The Shogun's Daughter

The Shogun's Daughter by Laura Joh Rowland Page B

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Authors: Laura Joh Rowland
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their shoulders. Masahiro followed.
    Although repairs had been finished on the lord’s mansion and the parts of the estate visible from the outside, new stables and servants’ quarters were still under construction, amid hammering and sawing. Smoke billowed from hearths under a huge tent where cooks prepared food for the daimyo ’s entourage. Oxcarts, workbenches, piles of lumber and stones, and trash heaps took up much of the grounds. Masahiro saw shaved crowns and topknots on many workers. There weren’t enough peasants to rebuild Edo. Samurai who normally spent their time loafing now had to work for their stipends. As Masahiro looked around, wondering where to start his inquiries, he heard shouts, then a loud shattering noise.
    Four samurai stood atop a building. They’d been affixing ceramic tiles on the roof. Below them a box lay on the ground amid broken tiles. Two of the samurai cursed angrily. A third yelled, “Look what you did, you clumsy fool! It’s a good thing nobody was standing down there. Go pick those tiles up!”
    The fourth man, who’d knocked the box off the roof, climbed down a ladder. He was younger than the others, in his early twenties. While they had strong, tough muscles and faces, he had a slender build and handsome, sensitive features.
    “Save the unbroken ones,” a man on the roof ordered. “There’s a shortage of tiles.”
    Masahiro hurried over to help. “Thank you,” the young man muttered as he and Masahiro sorted good tiles into the box and threw fragments onto a trash heap.
    The other men sat on the roof and watched. Disgruntled because they were forced to do menial labor, they took out their anger on their comrade, talking about him as if he weren’t there. “I never saw anybody so careless.” “He doesn’t pay attention to what he’s doing.” The young man’s sensitive mouth tightened as he sorted tiles. “His head has been in the clouds.” “Do you think it’s because of the mistress?” The men chuckled.
    Masahiro’s attention perked up. The mistress—that must mean Lord Tsunanori’s wife, Tsuruhime. He studied the man he was helping. Could he have something to do with the shogun’s daughter and her murder?
    The young man flung the last good tile into the box. His cheeks were bright red. With quick, angry movements he lifted the box onto a wooden platform and cranked a pulley. The men on the roof grasped the box and guided it onto the roof. They continued their conversation.
    “All those afternoons he spent alone with her in her room before she got sick.” “Did he think the master wouldn’t find out?” “Now that she’s dead, he’s really lost his wits.”
    “Shut up!” the young man burst out, glaring up at his comrades. “Just shut the hell up!”
    They guffawed. One said, “Jinnosuke is in a bad mood.” Another said, “His little balls must be aching because he’s not getting any pussy!”
    Masahiro had overheard enough conversation at Edo Castle to understand that these men were talking about sex. Their remarks implied that the young man had had an affair with Tsuruhime. Masahiro was excited because it might have a bearing on her murder.
    Jinnosuke stalked toward the gate, his eyes shiny with angry tears. The other men called, “Hey, come back here and get to work!”
    Masahiro hurried after Jinnosuke. Outside the gate he bumped into a little girl in a green kimono. “Taeko?” Startled, he said, “What are you doing here?”
    “I came to see you.” She looked timid and anxious.
    “How did you know where I was?”
    “I followed you.”
    “You followed me?” Masahiro said, taken aback. “All the way from the house?”
    Taeko nodded. She hunched her shoulders.
    Masahiro was upset because he hadn’t noticed her. If he couldn’t spot a little girl on his trail, what would have happened if someone dangerous had been stalking him? He would be dead. And Taeko must have seen the other pages bullying him. His face burned with fresh

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