Red Chrysanthemum

by Laura Joh Rowland

  “You’re all alone now,” Sano said as they retreated, lunged, and slashed again and again. “You might as well surrender.”

  “I could say the same for you.” Hoshina grinned.

  He loosed a barrage of swipes that Sano barely dodged. A prickling sensation crept through Sano’s calves. While he struck at Hoshina, he said, “When’s the last time you won a battle?”

  “This time,” Hoshina said, parrying.

  “That’s wishful thinking.” When Hoshina counterattacked, Sano crouched, narrowly evading a cut to the head. He lurched around Hoshina. “When’s the last time you even fought anybody?”

  Hoshina whirled with an ease Sano envied. “In practice at Edo Castle yesterday.” But he sounded irritated because they both knew that although he’d once been a police officer who’d fought criminals in the streets, he was an idle bureaucrat now.

  “Practice is no substitute for a life-or-death fight like this,” Sano said.

  “Well, it’s better than nothing,” Hoshina flared. “Sure, you defeated the Ghost, but that was three years ago. Since then you’ve spent more time using a writing brush than a sword!”

  He hacked with swift fury at Sano, driving him backward. Blood flushed through the veins in Sano’s legs. Agonizing spasms gripped his muscles. He winced as he ducked and parried. The pit was behind him. Teetering on the edge, he flung out his arms to keep his balance. Hoshina aimed a savage cut at his stomach. As Sano jerked backward, his legs gave out. He fell into the pit.

  Thick, slimy, foul water splashed up around him. He sank beneath its bubbling surface. The lye burned his eyes before he could close them. Nauseated by the liquid stench that filled his nostrils, he gurgled. The putrid taste penetrated his lips even though he clamped them shut. The pit was deeper than he’d thought. While he flailed, trying to stand up, he almost let go of his sword. His head cleared the water just long enough for him to gulp air before his feet slipped on the muddy bottom and he went down again. Chunks of submerged, decayed meat floated against him.

  He heard Hoshina laughing through the water that churned in his ears. Managing to raise himself, he retched, spat, and shook slime off his face. Every particle of him felt contaminated by the taint of death. His eyes sore and bleary from the lye, he saw Hoshina standing beside the pit.

  “If you could see yourself!” Hoshina sobbed with uproarious laughter. “This is priceless!”

  Sano waded toward the edge of the pit. As the spasms cramped his legs, he tottered. Hoshina slashed at him. Leaping away, Sano lost his footing. He swiped at Hoshina and almost fell. He tried to get past Hoshina and climb out of the water, but Hoshina ran alongside the pit faster than Sano could trudge within it.

  “I’ve got you now!” Hoshina said as he sliced at Sano.

  Fury begot cunning. Sano splashed armfuls of water at Hoshina.

  “Hey!” Offended, Hoshina sprang back from the pit to avoid contamination.

  Sano scrambled up its side. But he skidded on the muddy slime, all the way under the water again. Hoshina struck at him. The blade grazed his scalp. As he burst up for air, Hoshina’s blade came swinging at his face. He gasped a deep breath and sank just in time. He crouched on the bottom, eyes shut, doubled over with his arms protecting his head, holding his breath.

  Hoshina’s sword stabbed down at him so fast that it seemed like a thousand blades impaling the murk above Sano, carving the soup of rotten flesh and lye. The sharp point impinged on Sano’s back, his shoulders. He forced himself not to move.

  When he didn’t come up, the stabbing ceased.

  In the watery stillness and quiet, Sano sensed Hoshina examining his blade and wondering if the blood on it meant Sano was dead. Sano couldn’t hold his breath much longer. His heart pounded; his lungs demanded that he inhale. The lye burned into his wounds. He tried to gauge exactly where Hoshina was standing. Just when he thought he must come up for air or drown, Sano felt Hoshina bend over the pit to look for him.

  Sano erupted out of the pit, his sword raised. Through the viscous water that streamed off his face he saw the blurry image of Hoshina in front of him. Sano swung his sword at it with all his might.

  Hoshina screamed.

  He lifted his sword, too late. He took Sano’s strike clean across his neck.

  Sano felt his blade slice through flesh, muscle, bone. A huge red fountain of warm blood sprayed him. Hoshina’s severed head splashed into the pit, an instant before his body toppled onto Sano.

  31

  The seventh month of the year brought clear, hot weather to Edo. The rainy season had finally let up. Reiko sat in her sunny private chambers with Midori, while in the adjacent room Masahiro had a reading lesson with his tutor. Little Taeko peered over his shoulder at his book as he read aloud. Midori helped Reiko remove the bandage on her belly. Underneath was a jagged, healing red cut.

  “It looks better,” Midori said. “There’s no festering. You were very lucky.”

  “Yes, I was.” Reiko’s heart still seized whenever she thought about that terrible moment when Ukon had tried to stab her. On each of the nine days that had passed since the attack, she’d burned incense and offered prayers of thanks to the gods that the scissors hadn’t penetrated deeper.

  The baby kicked. Bulges appeared on her stomach. Midori smiled. “I see that Masahiro’s little brother or sister is as strong and healthy as ever.

  “After all we’ve been through together, it’s a miracle.” Yet Reiko couldn’t help wondering how the violence and evil would affect her child.

  Midori applied herbal ointment to the scar. “It’s wonderful that you’ve been exonerated.”

  The high drama at the trial had kept the Edo gossip mill busy ever since. When Reiko and her escorts had taken Lady Mori and Ukon to the castle, Ukon had gone stark raving mad along the way. They’d had to tie her hands and lead her like a wild beast behind the palanquins that carried Reiko and Lady Mori. She’d wailed, sobbed, and cursed all the way to palace, where the shogun and Lord Matsudaira had already convened.

  Everyone had waited almost an hour for Police Commissioner Hoshina. When the trial began without him, Ukon had been too incoherent to testify. The story of Lord Mori’s murder had been told by Lady Mori. The shogun and Lord Matsudaira had believed her. Since Hoshina wasn’t there to dissuade them, Lord Matsudaira had recommended that Reiko be pronounced innocent and Lady Mori and Ukon sentenced to death. The shogun had obliged.

  “Those terrible women have been punished,” Midori said now, “and good riddance to them.”

  Lady Mori had gone meekly to the execution ground, but Ukon had resisted to the end. She’d torn off her clothes, beaten her head on the floor, kicked and bitten the soldiers as they dragged her from the room. The shogun had said, “Well, ahh, that’s the most shocking thing I’ve ever seen.”

  No sooner did he speak, than Sano and Hirata arrived.

  “What took you so long?” Lord Matsudaira asked. “You not only missed your wife’s trial; you almost missed your own.”

  Sano looked at Reiko. He read in her face that she’d been acquitted; relief and love flashed between them before he turned to Lord Matsudaira. “My apologies, but I had important business to attend to.”

  Everyone including Reiko listened with new, dumbfounded shock as Sano told about Lily’s murder by Captain Torai, his kidnapping by Police Commissioner Hoshina, and the battle at the rendering factory. “Hoshina and Torai lost,” Sano said. “They’re both dead.”

  In the silence that followed, Lord Matsudaira narrowed his eyes, calculating what this news meant for him. Then the shogun said, “Ahh, that’s too bad. But I never really liked them anyway.”

  Reiko couldn’t believe the shogun’s callousness. Sano seemed glad the shogun didn’t take him to task for killing two high officials. He said, “Now, about the treason charges against me. I swear I’m innocent. Does anyone have any evidence to the contrary?”

  No one did, now that Hoshina was gone.

  “I recomme
nd that we drop the charges against Chamberlain Sano and let him keep his post,” said Lord Matsudaira.

  “Done,” the shogun said.

  Now, as Reiko put on a fresh bandage, she said, “If not for Hirata-san, I would be a widow.” Sano had told her the details of the battle. “I owe him a great debt for saving my husband’s life.”

  “He did no more than his duty,” Midori said, but she looked radiantly proud of Hirata.

  “I haven’t seen him since the trial,” Reiko said. “Where is he?”

  “I don’t know.” Midori sighed. “He left this morning. He didn’t say when he’ll be back.”

  Sano had also left this morning, for some unnamed destination and one of many secret meetings since the trial. As Reiko wondered what was going on, she dressed for a trip.

  “You’re not going out on more private inquiry business, are you?” Midori said disapprovingly. “Remember what happened last time.”

  “This is something I have to do,” Reiko said. “I must fulfill my obligation to the dead.”

  The establishment known as Blow-Dart Beach wasn’t located on a beach, but in the theater district. Nor did it offer the popular game in which players blew darts through wooden pipes at targets. It was an elegant two-story house, separated from the teahouses, shops, and actors’ dwellings around it by a fenced garden. Reiko, Lieutenant Asukai, and her other bodyguards walked up to the gate. Asukai rang the bell.

  A manservant answered. He frowned at Reiko and said, “No women allowed.”

  “Make an exception for this one,” Asukai said.

  He strode through the gate, elbowing the servant aside. The bodyguards ushered Reiko after him. They passed through the front garden, an entry way, and a corridor that led to a private world. Here, plum trees shaded a party of men and boys. They lounged on cushions on the grass and in a wide, round, sunken bathtub filled with water. The men wore dressing gowns, loincloths, or nothing. The boys, who ranged in age from perhaps five years to fourteen, were clad in gaudy, feminine kimonos. Servants wandered among them, passing drinks, food, and tobacco. A band of musicians, dressed as women but obviously male, played the flute, samisen, and drum. In this world, the blow-pipe was a man’s penis, the dart his seed, and the target a young boy who aroused him for a price.

  Music and conversation ceased. Everyone stared at Reiko. She felt grossly out of place here, in one of Edo’s best-known male brothels, but she spoke up bravely: “I’m looking for a boy named Jiro. Is he here?”

  There was no answer, only silent disapproval.

  For nine days, ever since Sano had proved that Lily had existed, Reiko had been searching for the dancer’s son. She’d pursued the slim chance that he was one of the boys that Lord Mori hadn’t killed during sex. She’d sent Lieutenant Asukai to investigate Lord Mori’s circle of friends. One had admitted that Lord Mori had passed a boy on to him. He was low on cash because of gambling debts, and instead of sending the boy home when he was done with him, he’d sold him to Blow-Dart Beach.

  Now Asukai put his hand on his sword and said to the customers, “Speak up, unless you want trouble.”

  There was a stir in the corner. Someone pushed a boy at Reiko. In spite of his feminine clothes and the rouge on his lips and cheeks—or perhaps because of them—Reiko could see Lily in him. She smiled with relief and gladness.

  “I’m Lady Reiko,” she said. “Your mother sent me.”

  His round, solemn eyes beheld her with distrust. “My mother doesn’t want me. That’s why I’m here.”

  Reiko saw, to her dismay, that Jiro had been damaged and hardened by months in the sex trade. “That’s not true.” She realized that she had much explaining to do. “But we’ll talk about it later. Come with me.”

  She held out her hand. Jiro hesitated a moment, shrugged, and took it. She could tell that he’d only obeyed because going off with a stranger was better than staying where he was.

  “Hey, he’s my property,” objected a man who looked to be the brothel owner.

  “Shut up and just be glad I don’t kill you,” Lieutenant Asukai said.

  As he escorted Reiko and Jiro from the brothel, Reiko dreaded telling the boy that his mother was dead. Maybe Jiro would take heart from the fact that Lily had had the courage to try to get him back from the man she’d rented him to in a desperate bid for their survival. Reiko only hoped that a kind home with her would make up for his suffering. But at least she’d rescued Jiro as she’d promised Lily she would.

  The landscape in the eastern hills outside Edo resembled a classic painting by an ancient court artist. The distant city below was a glare of sunlight hazed by smoke from fires that had resumed full force now that there was no rain to discourage them. But high altitude cooled the forest. Refreshing breezes blew on Sano, General Isogai, and elders Ohgami and Uemori as they reposed inside a rustic pavilion built on a hilltop.

  “Thank you for doing me the honor of visiting my summer estate, Honorable Chamberlain. It’s nice to get away from the heat, isn’t it?” Ohgami said, fanning himself.

  “Yes.” But Sano wasn’t deceived by the pretense that this was a mere holiday jaunt. “May I ask what you want to say that can’t be said in town?”

  Disapproving glances passed between the elders. Uemori puffed on his pipe, coughed, and said, “You haven’t changed in spite of your recent experiences. You still have a tendency toward directness.”

  “That’s a point in his favor, as far as I’m concerned.” General Isogai grinned at Sano. “Congratulations on getting out of that mess. Thought you were done for this time.”

  “I’m glad you’re in favor with Lord Matsudaira again,” Ohgami added.

  “You should have had more faith in me.” Sano spoke lightly, but his tone was edged with rebuke toward the men and his other allies for deserting him in his hour of need. They’d lined up in hordes outside his mansion to pay their respects, bring lavish gifts to appease him, and eat their pride. He’d forgiven them instead of punishing them. “I hope that next time you’ll know which side to bet on. Because if you lose, the winner might not be so generous.”

  “Generosity, nothing,” General Isogai snapped. “We have mutual interests.”

  “Indeed we do,” Sano agreed mildly. He couldn’t dispute that they needed one another. “None of us can stand alone.”

  “From bad comes good,” Uemori said. “Getting rid of Hoshina made all your trouble worthwhile.”

  “With him gone, his faction has dissolved into handfuls of squabbling malcontents,” Ohgami said. “None of them are strong enough to stand between you and Lord Matsudaira.”

  “That’s what really saved you,” Uemori reminded Sano. “Without Hoshina to set him against you, Lord Matsudaira is willing to accept that Lord Mori was a traitor and you aren’t.”

  “Even though you never really proved it,” Ohgami said, referring to the fact that Sano hadn’t had any more solid evidence at the end of his investigation than at the beginning. “The medium’s confession doesn’t count. You could have forced her to admit that she faked that seance.”

  Hence, it was still Sano’s word against his enemies‘. Sano knew there were many people, including these three, who weren’t sure he wasn’t guilty. But nobody dared make an issue of that.

  “Do you think Lord Matsudaira actually believes Chamberlain Sano is innocent?” Uemori asked Ohgami and General Isogai.

  General Isogai shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. That has to be his official position.”

  Because Sano was stronger than ever, with little to check him now that Hoshina’s faction was dissolved, many of Hoshina’s old cronies had rushed to jump on Sano’s ship. Sano was the biggest man in Japan next to Lord Matsudaira. Everyone had better think carefully before they accused him of anything again. At first Sano had been angry that a taint of suspicion still hovered around him, but he couldn’t complain; it beat death by compulsory ritual suicide.

  “Things are better for you than they were before Lord Mori’s murder,”
Ohgami said.

  “That’s old news,” Sano said blandly. “Forgive my impatience, but will you please get to the point?”

  The elders looked toward General Isogai. General Isogai looked around to make sure there was nobody else within earshot, then said to Sano, “Don’t get too complacent. Lord Matsudaira is still dangerous to you.”

  “Do you think I don’t know that?” Sano said, aware that he was a bigger target and his position more precarious than ever.