“He must have climbed over the wall.”
“Had he said or done anything recently that might indicate where he was going or why?” Sano watched Yanagisawa fuming over the catastrophe and the disruption of their plans.
“Not that I’ve been able to determine,” Ichijo said. “His attendants say he acted perfectly normal; he told them nothing. And the idiot Prince Momozono is nowhere to be found. I suspect he went with His Majesty.”
An imperial watchman ran into the courtyard, waving a scroll with gold chrysanthemum crests on the ends, bound in gold silk cord. “Here’s a letter from His Majesty. I found it hanging in the Purple Dragon Hall.”
“Give me that.” Snatching the scroll, Yanagisawa opened it. Sano saw large, childish calligraphy scrawled upon the fine paper. Yanagisawa read aloud:
“ ‘To My Honorable Family and Loyal Court:
Don’t bother looking for me. We shall meet again soon enough, and then the whole world will know what I’ve done. This is the dawn of a new era. Tonight I shall lead my army in battle against the Tokugawa oppressors who have subjugated the imperial throne for too long. I shall seize the capital and take my place as the rightful ruler of the land. No one can stop me. The gods have decreed my triumph. Until then, farewell.
The Divine Emperor Tomohito’ ”
A stunned silence hung over the courtyard, thick as the sweltering heat. Sano shook his head in confusion. This new development marked Emperor Tomohito as the instigator of the imperial restoration conspiracy, but what about all the evidence against Right Minister Ichijo?
The watchman said, “The sacred sword is missing from the treasure storehouse. His Majesty’s suit of armor is gone, too.”
A woman emerged from the mass of court ladies. At first Sano didn’t recognize Lady Jokyōden. She wore a dressing gown, no makeup, and her hair loose; in the crisis of the emperor’s disappearance, she must have forgotten to dress. Instead of a youthful Miyako beauty, she looked like a middle-aged woman ravaged by horror.
“My rash, foolish son!” Jokyōden cried, wringing her hands.
Chaos broke loose. Courtiers loudly disclaimed any involvement with the rebellion; sobs arose from the ladies. The whole group surged toward the courtyard gate. Sano understood their fear of being punished as unwitting parties to treason, but the last thing he needed was a disturbance in the court.
“Restrain them!” he called to the bakufu officials. “Put everyone in the palace under house arrest!”
The officials hastened to obey. Yanagisawa turned on Right Minister Ichijo. "You’re responsible for this. You put the emperor up to the revolt. You recruited the army and planned the siege!”
With haughty dignity Ichijo said, “I have no part in His Majesty’s actions. If I had known of his plans, I would have dissuaded him from going.”
“Don’t lie to me!” Yanagisawa shouted. “I saw you with those rōnin last night. They’re your mercenaries. You paid them combat wages for the battle that the emperor thinks he’s leading. Where will they launch the attack?”
Ichijo’s face went ashen with shock. “You… saw me?” He staggered backward, leaning heavily on his cane. “But my business with those men has nothing to do with the emperor, or a conspiracy against the Tokugawa.”
“Lady Asagao has admitted that you weren’t with her when Left Minister Konoe died,” Sano said, “and we have a witness who saw you in the Pond Garden immediately after the murder.”
“Yes… I was there. But I didn’t kill him.” Ichijo spoke in a distracted tone, as if he neither knew nor cared what he was saying.
“Yes, you did!” Yanagisawa said. “You murdered Aisu, and you tried to murder me, too. Confess! Tell me where the emperor is!”
Ichijo’s eyes were glazed as he murmured, “Konoe… Merciful gods. I should have guessed…” He swayed dizzily and collapsed in a faint.
“Wake up!” Yanagisawa slapped Ichijo, but the right minister remained unconscious. The bakufu officials herded the court nobles and ladies away. Yanagisawa glared at Sano. “What brilliant scheme do you propose now?”
The next hours passed in a blur. By afternoon, search parties had covered much of the capital without locating the emperor. Right Minister Ichijo had regained consciousness, but continued to insist that he knew nothing about the rebels. A distraught Lady Jokyōden insisted likewise. Both suspects were under house arrest along with the rest of the Imperial Court. Soldiers now guarded all approaches to Miyako; cannon had been mounted along the Great Rampart, and all samurai in the area drafted into service. Yet the local Tokugawa army numbered only the few thousand required to maintain a visible presence during almost a century of peace. The rebels might have recruited more than this, and could launch a violent bid for power even though the emperor’s foolish announcement of his plans had lost them the advantage of surprise.
Nijō Castle now assumed its proper role as a military fortification. Troops occupied the guard turrets. Sano and Yanagisawa, like rival generals forced to unite against a common threat, shared a hasty meal in the private chambers.
“Maybe we already have the clue we need to find the emperor and prevent the revolt,” Sano said, scooping noodles into his mouth with chopsticks.
Yanagisawa drank tea. “Not those mysterious coins? Even if we had time for them, I seriously doubt whether they would help us solve our immediate problem.”
“I wasn’t talking about the coins,” Sano said, “although I have found out that they’re linked with a local gangster clan, the Dazai. I meant the papers you took from Left Minister Konoe’s office. If he was spying on the rebels, perhaps he knew where they planned to assemble and wrote down the information.”
“I’ve already been through those papers, and I can’t recall seeing anything that might be a reference to a siege on Miyako.”
“It wouldn’t hurt to check again,” Sano said.
With a shrug, Yanagisawa conceded, “What have we got to lose?”
When Sano arrived at Nijō Manor, Reiko met him at the gate, her face vivid with anxiety. “I’ve been watching the soldiers march through the city,” she cried as Sano dismounted from his horse. “The shoshidai has ordered all the samurai at the inn to report for military duty. Does this mean the revolt is going to start soon?”
“Yes.” Sano explained about the emperor’s letter and disappearance. "Unfortunately, we don’t know when or where the rebels will attack.”
“What are you going to do?”
At least they were speaking again, Sano thought. A stable boy took charge of his horse, and he went into the inn with Reiko. “You and I will review the papers from Left Minister Konoe’s office.”
In their room Sano discovered that Reiko had emptied the boxes; journals, scrolls, and loose pages lay sorted into piles around the room. Pointing at various piles, she described their contents: “These are the left minister’s calendars, which list meetings, ceremonies, and holidays. Those are his notes on palace business. Drafts of imperial edicts. Lefters from the bakufu and other court nobles. Banquet menus. His diaries include the history of his rivalry with Right Minister Ichijo, insults toward Lady Jokyōden, and complaints about Emperor Tomohito’s bad behavior, but if there’s anything here to say who killed him, I can’t find it.”
“That doesn’t matter. Chamberlain Yanagisawa and I are almost certain that Ichijo is the murderer,” Sano said.
Reiko stood perfectly still as Sano told her about the apparent link between Ichijo and the imperial restoration conspiracy.
“Ichijo admits he was in the Pond Garden during Konoe’s murder,” Sano finished, "and his alibi for Aisu’s murder is weak. As a high court official and intelligent, ambitious politician, he’s the likeliest instigator of the revolt, although he claims he’s innocent and won’t talk. What I hope to find in the papers is a clue to the rebels’ strategy.”