Jackals cower as the tiger prowls.

—Japanese saying

Paulo

“What happened? I thought the machi-bugyō was going to have you killed,” Asano said once they locked the door of our cell.

“I did, too.” I peeked out of the window in the cell door past the guard stationed at the door. The sound of whistles blowing and guards rushed into the courtyard struggling into armor and helmets sounded from outside. “Something’s going on.”

Asano joined me at the window. ”They are assembling the guards. And they are gearing for battle. There must be a major disturbance in the city.”

Well, I certainly couldn’t do anything about it, so I sat down.

All this excitement would buy me a bit of time, but I doubted it would make any difference in the long run. The machi-bugyō was running out of options. He had to kill me before my grandfather acted. I clenched my fists. Despite the fact bushidō taught samurai to be ready for death at any moment, I did not want to die. I was prepared to die, but I preferred to avoid it if at all possible. My options were rapidly diminishing, though, and it appeared my final moments were rapidly approaching. I took a deep breath and forced my hands open as I pushed back against the panic threatening to overwhelm me.

More whistles sounded, and the ground shook with the tramp of dozens of feet marching in formation. As the sound gradually faded, it was replaced with an unnatural silence. It had not registered earlier, but there had always been a certain amount of noise throughout the headquarters. People talking, guards reporting, floors creaking as people moved about the building on their various errands. Now, all I could hear were the soft footsteps of a very few people wandering around. In the distance, I thought I heard great numbers of people shouting. The commotion seemed to be coming from the direction of the front gate.

Have rice riots finally broken out?

Asano kept looking out of the window but gave no indication he could see anything. He finally sat down next to me. “They’ve marched the machi-bugyō’s forces into the city. Something must be going on. Could it be your grandfather?”

“I never thought of riots and uprisings as Grandfather’s style. He prefers a nice quiet assassination.”

Asano nodded. “That is what I assumed. That means things are becoming critical.” He bowed his head and began chanting in a loud voice, “Namu Amida Butsu. Namu Amida Butsu.” He was calling on the name of Amida Buddha, the keeper of the Pure Land of the Western Paradise.

This would probably be a good time to pray myself, but it’s hard to think with his chanting going on in my ear.

Why hadn’t I confessed when I had the chance? Mother and Gracia tried to get me to talk to the padre, was that why I didn’t? Long habit of resistance to my mother’s exhortations?

My mind wandered over things I had done in my life. Stupid things. Major sins. I had many regrets. The thought of dying with those sins staining my soul frightened me.

“Namu Amida Butsu. Namu Amida Butsu.”

Mother had often told us as children, “If you truly repent your sins and believe in God with all your heart, he will grant you absolution.”

Well, I could certainly repent of much I had done. Believing was harder. But then, was it really harder than believing in nothing?

”Namu Amida Butsu. Namu Amida Butsu.” Asano’s chanting was beginning to drive me crazy. I glared at him.

If I were going to be repenting of my sins anyway, one more death on my hands wouldn’t make much difference. And, if it didn’t matter, at least I would have peace and quiet.

I sniffed the air. There was a harsh smell in the air. Had someone set the city on fire?

All right, sincere regret, promise to never do it again, and say the Lord’s Prayer.

I took a deep breath and coughed. Definitely smoke.

Our Father who art in Heaven…

Something slammed against the door. I leapt to my feet. The padlock rattled, and I heard a soft curse. I peered through the window in the door. The sentry who had been standing guard outside our cell was lying on the floor, a tantō driven up under his chin. Sai knelt next to him.

“Sai?” I whispered.

“Just a moment,” she said quietly.

She removed the tantō from the guard’s jaw, wiped it off on his kimono and returned it to her obi. Then, she felt around inside the guard’s clothing.

“What are you doing?” I whispered again.

“Looking for a key.”

With a muttered curse she stood up. “He didn’t have a key. I’ll need to pick it. A moment, please.”

Her head dropped out of sight. I heard the lock rattling some more. Then, a loud snick and a clang as something metal hit the floor.

Sai threw the bolt and opened the door. “Help me with this,” she said, grabbing the dead guard by the feet. I grabbed him by the shoulders, and we threw him into the cell. Asano had to flatten himself against the wall to avoid being hit by flying body. His eyes widened when he saw Sai.

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“Sai?” he squeaked.

She whirled around, and her mouth dropped open. “Inspector? What are you doing in here?”

He stared at the body of the guard and back at her. “You are Akiyo-san’s assassin?”

Sai self-consciously ran her hand through her hair and laughed weakly. “You told me you wanted to see the real me, so here I am, my real self.”

I looked at them in confusion.

What is going on with these two?

There was no time for that, though. “What are you doing here, Sai?” I demanded.

She took a package off her back and pulled out a rolled up mat. When she unrolled it, the Twin Dragons lay in the center of the mat along with a plain wakizashi. Sai took the wakizashi and stuck it in her obi.

“Your grandfather sent me.”

I knelt down and touched the Dragons unbelievingly. “His orders?” I whispered harshly.

“He told me to get into the machi-bugyō’s office and search for incriminating documents. He said you would know what you needed to do.”

I exhaled a long breath. “Yes, I know what to do.”

I slipped the swords into my obi and stood. “You might want to take the guard’s weapons, Asano. You’ll need them.”

“What?” he gasped. “We can’t leave our cell. That would be dishonorable.”

“Honor is a word with no meaning in this place, but that’s beside the point, we have our orders.”

“Orders?” he asked.

I removed the sheathed katana from my obi and held it in front of him. Was it my imagination or could I really feel the blade’s hunger for blood? “Yes, these are our orders. My grandfather has worn these twin dragons his entire life. They were the creations of Muramasa Senji and have been in our family for nine generations.”

Asano gasped. “Muramasa, the demon swordsmith?”

“The same.”

“I thought the bakufu confiscated and destroyed all his creations because they were inimical to those of the Tokugawa bloodline.”

I gave a tight grin. “They tried, but no one ever knew of these. Grandfather never told anyone.” I let the smile slip from my face. “He has never let any of his descendants wear them. If he is sending them on to me, he expects me to use them … to kill Tokugawa Goro, the machi-bugyō of the South. Once drawn, these weapons cannot be sheathed until they have tasted blood.”

I put the katana back in my obi. “They shall drink their fill today.”

Asano’s face was pale and there was a slight tremor in his voice as he said, “I will defend your back, then.” He took the weapons from the guard and placed them in his obi.

“Wait!” Sai said, a note of panic in her voice. “I can’t read very well. How am I supposed to find the right letters?”

“Take anything that looks like it might be relevant,” I said. I drew the katana, admiring the play of light along its steel blade. “And don’t forget about Emiko-sensei. Make sure you find her and get her out of here.”

Asano and I left the area of the cells and went out into the central courtyard. It was completely deserted. We crossed over to the next building and went inside.

We prowled the halls of the structure, moving swiftly and quietly. I had my katana out and ready, in case we came across any guards. Turning a corner, we ran into a servant dressed in silver carrying a tray. He blanched at the sight of Asano and me, dropping his tray and fleeing out the back entrance.

Muted conversation came from somewhere ahead. Following the sound of the indistinct voices, we walked into a room. The walls were painstakingly lacquered cedar and exquisite examples of calligraphy and ink-wash paintings were framed and hung on the walls. A cabinet containing rare and beautiful tea ceremony implements stood against one wall. Everything in the room was worth a small fortune.

Tokugawa Goro and another man were seated on the floor, deep in conversation. They had a low table with bowls of saké between them. Behind the machi-bugyō stood four of the guards he had with him at the duel.

The machi-bugyō was saying, “I don’t care how many there are outside, I want them dispersed.”

I walked towards them. So intent was I on my target I brushed against the cabinet, rattling the contents.

The machi-bugyō whipped his head around, just then noticing our presence. “You idiot,” he shouted, “do you know how much—”

He gasped when he recognized me. “Maeda!”

I reached into the cabinet and grabbed a stunning porcelain tea kettle. Throwing it up in the air, I struck it with my katana, shattering it into a thousand pieces. “You’re next, Tokugawa Goro.”

He clambered to his feet, knocking the table over. He ran for the exit to the courtyard, closely followed by his companion and two of the guards. The remaining two guards placed themselves near the doorway, blocking my path. The sound of running feet came from behind and three more guards burst in on us.

The men behind were the closer threat, so I turned to face them.

I cut the first guard down with a slice to the left side of his neck that bit deeply into his shoulder. Blood spurted from the severed artery and he collapsed.

Asano killed one of the guards. But, then he just stood there, his katana held loosely in one hand staring at the body on the floor in front of him.

The final guard prepared to strike Asano during his moment of distraction, but I stepped in close and rammed my blade into his lower abdomen. Grasping the hilt of my katana with both hands, I pulled the blade across his body, opening the guard up from one side to the other. He made a sound between a grunt and a wheeze and fell to his knees. Dropping his sword, he used both hands to try and close the wound in his stomach.

The two samurai by the door hadn’t moved, apparently content to block my way after the machi-bugyō.

I ground my teeth in frustration.

Will I never catch my brother’s murderer?

I sprang at the bodyguard on the right. As expected, he struck at my head in reaction. I pivoted to avoid his blow and made a horizontal cut at shoulder level, slashing deeply into his neck. He groaned and blood shot out his neck head-high. Recovering, I took one step forward. The second bodyguard brought his blade around, but I deflected it with the back edge of mine. Holding his weapon against the floor with my katana, I jerked my wakizashi from its sheath and rammed it through the guard’s chest. He slumped to the floor. I flicked the blood off the wakizashi and replaced it at my belt.

Asano still stood transfixed, looking down at his victim. I grabbed him by the arm and dragged him forward to the exit the machi-bugyō had fled through. After a couple steps, he seemed to come to himself. He stopped and removed my hand from his arm.

“I am … all right,” he said. “I have never killed anyone before. I have ordered deaths, but it is not the same. I never watched a man die…” He took a deep breath. “I’m fine.”

“Let’s go, then.” We stepped back outside into the central courtyard. It was deserted.

“TOKUGAWA GORO!” I shouted. “I AM COMING!”