Eerie vibrations in the clear, bright air aroused Hirata’s instincts. He peered along the crossroad in one direction, then the other. An internal compass pointed him toward Midori. “This way,” he said, and rode ahead of his comrades down the westbound track.
The track climbed a slope, then gradually descended and leveled. Cypress, pine, and oak forest narrowed the track and darkened the sunlight. Leading his comrades in single file, Hirata spied dung and trampled leaves on the ground ahead.
“Someone recently brought horses this way,” he said. Moments later he glimpsed deep footprints in a stretch of bare, damp earth. “And someone carried a heavy object through here.” His heart beat fast with the increasing conviction that this road would take him to Midori and the other women, and that he would fulfill his duty to Sano and the shogun.
After perhaps an hour’s ride, a blaze of sunshine through the trees heralded a clearing in the forest. Hirata, Fukida, and Marume dismounted and walked from cool shadow into warm daylight, blinking as their eyes adjusted. The track extended down a short incline, where tree roots protruded through grass and soil, and ended at a dock built of planks. Beyond this spread a marsh-rimmed lake. A breeze rippled the water, which gleamed like an alloy of gold, copper, and quicksilver. In the middle of the lake, some hundred paces distant from where Hirata and his men stood at the forest’s edge, was an island. From its shore jutted another dock surrounded by three small boats. Nearby rose what appeared to be a fortress comprised of white buildings with curved tile roofs, a stone wall, and guard towers, amid woods.
Hirata, Marume, and Fukida gazed across the lake, their mouths agape and hands shading their eyes from the sun.
“A castle on an island in the middle of nowhere?” Fukida said in a tone that expressed their disbelief.
“It must be left over from the civil wars,” Marume said. “The forest and lake would protect the castle from attack.”
“And it’s perfect for a prison,” Hirata said. A smile cracked the rigid mask of misery that had overlain his face since he’d heard the news of Midori’s abduction. New strength infused him, and his cold even seemed to abate, because his search had finally paid off. “This must be where the kidnappers took Midori, Reiko, Lady Keisho-in, and Lady Yanagisawa.”
As he and his men beheld the castle, they saw no sign of the women, but a thin smoke plume drifted up from the rooftops. “The place is inhabited,” Marume said.
Out the castle gate strode four samurai, armed with swords, bows, and quivers. Hirata, Marume, and Fukida quickly hid in the forest. They watched from behind trees as the samurai divided in pairs that marched in opposite directions along the island’s shore.
“They’re patrolling,” Fukida said.
“Maybe they don’t know that the wars are over,” Marume said, “but I bet they’re guarding the castle because they’ve got the shogun’s mother in there and they don’t want anybody trespassing.”
Hirata, Fukida, and Marume looked at one another. They whooped with jubilation, threw playful punches, and danced in a circle-quietly, so the kidnappers wouldn’t hear them. Hirata rejoiced that Midori was so near.
“We have to tell the sōsakan-sama that we’ve found the kidnappers’ hideout,” said Marume. “Shall we head for home?”
The idea collided against a barrier of resistance within Hirata. He turned away from the detectives and gazed through the trees, toward the island. He sensed Midori’s spirit calling to him from that mysterious castle. The irresistible summons, and his overwhelming desire to stay near his wife, rooted him where he stood.
“We’re not leaving,” he said, facing Marume and Fukida.
They regarded him with surprise. Marume said, “But the sōsakan-sama ordered us to report our discoveries to him.”
Concern sharpened Fukida’s expression as he looked toward the castle, then back at Hirata. “You’re not thinking of going over there… are you?”
Hirata clenched and unclenched his jaw. Beset by opposing motives, he balanced his weight on one foot, then the other.
“We aren’t supposed to approach the kidnappers,” Fukida minded him.
“I know.” Hirata also knew that their duty to their master superseded all other considerations.
“You wouldn’t go against his orders?” Marume said, clearly shocked that Hirata could even think of such heresy.
A terrible, sick shame coursed through Hirata. Disobedience was the worst sin against Bushido. And defying Sano would not only compromise Hirata’s honor but also betray the trust of the man who was his closest friend as well as his master.
“We can’t just leave,” he said. “By the time we reach Edo, the kidnappers might have moved the women elsewhere. We might never find them again.”
Marume and Fukida nodded, acknowledging his rationale, but they exchanged troubled glances.
“If the sōsakan-sama knew the situation, he would change his orders,” Hirata said, convincing himself that this was so. “He’d want us to move in on the castle and attempt a rescue.”
“We can’t know what he would want. Besides, the kidnappers said in their letter to the shogun that if anyone pursues them, they’ll kill the women.” Marume’s hesitant manner conveyed reluctance to disagree with Hirata, who outranked him.
“They won’t see us coming,” Hirata said. “We’re only the three of us, not an army that would attract their notice.”
“Three of us might not be enough,” Fukida said. He picked at his fingernails-his habit when nervous-but he spoke with the conviction of a samurai who recognized his duty to voice unpleasant truths to a superior. “We don’t know how many kidnappers there are. They survived a battle against the Tokugawa troops in Lady Keisho-in’s entourage, which means they’re good fighters. Suppose we get caught on the island. If we’re killed, we can’t rescue the women, or even tell the sōsakan-sama where they are.”
“He’s right,” Marume said.
The two detectives stood ranged together against Hirata. “We won’t get caught,” he said. Angry at himself for defying Bushido, he grew angry at them for defying him. “Do you think I’m not capable of leading a successful raid?” The fact that he had his own doubts about their chances of success made him even more furious. “Are you questioning my judgment?”
“No, it’s not that,” Fukida hastened to say, although his expression belied his words.
“Don’t you want to save the women?” Hirata demanded.
“Of course we do,” Marume said. “We don’t want to slink back to Edo any more than you do.” His face, and Fukida’s, reflected the same hunger for action that burned in Hirata. “But we can’t disobey the sōsakan-sama.”
“Our honor is at stake,” Fukida said.
The worst thing Hirata could do to his comrades was force them to break their samurai loyalty to Sano. He hated to cause Marume and Fukida such disgrace. But he feared that unless they helped him raid the island, all was lost. Even if Lord Niu had ordered the kidnapping, and his only intention was to separate Midori from Hirata, that didn’t mean she was safe. That the violent, unpredictable daimyo had never killed a family member didn’t guarantee that he wouldn’t, and the kidnappers had already proved themselves murderers during the ambush. Hirata couldn’t allow a delay that could cost the lives of Midori and their child. And he didn’t believe Sano would want him to abandon Reiko or the other women to the kidnappers.
“The sōsakan-sama put me in charge of this mission,” Hirata said. “Aslong as we’re away from him, you must obey me. I order you to help me invade the island and rescue the women. I’ll take responsibility for whatever happens.”
Again Fukida and Marume looked at each other. Wordless communication passed between them. When they finally nodded to Hirata, he saw that they were relieved to have matters settled for them, and eager to begin the rescue expedition, if still not entirely convinced about the wisdom of it. He exhaled, feeling his own relief and gratitude.