Lines of consternation formed above Raiden’s brow. He looked down at the map of the city spread on the table before him. “I don’t know that we can ask our people to help,” he admitted quietly. “We’ve failed them in so many ways.”
ōkami considered the prince for a time. Despite the image Prince Raiden wished to convey—one of unwavering strength—it was interesting to witness him struggle in so open a fashion. ōkami would not have expected the prince to divulge any weaknesses before him.
“Begin with the nobility,” ōkami said. “Ask them to set the example of helping to secure the streets. Demand that they rally under your watch instead of only fighting to preserve the things they value.”
Raiden nodded. “It’s a good idea.”
“It is not mine alone.” ōkami paused. “It helps to have friends at my back.”
“I envy you your friends, Lord Ranmaruo.”
ōkami’s eyes narrowed at the edges. As though the use of his given name had rekindled his anger. “Where is your wife?”
Raiden looked away. As though he were steeling himself.
Alarm flared through ōkami. “Where is Mariko?”
“After she helped deliver your message, Roku ordered her to be placed beneath the castle.”
It took ōkami a moment to process this truth. Then—without warning—his rage overtook him. He unsheathed his katana with a rasp. “Why have you not set her free?”
Raiden looked at the blade brandished before him. A sadness tugged at his lips. “Because I was afraid of what my brother would to do me. What he might do to her.”
“Be afraid of what I might do to you instead.”
“You would not be wrong to seek vengeance.” Raiden winced. “My family has wronged yours in many ways.” He took a deep breath, then bowed. “One day, I hope to ask for your forgiveness.”
ōkami clutched the hilt of his katana as confusion swarmed through his veins. “Forgiveness is not a thing granted. It is a thing earned.” It was a phrase his father often used.
Its truth appeared to resonate with Raiden. He crouched before the table and removed an item concealed in its shadow. When he pulled back a length of muslin, the edge ofan ivory and gold samegawa came into view.
“This belongs to you,” Raiden said. He held up the sword, offering it to ōkami with a curt bow.
ōkami sheathed the blade he’d brandished in a threat only a moment before. Then he wrapped a hand around the hilt of his father’s sword. The Fūrinkazan seemed to warm at his touch. The next instant, Raiden reached into his sleeve and removed an iron ring containing several keys.
“Follow me,” Raiden said. “It is time we right another wrong.”
Raiden unlocked Mariko’s cell, his mind awash with thoughts. His recent exchange with Takeda Ranmaru had caused him a great deal of discomfort. It did not sit well with him to admit his faults. But their exchange also gave him a glimpse of what could be. A future in which Raiden relied upon the opinions of others. Saw the strength in consultation.
This feeling of possibility had begun with Mariko. It formed in the wake of her many admonitions. And he allowed his brother to imprison her. Threaten her.
He was not a husband to her. Much less a friend.
After the bars swung open, Mariko rose to her feet. Shock etched across her features.
Raiden could well understand her surprise.
Before her stood the boy she married. Next to him waited the man she loved.
It should have angered Raiden to know these things. Instead he felt a sense of calm. Of rightness, even in the face of so much uncertainty.
Mariko stood still. Takeda Ranmaru moved toward her, catching her in an embrace. Taking her hand in his. Making it clear to Raiden that he would not accept even a hint of challenge by her husband.
“We must hurry,” Raiden said. “We will need to find my mother. Mariko must go into hiding at once, before Roku discovers she is gone.”
As Mariko passed by him, she stopped. Turned to look up at his face.
“Thank you, Raiden.”
He nodded. Then they raced through the labyrinth and made their way up the stairs. Though Raiden knew better than to let his guard down for even an instant, he had not been expecting it. That was why he did not realize what had happened until it was too late.
The dagger lodged itself deep within Raiden’s breastplate, its tip sinking into his skin with precision. It stopped Raiden mid-step, his legs faltering. But he did not fall immediately. A figure hurled itself from the darkness. The mad screech that followed turned Raiden’s blood to ice.
His brother. Roku.
“Raiden!” Mariko yelled.
Immediately Takeda Ranmaru tore the Fūrinkazan from his scabbard. Its blade glowed white. Roku grabbed the hilt of the dagger buried in Raiden’s chest, trying to tear it free. When it refused to dislodge, he shoved Raiden at Lord Ranmaru, who immediate drew his weapon back so as not to injure Raiden.
The distraction gave Roku all the time he needed.
He turned on Mariko and attacked her.
In the next instant, Mariko grabbed the front of Roku’s stained robe. He lunged for her throat, their bodies careening to the stone floor. Mariko used the momentum to propel them further, their bodies rolling as they struggled for control.
They did not slow down as they moved toward the stairs.
The daughter of Hattori Kano intended to throw their bodies into the underbelly of the castle. Takeda Ranmaru realized the truth in the same instant as Raiden.
He caught Mariko by the arm, yanking her back.
Raiden limped toward his brother, whose body had rolled to a halt a hairsbreadth from the top of the stairs.
“Traitor,” Roku seethed. Blood dripped from his cracked lips. His chest moved in shallow breaths. “You think this is the end?” He coughed. “I will kill you, and I will watch your mother burn. Your whore wife will die alongside her. I will return to the city and take what is rightfully—”
Raiden kicked him down the stairs.
It was not a quick death. The heavenly sovereign of Wa did not go quietly. His screams echoed into the rafters, reverberating off the stones. The memory of his brother’s cries would undoubtedly haunt Raiden for many years to come.
But when the Emperor of Wa stilled at the bottom of the stairs, it was not sadness that tore at Raiden’s throat.
It was the bitter taste of relief.
Death’s Due
Kanako’s little sparrow delivered the news to her in the moon pavilion. It had spied on Raiden when her son had met with the son of Takeda Shingen. It watched when they descended into the bowels of Heian Castle and emerged not long after with Hattori Mariko in tow. It passed along the message that Raiden had been wounded, but would live.
It informed Kanako that Minamoto Roku was no more.
Finally. The ox had put an end to the reign of the rat.
Her lips parched and her throat dry, Kanako listened. She struggled to sit up. Called for help. Called for someone—anyone—to bear witness to her triumph. But it had taken nearly all her strength to move from her chambers to the moon pavilion.
No one heard her feeble cries. No one came to her aid. Why would they?
She’d arrived to Inako alone, many years ago. Disdained any advice or help. Permitted herself to be shunned at court, all in service to a great goal.
Now her son would become emperor.
It was time for Kanako to put an end to the looters and the distractions. Their purpose had been served. Kanako pulled her thoughts into a tight ball deep in her stomach, intent on opening her mind and releasing these souls from their bonds.
But she did not have the strength.
Again she called for help.
Again no one responded.
Kanako wished Raiden were here. A slow panic wrapped around her like a snake’s deadly vise. She could not control the people she’d unleashed on the city. She was too weak. Her powers had fled.
“Help me,” she said once more. Her cheek fell to the polished wood floor, its surface cool against her skin.
“My lady?” a muffled voice broke through Kanako’s thoughts.
Two sets of footsteps rumbled across the floor. The first person—a young woman—knelt beside her.