Dragon's King Palace (3 page)

A rush of fear assailed Reiko; her heartbeat accelerated. In front of the palanquin rode Sano’s two detectives, and Reiko saw them turn their heads and sweep their gazes across the landscape, as if they, too, perceived danger. Then she heard hissing noises. Torrents of slender shafts whizzed down from the cliff top. A soldier screamed and collapsed with an arrow protruding from his neck. The procession dissolved into chaos as men dodged the arrows and horses bolted. Reiko ducked back inside the window.

“What is happening?” Lady Keisho-in demanded.

“Someone’s shooting at us. Get down!” Reiko pushed Lady Keisho-in onto the cushioned floor of the palanquin and slammed the windows shut.

More arrows thudded against the palanquin’s roof. Shouts burst from the troops and servants, anxious twittering from the women in the other palanquins.

Outside, the guard captain shouted, “We’re under attack! Run forward! Stay together!”

The palanquin lurched, gathering speed, jolting as the bearers trotted. Hoofbeats pounded amid screams. The air whirred with the quickening storm of arrows. Their steel points clattered on the road, rang against armor, struck human flesh with meaty thumps. Men bellowed in agony, then the palanquin crashed to the ground with an impact that broke the windows off their hinges and jarred Reiko against Lady Keisho-in.

“Our bearers have been killed.” Horror flooded Reiko as she looked outside and saw the men sprawled beneath their shoulder poles. “We can’t move.” Up the road, arrows felled running soldiers in their tracks. Horses galloped past the dead, crumpled bodies of their riders, after the mounted troops of the advance guard. Behind Reiko, the procession had stalled. “And we’re blocking everyone else’s way.”

The other bearers set down their palanquins; porters dropped baggage. The advance guard reversed its flight, hastening to defend the procession. “Everyone hide in the forest!” shouted the captain.

Servants, porters, and bearers fled down the banked roadside, into the shadowy haven between the trees.

“They’re abandoning us!” Lady Keisho-in cried, indignant.

Troops thundered up alongside the row of palanquins, shouting for the ladies to get out. Reiko grabbed Keisho-in by the hand. “Come on.”

As they exited the palanquin, Reiko saw Midori, Lady Yanagisawa, and the female attendants emerge from their vehicles. Then screams blared from the forest. People who’d taken cover there came running out, their faces masks of terror. The woods disgorged upon them a horde of men armed with swords and clad in armor tunics and leg guards, chain-mail sleeves, and metal helmets. Black hoods, with holes for the eyes, covered their faces. The men chased the attendants, slashing their blades at porters who dropped dead on the highway with bloody wounds across their naked backs. The savagery struck Reiko mute; shock momentarily paralyzed her.

“Bandits!” cried Lady Keisho-in.

The other women babbled in fright. The captain shouted, “Ladies, get back in the palanquins!”

Reiko thrust the shogun’s mother inside, leapt in after her, and closed the door. Outside, the attackers slaughtered servants, pursued those who fled.

“Merciful gods,” Reiko said, astounded as well as aghast. “Who dares attack an official Tokugawa procession?”

The captain shouted orders to his army. While a few troops guarded the palanquins, foot soldiers and mounted samurai launched a defense. Blades lashed hooded men; horses trampled them. But more attackers erupted from the forest, outnumbering the sixty troops that had seemed adequate protection during peacetime. Now every soldier battled multiple opponents. Mounted warriors circled, surrounded by their foes, their horses rearing; their blades whistled arcs in the air. Hooded men dropped, but their comrades slashed the riders dead in their saddles, or dragged them down and slew them. Foot soldiers whirled in desperate dances, weapons flashing. Scarlet gashes from enemy blades appeared on their bodies, and their garments flew in tatters, until they expired from mortal injuries.

The shooting from the cliffs continued. Arrows claimed fleeing servants, pierced the throat of a horse that toppled, spurting blood, and crushed his rider. Meanwhile, the attackers continued to massacre the entourage. Forest and mountains resounded with the echoes of yells and clashing blades.

Reiko watched, transfixed by horror. “Those men can’t be ordinary bandits,” she said. “They fight too well. And they didn’t just happen to be here, waiting to rob any rich travelers who come along. This ambush was organized in advance, for us.”

Lady Keisho-in didn’t answer. She stared past Reiko, mouth agape, at the carnage.

“The money we brought might seem worth risking their lives to steal,” Reiko said, “but why kill helpless, unarmed people?”

She listened to the other women sobbing in their palanquins, and she worried about Midori, alone and pregnant and terrified. Reiko remembered her wish for something to curtail the trip, and she tasted bitter irony and guilt.

The road, and the grass at the forest’s edge, were littered with corpses and red with blood. The attackers had chased down the porters, servants, and bearers and slain most of the army. The arrows had ceased. Now a few surviving troops, including Sano’s two detectives, fought the legion of hooded men. Combatants darted and blades slashed, dangerously near Reiko. Bodies struck the palanquin; the flimsy vehicle shuddered. Lady Keisho-in clung to Reiko and wailed. Reiko drew the dagger that she wore under her sleeve, ready to defend their lives.

Soon the number of fighters dwindled; Sano’s detectives were among those fallen. Then the battle abruptly ceased. In the eerie quiet that descended, more than fifty men gathered on the road. Some limped, sporting bloody wounds; their chests heaved with exertion. They all wore hoods. Reiko saw their eyes glint through the holes, heard their breath rasping through the black cloth. Terror constricted her heart. The attackers had defeated the army.

“What are they going to do?” Keisho-in pressed her face against Reiko’s shoulder.

“They’ll take our valuables and leave,” Reiko whispered, though an ominous pang deep within her said otherwise.

A faraway temple bell tolled. The hooded men ignored the scattered baggage. Half of them moved briskly off along the road and into the forest, as if to hunt down escapees. The others moved around the palanquins to the doors, which faced the cliff that loomed some ten paces away. Reiko’s stomach twisted, for she saw her fears realized.

“They’re going to kill us all,” she said in horrified disbelief.

Doors clicked open along the row of palanquins. Reiko heard women squealing; Lady Keisho-in mewled. The attackers’ excessive cruelty appalled Reiko. As a hooded man strode toward her palanquin, rage overrode her terror. A fierce will to survive tightened her hands on the hilt of her long, slender dagger. When the man opened the door, Reiko lunged at him. She jabbed the dagger up under his armor tunic and between his legs.

The blade pierced soft, vulnerable flesh and came away dripping blood. The man yowled and doubled over. Keisho-in screamed. Reiko leaned forward and shoved the man. He fell beside the cliff, writhing in agony. Clutching her dagger, Reiko jumped out of the palanquin, hauling Keisho-in after her. They stumbled onto the road. Reiko’s heart thrummed with energy born of crisis. Determined to save her friends, she looked down the line of palanquins.

The attackers dragged out screaming maids and ladies-in-waiting and propelled them across the road toward the forest. Near the second palanquin Lady Yanagisawa struggled, her face blank with panic, against a man who pinned her hands behind her. She jerked wildly, emitting hoarse grunts.

Reiko charged toward them. Lady Keisho-in faltered in her wake, moaning and clutching at her skirts. Reiko lashed her dagger hard across the backs of the man’s thighs, where a gap of exposed skin separated his tunic and leg guards. The man cried out in surprise, let go of Lady Yanagisawa and collapsed, groaning, his severed arteries gushing blood. Lady Yanagisawa staggered free.

At the fourth palanquin, two men leaned in through the door to remove Midori. Her shrill cries rent the air. Across the highway, the attackers lined up maids and ladies-in-waiting by the roadside. One man brandished a dagger, walked down the line, and began slashing the women’s throats. Horrendous gurgles accompanied spewing crimson blood. Women wept, screamed, and begged for mercy.

Sickened and aghast, Reiko turned her back on the awful sight. To attempt rescuing those women would mean losing her own life and leaving Midori, Keisho-in, and Lady Yanagisawa to fend for themselves. “Take Keisho-in and run,” she ordered Lady Yanagisawa.

But Lady Yanagisawa stood motionless. She gazed between the palanquins at women lying in puddles of their own blood, at their wailing, hysterical comrades. The man continued along the row, his blade dispensing death while his comrades watched. Lady Yanagisawa’s body swayed; her eyes rolled upward. Reiko grabbed the woman and slapped her face.

“You mustn’t faint now. Go, before they notice we’re still free!” Reiko pushed Lady Yanagisawa toward Keisho-in, who crouched, whimpering, nearby. The pair stumbled away. Reiko hurried to aid Midori.

The attackers had caught hold of Midori’s legs. She thrashed as they dragged her from the palanquin. The man nearer to Reiko had a rip under the armpit of his tunic, where a sword cut had severed the cloth knots that joined the leather-covered metal plates. Reiko drove her dagger into the slit, through skin and vital organs. The man howled. As she yanked the blade free, he released his grip on Midori and fell lifeless. The other man turned toward Reiko. His eyes glared through the holes in his hood. She lashed her dagger across his neck. He died sprawled in the dirt. Midori fell onto the road.

“Oh, Reiko-
san
!” she exclaimed.

Reiko slid her dagger into the scabbard strapped to her arm. She bent over the man she’d just killed and snatched his sword from its hilt.

“Come, we must hurry,” she told Midori.

She gripped the stolen sword as they fled up the road, past the Tokugawa banner that lay amid the carnage. But Midori’s cumbersome bulk slowed their pace. Reiko heard shouts and pounding footsteps behind them. She looked backward and saw five attackers chasing her and Midori.

“Run faster!” she cried.

“I can’t!” Midori gasped and wheezed. “Go without me. Save yourself.”

Their pursuers were upon them. Reiko whirled, slashing at the men. They drew their swords. Midori moaned. Reiko called to her: “Stay behind me.”

She lunged and sliced; the men parried. Their blades clashed against hers with resounding strikes that vibrated pain up her arms. Reiko had experienced combat before, but never against thirteen opponents at once. They surrounded her and Midori, and she pivoted, desperate to avoid capture. As Reiko fought, Midori bumped her, restricting her movements. She battered at the men, but her blows glanced off their armor.

“Help!” Reiko shouted, hoping for aid from highway patrol troops or traveling samurai.

Her plea rang unanswered across the vacant, misty landscape. Now two men seized Midori, “Let me go! Please don’t hurt me!” she cried.

Desperate, Reiko fought harder. She grew dizzy from spinning, breathless and weak from exhaustion. Her muscles ached; her head echoed with metallic clangs. She heard screams in the distance and glimpsed more thugs hastening toward her around the curve in the road, bringing Keisho-in and Lady Yanagisawa. Anguish filled Reiko: Her friends hadn’t escaped.

Suddenly, arms as hard and strong as iron encircled her waist from behind her. In a blur of black-hooded figures, clutching hands, and violent motion, somebody wrested the sword from her grasp and flung her down on the road. Men planted their heavy weight on her and immobilized her arms and legs, though she resisted with all her strength. They tore away her hidden dagger. Rough, thick cords wound and knotted her wrists together, then her ankles. Reiko saw Midori, Keisho-in, and Lady Yanagisawa lying bound and weeping near her, surrounded by the enemy. If only she’d managed to save them!

“Who are you?” she demanded of her captors. “Why are you doing this?”

No answer came. She’d not heard the men utter a single word. Their strange, menacing silence increased her terror. They held her head still. One crouched over her and jammed a small flask between her lips. Reiko tasted thick, bitter liquid opium. She clamped her mouth shut. As she squealed and bucked, she heard the other women retching. The men forced her jaws open and poured in the potion.

Reiko spat and coughed, but the bitter ooze gurgled down her throat. Hands yanked a black hood over her head. Blinded, Reiko struggled in darkness for moments that seemed eternal. The sounds of the other women faded; the pain from the cords biting into her skin dulled as a smothering cloud of sleep encroached. Terror receded; unconsciousness descended. Reiko ceased struggling, felt her body lifted by unseen hands and carried briskly away. Images of Sano and Masahiro briefly illuminated the black oblivion spreading in her mind. As she yearned for her family, one last thought occurred to Reiko.

If she lived, she would be more careful what she wished for next time.

3

Excuse me,
Sōsakan-sama
, but you must get up at once.”

Sano, roused from sleep by instincts ever attuned to the world around him, had opened his eyes just before he’d heard Hirata’s urgent call outside his door. His bedchamber was dark, but the corridor was lit by the lantern Hirata carried, and Sano saw his chief retainer’s shadow through the paper wall. Sano automatically reached for his wife but found emptiness beside him on the futon. Though Reiko had been gone almost five days, her absence startled him. Sano sat up under the thin sheet that covered his naked body.

“Come in, Hirata-
san
,” Sano said. “What is it?”

Entering the room, Hirata said, “A castle messenger just brought word that the shogun has summoned us to the palace.”

“What for?” Sano said, yawning and rubbing his eyes.

“The messenger didn’t know. But it’s an emergency.”

Sano and Hirata looked toward the open window. A warm breeze wafted from the garden, where a gibbous moon floated in a black sky above pine trees and silvered the shrubs and grass. Fireflies winked; crickets
san
g. The dark hush of the atmosphere signified a time equidistant from midnight and dawn.