The emperor's blade slashed at Sano's head, driving him toward the wall of the building. Sano knew that if he fought back, he risked hurting the emperor, but refusing to stand up to Tomohito would only confirm the boy's belief that he was good enough to take on the Tokugawa army and send him to his death in the battle. Drawing his sword, Sano parried cuts.

"When Ichijo found out that Left Minister Konoe was a metsuke spy who'd discovered the plot, Ichijo killed him," Sano said. His blade clanged against Tomohito's, forcing the emperor across the veranda toward the railing. But Tomohito only laughed; his attacks grew wilder. "If you'll implicate Ichijo, I'll persuade the shogun to pardon you."

"I don't care if Ichijo did kill Left Minister Konoe. I don't need him anymore. I don't need a pardon from the shogun, either. When I rule j.a.pan, he'll be my servant!"

Sano's arm ached from blocking strikes; his head reverberated with the ring of steel. He was the far better swordsman, but a person who wants to win has an advantage over one who doesn't want to fight. Tomohito whacked Sano's left upper arm. The blade cut through the chain mail and padding of his sleeve. To his alarm, Sano felt searing pain, then the warm wetness of blood.

"Ha!" Tomohito exclaimed. "I got you! Prepare to die!"

Eyes bright with glee, the emperor raised his sword in both hands. He rushed Sano, bellowing. In desperation, Sano feinted a jab at Tomohito's groin. The emperor sprang backward and lowered his weapon. Sano brought his blade around, slashing at Tomohito's hands. With a cry of pain, the emperor let go of the sword. It clattered across the veranda. Tomohito stood paralyzed, gazing with horror at his outspread right hand.

A narrow cut traced a red line across the knuckles. He looked at Sano, his face aghast.

"I'm bleeding." His voice was a ragged croak. Probably he'd never been injured before, never seen his own blood. He must have thought himself invincible.

"I'm sorry," Sano said, horrified at wounding the sacred sovereign. Perhaps, though, the experience would teach Emperor Tomohito a lesson. "But this is minor compared to what will happen if you don't cooperate."

"The G.o.ds shall strike you down for this," Tomohito whimpered. Dropping to his knees, he cradled his b.l.o.o.d.y hand.

"The penalty for treason is death by decapitation." Sano kept his sword pointed at Tomohito, underscoring the threat. "Even your divine status won't save you-unless you agree to denounce Right Minister Ichijo."

Marume and f.u.kida hurried onto the veranda. "The guards are dead," Marume said.

"Go back to the battlefield," Sano said. "I'll handle things here."

The detectives left. Sano stood beside Tomohito. "The right minister manipulated you into believing that the plot was your idea and he was just carrying out your orders. He's a murderer who doesn't deserve your protection. Give up, Your Majesty. Save yourself and let Ichijo suffer."

Tomohito shook his head in dazed misery. "No," he whispered. His complexion was a sickly white; he seemed on the verge of fainting. "He didn't. I can't..."

"Look around." Sano swept his sword in a high arc that encompa.s.sed the mountains above Kiyomizu Temple, the lighted city below. "j.a.pan is bigger than you can comprehend. The Tokugawa army is hundreds of thousands strong. Any rebels who escape slaughter tonight may straggle across the country, attracting a few followers, stirring up trouble, but they'll be defeated in the end. Ichijo's ambitions far exceed his grasp."

As the emperor gazed at the view, he seemed to see it for the first time. A shudder pa.s.sed through his body. The shadows of dying dreams darkened his eyes. Sano sheathed his sword, overcome with sorrow for the boy. Tomohito wept.

"I wanted to rule j.a.pan," he mourned. "I wanted to be someone besides a useless G.o.d locked away from the world. Now I'm afraid to die." The knowledge of his own mortality filled his voice with terror; tears streamed down his face as he looked up at Sano. "Right Minister Ichijo didn't mount the revolt, but if you want me to say he did, I will, if you'll spare my life."

His insistence upon the right minister's innocence disturbed Sano. Finally he had the testimony needed to convict Ichijo, but what if Ichijo really wasn't the instigator of the revolt? Did that mean he hadn't killed Left Minister Konoe or Aisu either?

Reluctantly, Sano entertained the possibility that the revolt and the murders were not connected, or else were connected in a way he'd never guessed. He began arranging facts into a new theory. Emperor Tomohito was the heart of the Imperial Court as well as the center of the revolt. The interests of everyone at the palace were linked to his. Therefore, someone other than the traitor could have killed to protect Tomohito from the punishment he would suffer if Konoe reported the conspiracy, then later tried to kill Sano and halt his investigation for the same reason. If the traitor and the killer weren't the same person...

A flash of enlightenment seared Sano's mind. The suspect he'd dismissed as incapable of mounting an insurrection fit this new logic as well as did the more likely culprits. Prince Momozono was the emperor's confidant, and must also be privy to the secrets of many other people who didn't bother hiding their business from an idiot. He could have known about the plot, and that Left Minister Konoe was a metsuke spy. Sano tallied other reasons that pointed to Momozono's guilt. Stricken by the certainty that this new theory was right, he marveled at the unexpected turn the case had taken.

Then, from the east side of the hall, Sano heard hooting sounds, followed by slow, stumbling footsteps. He recalled Ichijo saying that Prince Momozono must have run away with Emperor Tomohito.

"Help me, Momo-chan!" the emperor cried.

The killer was coming.

34.

From astride his horse, Chamberlain Yanagisawa surveyed the battle. Gun muzzles spewed thunder; arrows flew. Swordsmen clashed, their blades glinting in the light of fallen torches and a tree that had caught fire. Hundreds of bodies lay strewn across the plaza and the steps leading to Kiyomizu Temple; riderless horses galloped free; blood stained the ground. Yanagisawa's army had suffered many casualties, but the Tokugawa forces now far outnumbered the rebels. Victory was near.

Yanagisawa rode back and forth along the perimeter of the battlefield. Waving his war fan, he shouted orders to the commanders, who conveyed them to the troops with conch-sh.e.l.l trumpet, war drums, and flags. His throat was sore and his voice hoa.r.s.e, his ears deafened by the noise. Smoke and gunpowder fumes filled his lungs. He ached from the impact of bullets against his armor. The barbaric violence sickened him, yet he gloried in it. Battle had fully roused the samurai spirit that had awakened within him during the investigation.

Now his political feuds seemed like trivial subst.i.tutes for real war. When a mounted rebel soldier charged him, Yanagisawa swung his sword, slashing the man's throat. A soaring exhilaration lifted him above himself, to a rarefied plane where he could fulfill his true purpose in life: to lead his lord's army to victory, or die in the effort.

A pair of outlaw priests broke away from the combat zone. Clutching spears, tattered saffron robes flying, they sprinted down the sloping road toward the city.

"Stop them!" Yanagisawa called.

Before his troops could respond, a figure bounded up the dark street and waylaid the rebels. It was a samurai dressed in ordinary kimono. Wielding his long sword in his right hand and his short one in his left, he fought the priests.

Yanagisawa watched in puzzlement. Who had belatedly joined the defense? Then the newcomer cut down one of his opponents. As he drove the other up toward the plaza, he emerged into the light. Yanagisawa recognized familiar broad shoulders and a distinctive grace of motion. He blinked.

"It can't be!" he muttered.

The samurai finished off the second priest and loped up the hill, looking around him. It was Yoriki Hoshina. Suddenly he caught sight of Yanagisawa. He paused, a sword in each hand, as he and Yanagisawa looked at each other. The noisy chaos of battle faded from Yanagisawa's consciousness.

Then Hoshina advanced hesitantly up the road. Br.i.m.m.i.n.g with wonder, hardly aware of what he was doing, Yanagisawa dismounted and walked toward Hoshina. Had desire conjured up an apparition to haunt him? As they came together in the shadows beside a building, Yanagisawa's legs felt unsteady.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

Hoshina stopped several paces away. On his cheeks were bruises Yanagisawa had inflicted during their fight-he was real, not a ghost. He said, "I've come back."

"Why?" Rage and pain erupted in Yanagisawa. "To play me for a fool again? To kill me for humiliating you in front of your police comrades?"

Hoshina wordlessly shook his head while Yanagisawa brandished his sword, then dropped his weapons and spread his arms in a gesture of surrender. "Because I had to see you again," he said, as though it were the most obvious reason in the world.

Increasingly baffled, Yanagisawa said, "But I condemned you to death. I could kill you now."

"I don't care." Breathing hard, glistening with sweat, Hoshina stood proudly. "To be with you makes death worthwhile."

The words filled Yanagisawa with an amazement that he hid behind scorn. "Well, if you're so eager to die, then why did you run away?"

"It was my only hope of proving that I'm not the villain you think I am. It was the only way to convince you that all I wanted was to help you." How Yanagisawa wanted to believe the yoriki! But he couldn't bear to be hurt again. "This is another trick," he said. "You think you can escape death by worming your way into my affections again. You're too much of a coward to accept your fate and die like a samurai!"

With a rueful smile, Hoshina said, "If I were a coward, I wouldn't have come back. If I were still the schemer that I've been all my life, I would know better than to try a ploy that had already failed, on a man who recognized me for what I was. I want to atone for betraying your trust and prove my love for you." Hoshina took another step toward Yanagisawa. "Then I'll die gladly."

"You're a liar!" Even as Yanagisawa's spirit trembled at the ardent declaration, he pointed his sword at Hoshina, keeping the length of steel between them. "I'll kill you!"

"I don't think you will." Instead of picking up his fallen weapons, Hoshina moved closer to Yanagisawa. From the battlefield, sporadic explosions of gunfire continued. Hoshina's steady gaze transfixed Yanagisawa; the sword trembled in Yanagisawa's hand as he backed away. "You could have killed me yesterday," Hoshina said, "but you didn't even draw your sword. That's why I'm willing to gamble my life now. But even if I lose the bet, at least I'll have brought you evidence to help you solve the case and made amends for betraying you to the sosakan-sama."

"What evidence? What are you talking about?"

"When I escaped, I took cover in the underworld of Miyako," Hoshina said. "I tracked down police informants and asked questions. What I learned will help your investigation."

"I don't want to hear it!" Yanagisawa took another step backward, clutching the extended sword. Hoshina advanced. He dipped his hand into the cloth pouch at his waist. Fearing a hidden weapon, Yanagisawa cried, "Stop. Don't move!"

Hoshina removed a small object from the pouch and offered it to Yanagisawa on his outstretched palm. "Do you remember this?"

It was a fern-leaf coin from Left Minister Konoe's office. Uncomprehending, Yanagisawa nodded.

"I've found out what it is," Hoshina said. When Yanagisawa didn't respond, anxiety sharpened his face. "I understand why you're suspicious, but please, just listen to what I have to say. Then decide if you can forgive me for the harm I've done."

Instead of running away, Hoshina had stayed in Miyako to continue the investigation! He'd kept his promise to investigate the mysterious coins. Confused and shaken, fighting to maintain his resolve against Hoshina, Yanagisawa continued backing away, his sword aimed at the yoriki.

"You're just trying to manipulate me into pardoning you!"

Despair slumped Hoshina's shoulders, and his face looked suddenly ravaged by fatigue. "If that's what you really believe, then so be it." Still, he kept advancing. Yanagisawa's back struck a solid wooden pillar, abruptly halting his retreat. Hoshina moved closer until his throat was touching the tip of Yanagisawa's blade.

"So kill me now," Hoshina said, "and I'll die satisfied with the knowledge that I did my best for the man who means more to me than my own life."

The sight of the sharp steel point indenting Hoshina's bare skin filled Yanagisawa with awe. No man dedicated to self-interest would ever offer up his life this way. Yanagisawa could finally believe in Hoshina's honesty. And he saw a chance to put a tragedy behind him and atone for his own sins.

Shichisaburo had died for love of him. Rather than do what was right and honorable, Yanagisawa had condemned the actor to execution. But he needn't relive the past. He drew a deep breath. If he could find within himself the mercy to forgive, the courage to relinquish pride...

Hoshina's steady gaze, filled with a mixture of faith and fear, compelled Yanagisawa's decision. The breath rushed out of him; the sword fell from his grasp. Hoshina's face lit with happiness. They exchanged a long, silent look that conveyed forgiveness and grat.i.tude, affirmed love, and stirred desire, while jubilant shouts from the battlefield heralded the imminent Tokugawa victory.

Eventually, they picked up and sheathed their weapons, then stood side by side, watching the battle, uncertain what to say. Hoshina ventured, "Now can I tell you what I learned about the coin?"

"Yes, if you like." Yanagisawa's heart was soaring with such happiness that he hardly cared about the clue.

"The coin was minted by a powerful Miyako gangster clan by the name of Dazai," Hoshina said.

"That's interesting," Yanagisawa said, not wanting to admit that he already knew and let Hoshina think his effort had been wasted.

"My informant is a Dazai retainer," Hoshina said. "He told me that the gang trades in stolen goods. Usually the chief buys them outright from thieves and keeps the money he makes from reselling them. But when the merchandise is very rare or valuable, he pays after he's found the right buyer. He gives the thief one of these." Hoshina held up the coin, explaining, "The Dazai are former samurai. They have a sense of honor. The coin is their pledge that they'll either pay for the merchandise eventually, or return it."

The unexpected news revealed a startling new dimension to the murder case. "The coin was found with two others in Left Minister Konoe's house," Yanagisawa said. "That means he sold things to the Dazai. Things he'd obtained illegally, that he couldn't sell on the open market."

"And the fact that such coins were found among Konoe's possessions meant he'd never been paid." Eagerness animated Hoshina's face. "So I asked my informant if the Dazai still had the merchandise. He said yes. I talked him into letting me into the warehouse where they hide stolen goods. I saw what they got from Konoe: antique kimonos, with chrysanthemum crests on the fabric. I recognized them from when I inspected the imperial storehouses."

"Konoe stole from the palace?" Yanagisawa struggled to fathom the notion of the metsuke spy as a thief. "Why?" Then he shook his head. "The Dazai wouldn't have asked; all they would care about was the money they could make by selling imperial treasure to rich collectors."

"But I know why," Hoshina said excitedly. "The kimonos weren't all that Konoe had sold the Dazai. He'd been bringing them valuable artifacts for years, a little at a time. But here's the most interesting part: After selling the things, the Dazai didn't pay Konoe. Some of the gold they kept, as part of a secret deal they had with him. The rest they delivered to a priest at Lord Ibe's house, along with weapons and ammunition. Do you know what that means?"

It meant that he and Sano had completely misunderstood a critical element of the murder case, Yanagisawa realized. "Konoe was behind the imperial restoration attempt," he said, stunned by the revelation. "The troops were armed with money raised by stealing palace treasure." Not through loans from the bank to which Yanagisawa had followed Jokyoden's messenger; not with payments made by Ichijo during secret meetings at the Ear Mound. "Konoe's deal with the Dazai must have been a pact to combine forces to overthrow the Tokugawa. He got the revolt under way, and his allies carried on after his death. Merciful G.o.ds..."

"The spy was the traitor!" Hoshina exclaimed.

"Sano and I a.s.sumed that the revolt was the reason for Left Minister Konoe's murder." Chagrin overwhelmed Yanagisawa. "But if he was responsible for the plot, he didn't die because the killer wanted to keep him from reporting it to the bakufu."

"Therefore the plot had nothing to do with Konoe's death," Hoshina said.

"I just can't accept that!" Yanagisawa restlessly paced the street.

"We can't ignore the facts," Hoshina said. "As soon as this complication is out of the way-" he gestured toward the battlefield "--we can go back to the palace and find out the truth about Konoe's murder."

"I suppose you're right." Yanagisawa slowed his steps; yet he couldn't concede defeat. He devised a fresh theory around the conspiracy, like rebuilding a house to accommodate a giant piece of furniture that won't fit. He said, "Before, the question was, 'Who was the traitor Konoe had discovered?' But what if we turn it around and ask, 'Who knew Konoe was a traitor?'

"I don't see where that leads," Hoshina said, bewildered.

Instinct told Yanagisawa that he was heading in the right direction. "Suppose Konoe didn't die because he had compromising knowledge about anyone. Could the murderer have killed Konoe because he--or she-knew about his treason?"

"Anyone who knew about the conspiracy could have destroyed the left minister by simply reporting it to the bakufu," Hoshina pointed out. "There would have been no reason for murder."

Yanagisawa recognized other flaws in his theory. He had no proof that Right Minister Ichijo or Lady Jokyoden had known about the plot. Emperor Tomohito had known, but as part of the conspiracy, he couldn't have betrayed Konoe without getting himself in trouble. But Yanagisawa could guess who had known... and couldn't have hoped to gain by reporting Left Minister Konoe's crime to the bakufu.

In a leap of thought and logic too rapid to express in words, Yanagisawa whispered, "Prince Momozono is the killer!"

Hoshina laughed. "You're joking." Then, seeing that Yanagisawa was serious, he said, "Why do you think so?"

Yanagisawa suddenly saw the personal ramifications of his discovery. He ran uphill to the plaza. There, amid trampled corpses, some hundred rebels still fought valiantly. Yanagisawa scanned the ranks of his army. Mounted troops rode down the enemy; teams of swordsmen battled each priest, gangster, and outlaw samurai. Yanagisawa didn't see Sano, who must have gone off in search of Emperor Tomohito. Sano hadn't heard Hoshina's story; he didn't know what would happen if he tried to capture the emperor.

Now Yanagisawa saw his dearest wishes hovering on the horizon like a radiant constellation: Sano gone forever; the solution to the murder case in Yanagisawa's hands, his victory over the rebels certain; a secure future in the shogun's favor. All he had to do was absolutely nothing. Yanagisawa inhaled the scent of blood and gunpowder as he savored his triumph... but somehow it wasn't as satisfying as he'd expected. With astonishment, he realized that something had changed inside him. Tonight he'd experienced the Way of the Warrior. The taste of honor had diminished his appet.i.te for the feud with Sano. Deliberately letting one of his soldiers die seemed disgraceful behavior for a samurai general.

Yoriki Hoshina joined him. "What's wrong?"

Yanagisawa stared at Hoshina. Now he understood that their reunion had also changed him, had altered his vision of the world. For two years Sano had been the bane of his existence; yet Sano had always acted out of duty to the shogun and dedication to his work, not out of a desire to injure Yanagisawa. Sano had saved his life, spared him punishment. And Yanagisawa had promised not to harm Sano. Could he repay the good fortune of his happiness by dishonoring their bargain and abandoning a comrade in danger?

Looking up at Kiyomizu, Yanagisawa guessed that Sano had gone into the temple to find Emperor Tomohito. When he did, he would also find Prince Momozono. Yanagisawa took a hesitant step forward. But habit prevailed; a sudden change of heart didn't negate the goals of a lifetime. Yanagisawa backtracked two steps.

Should he let fate take its course, or rush to Sano's rescue? Should he serve ambition and self-interest, or comradeship and honor?

35.

Everything's g-going to be all r-right, Your Majesty."

Head tossing, body convulsing, Prince Momozono stumbled across the temple hall veranda toward his fallen, weeping cousin. Light from the ceiling lanterns splayed his ungainly shadow across the floor; his yelps punctuated the gunfire that boomed from the darkness down the hill. Knotted ropes circled his left ankle and wrist, the loose ends trailing; a cloth strip hung around his neck: The rebels must have bound and gagged him to keep him quiet.

Sano beheld the prince in amazement. Momozono looked as pitiful as ever, but he harbored the force of kiai, and Sano recognized the potentially lethal complications introduced by Momozono's arrival. He scented the cold breath of danger; his mind raced.

"I'm glad to see you safe, Honorable Prince," he improvised, anxious not to reveal that he knew Momozono was the killer. Getting the boys back to the city and Momozono into the custody of the bakufu seemed the best strategy. "Now that you're here, I can take you and His Majesty home."

"No! I can't bear for everyone to see me in disgrace!" The emperor's sobs dwindled to panicky gasps. "I never want to go home again!"

Prince Momozono lurched close to his cousin. He said, "We're n-not g-going with you."