“Egen and Doi and I killed Tadatoshi,” she said. “We were all responsible, but I was the most.”
Reiko had known the gist of the story, albeit not the details, Sano thought. He should have listened to his wife.
Now he knew why the real tutor had skipped town, and why Colonel Doi was bitter toward Etsuko after all these years. Sano had been right about Doi having a hand in the murder. Perhaps Doi’s guilt had motivated his heroism during the relief efforts after the fire. Sano also knew he could never prove his mother’s innocence, for she was as guilty as he’d ever feared. Her hands that had nursed him during his childhood had once taken a life in cold blood. But he felt sick and shaken for a reason even more personal.
His earlier discoveries had contradicted facts he’d taken for granted about his family background, but his mother had just demolished the foundations of his self. He wasn’t only the son of a poor but upstanding rōnin; he was the son of a fallen woman, a murderess. His emotions in turmoil, he couldn’t separate what he thought about the fact that she was guilty of the murder from what he felt about the rest of her confession.
“How could you?” he said, turning on his mother, venting his emotions in fury.
She extended her hands, palms up. “It was right.”
Her fear and weakness had vanished. Telling her story had given her a calm, dignified strength. But it had undone Sano.
“You not only had an affair with the tutor, you bore his child,” he said. Hana knew that part of the story, if not the rest; that explained her reluctance to talk. “Then you married my father and pretended it never happened. You hid your crime from him. Our whole life was a lie.”
Her secret was a skeleton that had been buried beneath the surface of their existence while Tadatoshi’s bones lay in his hidden grave. Those bones had conveyed messages from the past, and repercussions for the future, to Sano. They were indeed oracle bones.
“How can I not be angry?” Sano demanded.
His mother rose, undaunted by his outburst. “It wasn’t a lie. Your father and I were as happy together as most married couples. He was a decent man, and I served him faithfully until he died.”
That sounded meager compared with her passionate love for Egen—and Sano’s own for Reiko. Even in the heat of his rage Sano could pity his mother. He could begin to see her life from her point of view.
“You gave up everything,” he said, shaking his head in wonder. “Your life of luxury, your samurai status, your honor.” He was appalled by her disgrace and knew she must have felt the same. “How could you bear it?”
“There were compensations.” She laid her hand against his cheek and smiled. Her eyes brimmed with love. “I had you.”
Sano resisted her affection. He was even more upset by the truth about his origins. He was as much a result of his mother’s illicit affair as if he’d been the fruit of it. If not for her illegitimate, miscarried child, she would never have married his father, and Sano would never have been born. He owed his existence to the affair—and to the crime that had divided her from the man she’d loved. And he began to see what else he owed to his mother the murderess.
He’d always wondered where he’d gotten his inclination to put himself in jeopardy for the sake of a cause, his belief that justice was all-important, even if it required actions that society disapproved of or the law forbade. His nature didn’t come from his father, who’d adhered strictly to Bushido’s code of conformity to social mores and discouraged individual initiative in his son. Sano had long ago decided that his rogue tendencies were entirely his own creation. But now, as his mother dropped her hand from his face and he looked into her eyes, he saw their source.
She said, “When you were a boy, I watched you growing into the same sort of person I was when I was young. I feared you would get in trouble and ruin your life the way I did mine. Well, I was wrong.” She beamed at Sano. “My son the chamberlain!” Her smile turned rueful. “But I was right, too.”
Sano couldn’t quite smile at the memory of the times he’d stubbornly pursued murderers and delivered them to justice, risking his position and his life to uphold his personal definition of honor.
“Perhaps I’m lucky that you take after me,” his mother said. “Because you can understand why I had to kill Tadatoshi and why I convinced Doi and Egen to help me.”
To his credit and discredit, Sano did. Tadatoshi the arsonist had been the greatest criminal of all time, his death toll thousands of times greater than any killer Sano had ever faced. “Yes,” Sano admitted. “If I’d been in your position, I would have done the same as you did. I’d have taken the law into my own hands, the consequences be damned.”
More revelations astounded Sano. Was his mother’s partnership with Doi and Egen not a precedent for Sano’s partnership with Reiko and their missions into shady territory outside the law? Many people wondered why Sano put up with a wife as strong-willed and venturesome as Reiko; he’d often wondered himself. Now he saw that his acceptance of her had to do with more than love.
He must have unconsciously perceived his mother’s true nature, and she was his standard for what he wanted in a mate. His affinity for an unconventional woman had been bred in the womb. There was no part of his life that his mother and her actions hadn’t influenced.
But it didn’t matter that he understood what she’d done. His wasn’t the opinion that counted.
“Can you forgive me?” she asked anxiously.
Sano couldn’t find in himself the capacity to forgive. Emotion choked him; he didn’t trust himself to speak. And his finally learning the story didn’t help his mother. This was his last day to exonerate her, and he couldn’t. He’d always believed the truth would save the innocent, but this time it would damn the guilty.
He cleared his throat and said, “It’s not my forgiveness you need. The shogun will be expecting the final results of my investigation.” So would his enemies, who would pressure the shogun to condemn Sano and his mother. “I don’t know what to say to him.” If the shogun were to hear that she’d killed Tadatoshi because he was an arsonist and a mass murderer, he would think she was trying to justify her crime by slandering his poor dead cousin. “I can hardly tell him your story.”
“You don’t have to tell me,” a voice said behind them. “I, ahh, heard the whole thing.”
Sano and his mother started, turned, and saw the shogun in the doorway. “Your Excellency,” Sano exclaimed, unable to hide his horror that the shogun had come for another visit at the worst possible time. “What a pleasure to see you. I didn’t know you were coming.”
“Obviously not,” the shogun said tartly, “or you and your mother wouldn’t have been having such a, ahh, fascinating conversation.”
“Please come in and sit down,” Sano said. “Have you eaten yet? May I offer you some refreshments?”
Ignoring Sano’s attempt to divert him, the shogun crept into the room. His expression wavered between confusion, shock, and outrage. “She said my cousin set the fire in Koishikawa,” he said, pointing at Sano’s mother. “Is it true?”
She looked from him to Sano, stunned wordless. Sano hurried to reply, “That’s not what she said. You misheard. Now how may I be of service?”
The shogun waved Sano away. “Your mother shall answer my question. Perhaps she is the one person in this entire country who will tell me the straight facts instead of talking in circles.” He turned to her. “Did you really say that my cousin set that fire?”
This time Sano’s mother showed no fear, didn’t cringe. “Yes,” she said with quiet conviction. “I saw him with my own eyes—exactly as you heard me tell my son.”
Sano suppressed a groan. That she’d accused a member of the Tokugawa clan of a capital crime! That she’d committed this act of treason to the shogun’s face! She seemed intent on using the truth to seal her doom.
“You saw him set the fire that burned the castle?” The shogun’s voice rose shrill and loud with appalled incredulity.
&
nbsp; “Mother,” Sano said, “let me handle this.”
“Quiet!” the shogun ordered.
“Yes,” Sano’s mother said.
Sano despaired of trying to rescue her from herself. The shogun would call his guards to arrest her, Sano, and their whole family. Sano drew a breath to call his own guards. He braced himself for a fight.
The shogun sank to his knees. His assertiveness crumbled; his complexion turned pale, sickly. Sano was so disconcerted by his lord’s sudden change of mood that he exhaled and hesitated.
“I was in the castle during the Great Fire,” the shogun said in a tremulous, broken voice. “With my mother. We thought we would be safe, until the second day, when the fire started in Koishikawa. It came blazing up the hill.” He shrank into himself; his voice grew thinner and higher as he reverted to the scared little boy he’d been during the disaster.
“The wind blew the fire to the castle. We were in the middle of a sea of flames. They leaped the walls and burned the corridors on top. Then they were raging inside the castle. We hurried to the West Quarter, which was farthest away from the fire. We hid there while the rest of the castle burned.”
His gaze was clouded by the memory of that awful day, by his unforgotten terror. “If our soldiers hadn’t managed to put out the fire before it could reach the West Quarter, my mother and I would have perished.” Outrage cleared his eyes. “The fire that Tadatoshi set virtually destroyed my castle.” Thumping his palm against his chest, the shogun said, “He almost killed me!”
Astonishment struck Sano. The shogun had accepted his mother’s story as the truth. And he cared only about the part of the story that directly concerned himself. Recovering from his first shock, Sano realized that the shogun was behaving completely in character.
“Tadatoshi killed thousands of people,” Sano’s mother said.
The shogun made an impatient, dismissive gesture. “Because of him, I almost died! Even though I didn’t, I was frightened out of my wits!”
Sano’s mother frowned at his self-centeredness. Her lips parted, but Sano silenced her with a glance before she could rebuke the shogun as she had Sano when he’d behaved callously toward other people during his childhood. He floated a question as cautiously as if releasing a butterfly to test the wind.
“Do you understand why my mother and her friends had to kill Tadatoshi?”
“Yes, yes.” The shogun’s head bobbed. “He deserved to die for what he did to me.”
“And you understand that if they hadn’t killed him, he would have continued setting fires?” Sano drove his point into what the shogun would deem the heart of the matter. “His next one might have killed you.”
The shogun pursed his mouth. “Ahh, I hadn’t thought of that.” He sounded awed by his narrow escape. “But yes, you’re right.”
“So you might say that my mother not only punished an arsonist, but she saved your life,” Sano said.
“Yes, indeed!” the shogun exclaimed. Then he said, “What I don’t understand is Colonel Doi. Why did he say she, ahh, kidnapped Tadatoshi and murdered him for money? He knew what really happened to Tadatoshi because he was in on it. Why didn’t he, ahh, just tell me the truth?”
For the same reasons his mother hadn’t wanted to, Sano thought.
Their pledge, and their fear of punishment, had kept them both silent for forty-three years. Doi had counted on her to honor the pledge even after he’d accused her of murder. But that explanation didn’t best suit Sano’s purposes.
“Doi didn’t want anyone to know he was a coward who hesitated to kill an arsonist,” Sano said. “He didn’t want to admit that my mother, a mere girl, was the one brave and virtuous enough to do what needed to be done.”
Nodding, the shogun turned to her. “Yes, you were brave.” Admiration filled his voice. “In fact, you are a heroine!”
Sano’s mother looked mortified by the praise. She gave Sano a glance that said she disapproved of his manipulating the shogun but knew she was in no position to object. She knelt, bowed, and said humbly, “You’re too kind, Your Excellency.”
Sano pressed his advantage. “Will you pardon my mother?”
“Yes, of course.” The shogun declared, “I pronounce her innocent of all evildoing and set her free.”
The turn of events left Sano breathless. Just like that, his fortunes had changed. What part did it owe to the divine power of the truth, and what to the force of human selfishness?
But the shogun’s mood turned peevish. “Don’t be too relieved, Chamberlain Sano. Your mother is out of trouble, but you are still under suspicion in the, ahh, killing of the witness in my cousin’s murder case. Or had you forgotten?”
Sano hadn’t, although he’d hoped the shogun had. “I have news about that. The man who was murdered wasn’t Egen the tutor. He was an impostor.”
As Sano explained how the discovery had been made, his mother’s features went slack with astonishment. This was the first she’d heard of it; Sano hadn’t had a chance to tell her sooner. “He wasn’t Egen,” she whispered. “I should have known.”
“An actor, fancy that,” the shogun said. “But you still could have killed him.” He rose and pointed his finger at Sano. “And don’t try to wiggle out of trouble! I’m tired of people playing me for a fool!”
Sano eased out of the room, drawing the shogun with him. He saw that his mother was offended by the shogun’s treatment of him, and he didn’t want her to say something that would change the shogun’s mind about pardoning her. He ushered the shogun to the reception room.
“I beg you to let me prove my innocence,” Sano said. “With your permission, I’ll go and work on that now.”
“Permission denied!” The shogun clutched Sano’s sleeve. “I came to talk to you because I am, ahh, faced with a terrible crisis. You’re not going anywhere until you help me!”
“I’ll be glad to help,” Sano said. “What is this crisis?”
The shogun paced the room, frantic with worry. “Ever since I found out that Lord Matsudaira wants to take my place, people have been urging me to declare war on his whole branch of our clan. They think I should lead a battle not only to crush him for good, but to subjugate his sons, his other kin, and his thousands of retainers. They talk and argue and pressure me.” He clasped his hands over his ears. “They won’t stop!”
Sano wasn’t surprised. The samurai class had grown restless since the war between Lord Matsudaira and the former chamberlain Yanagisawa, a minor skirmish during a peace that had lasted almost a century. Civil war was the logical outcome of escalating political strife, and a ruler under threat must launch a defense. Although Sano dreaded what a war would do to Japan, battle-lust enflamed his samurai blood. He welcomed the chance for a showdown with his enemy. And he knew his duty.
“If you want to go to war with Lord Matsudaira’s people, you can count on my support,” Sano said.
“But I don’t want to! I don’t like fighting. All I want is to live in peace!” The shogun faced Sano with shoulders hunched and clasped hands extended. “What shall I do?”
“You could put Lord Matsudaira to death,” Sano said. “He’s a traitor; he’s already under arrest. Executing him is a logical next step. It would spare you the trouble of a war.” And spare Sano and his family more attacks from Lord Matsudaira.
“I can’t do that!” The shogun was horrified at the idea of taking responsibility for such drastic action.
“Then tell everyone that you forbid a war,” Sano said, honor-bound to serve his lord’s wishes and put aside his own agenda. “You’re their master. They have to obey.”
Although the shogun looked tempted, he said, “But if I do that, they’ll know what a coward I am. They’ll think I don’t deserve to be shogun.”
They would, and they would be right, but Sano said, “It doesn’t matter what they think. The emperor grants the title of shogun. By divine law, nobody else can take it away from you.”
“The emperor is in his palace in Miyak
o. He doesn’t care who is shogun. Nor does he want to, ahh, get involved in any trouble. Rather than stand up for me, he would just as soon grant the title to an ox!”
Having met the emperor nine years ago, Sano had to admit that this assessment of him was correct. Japan’s emperors hadn’t had any political or military power in centuries, and this one wouldn’t likely change the status quo.
“If I refuse to fight Lord Matsudaira, everyone will switch their allegiance to him,” the shogun wailed. “They’ll band together and destroy me!”
They must have used that threat to coerce the shogun. Sano said reluctantly, “Then your only alternative is to make peace with Lord Matsudaira. Invite him to talk. Negotiate a truce.”
“I can’t.” The shogun wrung his hands. “It’s too late. Lord Matsudaira has already made the first strike.”
“What?” Surprised and alarmed, Sano said, “When?”
“Not two hours ago. His troops ambushed and killed ten of mine on the Ryogoku Bridge.”
Sano supposed that Lord Matsudaira might have ordered the ambush … but he saw a familiar pattern, smelled a familiar scent. He was sure about who had attacked the shogun and implicated Lord Matsudaira in order to force the shogun’s hand.
“If I don’t retaliate, I’m not just a coward, I’m a fool.” The shogun moaned. “Chamberlain Sano, I can’t bear all this trouble. Make it go away!”
Sano had a sudden memory of the last time he’d heard those words, three or four years ago. Masahiro had had a nightmare and awakened screaming. When Sano and Reiko had hurried to his bedside, he’d told them there was a ghost in the house. Make it go away! he’d begged.
The shogun was looking at Sano with the same fright Sano had seen in Masahiro’s eyes.
That night Sano had roved the house, slashing his sword at the ghost while Masahiro had trailed him anxiously. When Sano had exorcised every room, he’d said, It’s gone.
But he couldn’t banish the shogun’s troubles by playing games … Or could he?
The Fire Kimono Page 25