Sano Ichiro 12 The Snow Empress (2007)

by Laura Joh Rowland

  Sano was dismayed that he could have inspired Lord Matsumae’s bad behavior, even unwittingly. “Justice for whom?”

  Lord Matsumae dropped to his knees. He whispered, “Tekare.”

  Sano felt Deer Antlers and the other guards hold their breath, a signal that the conversation had entered dangerous territory. “Who is Tekare?” Sano asked.

  “She was my mistress.” Grief clenched Lord Matsumae’s face. His tears spilled. “My dearest, beloved mistress. She’s been dead almost three months now.”

  Glad that they seemed to be getting somewhere at last, Sano said, “What happened to her?”

  “She was—” Lord Matsumae gulped. Tremors shook his body.—murdered.“

  This, the loss of his woman, was the cause of his breakdown and the reason for everything that had followed. Love and grief had deranged him. Then he’d used his power to act out his madness and put himself in bad odor with the regime.

  “I’m sorry to hear that. My sincere condolences.” However, Sano couldn’t quite believe that mourning was all that ailed Lord Matsumae. He’d never seen it cause such a spectacular transformation of character. There must be more to Lord Matsumae’s troubles, although Sano couldn’t imagine what. Again he had the disorienting sense that things were different here, the people as well as their environment subject to strange phenomena. “But I don’t understand why you closed off Ezogashima. What was that supposed to accomplish?”

  “I want to know who killed my Tekare,” Lord Matsumae said. Sardonic humor glinted through his misery. “You may think you’re a great detective, Honorable Chamberlain, but I’ve spent twenty years ruling this domain, and I know something about police work. What do you do with a murder suspect?

  “You lock him up and interrogate him until he confesses. Well, I have a whole city of murder suspects, all the people who were in the area when Tekare died. I’ve locked them all up. I’ve been busy interrogating them. I don’t want anybody from the outside to come in and interfere. And I won’t stop until one of them confesses to killing Tekare.”

  Holding the domain hostage was a clever albeit extreme plan for a murder investigation, but it didn’t seem to have worked. “No one’s confessed?”

  Not yet. But somebody will. They can’t hold out much longer.“

  A cold, ominous sensation trickled through Sano as he remembered the fear in the townspeople’s faces. “What have you done besides interrogate them?”

  Lord Matsumae laughed. “Come now, Honorable Chamberlain. Certainly you’re aware of means of making people talk.”

  Torture, Sano thought; legal although not always effective. “I’m aware that they often produce false confessions.”

  “No matter.” Lord Matsumae’s hand flicked away the legions who must have suffered at it. “And no matter that some of the suspects couldn’t withstand my interrogation.”

  “How many died?” Sano said, all the more disturbed.

  Lord Matsumae’s expression turned deliberately vague, mockingly innocent. “Did I say anyone died? But if they did, then their example should encourage someone who knows the truth about the murder to inform on the culprit.”

  If Lord Matsumae didn’t kill everybody first. Sano’s ominous feeling turned to dread. “I sent some envoys to you a while ago. They never returned. What became of them?”

  The darkness inside Lord Matsumae emanated from him in almost visible waves. “Ask them. You’ll be seeing them soon.”

  Sano was horrified for another reason besides his certainty that Lord Matsumae had murdered them and intended to kill him, too. “Lord Matsudaira had my son kidnapped and brought here.” Lord Matsdaira couldn’t have known what the trouble in Ezogashima was; by sheer luck he’d sent Masahiro, and Sano, into peril beyond his wildest imagining. “What’s happened to him?”

  5

  The women’s quarters of Fukuyama Castle had winged eaves shading a railed veranda and wooden bars over the windows. A garden that might have been beautiful in summer was bleak with deep snow, bare trees, a frozen pond, and a deserted pavilion. The guard escorted Reiko inside, opened a sliding door, and thrust her into a room.

  “Here’s a visitor,” he announced to the people inside, then pointed a finger at Reiko. “You stay put. Or else.”

  After he left, Reiko looked at the five women who sat around a kotatsu—a frame with a table on top, a fire underneath, and a quilt spread over it and their legs. As she and the women exchanged bows, Reiko had an unsettling sense that she’d walked into any lady’s chamber back in Edo. They wore silk kimonos, white face powder, and red lip and cheek rouge, just like at home. Their eyes measured her from beneath shaved, painted-on brows. Chopsticks, tea and food in lacquer bowls, and porcelain spoons on the table completed the illusion. Welcome,“ the oldest woman said in a strangely flat, toneless voice. I am Lord Matsumae’s wife.” She was in her forties, her upswept hair streaked with gray. Her face was pretty, but dark shadows of fatigue showed through her makeup. Her features sagged in a misery so strong that it tugged down Reiko’s own spirits. “May I ask who you are?”

  As Reiko gave her name, she noticed things about the scene that were different from home. The floor wasn’t tatami but native woven mats, the same kind that insulated the walls. The women’s robes were lined with fur that showed at the collars and cuffs, and they wore gloves. Reiko had an even stranger sense of Japanese culture grafted unnaturally onto Ezogashima, like a peach growing from a thorn bush.

  “I’m the wife of Chamberlain Sano from Edo,” Reiko said.

  The other four women looked surprised, but Lady Matsumae’s sad, tired expression didn’t change. “Please join us.”

  Everyone shifted to make room at the kotatsu. Reiko sat beside the youngest woman—a girl in her teens, who had a round face, hair worn in a long braid, and thick, pursed lips. She helped Reiko cover her legs with the quilt. Lady Matsumae introduced her other three companions. They were her ladies-in-waiting, wives of her husband’s retainers, all in their thirties. They murmured polite greetings. They seemed so much alike that Reiko promptly forgot which was whom. Lady Matsumae didn’t introduce the girl, who was evidently a maid. Her flowered robe was cotton, not silk. She wore no makeup; her face was naturally pale with rosy lips and cheeks. She flashed bright, curious glances at Reiko.

  Lady Matsumae offered food and drink. Reiko politely refused twice, then let herself be persuaded. There’d been no time for breakfast before the soldiers came to the Ezo camp, and she was starved. She drank hot tea and ate rice gruel with pickled vegetables and bits of fish. It tasted wonderful.

  “What brings you here?” Lady Matsumae said as if she couldn’t have cared less.

  Her eyes seemed to look right through Reiko, who thought that if she waved her hand in front of them, they wouldn’t even shift. “My husband has business with yours. Also, we’ve come to fetch our son, Masahiro. He was kidnapped in Edo and sent here.” Reiko’s urgency heightened with the hope that rose in her. “Have you seen him?”

  “I’m afraid not.” Lady Matsumae spoke so promptly and indifferently that it was obvious she hadn’t bothered to think before answering.

  “He’s eight years old and tall for his age,” Reiko persisted. “Are you sure you don’t know where he is?”

  “I’m sure.”

  Reiko turned to the other women. “What about you?”

  The ladies-in-waiting murmured polite apologies. Their callous attitude chilled and mystified Reiko. The maid gave her a sympathetic look but shook her head.

  “He may be inside this castle,” Reiko said. If Masahiro and his escorts had reached Fukuyama City, they would have come here, wouldn’t they? Reiko tried not to remember that the troops had almost killed her and Sano at the Ezo settlement. She resisted the fear of what might have happened to Masahiro. “I need to look for him. Will you help me?”

  Lady Matsumae had been eating her gruel while Reiko talked. She sipped her tea before she said, “I’m sorry, but that’s not my business.”
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br />   She sounded less afraid of getting in trouble than too lethargic to lift a finger. The ladies shook their heads. The maid silently poured Reiko more tea.

  “I haven’t seen Masahiro in almost three months.” Reiko’s eyes filled with tears. “He’s such a good boy. He’s smart; he works hard at his studies. He’s going to be a good sword-fighter, too.” Reiko knew it was rude to brag about one’s own child, and she saw disapproval on the women’s faces, but she couldn’t stop herself. “I miss him so much. Please, won’t you help me find him?”

  The ladies-in-waiting looked at Lady Matsumae. A tremor crossed her face. It might have been from annoyance or stomach indigestion. She said, “That’s impossible.”

  “Why?” Reiko cried.

  Lady Matsumae sighed. “You ask too much.”

  Reiko couldn’t believe they could be so heartless. What’s wrong with you? she wanted to shout. Instead she said, “I know I’m a stranger. I know you don’t owe me anything.” Even worse, she sensed that someone in this room did know something about Masahiro. She could smell rain the air. But why this conspiracy of silence? Desperate, she appealed to whatever compassion they had. “Do you know what it’s like to lose a child? Do you have any children of your own?”

  Lady Matsumae jerked as though Reiko had stabbed her. Pain shattered her indifference. “How dare you—you shouldn’t—you have no idea—,” she stammered. An upheaval of anger broke through the flat surface of her eyes.

  Puzzled by her reaction, Reiko said, “I’m sorry. What did I say that disturbed you?”

  There was a creaking noise, as if weight on the floor had shifted someplace nearby but out of sight. Lady Matsumae seemed to forget about Reiko. The anger congealed on her face as she whispered, “What was that?”

  “Your son?” Lord Matsumae’s gaze turned cagy. The audience chamber went still, the air thick with tension, as he narrowed his eyes at Sano. “I don’t know anything about him.”

  “You’re lying!” Furious, Sano leaped to his feet, but Deer Antlers and another guard dragged him down.

  “I never saw him,” Lord Matsumae said, suddenly defensive. “He must not have gotten here.”

  “Tell me the truth!” Sano demanded as terror shot through him. Had Masahiro been killed while Sano searched for him? Had he been dead while Sano and Reiko were traveling north? “What have you done to my son?”

  He lunged at Lord Matsumae. Two guards seized him as Lord Matsumae jumped backward, avoiding his clutching hands. Rage and grief stained Sano’s vision so dark that he could hardly see. He lashed out blindly.

  “Stop!” ordered Lord Matsumae.

  Hirata, Marume, and Fukida jumped the guards who held Sano. Deer Antlers and the other guards hurried to restrain them. Sano hit, kicked, and cursed at anyone who came near him. Hirata attacked the guards, who shrieked in pain from his strikes, flew through the air, and crashed bleeding and motionless. The Rat cowered fearfully in a corner. Lord Matsumae backed against the wall behind the dais as Sano went charging at him.

  “Help!” he shouted.

  Sano fell upon Lord Matsumae and seized him by the throat. “Where’s my son? What have you done to him?”

  Lord Matsumae gurgled and coughed while Sano choked him. His hands clawed at Sano’s. Soldiers exploded into the chamber. They pulled Sano off their master. Three wrestled Sano to the floor. So many more pinned down Hirata that he barely showed under them. Others held Marume and Fukida. Around the room lay the broken, dead bodies of eight guards that Sano and his men had killed with their bare hands.

  Sano panted, exhausted and bathed in sweat. The hot red tide of temper receded, stranding him in cold despair. His son must surely be gone forever. At this moment Sano didn’t care what happened to himself.

  “Take them outside,” Lord Matsumae told his men. “Execute them all.”

  “My pleasure.” Deer Antlers glared at Sano. His mouth was swollen and bloody. He told his friends, “Get the chamberlain’s wife. She dies, too.”

  The thought of Reiko aroused Sano’s survival instinct. Self-discipline returned. He had to act despite the terrible temptation to give up.

  “Go ahead and kill us, Lord Matsumae,” he called over his shoulder as the guards hauled him and his men away. “But don’t think you can get away with it.”

  Hirata and the others resisted fiercely. Sano saved his strength to push words out past the weight of misery on his heart. “If you know so much about me, then you know I’ve got an army back in Edo. When I don’t come home, they’ll come looking for me. And there’ll be too many of them for your army to hold off. They’ll kill you and your entire clan to avenge my death. So unless that’s what you want, we’d better talk.”

  He was almost out the door when Lord Matsumae said, “Wait. Bring them back.”

  Muttering curses, the guards hurled Sano and his comrades onto the floor in front of the dais.

  Talk about what?“ Lord Matsumae was apparently not so insane that he’d lost his entire sense of self-preservation.

  “You made some mistakes,” Sano said, “but it’s not too late to undo the damage.”

  Lord Matsumae crooked his neck. He again reminded Sano of a crow, this time uncertain whether to fly for cover or peck out his adversary’s eyes. “I’m in so much trouble that I don’t see any way out except to get rid of you and your people.”

  Sano nodded. Lord Matsumae realized that having witnesses to this situation would only make things worse for him with Lord Matsudaira and the shogun. He couldn’t hide from their wrath forever. They would wipe his clan off the map. He couldn’t afford to let Sano live, even if killing him would mean retaliation from Sano’s army.

  Improvising for dear life, Sano said, “There’s a way around every problem.”

  “Such as what?”

  “I propose a deal,” Sano said.

  Eyeing Sano with a mixture of hope and suspicion, Lord Matsumae said, “What kind?”

  “I’ll find out who killed Tekare for you,” Sano said.

  “Can you?” Distracted from his predicament, Lord Matsumae leaned forward and clasped his hands. He practically salivated with his hunger for truth and vengeance.

  “Yes,” Sano said, even though he didn’t think much of his chances of success investigating a murder that was already three months past, in unfamiliar territory.

  Doubt crept into Lord Matsumae’s expression. “What do you ask in return?”

  “That you let me, and everyone in my party, go free. That you stop breaking rules and killing people, and you bring things back to normal in Ezogashima.”

  “No.” Lord Matsumae was obstinate. “Even if I do that, I’ll still be in trouble for what I’ve done. You have to save me.”

  “I will,” Sano said. “I’ll talk to the shogun and Lord Matsudaira. I’ll convince them to excuse you.”

  Sano had no idea whether he could, but he would promise the Nihonbashi Bridge and jump off it when he came to it. As Lord Matsumae vacillated, Sano said, “Well? Do we have a bargain?”

  He hadn’t brought his son into the negotiation even though Masahiro was more important than his own life. Sano didn’t want to ask about the boy again and hear Lord Matsumae admit he’d killed Masahiro. He didn’t want to believe it. Sano meant to look for Masahiro while investigating the murder, and find him alive. He refused to consider any other outcome.

  “I don’t know.” Lord Matsumae’s gaze skittered between suspicion of trickery, desire for justice for his mistress, and fear of punishment.

  Sano saw that logic had inadequate sway over his madness. Impulses to wreak more havoc and violence were stronger. They seemed native to Ezogashima. Sano waited with an anxiety that he could barely conceal. He felt Hirata and his other men willing the balance to tip in their favor.

  “I’ll think about it,” Lord Matsumae said at last. He told the guards, “In the meantime, take the Honorable Chamberlain and his people to the guest quarters. Lock them in.”

  Reiko watched Lady Matsumae t
iptoe across the room and fling open a sliding door hidden by woven mats. On the other side stood five women of such bizarre appearance that Reiko couldn’t hide her shock.

  They were as tall as men, clothed in brown, coarsely woven robes with geometric designs embroidered on the hems, sleeve edges, and collar bands. They wore fur leggings and slippers. Their black hair was long, loose, and wavy. Reiko realized they were Ezo women. Strands of blue beads and brass medallions hung around their necks. Gold hoops pierced their ears. But most startling were their tattoos, which looked like blue mustaches painted around their mouths.

  She barely had time to wonder what they were doing in the castle, where Ezo supposedly weren’t allowed. Lady Matsumae shouted at them, “Were you eavesdropping? How dare you?”

  She marched up to a woman who seemed younger than the rest, her features pretty in spite of the disfiguring tattoo. Lady Matsumae spat in the woman’s face. “Whore! Animal! Filthy barbarian!”

  Her fists swatted the young woman’s stomach and breasts. The woman raised her hands to protect herself, but although she looked strong enough to knock Lady Matsumae down, she didn’t fight back. She uttered muffled noises of pain while she took her beating. Nor did the four other Ezo women defend her. They looked on, unhappy but silent. The ladies-in-waiting sipped their tea as if their mistress’s behavior were nothing out of the ordinary. But Reiko was too appalled to stand by and watch.

  “Stop!” She hurried over to Lady Matsumae and pulled her away from the Ezo woman.

  Lady Matsumae shrieked, “Let go of me!”

  She turned on Reiko like a wildcat. She kicked Reiko, clawed at her. The Ezo women huddled together, hands over their mouths. So did the ladies-in-waiting. The maid ran out of the room. Reiko grabbed Lady Matsumae by her wrists. She said to the Ezo women, “You’d better go.”

  They fled. Lady Matsumae screamed and fought while Reiko struggled to control her. The maid hurried back with two guards, who dragged Reiko and Lady Matsumae apart.

  “Why were you so mean to her?” Reiko asked Lady Matsumae. “What’s your trouble?”

  Lady Matsumae’s eyes were red and crazed, her hair disheveled. “None of your business,” she said in a voice harsh with rage. “Don’t interfere with things you don’t understand.”