White Serpent Castle (10 page)

“If you are speaking of my family, you are forgetting one member,” said Lady Tama. “What about my brother Shigeteru?”

Zenta grew alarmed at the way her voice rose. “Lady Tama, be careful of what you're saying.”

But she was beyond caution. “Shigeteru is a mature warrior, the kind of commander our daimyo needs for this castle.”

Zenta made one more effort. “Lady Tama, when Shigeteru left, you were only about six or seven years old. How do you know what sort of person he would turn out to be? Have you considered the possibility that he is unworthy to succeed his father?”

Lady Tama sprang up in a fury. “Shigeteru is a great warrior! I know, because . . .” She stopped, but it was too late. Her words echoed between them, and she stared at him with consternation.

Before Zenta could reply, he heard the sound of heavy feet and banging doors. The search party had arrived.

“Ume will need our help,” he said, rising quickly to his feet. He left the room and once more assumed the stumbling walk of a drunkard. Lurching into Ume's room, he saw that it was crowded with men overturning chests and sliding open shelves. Lady Tama followed Zenta into the room, looking bewildered at his sudden transformation.

Jihei's men looked shopworn. After the bruising encounter with the amazons in Lady Kaede's service, they clearly didn't expect opposition of the same caliber here.

“Sorry to intrude. Lady Tama, but we have to search every room of your apartment,” said Jihei without ceremony.

“They are looking for a big, fat twenty-footlong worm that's loose,” Zenta explained helpfully to the women. He told Jihei, “I've already looked in the other rooms. There is not a trace.” “I shall see that for myself,” said Jihei, and started for the next room.

That finally brought Ume up from her bed. She threw herself in front of the big samurai, but he simply brushed her aside like a piece of lint. Lady Tama stood absolutely still.

Zenta yawned and stretched luxuriously. “I really think that it's my bedtime,” he announced, dropping down on Ume's bed. He pulled up the quilt and made himself comfortable. Jihei's men, ignoring him, started to open every chest and shelf.

Matsuzo looked down at his friend. Getting no response, he joined the others and made a great show of helping with the search. He was puzzled, however. The white thing that he had seen was long and substantial. It was not a wisp of a thing that one of the women could simply tuck into her sleeve. Nevertheless, from Zenta's relaxed attitude Matsuzo guessed that he had already seen furnishings for the ghost, and furthermore did not expect Jihei's men to find them. But where could the hiding place be? The rooms were quite bare.

Evidently Jihei's men were also becoming discouraged. Most of them poked about rather listlessly. One man approached Zenta's bed and prodded the mats around it with the scabbard of his sword.

The ronin opened his eyes sleepily and smiled at him with alcoholic friendliness. “How did you find things at Lady Kaede's apartment? Was it more lively there?”

“Lively?” said the man with a shudder. “Listen, those three female ogres nearly tore us apart. Do you know what I think? They are not women at all. They are men in disguise.

Another searcher approached. “You look pretty comfortable,” he told Zenta. “I wish I could . . .” “Well? Have you finished?” demanded Jihei. “Did you find any lumps under the mats?” He had returned to the outer room, and his failure to find any trace of the ghost had not improved his temper.

Zenta looked up at him with a befuddled expression. “Maybe your worm or snake or whatever dissolved and oozed through the cracks in the floor?”

“That's it!” shouted Jihei. “We forgot to look under the floor! Here, take up the tatami!”

The tatami, constructed by stitching a finely woven rush mat over a two-inch thick pad, was in the process of being adopted by the upper classes to cover the floors of their living quarters. When Lady Kaede arrived from Miyako upon her marriage, she had brought a tatami maker with her. Under her direction, the more luxurious rooms of the castle were all covered with these snugly fitting mats.

Jihei's men started to pull up the tatami one by one, standing each one on its side. When the third mat was raised, they uncovered some short boards that lifted up. They had found the hole leading to the crawl space under the floor. Each room had such an emergency exit in case of fire or attack. Half a dozen men followed each other in quick succession down into the hole. They were soon heard scrabbling about in the darkness underneath. The rest of the men left the room to reach the crawl space from the outside. A whole new world had opened up for the happy searchers.

Jihei muttered a curt farewell to the people in the room and hurried out. Ume and the little maid looked at him stonily. Lady Tama had already retired to the music room, where she sat reading an old music book during the entire search.

When the subterranean searching noises receded into the distance, Zenta got up and straightened his clothes. Walking over and replacing the floor boards and tatami, he said, “Your bed is very comfortable, Ume. The quilting is thick, but light and fluffy. My only complaint is about that big lump on the left side. Were you in a great hurry when you stuffed it?”

Ume's face was all smiles, making her look like a dried persimmon. Her doubts about Zenta had evidently been dispelled by his behavior during the search. “I was the one who had the idea of using the bedding,” she said proudly. “As I was airing the silk floss for the quilts one day, I had a sudden inspiration. It doesn't take more than a second or two to stretch this shining stuff into a long thin strip so that it wiggles like a snake. And it is just as easy to stuff it back into the quilts afterwards.” “That was why the long white thing had a glistening, fleshy look,” thought Matsuzo. Very clever! The ghastly face with the huge staring eyes was simply skillful makeup. Zenta must have guessed the truth when he saw Ume's reluctance to get up from her bed.

“Why do you think there is so much hatred between Lady Tama and Lady Kaede?” Zenta asked Ume. “Does your mistress feel the same ill will towards her brother Yoshiteru?”

“Lady Kaede is from one of the noble families of Miyako, not from the warrior class as our lord's family is,” said Ume. “My mistress is exceedingly proud, and she hates being considered a provincial by a sophisticated lady from the capital. As for Yoshiteru, he is only Lady Tama's half brother. Naturally my lady has warmer feelings towards the brother who had the same mother.”

“Ume, stop chattering and come in here,” commanded her mistress from the inner room.

Zenta had one last question. “You were the one who put something down my neck in the bathhouse, weren't you? What was it?”

Ume had the unrepentant glee of a child. “I used cold noodles! I'll never forget how the two of you ran around that courtyard looking for snakes!”

As the two men left Lady Tama's apartments, they could hear the sound of Ume's hoarse laughter all the way down the wooden walk.

Chapter 11

 

 

“But it's long after midnight!” protested Matsuzo. “I'm sure the envoy went to bed hours ago. He won't like it at all if we wake him at this time of the night.” The two ronin were taking advantage of the disorder caused by the ghost hunt to reach the envoy's quarters unobserved by the chamberlain's men.

“He can't possibly sleep with all this uproar,” said Zenta. “Furthermore what I have to tell him is too urgent to wait until morning.”

As honored guests of the castle, the envoy and his men occupied a luxurious suite of rooms on the grounds of the inner courtyard, close to the quarters of the chamberlain. His meager retinue was barely adequate to form a guard over the numerous entrances to his rooms.

The two men exchanged greetings with the guards at one of the doors and asked whether Saemon had returned.

“He is still helping to mislead the ghost hunters,” said a guard, grinning. “The chamberlain's men are probably giving up by now, and Saemon should be returning shortly. My master left instructions for you not to wait for Saemon but to go into his room immediately.” Pushing aside the sliding door, Zenta stepped into the principal bedroom of the envoy's apartments. Matsuzo followed him and looked around with wide eyes at the elegance of the furnishings.

In the midst of this luxury, the honored guest of the castle lay stretched out, apparently fast asleep. He was not lying under his bed quilts, which were spread out behind a painted screen. Instead he lay face down on the floor. The upper part of his body rested on what looked like a piece of crimson silk.

Seeing the envoy asleep, Matsuzo shrank back and prepared to leave the room. Zenta did not even hesitate, but continued to approach. Before he reached halfway to the recumbent figure, he suddenly stopped short.

Noticing Zenta's shock, Matsuzo followed his glance and took a closer look at the vivid patch of crimson. In the profound silence of the room, the pounding of his heart felt thunderous.

Zenta drew a shuddering breath. “I am too late,” he whispered. “What a fool I was not to foresee this!”

A piercing shriek ripped through the air. Across the room in another doorway stood Lady Tama with Saemon behind her. In her dead white face, her staring eyes were huge and wild. Then her mouth twisted, and she shrieked again and again.

Men started to move in the room behind Zenta and Matsuzo. The guards in the antechamber crowded into the doorway and stared at the tableau in the room.

“You murderer!” cried Lady Tama, her voice cracking. “You pretended to help, but all the time you were really working for the chamberlain!”

Zenta made no reply but merely looked at her with wide unseeing eyes. Nor did he move when she snatched the dagger out of her sash and rushed at him.

It was Matsuzo who moved quickly. He seized her wrist and gave a sharp twist. The dagger fell to the ground by the feet of the dead man. There was an angry growl from Saemon's men.

Fear sharpened Matsuzo's wits. “Lady Tama, listen. We are not the ones who murdered the envoy. Look at our swords. They are clean.”

Saemon looked up from his dead master and turned to the guards. “Search them for concealed weapons,” he ordered curtly.

The men poured into the room. They stripped Zenta and Matsuzo of their swords and searched the two men for a bloody weapon.

Zenta submitted passively to the rough search, still looking dazed by the murder. Matsuzo was surprised to see his friend so completely stunned. He himself was not deeply moved by the envoy's death, having felt only awe and some dislike for the man. It seemed to him that the chamberlain would eventually receive just punishment for the murder, and the daimyo could simply send another envoy.

Saemon's men finished their search. “We couldn't find any concealed weapon, sir, and there is no sign of a bloodstain on their swords,” they reported, obviously disappointed.

Saemon was supporting Lady Tama in his arms. She was nearly choked with weeping. “He's dead!” she sobbed. “We have lost!”

Looking at her, Matsuzo thought, “This is not just regret for losing a promising ally. This looks like the grief of a heartbroken girl.”

In the pool of blood, the profile of the dead man was haughty even in death. Matsuzo could not picture the envoy in the role of an ardent lover, but he wouldn't understand the heart of a girl like Lady Tama anyway.

Saemon guided Lady Tama to some cushions and made her sit down. Going over to the body of his master, he carefully pulled apart the bloody kimono to expose the chest. They all saw the wound. It had obviously stopped bleeding some time ago.

Saemon looked up. “Matsuzo was right. Our master was dead long before they arrived. Neither he nor Zenta is the murderer.”

“But these men could have killed him and then returned later,” said one of the guards weakly. He was unwilling to give up the idea that the culprits were here in their hands.

Saemon examined the wound with a trained eye. “No, I don't think so. He was not killed by a sword. It's clear that a dagger thrust made the wound.” His eyes went involuntarily to Lady Tama's dagger which lay on the floor, but it was bright and spotless.

A commotion was heard. The chamberlain and his men pushed themselves unceremoniously into the room. The tall figure of Jihei stood aside to reveal the tubby chamberlain, who looked like an untidy peacock in his hastily donned kimono.

“I rushed over as soon as I heard about the murder,” cried the chamberlain.

His eyes fell on Zenta and Matsuzo, still held by the envoy's men. He smiled, and the thoughts that passed through his mind were plain on his face. Things couldn't be better. The unfriendly envoy was dead, and there were two perfect scapegoats to take the blame for the murder. “Very good!” he said happily. “I see that you have already caught the foul murderers. We'll take them and see that they pay for their crime.”

“Just a moment,” said Saemon, blocking the way as Jihei and his men came forward to take the prisoners. “It's not proven that these two men are the guilty ones.”

The chamberlain's air of astonishment was a masterpiece. “But who else is there? Surely you don't think that one of your own men committed the murder?”

“There is another possibility,” said Saemon grimly.

“We are wasting time,” said Jihei. “These two men are violent and desperate. We saw that by their behavior in the courtyard this afternoon. For the safety of the castle, they should be immediately locked up.”

This brought Zenta's head up. The arrival of the chamberlain and his men seemed to have roused him from his state of shock. “In the murder of the daimyo's own envoy, all suspects should be reserved for questioning by the daimyo himself,” he said, looking very deliberately at Jihei. “Anyone tampering with the suspects would come under suspicion.”