Read Online The Iris Fan by Laura Joh Rowland - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Laura Joh Rowland
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is right.
“You’ve been saying that ever since we came back to Edo three and a half years ago, and the time is never right, according to you.” Hirata halted his steps. “I’m going to see them now.”
His leg muscles jerked as the ghost overrode his will. He resisted, but the ghost jumped him onto the next rooftop. He cursed in frustration. “You can’t keep me away from Sano or my family forever!”
I can do with you what I like.
“I can make it hard for you!”
They’d had many arguments, and Otani always won, but it took a toll on him, too. Hirata’s body was their mutual home, their battleground. Shut up. A blinding stab of pain in his head quelled Hirata’s resistance. Here we are.
Propelled by the ghost, Hirata crept down the sloped roof of a mansion. Below, in the courtyard, were two storehouses with tile roofs, thick plaster walls, and ironclad doors. Outside the doors stood two men—samurai mercenaries guarding the householder’s wealth. Hirata jumped down to the courtyard. Sensing the movement, the guards turned; they reached for their swords. Hirata projected bursts of mental energy at them, and they fell unconscious to the ground. He opened the door of a storehouse with a hard yank that broke the lock. His keen night vision perceived iron trunks of coins inside.
As he moved to pick up a trunk, General Otani said, Stop. We’re going to the palace. The shogun has been stabbed.
“He’s dead?” Terror and hope filled Hirata as the ghost maneuvered him toward the gate. If the shogun was dead, Ienobu was the new dictator and it was the beginning of the end of the Tokugawa regime. General Otani wouldn’t need Hirata anymore.
No. He’s seriously wounded but alive.
Hirata had never understood how General Otani knew things that he himself didn’t. Relieved because the end wasn’t yet at hand, and disappointed because General Otani still needed him, Hirata asked, “Why are we going to the palace? To finish off the shogun?”
He’d once asked why General Otani didn’t just make him kill the shogun so Lord Ienobu could inherit the dictatorship. Otani had replied, Because the shogun must die a natural death. Hirata supposed that was so there would be no complications afterward. He’d always been glad he didn’t have to add “murder of my lord” to the list of his sins. That would be the ultimate disgrace. Now it seemed that Otani couldn’t always foresee the future and step in fast enough to bend the course of events to his needs. He hadn’t expected, or been able to prevent, the stabbing.
“Who stabbed the shogun?” Hirata asked.
That is yet to be discovered.
It also seemed that the ghost didn’t know everything about the present or past. His private channel of communication with the cosmos must be faulty.
It is certain that Lord Ienobu will fall under suspicion.
If Ienobu were blamed for the stabbing, he would be put to death instead of becoming the next dictator. General Otani’s goal was in jeopardy, and he needed to protect Ienobu. Hirata saw an opportunity for himself in this crisis.
“I’m not going.” Hirata planted his feet firmly on the snowy ground and clamped his fingers around the iron bar of the gate.
General Otani’s anger blazed up through his veins. Don’t be foolish. Hirata’s fingers tried to pry themselves off the bar. His feet involuntarily braced themselves against the gate and pushed. Hirata held on tight. Pain throbbed in his head. As he screamed, the windows of the mansion lit up.
“I’ll keep us away from the palace long enough for the shogun to die and Lord Ienobu to be executed for his murder!” Hirata said, panting.
General Otani roared. Hirata felt his brain slam against the inside of his skull. Neither of them could bear it much longer, but Hirata would gladly die if he could take Otani with him. Then suddenly the pain stopped. Gasping with relief, Hirata sagged as he clung to the gate.
Sano is at the palace. The shogun has ordered
“You’ve been saying that ever since we came back to Edo three and a half years ago, and the time is never right, according to you.” Hirata halted his steps. “I’m going to see them now.”
His leg muscles jerked as the ghost overrode his will. He resisted, but the ghost jumped him onto the next rooftop. He cursed in frustration. “You can’t keep me away from Sano or my family forever!”
I can do with you what I like.
“I can make it hard for you!”
They’d had many arguments, and Otani always won, but it took a toll on him, too. Hirata’s body was their mutual home, their battleground. Shut up. A blinding stab of pain in his head quelled Hirata’s resistance. Here we are.
Propelled by the ghost, Hirata crept down the sloped roof of a mansion. Below, in the courtyard, were two storehouses with tile roofs, thick plaster walls, and ironclad doors. Outside the doors stood two men—samurai mercenaries guarding the householder’s wealth. Hirata jumped down to the courtyard. Sensing the movement, the guards turned; they reached for their swords. Hirata projected bursts of mental energy at them, and they fell unconscious to the ground. He opened the door of a storehouse with a hard yank that broke the lock. His keen night vision perceived iron trunks of coins inside.
As he moved to pick up a trunk, General Otani said, Stop. We’re going to the palace. The shogun has been stabbed.
“He’s dead?” Terror and hope filled Hirata as the ghost maneuvered him toward the gate. If the shogun was dead, Ienobu was the new dictator and it was the beginning of the end of the Tokugawa regime. General Otani wouldn’t need Hirata anymore.
No. He’s seriously wounded but alive.
Hirata had never understood how General Otani knew things that he himself didn’t. Relieved because the end wasn’t yet at hand, and disappointed because General Otani still needed him, Hirata asked, “Why are we going to the palace? To finish off the shogun?”
He’d once asked why General Otani didn’t just make him kill the shogun so Lord Ienobu could inherit the dictatorship. Otani had replied, Because the shogun must die a natural death. Hirata supposed that was so there would be no complications afterward. He’d always been glad he didn’t have to add “murder of my lord” to the list of his sins. That would be the ultimate disgrace. Now it seemed that Otani couldn’t always foresee the future and step in fast enough to bend the course of events to his needs. He hadn’t expected, or been able to prevent, the stabbing.
“Who stabbed the shogun?” Hirata asked.
That is yet to be discovered.
It also seemed that the ghost didn’t know everything about the present or past. His private channel of communication with the cosmos must be faulty.
It is certain that Lord Ienobu will fall under suspicion.
If Ienobu were blamed for the stabbing, he would be put to death instead of becoming the next dictator. General Otani’s goal was in jeopardy, and he needed to protect Ienobu. Hirata saw an opportunity for himself in this crisis.
“I’m not going.” Hirata planted his feet firmly on the snowy ground and clamped his fingers around the iron bar of the gate.
General Otani’s anger blazed up through his veins. Don’t be foolish. Hirata’s fingers tried to pry themselves off the bar. His feet involuntarily braced themselves against the gate and pushed. Hirata held on tight. Pain throbbed in his head. As he screamed, the windows of the mansion lit up.
“I’ll keep us away from the palace long enough for the shogun to die and Lord Ienobu to be executed for his murder!” Hirata said, panting.
General Otani roared. Hirata felt his brain slam against the inside of his skull. Neither of them could bear it much longer, but Hirata would gladly die if he could take Otani with him. Then suddenly the pain stopped. Gasping with relief, Hirata sagged as he clung to the gate.
Sano is at the palace. The shogun has ordered
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