“I regret to say that you won’t be here when His Excellency recovers.” Chamberlain Yanagisawa pushed the paper away, accepted another from the servant, and reinked his brush. “Because I have an assignment for you. One that will take you far, far from Edo.”

Away from the shōgun, who would be angry at his absence, and into Yanagisawa’s power. Dread stole over Sano; nervous sweat dampened his kimono. The elders stirred. Sano stood his ground. “You can’t do that. I report to the shōgun alone. My duty is to him, not you.”

Yanagisawa laughed, as did the elders. “With His Excellency indisposed, I am in charge. I can do anything I choose. And I choose to send you on an inspection tour of Nagasaki.”

“Nagasaki?” Sano echoed, horrified. The western port was two months’ journey from Edo. The trip there and back, plus the work itself, could consume a year—a year during which Yanagisawa could destroy Sano’s reputation, turn the shōgun against him, and deprive him of his position. Yet Sano foresaw even more serious consequences than these.

“You seem displeased, sōsakan.” Chamberlain Yanagisawa fairly shimmered with amusement. “I can’t see why. Nagasaki is a prestigious posting. All you need do there is document the state of the government, the economy, and the citizens.”

On the blank paper, he practiced the same characters again—success, wind, tree—then signaled the servant for a clean page. “You needn’t work very hard, and you can exact a portion of the revenue from foreign trade, while enjoying a leisurely life on the beautiful Kyūshū coast.”

Sano didn’t want money, leisure, or a trivial job. And he knew the dark side of the rich paradise that was Nagasaki. There, the most innocent behavior, wrongly interpreted as treason, could condemn a man to death—especially a man set up by his enemies for a fall from grace. Sano could guess why Yanagisawa was sending him to Nagasaki. The chamberlain knew his propensity for breaking rules and offending important people during his investigations. The chamberlain hoped that, in Nagasaki, Sano would get in enough trouble to destroy himself once and for all. And Yanagisawa’s far-reaching power could virtually guarantee it.

“Really, Sōsakan Sano, you should thank me for this splendid opportunity.” Chamberlain Yanagisawa held his brush over the new sheet of paper. “I believe I’m ready to write the entire verse now,” he told the elders.

“I’m sure you’ll do it beautifully, Honorable Chamberlain,” said Senior Elder Makino Narisada, who was Yanagisawa’s chief crony. The sinews of his ugly skull face flexed in a sly grimace at Sano.

“I have to stay in Edo for my wedding,” Sano protested, though he didn’t welcome marriage and had few personal ties to keep him home.

Chamberlain Yanagisawa smiled smugly. “I’m afraid your plans will have to be postponed indefinitely.”