Sano Ichiro 5 The Samurai's Wife (2000)

by Laura Joh Rowland

  "They're very powerful, very much feared. It's no use reporting them to the police, because they bribe the police to leave them alone. They kill anyone who makes trouble for them. Even to speak of the Dazai is bad luck."

  "Mayumi-chan!" called the man in the kitchen. "Stop bothering the customers. Get back to work!"

  "Excuse me, I must go." The girl bowed. Before hurrying away, she whispered, "Please heed my warning, for your own good."

  Reiko sat mulling over what she'd just heard. Why did the Dazai clan mint coins bearing their crest? How had Left Minister Konoe come to possess the coins? Perhaps he'd been spying on the Dazai. Reiko recalled the thugs she'd seen at Lord Ibe's house. Were they members of the Dazai and a link between Konoe's murder and the plot against the Tokugawa? Reiko shared Sano's belief that the coins were a critical element in the mystery, but how would she discover their meaning if everyone in Miyako refused to talk about them or the Dazai?

  The five-hundred-year-old temple of Sanjusangendo was located in Miyako's southern sector, near the east bank of the Kamo River. Worshippers and priests thronged the precinct around its halls, shrines, and pagoda. Gongs clanged; children romped. Sano stood alone inside the vermilion east gate, watching the activity while he questioned the wisdom of coming.

  He needed information that Left Minister Konoe had probably concealed from the Imperial Court but might have confided to someone outside the palace, however little she'd welcomed his confidences. Hence, Sano had gone to Kodai Temple in search of Kozeri, but his rising agitation forced him to recognize that he wanted more than just answers from her. He told himself that his pursuit of the truth required him to withstand his attraction to Kozeri.

  Upon reaching the convent, he learned that she'd gone out begging for alms at Sanjusangendo. Her absence was a good excuse to avoid her, yet he needed evidence to connect the rebel conspiracy with the murder case. Now he walked through the precinct to the main hall. This was brightly painted, with red pillars, white walls, green window gratings, blue and yellow trim. Inside stretched a room like a cavernous tunnel, broken only by huge wooden pillars. Sano followed worshippers whose murmurs echoed to a high, beamed ceiling, alongside an altar that extended the length of the room. Candles and incense sticks burned on stands. Behind these loomed statues of wind and thunder gods. Above them, rising in eleven tiers like a golden army, stood the famous thousand and one statues of the goddess Kannon.

  The flickering candlelight animated the figures and their serene faces crowned by spiked haloes. Their many hands, which held flowers, knives, skulls, and prayer wheels, seemed to flex and gesture. When Sano emerged into the searing sunlight of the courtyard, he saw three nuns in hemp robes and wicker hats, carrying wooden begging bowls. Kozeri stood in the middle. Surprise and pleasure lit her lovely eyes.

  "Good afternoon, Sosakan-sama," she said.

  Her presence kindled a dark excitement in Sano. She was a witness with information he wanted, but he mustn't let her inspire dangerous thoughts.

  With a shy smile, Kozeri said, "What brings you to Sanjusangendo?"

  "I was looking for you." Seeing a blush color Kozeri's cheeks, Sano understood that she'd craved another meeting as much as he; she welcomed his words as a sign of his interest in her. Flattered, Sano condemned himself as a vain, selfish boor. That he should forsake his wife to enjoy a nun's affections! "Actually, I have more questions to ask you," he said, trying to sound businesslike. "About Left Minister Konoe."

  "Oh. I see." Although Kozeri kept smiling, disappointment and caution extinguished the light in her face. She inclined her head. "All right."

  "Is there someplace we can talk?" Sano asked, surveying the busy temple grounds.

  Without meeting his gaze, Kozeri nodded. She said to her companions, "Please excuse me."

  "Perhaps we should stay with you," said the older of the two nuns, eyeing Sano shrewdly.

  Perhaps you should, thought Sano as his heart jumped at the chance to be alone with Kozeri. But when she told the nuns, "It's all right, I'll be back soon," he let them go. He and Kozeri left the temple and strolled down an avenue bordered by the villas of imperial nobles who could afford second homes outside the palace. Past them moved palanquins carrying courtiers and ladies. Trees swayed, dappling the street with shadows. Kozeri walked with arms clasped around her begging bowl and her head bowed beneath her hat.

  "I need to know about the last time you saw Left Minister Konoe," Sano said. "What did he say?"

  "Nothing... That is, nothing except the same kind of things he said in his letters." Kozeri's voice was low but steady; perhaps she, too, felt more at ease with an impersonal subject between them. "I haven't had a real conversation with my former husband in years."

  Sano sympathized with her unwillingness to discuss a painful subject, but instinct told him that the encounter was important to the case. "Let's go over everything that happened," he said. "Start with the left minister's arrival at Kodai Temple."

  The brim of her hat bobbed as Kozeri reluctantly nodded. She kept her eyes on the ground as they walked, perhaps embarrassed by the curiosity of passersby who stared at the rare sight of a nun and a samurai walking together. In spite of himself, Sano wished she would look at him.

  "It was early morning," Kozeri said. "Another nun and I were sweeping the veranda when he came. He said, `Kozeri, you're as beautiful as you were when we married fifteen years ago. You never seem to age.' I dropped my broom and backed away, but he came up the steps toward me. He was smiling. I told the other nun to go get help.

  "He said, `I'm so glad to see you. Can't you at least act glad to see me?' " The memory of fear echoed in Kozeri's voice. "Then he started getting angry. He said he knew my heart better than I did, and I should realize that I loved him. He began talking about... things he wanted to do to me." Kozeri lifted a pleading gaze to Sano; her ivory complexion turned pink with shame. "Must I repeat them?"

  "No, that's not necessary," Sano said hastily. "What happened next?"

  Kozeri sighed. "This is very difficult...."

  "I understand," Sano said. "Take your time."

  Too late he noticed that they'd left the busy streets and were nearing the river. Willows lined the bank. Their arching boughs formed caves of shadow. Between the gnarled tree trunks, sunlight glinted on the water, but the foliage hid the far bank. The slope of the ground blocked Sano's view of the houses behind him; the ripple of the water drowned out traffic sounds. It seemed as though the city and everyone else in the world had vanished. Sano was about to suggest that they return to Sanjusangendo when Kozeri descended the riverbank and set down her begging bowl.

  "The left minister trapped me against the wall. He grabbed my shoulders." She stood with her back pressed to a willow, hands clenched at her sides, pantomiming her story. "Then some priests came and took him away." A sigh of relief cased from her; she ran her hands down her breasts and hips, as if to assure herself that Konoe hadn't hurt her.

  Watching, Sano felt a shameful burgeoning of desire, and an unwelcome understanding of the left minister's obsession with Kozeri. She seemed so innocent, yet overwhelmingly seductive. Sano tasted danger and excitement. His heart was racing, his breathing quick. He smelled decaying vegetation and the river's marshy scent; mossy ground yielded beneath his feet as he went to stand by Kozeri. He felt the vague, uneasy confusion that he'd experienced during his first interview with her. What was he forgetting to ask?

  Kozeri turned toward him. A nervous smile hovered upon her lips. Sano wondered whether she'd brought him here deliberately. Were her feelings as mixed as his own? Her eyes shone fever-bright, and under the loose robe, her breasts rose and fell with rapid breaths. She looked scared; she also looked like a woman erotically aroused. Sano felt his own body respond.

  To hide his distress, he said, "What else happened?"

  "That was all." Then a thoughtful look came into Kozeri's eyes. "Wait...I'd forgotten. When the left minister was forced to leave the temple, he shouted at me. I don
't remember his exact words, but they went like this: `Soon you'll realize that you made a terrible mistake by leaving me. I'm on the verge of the greatest accomplishment of my life. Soon every man shall do my bidding, every woman desire my favor. You shall be so impressed that you'll return to me at last!'

  "What do you think he meant?" Sano asked, intrigued.

  "He always wanted to be imperial prime minister," Kozeri said. "I assumed that he was finally going to get the post."

  A promotion would have given him greater prestige at court, but Sano believed Konoe had learned the murderer's secret and planned to apply it toward a different sort of `accomplishment' that would win him power, wealth, and Kozeri's esteem. Yet once again, the sense of a gap in the case bothered Sano, although Chamberlain Yanagisawa had supplied much of the missing information.

  Kozeri stood watching him. Her hand wandered up to pat her lips, then clasp her throat. Her sensual habit of caressing herself provoked in Sano an almost irresistible urge to touch her. "The other nuns will be wondering what happened to me," she said.

  Sano noticed that the afternoon sun had descended in the sky, sheening the river with bronze. The shadows under the willows had deepened. Above the water's incessant rush hummed a prenocturnal chorus of insects. Sano had the evidence he'd come for; he should go back to the Imperial Palace and finish his inquiries, or find out what had come of Chamberlain Yanagisawa's raid on Lord Ibe's estate.

  "Yes," he said, "we should go."

  Yet neither he nor Kozeri moved. Her eyes filled with panicky anticipation. Go on and have her, whispered a demon inside Sano. Other men do this all the time; there's no need to feel guilty. Reiko doesn't have to know. Sano walked slowly toward Kozeri. She gave a frightened whimper, but made no effort to stop him. Now he stood close enough to hear her breathing in sharp hisses and see the saliva gleam on her quivering lips. His hands lifted. This was wrong. He loved Reiko, whom he'd already hurt badly by faking his death. He ached with his need for Kozeri.

  Hands poised above her shoulders and their faces almost touching, Sano saw his inner turmoil reflected in her eyes. As a nun, she would have taken a vow of celibacy, but she was a sensual woman who'd lived fifteen years without a man. Sano could see her trembling with repressed hunger. Forcing himself to think of Reiko, he only realized a disturbing truth about his nature. A part of him was drawn to women with an aura of tragedy, whose spirits carried the same veins of darkness as his own.

  Women like Aoi, the ninja spy he'd fallen in love with during his first case as the shogun's investigator.

  And Sano knew that Reiko, with her bright personality, could never quite satisfy the dark part of him, no matter how much they loved each other.

  Suddenly Kozeri moaned, a sound of utter, passionate submission. Tilting her head, she laid her cheek on Sano's hand, eyes closed and lips parted. The feel of her hot, moist skin thrilled Sano. With his other hand he stroked the nape of her neck, that most erotic visible part of a woman's body. Lefting his fingers trail slowly down Kozeri's back, he drew her closer to him.

  She moaned louder and pressed herself against him. For a moment, Sano swooned with pleasure. Then horror jolted him from dazed lust and into awareness that he'd taken the first step toward forbidden sex. Now his desire filled him with revulsion. With an anguished cry, he pulled away from Kozeri.

  She stared in surprise. "What's wrong?"

  Raising his hands in a gesture of helpless apology, Sano shook his head and said, "I'm sorry."

  "Don't you want me?" Tears welled in Kozeri's eyes.

  "I can't do this," Sano said. Turning, he fled as if pursued by an invading army.

  25

  At Kodai Temple, the afternoon had passed in its unvarying routine of prayers and chores; the nuns had returned from begging in the city, and evening rites had begun. While bells tolled across Miyako, the setting sun poured fiery light through the windows of the convent dormitory. There knelt the nuns, heads shaven, completely naked. In three rows, firm young bodies alternated with those of older women with sagging flesh. They faced the abbess, who sat upon a platform at the front of the room.

  "Breathe deeply," intoned the abbess. She sucked air through her mouth. "In. Out. Gather the energy within you."

  At her place in the middle row, Kozeri inhaled the musky smell of the women whose breaths echoed her own. She tried to let her mind drift and feel the energy kindle inside her. For fifteen years she'd practiced this exercise, designed to focus her mental power and bring spiritual enlightenment. Usually she slipped into a trance easily, but tonight the required concentration evaded her. The shogun's sosakan had disturbed her inner harmony. Scenes from the past invaded the darkness behind her closed eyelids.

  She saw the garden of her family's mansion, the secluded paradise of her youth. Again she ran laughing through the spring rains, hot summers, autumn leaves, and winter snows with her favorite cousin and playmate, Lord Ryozen. As the years passed, Kozeri became a beautiful young woman, Ryozen a handsome youth; friendship evolved into romance. Their families approved of the match, which would strengthen the connection between two noble clans. At age fifteen, Kozeri and Ryozen knelt before the Shinto priest and sipped the ritual three wedding cups of sake.

  Kozeri spent happy days making a home for Ryozen, while he worked as secretary to Left Minister Konoe. In the evenings they entertained themselves with music, poetry, and lovemaking. Soon Kozeri was pregnant. Then, five months later, things went suddenly, terribly wrong. Kozeri was resting in her room one afternoon when her mother entered.

  "Daughter," said the older woman, her face woeful, "I bring terrible news. Ryozen is dead. Someone stabbed him."

  Kozeri shook her head in disbelief. "But I just saw him this morning. There must be some mistake."

  "There is no mistake," her mother said sorrowfully.

  "No!" Kozeri stumbled from the house and met servants bringing in a blanket-covered figure on a litter. Tearing off the blanket, she saw her husband's still, pale face. She burst into a torrent of weeping.

  Then an excruciating cramp convulsed her stomach. Kozeri screamed and fell. More pains wracked her. She heard her mother calling, "She's in labor! Fetch the doctor!"

  Many agonizing hours later, Kozeri delivered a dead baby boy. She lost much blood; fever followed the stillbirth. Ten months passed before Kozeri rose from her bed. She sat listlessly in the garden, pining for Ryozen. Then one day her father came to her.

  "It is time to consider your future," he said. "Left Minister Konoe has asked for your hand in marriage, and I have consented."

  Now the sonorous voice of the abbess drew Kozeri back to the present: "Feel the energy flow from your center to every part of your body. Let us seal the power inside us."

  Kozeri opened her eyes and saw the abbess holding a long strip of cloth. She picked up a similar cloth from the floor beside her. Imitating the abbess's movements, she wrapped it tightly around her stomach. The other nuns did the same. In the dying sunlight, their faces shone with a tranquillity she envied.

  "Lean forward, head and shoulders down," said the abbess. "Align your nose with your navel. Relax. And breathe, slowly. One, two..."

  With the cloth compressing her muscles, Kozeri inhaled and exhaled, silently counting toward four hundred breaths. Briefly she resisted the memories, then let them come....

  She hadn't wanted to remarry, but it was her duty to obey her father, who craved the prestige the new match would bring to their clan. Hence, she wedded Left Minister Konoe. He was a virtual stranger; his rank and wealth awed her. During the ceremony, she dared not even look at him, and their wedding night proved an inauspicious beginning for the marriage.

  In the bedchamber, Konoe tenderly undressed her. "Don't worry, I'll be gentle," he said.

  Kozeri knew she should show gratitude toward him for rescuing her from widowhood, yet she couldn't help recalling Ryozen, and their happiness together. Tears burned her eyes. Feeling no desire for Konoe, she endured his caresses; she let hi
m mount her. But when he pushed his erection against her womanhood, her inner muscles clenched shut. Konoe thrust and panted, but couldn't get in. Pain overcame Kozeri's self-control. The tears spilled.

  Konoe forced a smile and said, "It's been a strenuous day. Let us sleep now, and begin over tomorrow."

  He spent all his free time with Kozeri, and much money on gifts and amusements for her. All the palace ladies envied Kozeri, but the left minister seemed so grand that she couldn't get over her shyness. When he talked, she could manage only timid monosyllables in reply. Further attempts to consummate their marriage failed, and Konoe began to express his dissatisfaction in frightening ways.

  Every evening he would ask, "What did you do today? Whom did you see?" and make Kozeri account for every moment of their time apart. He forbade her to go anywhere without him. He dropped in on her during the day, as if to catch her doing something wrong. He would not allow her to receive guests. Besides Konoe and his staff, the only people Kozeri saw were her elderly music, calligraphy, and painting teachers.