Shinju (38 page)

Despite frequent cleaning and the liberal use of fragrant herbs, the wide slot emitted a strong odor of feces and urine. O-hisa, peering into the dim compartment below the privy's raised floor, could see the partially full catch basin. She fought nausea as she sat down and gingerly lowered her legs into the slot.

The space between the slot and the floor of the compartment was less than her own height. Arms braced against the rim of the slot, O-hisa held her breath as she felt with her toe for the basin. She found it, then swung backward as she dropped, to avoid stepping in it. But she misjudged. When she landed, her foot struck and tipped the basin. Warm, slimy filth splattered her legs and drenched her socks. At the same time, her need for air forced her to breathe. The stench assailed her, and she retched. Crouching in the cramped, fetid compartment, she clapped a hand over her mouth, praying that O-aki hadn't heard and wouldn't open the door. The darkness disoriented her. Where was the hatch that the servants used to remove and clean the basin?

Her groping hands found the small trap door and pushed it open. Sickness and panic overcame caution, and she squeezed through it without remembering to make sure no one was watching. Free! She lay on the ground for a moment and gulped the clean, fresh air with relief. Then she struggled to her feet, letting
down her kimono as she ran. Fear weakened her muscles and made her heart flutter in her chest. But O-hisa found strength and courage in the thought of her mother and grandmother. After she and Sano had seen the Council of Elders, she would go home for good. She would never return to the Nius.

Each of the mansion's many wings held potential dangers. O-hisa avoided the busy women's quarters and kitchens. Instead she scurried through the gate leading to the vacant men's apartments, where the daimyo, his elder sons, and their closest advisers lived when they were in Edo. There she would be safe from young Lord Niu, who had rooms in a separate wing, and from the watchful eyes of the servants.

She paused to get her bearings. She'd never been in this part of the
yashiki
before, and the unfamiliar complex of shuttered buildings and deserted gardens confused her. Which way to the back gate?

O-hisa struck off in a likely direction. She had no time to lose. At any moment O-aki would open the privy door, find her missing, and tell Yasue. They would send out a party to search the estate for her.

As she hurried down a narrow path between two buildings, O-hisa heard a raspy sound. A door opening? She let out a shriek before she could stop herself. She spun around, then her panic receded a little when she identified the source of the sound: a branch scraping against a wall. O-hisa almost longed to be caught and released from fear and uncertainty, but the memory of her family fueled her determination. In just a few hours, she would be home. She imagined her mother's and grandmother's pleased surprise at her arrival, a day early, for her New Year visit. She would bury her face against her mother's bosom and forget the murder she'd seen, and the terror she'd experienced since. She would not think beyond that moment of exquisite relief and joy. She would not think of how alarmed and unhappy they would be
when they learned why she'd given up her post, or how the Nius might punish them all.

O-hisa dashed the rest of the way down the path to emerge into a garden where huge, craggy boulders dotted an expanse of white gravel. Her running feet left prints in its carefully raked pattern of parallel lines.

She'd almost made it to the gate at the other end of the garden when she heard footsteps coming across the gravel behind her. Without stopping, she half turned. Her mouth opened to scream when she recognized her pursuer and met his merciless gaze. But the scream never had time to leave her.

A cord slipped over her head. It tightened around her neck. Red darkness exploded in her brain as she coughed and choked, fighting for air. In desperation, she clawed at the cord. Her fingernails gouged her own flesh. Blood roared in her ears. Her teeth locked her tongue in an agonizing grip. Blindly she grabbed for her attacker's hands; her twitching fingers closed upon air.

“Uh, uh!” she gurgled, trying to call for help.

None came. Red turned to dense black. O-hisa felt herself begin to spin in dizzying, ever-faster circles. As consciousness ebbed away from her, she saw again the blessed golden image of her home, and her mother and grandmother sitting by the stove. Their loving smiles beckoned her. O-hisa's heart yearned toward them. With the last of her strength, she fought for life. She must survive to see them again. But the vision quickly darkened, then disappeared as another took its place.

Miss Yukiko. Radiant, smiling in infinite compassion. Holding out a hand to welcome O-hisa into death.

E
do Castle dominated its wooded hilltop, a great fortified city-within-a-city that housed the shogun Tokugawa Tsunayoshi, his family, his closest allies, and a veritable army of soldiers, officials, and servants within its massive stone walls.

Sano walked up to the shimmering moat, gazing at the castle with the awe that this symbol of Tokugawa supremacy always inspired in him. For the first time, he grasped the full extent of Lord Niu's madness. Who in his right mind would dare challenge this? The castle had stood for almost a hundred years, and it looked ready to stand for at least as many more, judging from the strength of its defenses. Countless samurai stood inside guardhouses that topped the walls, and more occupied lookout towers. Above the walls, the keep soared five stories high, a square white tower composed of many smaller towers. Its gables and barred windows provided lines of fire to archers and gunners; its plastered walls and tile roofs could resist both fire arrows and bullets. At ground level, a battalion of guards manned the iron-plated main gate. Armed with muskets as well as swords, they controlled the heavy flow of traffic in and out of the castle.

Watching the visitors, mostly samurai who presumably had legitimate business inside, Sano felt more than a little intimidated. He'd never been inside the castle; his family was too unimportant and his rank too low for him to have enjoyed the honor. But he
knew that somewhere, deep inside the palace, were the headquarters of the Tokugawa spy network. There the
metsuke
collated and interpreted information gathered by agents and informers all over the country and distributed it to the shogun and his advisers. To them he must bring the news of the treasonous Conspiracy of Twenty-One.

Still he hesitated, reluctant to cross the bridge. Except for Cherry Eater's word, he had no evidence that the conspiracy planned to kill the shogun. He didn't know how, when, or where the assassination attempt would take place. His own conviction that the plot gave Lord Niu a motive for the murders wouldn't influence the authorities. After all, Raiden had been executed for Yukiko's and Noriyoshi's murders, and Tsunehiko's death officially ruled a highway killing. He would just have to tell his story from the beginning, present his conclusions, and hope that the
metsuke
would draw similar ones. Taking a deep breath, he squared his shoulders and marched across the bridge.

“I would like an audience with the
metsuke
,” he told the guards, after identifying himself.

They looked him over in a bored fashion. One of them said, “Show me your pass.”

“I don't have one. But I've come on a matter of extreme urgency.” Sano had anticipated difficulty in getting past the castle's security, which protected its occupants not only from physical threats but also from callers who might waste their time. “I bring news of vital importance to the shogun,” he added. “Please allow me to convey it to the
metsuke
.”

“ ‘Vital importance,' eh?” The spokesman leaned on his spear. “Suppose you tell me what it is. I'll see that it gets to the right people.”

Imagining how his story would be distorted as it passed through the castle's bureaucratic channels—possibly never reaching the
metsuke
at all—Sano shook his head. “I must speak with them personally.”

“Well, you can't.” The guard shed his veneer of courtesy, his voice turning sharp. He was a Tokugawa foot soldier, one of a breed known for their arrogance and rudeness. “Either leave a message, and if the
metsuke
want to see you, they'll send a summons. Or else get lost. We're busy.” He turned to question an arriving party of samurai.

Sano had managed to extract one more piece of information from Cherry Eater before freeing the drenched and indignant
shunga
dealer: the identity of the
metsuke
to whom Noriyoshi had reported. But Cherry Eater wasn't sure whether the exact name was Jodo Ikkyu or Toda Ikkyu.

Taking a chance, he said, “Toda Ikkyu will have your heads if you don't bring me to him at once.”

The guard's head snapped around. “You're Toda's creature?” His face relaxed from a scowl to a knowing smirk. “Why didn't you say so in the first place?” Banging on the gate with his spear, he shouted to someone inside. Another guard came out. “Take this man to Toda Ikkyu.”

The other guard gestured for Sano to follow him. Sano realized that they thought he was one of Toda's informers. Well, he was, in a way. And he'd learned that this was how the government bureaucracy worked: by manipulation of men through their fear of their superiors.

Inside the gate, more walls formed a square enclosure designed as a trap for invading enemies who managed to penetrate the castle's outer defense. At least twenty more guards stood watch, rigid and stern. They took away Sano's swords and searched him for hidden weapons. Then they swung open another gate that stood at right angles to the first.

This opened into a large courtyard bordered by long wooden sheds hung with red curtains. Inside them, Sano could see row upon row of weapons: swords, bows, spears, muskets. Hundreds of armored samurai stood in or in front of the sheds. Others, mounted on horses caparisoned with battle regalia, paced the
courtyard. The odor of horses sharpened the air; the tramp of restless feet and the rumble of voices echoed off the walls. Beyond a second moat and bridge stood another wall. The keep towered above it, looking grimmer and more solid than from a distance. Sano felt tiny and insignificant in the presence of such military might. Lord Niu's madness must give him superhuman courage.

Once past another set of sentries and across the bridge, Sano entered another enclosure, with more guards and yet another gate. This gate led to a narrow, gradually ascending passageway full of turns and angles. Gun holes and arrow slits pierced the white plaster walls of enclosed corridors that ran along the high stone walls. At regular intervals, larger square openings in the corridors allowed the defenders to dump stones on anyone who tried to climb the walls. Sano spied more guards behind the openings. The other visitors he saw all had their own military escorts. Only samurai wearing the Tokugawa crest walked proudly alone and armed. Sano soon lost count of the number of checkpoints and gates he passed. Tokugawa Ieyasu had built his fortress to withstand a siege, but were his descendants safe from treachery? Remembering the fanatical gleam in Lord Niu's eyes, Sano wondered. Perhaps the Conspiracy of Twenty-One planned to somehow ambush the shogun outside the castle walls, away from his legions of soldiers.

The final gate brought them at last to the castle's inner precinct. There bands of guards patrolled a formal garden landscaped with plane trees, pines, and boulders. A wide gravel path led to the palace.

Sano stopped involuntarily to take in this sight he'd never expected to see. The low, vast palace had white plaster walls with dark cypress beams, shutters, and doors. Its heavy dark tile roof peaked in many high and low gables, each crowned with a gilt dragon. Serene and elegant, it drowsed in an oasis of tranquillity, far removed from the teeming streets of Edo. Only the faint strains of music and the muffled report of firecrackers disturbed its peace:
Setsubun
celebrations were going on within its walls and courtyards, or in daimyo mansions elsewhere on the castle grounds. Sano thought of Lord Niu's speech. He reflected that the Niu and other daimyo clans had indeed purchased a fine home for the Tokugawas.

The guard interrupted Sano's thoughts. “Hurry up,” he ordered.

They crossed the garden and gained admittance from the guards at the palace's carved door. As he removed his shoes in the spacious, echoing entry hall, Sano marveled that he should visit the castle at all, let alone for such a purpose.

Inside the palace, a labyrinth of corridors unwound before Sano, angling their way through the outer portion of the building, which served as government offices. Sunlight from the barred windows fell in bright lines across polished cypress floors. Wide halls led past airy reception rooms with daises, coffered ceilings, and lavish landscape murals. The narrower ones were lined with small chambers. There a few doors stood open to reveal an official dictating to his secretary, or a meeting in session. Twice Sano's escort saluted pairs of patrolling guards; once they both bowed to an official in flowing robes. Otherwise the palace seemed virtually deserted. An unnatural quiet pervaded the great complex that must normally buzz with the sound of officialdom in motion. The creak of the floor beneath their feet echoed through the empty corridors. Other soft creaks came infrequently from deeper within the building. Already quivering inside with tension, Sano started at each one.