Eventually, they picked up and sheathed their weapons, then stood side by side, watching the battle, uncertain what to say. Hoshina ventured, “Now can I tell you what I learned about the coin?”

“Yes, if you like.” Yanagisawa’s heart was soaring with such happiness that he hardly cared about the clue.

“The coin was minted by a powerful Miyako gangster clan by the name of Dazai,” Hoshina said.

“That’s interesting,” Yanagisawa said, not wanting to admit that he already knew and let Hoshina think his effort had been wasted.

“My informant is a Dazai retainer,” Hoshina said. “He told me that the gang trades in stolen goods. Usually the chief buys them outright from thieves and keeps the money he makes from reselling them. But when the merchandise is very rare or valuable, he pays after he’s found the right buyer. He gives the thief one of these.” Hoshina held up the coin, explaining, “The Dazai are former samurai. They have a sense of honor. The coin is their pledge that they’ll either pay for the merchandise eventually, or return it.”

The unexpected news revealed a startling new dimension to the murder case. “The coin was found with two others in Left Minister Konoe’s house,” Yanagisawa said. "That means he sold things to the Dazai. Things he’d obtained illegally, that he couldn’t sell on the open market.”

“And the fact that such coins were found among Konoe’s possessions meant he’d never been paid.” Eagerness animated Hoshina’s face. “So I asked my informant if the Dazai still had the merchandise. He said yes. I talked him into letting me into the warehouse where they hide stolen goods. I saw what they got from Konoe: antique kimonos, with chrysanthemum crests on the fabric. I recognized them from when I inspected the imperial storehouses.”

“Konoe stole from the palace?” Yanagisawa struggled to fathom the notion of the metsuke spy as a thief. “Why?” Then he shook his head. “The Dazai wouldn’t have asked; all they would care about was the money they could make by selling imperial treasure to rich collectors.”

“But I know why,” Hoshina said excitedly. “The kimonos weren’t all that Konoe had sold the Dazai. He’d been bringing them valuable artifacts for years, a little at a time. But here’s the most interesting part: After selling the things, the Dazai didn’t pay Konoe. Some of the gold they kept, as part of a secret deal they had with him. The rest they delivered to a priest at Lord Ibe’s house, along with weapons and ammunition. Do you know what that means?”

It meant that he and Sano had completely misunderstood a critical element of the murder case, Yanagisawa realized. “Konoe was behind the imperial restoration attempt,” he said, stunned by the revelation. “The troops were armed with money raised by stealing palace treasure.” Not through loans from the bank to which Yanagisawa had followed Jokyōden’s messenger; not with payments made by Ichijo during secret meetings at the Ear Mound. “Konoe’s deal with the Dazai must have been a pact to combine forces to overthrow the Tokugawa. He got the revolt under way, and his allies carried on after his death. Merciful gods…”

“The spy was the traitor!” Hoshina exclaimed.

“Sano and I assumed that the revolt was the reason for Left Minister Konoe’s murder.” Chagrin overwhelmed Yanagisawa. “But if he was responsible for the plot, he didn’t die because the killer wanted to keep him from reporting it to the bakufu.”

“Therefore the plot had nothing to do with Konoe’s death,” Hoshina said.

“I just can’t accept that!” Yanagisawa restlessly paced the street.

“We can’t ignore the facts,” Hoshina said. “As soon as this complication is out of the way-” he gestured toward the battlefield “-we can go back to the palace and find out the truth about Konoe’s murder.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Yanagisawa slowed his steps; yet he couldn’t concede defeat. He devised a fresh theory around the conspiracy, like rebuilding a house to accommodate a giant piece of furniture that won’t fit. He said, “Before, the question was, ‘Who was the traitor Konoe had discovered?’ But what if we turn it around and ask, ‘Who knew Konoe was a traitor?’

“I don’t see where that leads,” Hoshina said, bewildered.

Instinct told Yanagisawa that he was heading in the right direction. “Suppose Konoe didn’t die because he had compromising knowledge about anyone. Could the murderer have killed Konoe because he-or she-knew about his treason?”

“Anyone who knew about the conspiracy could have destroyed the left minister by simply reporting it to the bakufu,” Hoshina pointed out. “There would have been no reason for murder.”

Yanagisawa recognized other flaws in his theory. He had no proof that Right Minister Ichijo or Lady Jokyōden had known about the plot. Emperor Tomohito had known, but as part of the conspiracy, he couldn’t have betrayed Konoe without getting himself in trouble. But Yanagisawa could guess who had known… and couldn’t have hoped to gain by reporting Left Minister Konoe’s crime to the bakufu.

In a leap of thought and logic too rapid to express in words, Yanagisawa whispered, “Prince Momozono is the killer!”

Hoshina laughed. “You’re joking.” Then, seeing that Yanagisawa was serious, he said, “Why do you think so?”

Yanagisawa suddenly saw the personal ramifications of his discovery. He ran uphill to the plaza. There, amid trampled corpses, some hundred rebels still fought valiantly. Yanagisawa scanned the ranks of his army. Mounted troops rode down the enemy; teams of swordsmen battled each priest, gangster, and outlaw samurai. Yanagisawa didn’t see Sano, who must have gone off in search of Emperor Tomohito. Sano hadn’t heard Hoshina’s story; he didn’t know what would happen if he tried to capture the emperor.

Now Yanagisawa saw his dearest wishes hovering on the horizon like a radiant constellation: Sano gone forever; the solution to the murder case in Yanagisawa’s hands, his victory over the rebels certain; a secure future in the shogun’s favor. All he had to do was absolutely nothing. Yanagisawa inhaled the scent of blood and gunpowder as he savored his triumph… but somehow it wasn’t as satisfying as he’d expected. With astonishment, he realized that something had changed inside him. Tonight he’d experienced the Way of the Warrior. The taste of honor had diminished his appetite for the feud with Sano. Deliberately letting one of his soldiers die seemed disgraceful behavior for a samurai general.

Yoriki Hoshina joined him. “What’s wrong?”

Yanagisawa stared at Hoshina. Now he understood that their reunion had also changed him, had altered his vision of the world. For two years Sano had been the bane of his existence; yet Sano had always acted out of duty to the shogun and dedication to his work, not out of a desire to injure Yanagisawa. Sano had saved his life, spared him punishment. And Yanagisawa had promised not to harm Sano. Could he repay the good fortune of his happiness by dishonoring their bargain and abandoning a comrade in danger?

Looking up at Kiyomizu, Yanagisawa guessed that Sano had gone into the temple to find Emperor Tomohito. When he did, he would also find Prince Momozono. Yanagisawa took a hesitant step forward. But habit prevailed; a sudden change of heart didn’t negate the goals of a lifetime. Yanagisawa backtracked two steps.

Should he let fate take its course, or rush to Sano’s rescue? Should he serve ambition and self-interest, or comradeship and honor?