered what he'd promised everyone else. That he could know them all and give them everything made no sense; yet it made perfect sense. Midori felt her will weakening, her spirit cleaving to Anraku.

When the ritual ended, Anraku surveyed the novices with proud satisfaction. They raised rapt faces to him, and Midori knew they felt toward him the same fear, trust, and attraction as she did. Anraku said,

"Now you each know the path that is yours to follow. Before you embark on your journey, you must take the vows that arc required from all members of the Black Lotus sect." He lifted his hands. "Rise, my children."

Midori clambered to her feet. Still dizzy, she wobbled. The unsteady bodies of Toshiko and other young women bumped her.

"Repeat after me," Anraku said: "I pledge to embrace the Black Lotus faith and shun all other faiths forever."

As an untrained newcomer Midori had no idea what comprised her new faith, but that seemed less important than saying whatever was necessary to earn the reward Anraku had promised. Her voice joined the loud, heartfelt chorus of repetitions.

"I pledge to forsake my family, friends, and the entire outside world," Anraku said.

Even as visions of her sisters, Hirata, Reiko, Sano, and Masahiro flitted through Midori's mind, she recited the oath.

Distorted perception magnified Anraku to colossal stature; his mirrored, glittering reflections filled the room with his presence. He intoned, "I pledge to dedicate my life to the service of the Black Lotus."

The novices echoed him with increasing fervor. Midori felt her whole self blending into the group.

"I pledge to obey High Priest Anraku from now until forever," Anraku said.

Shouting the vow, Midori could no longer distinguish her voice from the voices of her comrades. Her heart beat in rhythm with theirs; they breathed together like a single being.

"I pledge my loyalty to the Black Lotus sect," Anraku said.

Hysteria transformed the people around Midori into a hot, dense mass of swaying bodies and reaching hands. "I pledge my loyalty to the Black Lotus sect!"

With stern gravity, Anraku said, "This is your last, most important pledge: If I should break my vows, may death strike me down and doom me to an eternity in hell."

Thunderous response shook the room. Excited beyond rationality, Midori couldn't bear for the ritual to stop. Body and spirit demanded something more, though she didn't know what.

"Now we shall affirm your vows with the sacred initiation rite of the Black Lotus," Anraku said.

Chanting priests formed ranks behind the rows of novices. Two nuns climbed steps to the altar. Anraku spread his arms, and they removed his brocade robe. He stood proudly nude and magnificent. Midori stared because she'd never seen a naked man before. The sight of Anraku's manhood shamed and fascinated her.

"I welcome you as a follower of the true faith." Anraku extended his open hands. Towering amid the candles and smoke, he looked like an idol come to life. "Share my power. Receive my blessing."

The two nuns knelt on either side of Anraku. The priest behind Midori closed a hand over her shoulder. Twisting away, she looked around at him. He was a few years older than she, with a sly face. He grasped her shoulders and turned her to face the altar. Midori saw other priests holding the other novices. She recoiled from her priest, whimpering --- this seemed wrong. Around her, novice nuns, wrapped in the arms of their priests, sighed with pleasure. The sensual atmosphere enfolded Midori. The priest's cheek grazed hers. When she again turned to look at him, she saw that he was Hirata.

Midori exclaimed in bewilderment and joy. Hirata embraced her the way she'd imagined in her secret fantasies; his eyes smoldered with desire. Midori's whole body tingled at his touch. Moaning, she leaned back against Hirata. Such a miracle to have him at last! Midori didn't care how he'd gotten here, or who saw them.

Novices and priests arched, writhed, intertwined limbs, and thrust against one another. Groans and cries rose above the chanting that emanated from nowhere and everywhere. The nuns on the altar stroked Anraku's organ; it swelled and lifted.

"Come close," Anraku said, his voice hoarse with excitement. "Release the spiritual energy that dwells within me."

Couples moved toward him. Hirata whispered to Midori, "I love you. You are mine. I am yours."

The words filled Midori with bliss. When he led her to the altar, she didn't resist. She would do anything for him, anything for Anraku, who'd given Hirata to her. The couples crowded around the altar, chanting, "Praise the glory of the Black Lotus!"

Anraku stood, chest heaving, glistening with sweat, as the nuns each clasped a hand around his organ and pumped him. Suddenly he tensed, threw back his head, flung out his arms, and bellowed, "Let my power flow from me to you!"

His seed spurted. Hirata held Midori tighter. She cried out in heartfelt bliss, all her romantic dreams fulfilled. Uproar from the crowd echoed them.

The nuns on the altar clothed Anraku in his brocade robe. He held his fists out to the crowd. "Come and receive my spiritual force!" he shouted.

He opened'his fists. Blood trickled from the palms. The crowd surged forward. Novices eagerly licked at Anraku's hands; blood smeared their faces, stained their robes. Midori's dizziness increased, but Hirata held her upright. Will and caution deserted her as Anraku pressed his palm to her mouth.

She swallowed thick, salty blood. Anraku, the nuns, and the priests chanted the Black Lotus Sutra, but Midori couldn't comprehend the words. Lights, smoke, and voices blurred into a single overpowering sensation. Drowsiness descended upon Midori; her vision dimmed. She was remotely aware of Hirata lifting her in his arms, carrying her away. She realized that something bad had happened, but she'd lost the power to appreciate the difference between right and wrong. Something had gone very amiss with her plans… what those plans were, she couldn't recall. As Midori sank into dark unconsciousness, fleeting thoughts surfaced in her mind: She must stay at the Black Lotus Temple. She wished she could remember why.

27

If you are imprisoned,
Hands and feet bound by chains,
The Bodhisattva of Infinite Power will release you.
-----FROM THE BLACK LOTUS SUTRA

A full moon pocked and scored with shadows broke through veils of cloud above Edo Jail, which dominated the dark, empty streets in northeast Nihonbashi. Lights burned in watchtowers along the jail's high stone walls, and within passages patrolled by guards. A bonfire of refuse smoked in a courtyard. Wails issued from the dilapidated prison buildings.

In a cell in the prison, Haru lay on a pile of straw. Moonlight filtered through the tiny barred window onto her frightened face. Shivering in the cold, she hugged herself and pulled her bare feet under her skimpy muslin robe. The stench of human waste nauseated her. Up and down the corridors outside her locked door, other female prisoners moaned, coughed, and snored. A woman wailed, "Help! Let me out!" The pleas echoed Hanu's own desperation. She clung to hope that had waned as the hours passed.

After her arrest, she'd struggled and screamed so wildly that the soldiers had bound and gagged her. They'd transported her along the streets on an oxcart, through jeering crowds. When she arrived at the prison, the jailers had untied her and thrown her into this cell. Haru had beat her fists on the door, rampaged around the cell,.shrieked, wept, and tried to climb the wall to the window until exhaustion overcame her. She'd fallen asleep, then awakened after dark to lucid misery. Now, weak from hunger and thirst, her body aching, she thought of the events that had brought her here.

She'd worked so hard to convince Reiko that she was good and innocent. Reiko was like a kind, loving older sister, and Haru was grateful to Reiko for trying to help. If only the
sōsakan-sama
hadn't found her parents! And if only Abbess Junketsu-in, Dr. Miwa, Priest Kuma-shiro, and the orphans hadn't said bad things about her. They and the
sōsakan-sama
hated her and wanted her to die. Now Haru pinned her hopes of rescue on High Priest Anraku.

When she'd first come to the Black Lotus Temple, Anraku had selected her to be his personal attendant. She'd served his meals, run errands for him, and become his lover. Her position as one of his favorites gave her privileged status. She didn't have to do chores, spend long hours studying and praying, or obey rules. Anraku had given her what she most wanted and life had until then denied her: to be treated as special. Her parents had considered her just another pair of hands to help out in the noodle shop. Her husband had treated her like a slave. Only Anraku understood that she deserved better.

"Your path through life is the one that interweaves and unites all other paths," he'd told her. "You are the lightning that begins the storm, the spark that shall ignite the conflagration, the weight that shall tip the balance between good and bad. The ultimate destiny of the Black Lotus depends upon you."

He'd never explained what he meant, but Haru was content to serve him and enjoy her privileges. Anraku was beautiful, wise, and strong, and she loved him. His power had shielded her from other people's disapproval and the consequences of her behavior. Haru had believed in her importance to him and relied on his protection, but now it seemed that Anraku had forsaken her.

After the fire at the cottage, Haru had expected Anraku to make everything all right for her. But instead, Anraku had let the police interrogate her and take her away from him. At Zōjō Temple and Magistrate Ueda's house, Haru had waited in vain for him to bring her home. Had Kumashiro, Junketsu-in, and Miwa turned him against her?

Terror and misery roiled inside Haru. She tried to tell herself that Anraku wouldn't listen to accusations from her enemies. With his divine powers, wouldn't he know that what had happened at the cottage had been a necessary event along the path of her life? Yet perhaps he'd had a new vision that altered his feelings toward her. A sob choked Haru. She could think of no other reason to explain why she was now alone and in grave peril.

The woman down the corridor stopped wailing. The prison slumbered; in the distance, dogs howled. Haru closed her eyes. As sleep overtook her, she drifted to another place and time. She was struggling with Commander Oyama in the cottage. He pushed her down on the floor, laughing at her screams, his fleshy face red with lust as he pawed her…

Suddenly the scene changed to the bedchamber of the house where Haru had lived during her marriage. Oyama turned into her husband: withered, toothless, irate. Haru wanted to push him off her, but his servants held her down. Grunting, he thrust himself between her legs…

She ran through darkness. Fire exploded behind her, and she heard pursuing footsteps. Now she was standing on a pile of lit coals, tied to a stake. Flames burned her robe; angry spectators cheered. In the rising fire she saw an image of priests tearing a little boy from the arms of Nurse Chie, who screamed, "No, no!" The flames leapt higher, searing her skin, igniting her hair…

With a gasp, Haru bolted awake and upright, her heart pounding. Even as she realized that she'd been dreaming, quick, stealthy footsteps came down the corridor. She heard a metallic scraping sound as the iron bar that secured the door to her cell withdrew. Instinctive alarm launched Haru to her feet. She scuttled into the cell's back corner and stood still, arms pressed to her sides, trying to make herself invisible.

The door cracked open, and they slipped into the cell --- three men wearing cloths tied over their hair and the lower portions of their faces. The last one in shut the door quietly. Haru saw their eyes glint in the moonlight and fix on her. She could scent aggression in their sweaty, pungent odor, hear malevolent purpose in their harsh breathing. Squealing in fear, she shrank into the corner. The tallest man swiftly crossed the room toward her. He seized the front of her robe, jerked her close to him, and clamped a hand over her mouth.

"Don't fight, and don't make a sound," he whispered hoarsely, "or I'll kill you. Understand?"

He held her trapped between his body and the walls. His hard fingers squeezed her jaw shut and mashed her lips against her teeth. As terror constricted her chest, Haru nodded.

"I've come to tell you what you're going to do," the man said, his mouth moving behind the cloth. "So listen well."

Haru didn't recognize his eyes or his voice. The other men standing on either side of him seemed vaguely familiar, but with their features hidden Haru couldn't be certain.

"When you go to your trial, you will confess to murdering those people and burning the cottage," said her captor.

An involuntary mewl of protest issued from Hani's throat. The man shoved her, banging her head against the wall. The blow stunned Hanu; her ears rang.

"You think you can save yourself by saying you didn't do it," he said as if reading her thoughts, "but if you don't confess, and the magistrate spares your life, you'll come to wish you had been executed after all."

Who was he, and why did he want her to die? The questions flitted unanswered through Hani's confusion and fright.

"We're going to give you a taste of what you can expect unless you do as I say," the man hissed.

He yanked her out of the corner, spun her around, and flung her away from him. His companions caught her. She cried out and clawed at them, but one man locked muscular arms around her while the other gagged her with a cloth. Haru retched. Her heart thudded in panic. The two men held her by the wrists; stretched between them, she twisted and struggled.

The man who'd spoken struck her cheek. Hani's head snapped back. Pain shot through her face. He hit her nose and ears; more pain rocked her. Warm, salty blood streamed out of her nostrils, clogged her throat. Certain that they would hurt her even more if she made noise, Haru fought the urge to scream. She wept while the man attacked her with a short leather whip that lashed lines of agony across her breasts and stomach, her back and buttocks and legs. The only sounds in the cell were the crack of the whip, her tormenters' harsh breathing, and her own muffled sobs.

Then the two men let go of her. Haru collapsed, her whole body quivering in agony. Now the men were rolling her on her back, tearing open her robe, spreading her legs. The tall man straddled her, and reality merged with the horrors of her nightmare.

"No!" she pleaded through the gag.

She flailed, but the other men grabbed her wrists and ankles. They held her still while their comrade shoved his organ into her. Haru gave a shrill cry of pain. He smacked her head.

"Quiet!" he growled, plunging and heaving.

He was Commander Oyama; he was her husband. His foul stench sickened Haru as the brutal mating continued. Gritting her teeth, she thought how much she hated them all.

"Confess, or expect much worse than this," he rasped in her ear.

But she could never tell all that she'd done and seen, because she would lose what mattered as much as her life.

"If you escape execution, I'll come after you," the man said. "Wherever you go, whatever you do, I'll find you. I'll punish you until you plead for the mercy of death. Then I'll kill you."

He grunted, and Haru felt his hardness break inside her. As he withdrew and rose from her, she moaned in relief, but then one of the other men mounted her. Again came the savage thrusting, the pain. And again, when the third man took his turn. Haru's crotch was sore and slick with blood. The frantic tossing of her head loosened the gag.

"Stop! Leave me alone!" she screamed.

She heard stirrings in the other cells as prisoners awakened. The man on top of her froze.

"Help! Help!" Coherency deserted her, and she shrieked in hysterical bursts.

Down the corridor came hurrying footsteps. Male voices conversed somewhere nearby. The man leapt off Haru, cursing. As her assailants rushed to the door, the tall one paused.

"Remember what I told you," he said.

Haru kept shrieking; she couldn't stop. Three guards burst into the cell, carrying lanterns that lit the room. Through a daze of pain and tears, Haru saw their shocked faces as they stared down at her exposed body.

Her assailants were gone.

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