“The privilege is mine,” Yanagisawa said, pretending he hadn’t just exercised his right to command Lord Kii’s attention whenever he wanted. “Please don’t interrupt your business on my account.”

Lord Kii signaled his troops, and the battle resumed. His retainers moved away to give him and Yanagisawa privacy to talk. “If I’d known you wanted to see me, I’d have come to you,” Lord Kii said with his usual eagerness to please. “But I’m glad of this chance to thank you again for your hospitality at the banquet seven nights ago.”

“An evening’s entertainment is the least I can give such a good friend as you,” Yanagisawa said.

Over the years he’d given Lord Kii many gifts and favors, courting his allegiance. The old daimyo had repaid Yanagisawa by pledging him military support if and when needed. Lord Kii, though none too bright, knew how much authority Yanagisawa had over the bakufu. Yanagisawa had easily convinced Lord Kii that together they would come out on top of any power struggle. Furthermore, Lord Kii was too afraid of Yanagisawa to refuse him anything. The daimyo was the perfect ally: He had wealth, lands, and troops, but no ambition of his own. A born follower, he now belonged to Yanagisawa.

“I’m surprised that you have time to call on me, when the court must be in an uproar over the kidnapping,” said Lord Kii.

“The kidnapping is why I’m here,” Yanagisawa said. “We must talk.”

“Certainly.”

They walked to a stand of tiered planks, used as seats during tournaments, that extended along the field. They stood on the highest tier, in the shade of a canopy.

“Did you know that the kidnapper has demanded the execution of Police Commissioner Hoshina in exchange for returning Lady Keisho-in?” Yanagisawa said.

“So I’ve heard,” said Lord Kii. “How unfortunate for Hoshina-san, and for you, Honorable Chamberlain. Please accept my sympathy.”

Yanagisawa watched the daimyo closely, but could detect no guile beneath his sincere manner. Apparently Lord Kii didn’t know how the ransom demand related to him. “The investigation has focused on Hoshina-san’s enemies,” Yanagisawa said. “The sōsakan-sama thinks those enemies include you. Because of our friendship, I’ve come to talk to you myself, instead of letting Sano-san interrogate you and blame you for the kidnapping.”

But Yanagisawa had motives other than shielding Lord Kii from Sano. He wanted to test his hunch that Lord Kii was innocent of the crime and affirm the man’s allegiance to him. He didn’t want Sano to rush in here and cause trouble that might upset the balance of power. Even if Yanagisawa eliminated one suspect-and one chance to rescue Lady Keisho-in and stay Hoshina’s execution-he would serve his other needs.

Lord Kii squinted in concentration, as he always did when exercising his limited intelligence. His gaze roved the battlefield. The army that sported red flags separated the opposing troops that wore blue flags, surrounded them, and knocked them off their horses in a clatter of wooden blades.

“But I didn’t kidnap the shogun’s mother,” said Lord Kii. “Why should anyone think I would hurt Lady Keisho-in to destroy Hoshina-san?”

“Because of his role in your son’s death,” Yanagisawa said.

Memory and pain overshadowed Lord Kii’s cheerful aspect. “The responsibility for the death of Mataemon belongs to himself alone,” he said. “Mataemon didn’t approve of my allying our clan to you. His disapproval led him to quarrel with Hoshina-san. Drawing his sword on Hoshina-san was a young man’s foolish act that cost him his life.”

This was the official story, Yanagisawa knew. He also knew the truth behind the story. Mataemon had pressured Lord Kii to desert Yanagisawa’s faction and join Lord Matsudaira’s instead. Yanagisawa and Hoshina had feared he might succeed, and had taken precautions.

Hoshina had deliberately picked a quarrel with Mataemon, insulted the sensitive young man, and goaded him into drawing his sword in the palace. Mataemon had condemned himself to death, ridding Yanagisawa of a threat.

“I bear no enmity toward Hoshina-san,” Lord Kii said now, “because I accept that my son was a casualty in the war of politics.”

His earnest manner said he actually believed this line that Yanagisawa had fed him after delivering the news of Mataemon’s fatal mistake. Lord Kii wasn’t a complete fool, but he preferred to take the easy road. His mind spurned realizing that his master had destroyed his son, because admitting the truth would require him to exact revenge. And Yanagisawa thought Lord Kii was neither underhanded nor reckless enough to exact revenge by kidnapping the shogun’s mother and demanding Hoshina’s execution.

“Your attitude reflects your wisdom,” Yanagisawa said. He watched Lord Kii smile with humble pleasure at the compliment. “But people who don’t know you as well as I do might think you bear a grudge and wonder if you secretly want to punish Hoshina-san. The sōsakan-sama will wonder how and when you learned about Lady Keisho-in’s trip.”

Puzzlement creased Lord Kii’s forehead. “Why, I learned about it from you, at your banquet, the night before Lady Keisho-in left Edo. Don’t you remember telling me?”

“Of course I remember.” Yanagisawa rested secure in his belief that his passing remark hadn’t delivered Lady Keisho-in into the hands of the kidnapper. “And I’ll tell the sōsakan-sama that even though you knew in advance about the trip, the information was safe with you because you would never hurt our lord’s mother. But there’s one small matter that might point his suspicion toward you.”

“What is it?” Lord Kii said, looking more confused than ever…

“The metsuke has reported that a squadron of your retainers left Edo a few hours ahead of Lady Keisho-in,” said Yanagisawa. “They traveled in the same direction along the Tōkaidō.” Had he not known Lord Kii’s lack of nerve as well as imagination, Yanagisawa would have deemed this evidence that the man had arranged the ambush. “Where did they go?”

“I sent them on business to Miyako.”

“What business?”

“Why does it matter?” Now a beleaguered expression came over Lord Kii’s face. Sweat trickled down his cheeks. On the battlefield, the Red Flag and Blue Flag armies charged and clashed again. Their ranks disarranged, while their commanders scolded them and the conch trumpets blared. “Why are you asking me these questions?”

“I need to know why your men were on the highway, near the place where the women were kidnapped,” Yanagisawa said. “If you give me a good reason, I can explain to the sōsakan-sama, and he won’t assume the worst. What were they doing?”

He expected his verbal finesse to counteract the offense his questions had given; he expected Lord Kii to answer because his ally never refused him anything. But Lord Kii gave him a blank stare that gradually filled with wonder, then dismayed enlightenment.

“I understand now,” he said in the tone of a man just wakened from sleep and facing a harsh reality. “It’s not the sōsakan-sama who thinks I’ve done something wrong, it’s you.” His finger pointed at Yanagisawa. Indignation raised his voice: “You’re accusing me of sending my men to kidnap the shogun’s mother!”

The conversation, which had been proceeding smoothly under his control, now hit dangerous ground with such abruptness that Yanagisawa didn’t know quite how it had happened. He blinked, knocked off balance.

“I’m not accusing you of anything,” Yanagisawa said, aware of the need to placate Lord Kii and correct his misperception before the danger worsened. “You’ve misunderstood me.”

Lord Kii appeared not to hear. Slowly he shook his head. “I sold my clan to you, even though Mataemon warned me that I shouldn’t. Even after he died because I chose you over his wishes, I still honored our bargain because I had sworn loyalty to you. But now I see that Mataemon was right.” Lord Kii reeled away from Yanagisawa; hurt welled in his gaze. “Now you repay my loyalty by accusing me of treason against the shogun!”