Read Samurai's Wife for Free Online

trees and rooftops were visible. Opposite, fences bounded the estates of court nobles. A right turn led along another wall, through another gate, and Sano found himself transported to a time eight hundred years past.

An eerie calm lay over the Imperial Palace's famous Pond Garden. The lake spread like spilled quicksilver around islands, its surface overlaid with water lilies. Mandarin ducks roosted on a beach of black stones. Over beds of bright chrysanthemums, irises, and poppies, hummingbirds darted. Maple, cherry, and plum trees and bamboo stood resplendent in lush green leaf. The shrilling cicadas and tinkle of wind chimes, the scent of flowers and grass, the water and heat: all crystallized summer's timeless essence. In the distance, drooping willows screened villas built in ancient style-raised on low stilts, connected by covered corridors. Sano saw no one except a gardener raking leaves. From within the palace walls, the hills seemed closer, giving the illusion that the surrounding city didn't exist.

Awed to walk this sacred ground where the descendants of the Shinto gods lived, Sano trod respectfully; his men followed suit. Yoriki Hoshina marched down the gravel paths as if he belonged there: the shoshidai's representatives had supreme authority over the palace. He led the way across a stone bridge to the pond's largest island. There, shaded by pines, stood a tiny cottage built of rough cypress planks. Bamboo mullions latticed the window.

"This is where Left Minister Konoe was found," Hoshina said, pointing at the foot of the cottage steps.

"How did he die?" Sano asked.

"The shoshidai wasn't notified until the body had been prepared for the funeral, so all my knowledge comes from the report issued by the Imperial Court several days later," Hoshina said. "That's a violation of the law-we're supposed to be informed immediately of all deaths in the palace. The court physician examined Konoe and said that he'd hemorrhaged almost all of his blood out his eyes, ears, nose, mouth, and anus. Apparently the internal organs had ruptured. And he was as limp as a rag because so many bones had been broken. But the doctor couldn't determine the cause of this condition. There were no bruises or any other wounds on the body."

Such a bizarre death couldn't have been natural, and the delayed notification implied a cover-up, with murder the likely reason. As a possible explanation for Left Minister Konoe's symptoms occurred to Sano, he felt a sudden apprehension. This could be a complex, dangerous case.

"Did anyone report a very loud, powerful scream at the time of Konoe's death?" Sano asked.

Hoshina regarded Sano with surprise. "How did you know? People all over Miyako heard it; I did myself, all the way from across town. It was... unearthly." A shiver passed over the yoriki. "Whatever happened to Konoe must have been extremely painful to produce such a scream from him."

Sano had a different interpretation for the scream, which confirmed his suspicions. "Left Minister Konoe must have been a victim of murder by kiai," he said. Combat without physical contact; the ultimate expression of the martial arts. "The scream was a `spirit cry'-a burst of pure mental energy, concentrated in the voice of the killer."

Hoshina and the detectives stared at Sano in astonishment. That few samurai ever attained the ability to kill without weapons, by force of will alone, had made the practitioners of kiaijutsu the rarest, most fearsome and deadly warriors throughout history. The killer's presence, mighty and monstrous, seemed to darken the tranquil garden, and Sano knew his companions sensed it too.

Then Yoriki Hoshina chuckled. "I've never heard of anyone actually killed by a scream. That theory sounds like superstition to me," he said, expressing the modern skepticism that relegated amazing feats of martial arts to the realm of myth.

Sano had suspected that Hoshina might not be as compliant as he'd first seemed. Now he knew that Hoshina had