Dragon's King Palace (39 page)

The newcomers dove into the water; they joined the crush of struggling riders and whirling boats. A samurai rammed his horse against Sano’s. “Get out of my way!” he yelled.

“Lord Niu,” Sano said, beholding the crazed, distorted face of the
daimyo
. “What are you doing here?”

“I heard that you and the chamberlain and the army were going to Izu to rescue my daughter. I decided to go along.” Slapping the reins, Lord Niu shouted at his horse to swim faster.

Sano was horrified at the chaos that had resulted from too many people getting involved, to the detriment of the common good. The impetuous, hot-tempered Lord Niu could jeopardize the rescue even worse than could the Tokugawa army. This mission had become a race to get to Izu first, as well as a fight to stay alive long enough to save the women.

Inside the Dragon King’s palace, the women listened to the commotion that had begun last night and continued through the present afternoon. Shouts echoed; running footsteps sounded throughout the castle buildings and grounds. Reiko heard the distant whir and thump of flying arrows. She peered out the barred window, as she’d done repeatedly since the unrest began.

“What do you see?” Midori asked anxiously, while she nursed the baby.

“It’s going to rain again,” Reiko said. Dark storm clouds encroached upon the overcast sky. She watched Ota step off the veranda and stride through the garden to meet another man who hurried toward him. They conversed in low, urgent tones. “Ota is talking to one of his friends. I can’t hear what they’re saying, but they seem troubled.”

The other guard hastened away. Ota shot Reiko an ireful glance. Earlier, she’d asked him about the strange disturbance, but he’d refused to tell her anything. She sidestepped away from the window.

“I wish I knew what’s going on,” she said.

“Could the kidnappers be fighting among themselves?” Lady Yanagisawa said hesitantly. “Or maybe they’ve rebelled against their leader?”

A mutiny would explain the commotion, Reiko thought. It would also explain why the Dragon King hadn’t summoned her since yesterday, when he’d revealed the reason for his crimes and she’d failed to convince him to leave the island. Defending himself against traitors would keep him too busy. But another possibility gave her hope.

“Maybe someone has come to rescue us,” Keisho-in said, voicing Reiko’s thought.

“Oh, I hope it’s Hirata-
san
and Sano-
san
!” Eagerness shone on Midori’s face. “Maybe they’ll get us out of here soon.”

Reiko also hoped their husbands had come to their rescue. But if so, what was taking them so long? And she couldn’t feel Sano’s presence, as she always did when he was near.

Lady Yanagisawa joined Reiko near the window. “Might the noise signify a battle between the rescuers and the Dragon King?” Lady Yanagisawa whispered.

“I’m afraid that may be the case,” Reiko whispered back. “Almost a day has passed since the noise began, and we’re still captive. That could mean the Dragon King is successfully defending his stronghold.”

Distress etched Lady Yanagisawa’s face. “If his men kill the rescuers, salvation will never come.”

Reiko nodded unhappily as another unwelcome thought occurred to her. “No matter whether someone’s trying to save us or there’s a mutiny—either one means trouble for us. An attack by the
bakufu
could panic the Dragon King into carrying out his threat to kill us. But we could also be killed in a war between him and his own men.”

What she’d decided yesterday still seemed to hold true: “Unless I can get to the Dragon King, kill him, and free us, we’ll die.” Even though Reiko prayed that he would send for her again, she longed for rescue to come and spare her the need to do what she planned.

Crouched behind a moss-covered boulder in the gardens within the castle, Hirata, Marume, and Fukida spied two peasant hoodlums striding in their direction through the tall grass. Both carried iron clubs and wore the watchful air of hunters. Hirata was glad the island afforded many hiding places, and the sunless day helped him and his comrades blend into the landscape. But he wasn’t so glad that the kidnappers had begun stalking them in teams. They’d lost the advantage they’d had against lone pursuers. Every time they got close to the part of the castle where Midori was, the kidnappers chased them away. A night, morning, and afternoon of covert warfare had diminished their stamina. Exhaustion, hunger, and strain plagued Hirata, as did his cold. How much longer could they continue their deadly game?

The hoodlums passed them. Marume sprang from behind the boulder. Grabbing the nearest hoodlum, he flung his strong arm across the man’s throat. One brutal squeeze, one strangled cry, and the hoodlum dropped dead. His partner turned, saw Marume, and raised his club. Hirata lunged and swung his sword, gashing the hoodlum’s belly. As the bleeding, groaning man crumpled, Hirata saw two samurai sneaking up behind Fukida, who squatted near the boulder.

“Look out!” Hirata called.

Fukida whirled, sword in hand. He parried strikes from the samurai, then struck one down with a deep, slanting cut to the torso. Hirata and Marume felled the other in a frenzy of clashing swords. Weary and panting, bloodstained from minor injuries, Hirata and the detectives beheld the corpses.

“That’s eighteen so far,” Marume said. “I wonder how many more kidnappers are left.”

“Too many,” Hirata said.

That they’d eliminated some of the enemy seemed to have hardly diminished its numbers. Hirata felt no remorse at slaying men who’d stolen his wife and murdered a hundred people, but the ceaseless round of killing had eroded his spirit. He only hoped he could endure long enough to save Midori.

Suddenly he heard movement behind a wrecked cottage nearby. He saw the cylindrical barrel of a gun poking around the corner. Panic lurched his heart. “Run!” he said.

He and Fukida and Marume launched themselves across the gardens. The shot boomed; the bullet pinged off the boulder. More gunfire roared; running footsteps followed them. They sprinted, crouching low to the ground, through trees that screened the castle from the lake, which rippled like gray lava. Halted at the shoreline, they looked desperately around for somewhere to hide. At the water’s edge, tall reeds waved in the breeze. Low, sooty clouds scudded over the woods and hills on the mainland. Hirata, Marume, and Fukida plowed through the reeds, into water up to their thighs. They crouched in the cover of the reeds.

Two samurai burst from the forest. Each carried an arquebus; containers for gunpowder and bullets dangled at their waists. They paused to survey the area. Their gazes bypassed the spot where Hirata and the detectives waited in motionless suspense. Then they retreated into the forest. Hirata and his comrades exchanged a look that expressed more apprehension than relief.

“That they’re using guns now means they’ve given up trying to capture us,” Hirata said. “They’re shooting to kill.”

“Our close calls are getting closer every time,” Fukida said.

“We can’t keep this up forever,” Marume said. “Eventually they’ll get us.”

Hirata couldn’t deny that likelihood. But he said bravely, “We don’t have to keep this up forever. Just long enough to reduce the castle’s defense and smuggle out the women.”

30

Time on the island crept at an agonizing, relentless pace, through a cold night, a bleak dawn, and a day of intermittent storms. Now another night descended. Gunshots blared closer to the palace with each passing hour. Inside the women’s room, the baby wailed in Midori’s arms.

“The shooting frightens her,” Midori said. “I wish it would stop.”

Keisho-in and Lady Yanagisawa, bundled in quilts against the night chill, looked up at the window. Their anxious faces shone white in the moonlight. Reiko stirred in her own quilt. She understood how samurai women must have felt during wartime, anxiously waiting while men fought. What she wished for was one chance to slay the Dragon King. But two days had passed since she’d seen him. What effect would the attack have on his demented mind? Instead of summoning her for another erotic tryst, would he order his men to kill her and her friends?

More gunfire resounded. As Midori and Keisho-in cried out and the baby shrieked, the door opened. Ota stood at the threshold. His hostile eyes flashed at Reiko.

“My master wants to see you,” he said.

Anticipation and dread melded inside Reiko. As she rose and walked toward Ota, she felt herself embarking on a course that would decide her destiny, tonight.

Ota pointed at the other women. “Behave yourselves while I’m gone.”

He cut an ominous glance at the baby, then positioned Reiko against the wall of the corridor outside the room. He held the blade of his sword to her throat while he closed the door and rammed the metal beam through the latches. Evidently, he intended to leave her friends alone; he didn’t call other men to guard them. Reiko wondered why the sudden lapse in security. But whatever the reason, she was glad, because if she managed to kill the Dragon King, she could liberate the other women.

Ota walked her along the roofed, open passageway that connected the castle buildings and traversed a garden. Reiko looked for the men who usually loitered around the castle, which seemed eerily deserted. Through a screen of tall, tangled shrubs on her left she spied two guards hurrying past. Between them they carried a long, limp bundle. Reiko’s eyes widened: The bundle appeared to be a dead body. She deduced why the guards were absent.

Someone was killing them off.

Ota propelled her through a door to the palace. As they climbed the stairs, she heard the Dragon King say, “Haven’t you caught the intruders yet?”

“No, master,” said another man’s voice, more distant.

“How can they keep killing our men when there are only three of them and so many of us?” the Dragon King demanded. “How can they evade you on this tiny island?”

“I’m sorry to say they’re very clever,” the other man said. “But we’ve managed to keep them away from the women’s quarters, where they’re trying to go.”

Jubilation surged within Reiko. Someone really was trying to rescue her! Immediately, doubts eclipsed happiness. Could the rescuers prevail against the Dragon King’s army?

“Perhaps we should move to a safer place?” said the man.

“There is nowhere safer,” the Dragon King said, “And I won’t be chased off by anyone, nor change my plans.”

Ota thrust her into the chamber. The Dragon King stood on the balcony, his back to the door. The brocade dragon on his kimono snarled at Reiko. “Keep hunting the intruders,” he said to someone outside. “Don’t let them near the prisoners or off the island.”

He turned, spied Reiko, and said to Ota, “Go help catch the invaders.” Although Ota objected, the Dragon King waved him away. He departed with a scowl at Reiko. As the Dragon King advanced on her, she tried to smile, though quaking with anxiety. It was more important than ever for her plan to succeed. She must help the rescuers by slaying the Dragon King before he killed them. She must get herself and her friends out of the palace, which his men had so far managed to defend.

“Greetings, Anemone,” the Dragon King said.

His manner was preoccupied, his attention divided between Reiko and his troubles. She drew a deep breath for courage, then stepped close to him and began the dangerous seduction by which she hoped to win her liberty.

“What’s wrong, my lord?” she said, feigning concern about him.

“Nothing that need trouble you,” he said curtly.

Reiko tried to forget all the perils she risked, and the husband that her actions would betray. She loosened her sash and let Anemone’s silk robes slip down her shoulders in alluring fashion. She spoke sweetly through nausea that rose in her throat: “Is there something I can do to help?”

Affection relaxed the Dragon King’s tense face. Desire rekindled in his gaze as he looked down at her bared skin. “Your presence is enough to ease my mind.”

“When so much time passed and you didn’t send for me, I was afraid something had happened,” Reiko said. “I was afraid we would never see each other again.”

“My apologies for ignoring you so long, Anemone,” the Dragon King said. “I had business to attend to. There’s no reason for fear. Everything is under control.”

But even as the Dragon King spoke, another gunshot roared somewhere on the island. He swiveled his head to look outside at the wind-tossed trees and dark sky beyond the balcony. He turned back to Reiko and attempted a reassuring smile.

“Come, let’s have a drink,” he said.

He’d already been drinking, Reiko noticed from the smell of his breath. They knelt side by side at the table, and he poured two cups of sake from the decanter. While she sipped hers, he downed his in one quick gulp. She poured him another, hoping he would drink much more, dull his wits, and weaken himself.

“Do you feel better now?” he said.

“Much better, my lord.” Reiko watched him drain the cup again. “But I sense evil influences in the air.” She shivered, glancing nervously around. She began spinning a line of words that would bring him under her power: “The forces that would separate us are gaining strength. I fear that our time together is short.”

“We have all the time in the world, Anemone,” the Dragon King said.

Yet Reiko heard a qualm of uncertainty beneath his confident tone: He was following where she wanted to lead him. She said, “But we mortals can never be sure of the future. Our lives might end at any moment. And then we’ll never enjoy all the pleasures we postponed.”

The Dragon King frowned, nodding as if absorbing her speech, yet wondering at its significance.

“I want you to make love to me.” Reiko’s voice cracked as she spoke the words that she never wanted to say to any man except Sano. “I want us to be together—before it’s too late.”

His lips parted as he stared in awe at her bold proposition. She heard his breathing grow loud and rapid, saw the pupils of his eyes dilate. But a strange, fearful reluctance stayed him. Slowly he shook his head.

“We must wait until Hoshina has paid for the harm he did us,” he said.