Red Chrysanthemum (36 page)

“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.

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 recommend 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.