The Sword That Cut the Burning Grass by Dorothy Hoobler Read Free Book Online

the governor, as was your duty?”
    “No,” said Seikei. “I didn’t find this man’s story believable.”
    “But that wasn’t for you to decide, was it?” Yabuta asked. His tone was icy. “Are you one of the shogun’s magistrates, who are authorized to investigate such matters?”
    Seikei shook his head. Yabuta was correct, of course, but he was twisting everything. Seikei recalled the judge’s warning outside the shogun’s castle in Edo.
    “You’re wasting time,” Seikei said. “The emperor has been kidnapped and—”
    “Yes, tell us about that, won’t you? Be truthful now and I will go easy on you.”
    “I couldn’t have had anything to do with that!” Seikei protested. “Ask the guard who went with me to the palace. From there, we went back to the governor’s residence.”
    “I have already asked him,” Yabuta said. “He did leave you at the governor’s, but you could easily have returned here by yourself, since you had learned the way.”
    “You can’t believe that! Why would I want to kill these monks? What would I do with the emperor?”
    Yabuta leaned closer to Seikei. His voice was lower now, as if he wanted it to be heard by Seikei alone. “I’ll tell you what I do believe,” he said. “You met this man on the road and he told you of a plot against the shogun. I have heard that you like to solve crimes as if you, not your foster father, were the judge. He isn’t here to lend you the cover of his authority, so you decided you would do this on your own. You took on something that was too big for you, in order to bring glory upon yourself.”
    Yabuta’s voice had taken on a singsong quality, like the sound of a loom when a weaver is making cloth. It was as if he were weaving a terrible blanket of lies and truth to ensnare Seikei.
    “You should have reported the plot,” said Yabuta. “You didn’t. Then you learned while you were here that the emperor was planning to escape—and instead of bringing that information to the governor, you went looking for the scroll so you could present the proof of the plot yourself.”
    “I realized that he had plans to control the emperor,” added the Minister of the Left, pointing at Seikei.
    “What have you done with him?” asked the other minister.
    Annoyed, Yabuta motioned for a guard. “Take these two and put them someplace where they can’t talk to anyone,” he ordered.
    As they were led away, the two ministers now resembled squawking chickens more than peacocks. Seikei’s satisfaction at the sight, however, was fleeting.
    “Because you failed to perform your duty,” Yabuta told him, “a serious threat against the shogun—who trusted you—has arisen.”
    “What threat?” Seikei demanded. “You can’t really believe this man’s story.” He pointed to the ronin, who bowed.
    “You know only a part of what is happening,” Yabuta replied.
    “And I deny having anything to do with the emperor’s disappearance,” Seikei said.
    Yabuta’s dark, cold eyes opened wide. Seikei had to force himself not to shrink from them. He felt he was looking into a lake with no bottom. “But you allowed him to get away,” Yabuta said. “And free, he is dangerous.”
    “I can’t imagine anyone less dangerous,” said Seikei.
    “No one cares what you imagine,” replied Yabuta.
    “I will report to the governor—” Seikei began.
    Yabuta cut him off. “He knows all about you already. In addition to your failure to inform him about a planned rebellion, you have other offenses. I have innkeepers’ bills showing that you ordered lavish meals at every stop between here and Edo. You demanded service fit for a daimyo, not for a courier who was supposed to be carrying out a task for the shogun.”
    Seikei hung his head. He could not deny the truth of this, even though Yabuta made it sound worse than it had been.
    “Wait,” Seikei said. “There was another man here yesterday. He may have heard what I said to the emperor. He could