The boat turned downstream and drew up alongside the dock. Its bow crashed into small craft moored there; its hull scraped against the pilings. But the boat stopped. The storm still raged around Sano, yet the world stood still.

Suddenly the boat was swarming with men: a doshin and assistants; two boatmen in wide hats and straw rain cloaks; Yanagisawa’s retainers. The boatmen secured the vessel to the dock and lowered the gangplank. The police untied Chūgo-conscious now, but dazed-and led him away. Yanagisawa’s retainers rushed into the cabin.

“Sōsakan-sama!” Hirata ran up to Sano, his face radiant with joy and excitement. “You’ve done it, you’ve caught the Bundori Killer! Come on, let’s go.”

Suddenly too weak to stand, Sano let his assistant help him down the gangplank.

“Sano Ichirō!”

Turning, Sano saw Chamberlain Yanagisawa emerge from the cabin, leaning on his retainers.

“You’ll pay for this, Sano Ichirō!” Yanagisawa shrilled, shaking his fist. Pale, disheveled, and furious, he looked like a mad demon from one of the shogun’s No plays. “I swear you’ll pay for this!”

Sano’s mind closed against the chamberlain’s threats as a temporarily forgotten longing swelled his heart.

“Aoi,” he whispered.

One month after the Bundori Killer’s capture, the shogun’s banquet hall sparkled with noisy festivity. Lanterns brightened the huge room and the garden, visible through sliding doors opened to admit the warm, summer night breeze. Beautiful attendants, both male and female, served refreshments to gaudily robed men who reclined on silk cushions in laughing, joking clusters, or moved about the room to pour liquor for one another in the customary social ritual. On the veranda, musicians performed songs from the shogun’s favorite plays. Tokugawa Tsunayoshi, seated on the dais, struck a dramatic pose and intoned:

“I am a wanderer in life’s journey

I know not when it might end- ”

Occupying places of honor just below the dais, the Council of Elders, Chamberlain Yanagisawa, and the boy actor Shichisaburō laughed and applauded.

Sano sat alone in a corner, isolated by the terrible devastation that had followed Chūgo’s capture and destroyed much of the pleasure he’d derived from succeeding in his lord’s task. Seeing Tsunayoshi’s quizzical glance at him, he forced himself to approach the nearest group of guests, which included Hirata-his former assistant and now retainer-his former superior, Noguchi, and Magistrate Ueda. He poured them a round of sake and joined in their conversation. He must show gratitude and pretend enjoyment, even though his spirit was dying inside him.

“Silence!” Tokugawa Tsunayoshi clapped his hands.

The music ceased; conversation halted. The guests expectantly awaited their host’s words.

“As you know, this, ahh, banquet is being held in honor of Sōsakan Sano,” the shogun said, face flushed and speech slurred from the sake he’d consumed. “Tonight we officially celebrate two momentous events in the life of this most dedicated retainer, the first of which is, ahh, his capture of the Bundori Killer, who, I am glad to say, no longer terrorizes the city.”

Everyone turned to Sano. Hirata beamed in vicarious triumph. Noguchi smiled and bobbed his head. Magistrate Ueda merely nodded approval, but Sano saw genuine admiration in his eyes. The elders bowed gravely; the other guests applauded. Only Chamberlain Yanagisawa made no gesture of respect or congratulation. Yanagisawa, who Sano guessed-but couldn’t prove- was responsible for his beating. Yanagisawa, the “evil spirit” he might eventually have to destroy. Yanagisawa, powerless against him for only as long as he managed to retain the changeable Tokugawa Tsunayoshi’s favor. From his place at the shogun’s feet, he glared at Sano with undisguised hatred.

“Sōsakan Sano’s deed required all the qualities most admirable in a samurai: courage, loyalty, intelligence, and, ahh, perseverance.” The shogun’s eyes twinkled. “Though I believe you had a little help from Chamberlain Yanagisawa?”

The shogun laughed heartily at his own quip. He’d received the news of Yanagisawa’s role in Chūgo’s capture with great amusement. He seemed unaware of the chamberlain’s attempts to obstruct the investigation; Sano, prohibited from speaking ill of a superior, hadn’t told him. The guests, except for the chamberlain, laughed too. Yanagisawa’s gaze shot pure venom at Sano. With a fingertip, he touched the scars on his lip and eyelid.

“Now,” continued Tsunayoshi, “I shall perform a song I have composed, describing the trial of Chūgo Gichin.

“It was during the time of the cherry blossoms

That evil was vanquished-”

The manner of Chūgo’s demise had so tickled the shogun’s fancy that he’d completely forgotten the doubts Chamberlain Yanagisawa had instilled in him and welcomed Sano back into his favor. He’d even come to the Court of Justice to watch Chūgo’s trial. Now, as the shogun chanted his song, Sano relived the unforgettable experience.

Three days after the capture, Sano had appeared before Magistrate Ueda to present the evidence against the accused. While the shogun smiled delightedly and a curious crowd gathered outside the hall’s barred windows, Sano described how he’d identified Chūgo as a suspect, then tricked him into revealing himself as the killer.

“A later search of Chūgo’s house revealed a list of the names and whereabouts of Araki and Endō clan members,” Sano continued. “I also found the mate to the death’s-head sword given me by the witness whose confidential statement you just heard. And I found deeds to three houses-one in Nihonbashi, the others near Yoshiwara and Zōjō Temple -all under different aliases. Chūgo’s financial records prove that he bought them with money borrowed from Matsui Minoru. When I searched the houses, I found boards, spikes, face paint, incense, and traces of blood.”

Magistrate Ueda, dignified in his black garments, sat upon the dais, flanked by secretaries who recorded the proceedings. “The case seems sufficient,” he said. To the courtroom attendants: “Bring in Chūgo Gichin.”

Sano heard Chūgo coming before the guard captain reached the hall. From the mob outside came angry calls for the Bundori Killer’s blood, and above the commotion rose Chūgo’s wild rantings. The guard captain had gone completely mad during his stay in Edo Jail.

The main door flew open, and the attendants dragged in the cursing, thrashing defendant. The shogun, his retinue, and the rest of the audience gasped and murmured. Sano stared, amazed at the change in Chūgo.

Stripped of swords, armor, and Tokugawa crests, Chūgo wore a torn, filthy cotton kimono. His wrists were tied behind his back and iron shackles hobbled his legs. His eyes rolled; his teeth were bared in a fierce grimace.

“May demons destroy all you who would stop me from honoring my ancestor as a samurai should!” he shouted, trying to throw off his escorts.

The attendants dumped him on a mat on the shirasu-the “white sand of truth” that covered the floor before the magistrate’s dais. Not until they’d administered several hard kicks did he kneel and cease cursing, and even then, an angry, animal growl rumbled in his throat. Though Sano couldn’t forget Chūgo’s terrible crimes, he could pity the once proud warrior.

“Chūgo Gichin, you are charged with the murders of four men: Kaibara Tōju, hatamoto to His Excellency; the rōnin Tōzawa Jigori; the priest Endō Azumanaru; and an eta,” Magistrate Ueda said. “You are also accused of ordering two attacks on Sōsakan Sano: one by a mercenary swordsman in Nihonbashi; the other at Edo Castle. What have you to say in your own defense?”

“They were not murders,” Chūgo snapped. “They were acts of war. Of vengeance. The Endō and the Araki killed my lord Oda Nobunaga, and for that they deserved death by my hand!”