“Because one didn’t expect anybody would live to tell,” Sano said.

As he and Lord Matsudaira stared each other down, Sano felt a sense of momentum careening out of control, as if they were two horsemen tumbling down a hill while they fought together. He’d expected Lord Matsudaira to meet his opposition with due force; Sano had armed himself with a long-term strategy of building support and had hoped for a painless takeover, but the attacks were propelling them toward outright battle. His samurai spirit filled with bloodlust. He could taste both victory and death.

“I don’t know what you’re arguing about,” the shogun interrupted, peevish because Sano and Lord Matsudaira had excluded him from their conversation. “Settle your differences elsewhere. Chamberlain Sano, I brought you here to discuss a very important matter.”

“What would that be, Your Excellency?” Sano said.

“It’s a report that you sent me.” The shogun fumbled at some scrolls beside the tub. “Now which one is it?”

Yoritomo reached over, picked out a scroll, and handed it to his lord and lover. He shot a nervous glance at Sano, who pitied him. Yoritomo was a son of Yanagisawa, the former chamberlain. Although Lord Matsudaira had exiled Yanagisawa and his family, the shogun had insisted on keeping Yoritomo. Yoritomo had Tokugawa blood-from his mother, a relative of the shogun-and rumor said he was heir apparent to the dictatorship. Sano had befriended Yoritomo, who seemed alone and lost at court, a decent young man who deserved better than to be a political pawn and a target for Lord Matsudaira’s schemes.

The shogun opened the scroll and jabbed a wet finger at the characters. “I am concerned about this, ahh, situation you mentioned.” Lately, he’d begun taking an interest in government affairs instead of leaving them to his subordinates. Perhaps he sensed how much control he’d lost and wanted to snatch it back, at this late date. “The one that involves Ezogashima.”