Sano Ichiro 11 Red Chrysanthemum (2006)

by Laura Joh Rowland

  People scattered. Hirata whirled amid flashing sword arcs, glided behind his opponents and their ghosts, until the last two soldiers turned and ran for their lives.

  “Cowards!” Torai shouted after them. “But who needs you?” Panting and sweating, he faced Hirata, his expression crazed with his determination to fight until he won. The best swordsman of his gang, he’d managed to avoid Hirata’s precise, deadly strikes; there wasn’t a scratch on him. Maybe he had a touch of mystical power. “I can take you by myself.”

  Hirata felt his strength flagging. Not even the mystical power mat pulsed in him could burn away the poisons that fatigue spread through his blood. His bad leg ached. As he and Torai warily circled each other, he realized that such a huge expenditure of energy couldn’t go on forever. He sensed an equally huge tidal wave of exhaustion rushing toward him. He had to win this battle in the next few moments before it hit.

  When Torai lunged, Hirata could barely see his ghost; he dodged barely soon enough to miss a fatal gash to the neck. Now, as they fought, Torai began to match Hirata’s expertise. Now Hirata noticed the disadvantage he was at because Torai’s sword was twice as long as his knife. Hirata parried every strike but landed none. Torai’s ghost faded. The extra dimension vanished. Torai gained strength as Hirata lost it. Torai’s blade cut his shoulder. Hirata felt pain sting and warm blood flow. Torai laughed.

  “Now I’ve got you!” He moved in closer, lunging and slashing more fiercely as his confidence grew.

  Hirata began to limp, a bad sign. He recalled the last lesson Ozuno tried to teach him. While frantically plying his knife with his right hand, he raised his left and swept it away from his body. Torai’s gaze involuntarily followed it. Distracted, he paused just long enough for Hirata to launch a cut at his head. Torai regained concentration in time to parry, but Hirata’s strike knocked him off balance. He stumbled. Hirata lashed out again, but the wave of exhaustion loomed closer. His cut missed Torai by a full hand’s breadth. Torai recovered and came charging after him. The knife was heavy in Hirata’s grasp. His whole body felt weighted down. He raised his left hand and moved it around, aiming bursts of energy toward different points on Torai’s body.

  Torai flinched as if hit on his chest, legs, and shoulders. His eyes skittered, trying to see what ailed him. He swung his sword wildly, the blade coming nowhere near Hirata. His face took on a look of terror because Hirata had seized control of his mind. The no-hit technique reduced him to a mass of twitches. He and Hirata were partners in a strange dance in which Hirata’s hand commanded every spastic move Torai made. Torai’s next swing carried his whole body with its momentum. He went reeling past Hirata, who backhanded the knife across his side. Torai shrieked.

  Blood gushed from his wound. He crumpled onto the filthy street, moaned, and thrashed once. The savage light went out of his eyes as he glared up at Hirata.

  The wave of exhaustion broke upon Hirata with overpowering force. Bones and muscles turned to sludge. His racing heartbeat slowed as his body demanded rest. The knife fell from his hand; his eyes closed; his knees folded. Slumber as deep as death claimed him before he collapsed on the ground beside Torai, his partner in combat, who’d joined forces with him to achieve this victory.

  His last thought was that he could no longer help Sano.

  30

  “It was her idea,” Lady Mori said, pointing at Ukon.

  “No, it was hers,” Ukon said.

  They were both to blame, but Reiko wanted to know who the ringleader was. She suspected it was Ukon, and she wondered why Ukon didn’t rush to claim the credit for their plan, especially since she’d already owned up to carrying it out.

  Ukon said to Lady Mori, “Don’t you remember that you said to me, ”Wouldn’t it be nice if my husband and Lady Reiko both died?“ ”

  “Yes… but I was just talking.” Lady Mori wrinkled her forehead. “I don’t think I really meant it.”

  “Of course you did.”

  Reiko was surprised that maybe the gentle, meek Lady Mori had instigated the whole thing.

  “But you were the one who said, ”Lord Mori and Lady Reiko are too healthy and strong to die anytime soon. We need to make it happen,“ ” Lady Mori said.

  “Well, you said, ”We could sneak into Lord Mori’s chamber some night and stab him,“” Ukon retorted. “‘And next time Lady Reiko comes over, we could kill her, too.” “

  Lady Mori shot back, “You said you didn’t just want Lady Reiko dead. First you wanted her to be disgraced and punished for something she didn’t do, just like your son.”

  “Well, you said why not get rid of them both at the same time and be done with it all at once?”

  “That was you! You were the one who thought of killing him and making it look like she did it.”

  “Well, maybe it was. But you egged me on.”

  Peeved and resentful, Lady Mori said, “Ha! As if you needed any encouragement.”

  Reiko doubted she’d ever get to the bottom of this, and it didn’t matter. She had more important things to think about. She heard fighting and yelling outside: Lord Mori’s troops were still battling Sano’s. She whispered to Lieutenant Asukai, “How are we going to get these two out of the estate?”

  “Well, it would have worked if you’d kept your big mouth shut,” Ukon said angrily.

  “My mouth is no bigger than yours,” Lady Mori flared. “You’re the one who spilled the whole story because you wanted to brag to Lady Reiko about what you did to her.”

  “I only talked after you said enough to get us killed, you stupid fool!”

  Lady Mori puffed herself up with indignation. “You rude, dirty peasant! Don’t you dare talk to me like that. I’ll—” She abruptly fell silent. Her anger transformed into dismay as she gazed past Reiko.

  Reiko turned and saw a young man standing in the doorway. His handsome face wore an expression of total shock. Ignoring the other people in the room, he stared at Lady Mori.

  “Enju,” she said in a faint voice. Her hand clasped her throat. “How long have you been there?”

  “Long enough to hear everything.” He shook his head, as if trying to deny what he’d heard. “Mother, is it true?”

  Lady Mori cringed from the horror in his voice. Tears of shame filled her eyes. “I never wanted you to find out.”

  “You killed Father.” Enju looked stricken, dumbfounded.

  “I couldn’t bear the thought of you knowing that his blood is on my hands.” Lady Mori reached them toward Enju. “I did it to punish him for what he did to you. Because I couldn’t protect you then. Will you forgive me?”

  Enju hastened to her, knelt, and took her hands in his. “Oh, Mother.” His voice was thick with emotion.

  Lady Mori embraced him, pressing her cheek against his head. Reiko was moved in spite of herself. She understood the all-importance of a mother’s debt to her child. Lady Mori had had the right intentions. If only her means had been different.

  Running footsteps accompanied voices shouting outside. Lieutenant Asukai opened the exterior door. A horde of soldiers wearing Sano’s crest overran the garden. Asukai called to them: “Hey! What’s going on?”

  “We’ve subdued the Mori troops and occupied this place,” the commander said.

  Relief provoked a deep sigh from Reiko. Lieutenant Asukai said, “Good. We need an escort back to Edo Castle.”

  “Will do,” said the commander.

  Just in time for Reiko to bring the two murderesses to testify at her trial and exonerate her. “Lady Mori and Ukon, you’ll have to come with us,” she said.

  Enju turned to Reiko and said, “No,” obviously upset because his mother would pay with her own life for what she’d done. His grip tightened on Lady Mori’s hands. “I won’t let you take her.”

  Lady Mori withdrew her hands and spoke with sad resignation: “It’s all right, Enju. I’m willing to accept my punishment.”

  “Mother, no!”

  As she rose, he clutched at her skirts li
ke a child. She stroked his face, smiled tenderly down at him. “He’s gone. I can die in peace, knowing that I did right by you at last.”

  Enju released her. His posture slumped; he began to weep in ragged, painful sobs. Reiko pitied both son and mother from the depth of her spirit because she couldn’t help imagining herself defending Masahiro and him torn from her as she went to answer for shedding blood on his behalf. She could almost forgive Lady Mori.

  Lady Mori glided toward Reiko, Lieutenant Asukai, and two soldiers who’d entered the room. She said with quiet dignity, “I am ready to go.”

  “Well, I’m not,” Ukon declared. She looked stricken, as if she’d just absorbed the fact that she’d confessed to a crime and her life was in jeopardy. She also looked utterly offended. When the soldiers moved toward her, she flung up her hands and said, “Don’t you touch me.”

  “It’s over, Ukon. Give up,” Reiko said.

  “But it can’t be over,” Ukon said, shaking her head in frantic disbelief. “After I’ve planned and hoped for so long, after how hard I’ve worked…” Sorrow crazed her eyes; her voice rose to a wail. “You weren’t supposed to win!”

  She took a step toward Reiko. Reiko backed away, as much shaken as revolted by Ukon’s passion. She couldn’t help sympathizing with the woman’s desire for revenge, even though she herself was the target. Blood vendetta was a time-honored part of the samurai code of honor that Reiko embraced. Ukon’s intentions, however misguided, were as true as Lady Mori’s. Could Reiko have reacted with any less fury had anyone harmed Masahiro?

  But these justifications didn’t excuse Ukon’s crime. Reiko said, “You took a gamble, and you lost. Now you have to take the consequences. You might as well come peacefully.”

  Ukon clawed at her hair. “I won’t! It’s not fair that you should get my son killed and then get out of the trap I set for you.” She sprawled her wild gaze over the people in the room. Lady Mori watched her with distaste, Enju with leery fascination. “If I’m put to death, Lady Reiko will go free to hurt other people. It’s not fair!” She tore at her bodice, leaving bloody scratches on her chest.

  “Accept your fate,” Lady Mori told her. “Have some dignity for once in your miserable life.”

  Reiko said to Lieutenant Asukai, “We don’t have much time before the trial. Arrest her.”

  He and the soldiers took hold of Ukon’s arms. “Leave me alone!” she cried.

  With a strength unexpected from a woman her age, she wrenched free of the men. She launched herself toward the door. Lieutenant Asukai sped after her. He caught the end of her sash. She fell on her knees. As he dragged her like a dog on a rope and the soldiers rushed to help him, she struggled, her hands scrabbling at the floor, Lady Mori’s embroidery, the tray of colored threads. “Let me go!”

  She twisted her body and lunged up toward the men like a snake striking. Clutched in her hand were the scissors, which were small and dainty yet sharp and made of steel.

  “Look out!” Reiko cried.

  Ukon stabbed at the soldiers. Her scissors gouged one in his eye. He howled, his hand clasped over the wound. His comrade swore and drew his sword on Ukon as she slashed at him and Lieutenant Asukai.

  “No!” Reiko exclaimed. “I need her alive!”

  “It’s not fair that I should lose my dream of revenge on you,” Ukon raged at Reiko. She ran around the room, evading Lieutenant Asukai and the soldier who chased her. “That’s all I have left in the world!”

  The soldier caught her arm. As he wrestled her, she plunged the scissors into his thigh. He yelled and let her go. Lieutenant Asukai circled Ukon, flinching every time she thrust the scissors at him. He lunged at her, but she sidestepped him and charged toward Reiko.

  “I should have killed you that night we killed Lord Mori!” she shouted.

  Reiko pushed up her sleeve and grabbed the dagger strapped to her arm. This should have taken her no longer than a heartbeat, but pregnancy had slowed her reflexes. Because she hadn’t practiced martial arts in months, her movements were clumsy, her whole body slack. Before she could unsheathe the dagger, Ukon struck at her. Reiko dodged, but not soon enough. The blades cut her shoulder.

  Pain ripped a cry from her. The heaviness of her belly slung her off balance. She fell sideways. As she hit the floor, Ukon was on her. Ukon’s fist plunged, the scissors pointed toward Reiko’s eye. Reiko snatched for them. The blades pierced her palm. Ukon stabbed again and again. Reiko beat frantically at Ukon, who shouted, “I’m going to kill you now, if it’s the last thing I ever do!”

  Lieutenant Asukai hauled her off Reiko. But Ukon writhed in a fit of flailing arms and legs. She threw him against a wall and hurled herself upon Reiko again. More stabs gashed Reiko’s arms as she flung them up to protect her face. Ukon’s weight immobilized her, crushed her swollen middle.

  “It’s not fair that you’re with child when I can never have another,” Ukon shrieked. Spittle flew from her mouth. Her face was so distorted by rage that she looked demonic. “I hate you! I hate you! Die!”

  She aimed the scissors in a brutal thrust at Reiko’s stomach, at the child inside. Panic invaded Reiko. She grabbed Ukon’s wrist in both her hands. The scissors points jabbed her belly as Ukon tried to drive them home. Her free hand clawed at Reiko’s. As they thrashed, vying for control of the weapon, Reiko fought with a determination she’d never before known, the ferocity of a mother wolf protecting her young. But Ukon was a mother gone insane because she’d lost hers. While pregnancy weakened Reiko’s power, madness fed Ukon’s. She howled and raked the scissors in a zigzag down Reiko’s belly.

  Reiko screamed in horror as they cut her skin. Consumed by the most ferocious rage she’d ever felt, she heaved Ukon off her. Ukon reeled, stumbled, and landed on her back. Reiko whipped out her dagger and flew at Ukon, shrieking in agony. She slashed with all her might at Ukon’s grinning face.

  Lieutenant Asukai caught Reiko before she could kill the woman. The two wounded soldiers seized Ukon. This time she didn’t resist. She dropped the scissors, which were stained with Reiko’s blood. Panting and wheezing, she laughed hysterically.

  Lieutenant Asukai took the dagger from Reiko and eased her to the floor. “Are you all right?”

  “No, oh, no!” Sobs of terror convulsed Reiko as she gazed down at her belly and the crimson stain spreading across her robes.

  “A child for a child!” Ukon crowed as the soldiers led her and Lady Mori out of the room and Enju hurried after them. “We’re even at last!”

  Inside the rendering factory, Sano and Hoshina lunged and slashed at each other. Both Sano’s legs were asleep, his circulation cut off by the ropes that had immobilized him too long. They felt numb as chunks of wood. Although he tried not to stagger and show his weakness, they could barely hold him up. A million thanks to Hirata for slaying most of their enemies and drawing the others away; his mystic martial arts training had paid off when it mattered most. But now Hoshina had the advantage. Sano had to seize it from him or die.

  “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.