Supreme Judge Takeda’s thick brows drew together in a scowl. “You insult me, Sōsakan Sano, if you think I would act on unsubstantiated claims from someone with everything to gain by slandering other men. Do you take me for a fool?”

The other judges smirked. A sense of doom fell over Sano.

“The original verdict stands: guilty on all counts,” Takeda said. “I will now pronounce the sentence.”

“Sano Ichirō is denied the privilege of restoring his honor through ritual suicide. His head shall be severed at a public execution, and his remains displayed as a warning to potential traitors.” Takeda clapped his hands twice.

Guards rushed over and seized Sano. “No,” he cried. “I swear I’m telling the truth!”

This was a samurai’s worst nightmare: to toil and sacrifice in loyal service to his lord, yet end his life in disgrace and dishonor. From the depths of Sano’s soul exploded a fireball of anger at his accusers, at Chamberlain Yanagisawa and the entire corrupt bakufu. He kicked and flailed, scattering the white sand of truth. But the guards locked iron shackles around his wrists and ankles.

“Let me go. I’m innocent!”

Then, as the guards dragged him toward the door, it flew open. A running figure burst into the room, followed by a shouting, sword-waving mob. Shocked out of his pain, shame, and anger, Sano recognized the runner. “Hirata?” His heart swelled with joy, then contracted in horror. The soldiers would surely kill Hirata. “No!”

“Sōsakan-sama. Merciful gods, I’m not too late.” Hirata fell to his knees before the dais and the surprised judges. He wore nothing but a loincloth. Dirt and sweat streaked his body. Most startling of all, he’d shaved his head. Bowing to the judges, he spoke in a breathless rush. “Honorable Judges, I’ve come to plead for my master’s life. I beg your permission to prove his innocence.”

As Sano watched helplessly, the mob surrounded Hirata. “This man got past us before we could stop him,” said the commander. “My apologies for the interruption.” To his men: “This is the fugitive traitor and murderer. Take him outside and kill him.”

The soldiers hoisted Hirata’s struggling body over their heads. “No!” Sano leapt to the rescue, but his captors jerked his chains. He fell with a crash. The guards carried Hirata past him.

“Wait.” Supreme Judge Takeda’s voice boomed from the dais, halting the soldiers’ rush. “Bring him back.”

“What? Why?” bleated Judge Segawa.

Takeda ignored him. The soldiers dumped Hirata facedown in front of the dais. Sano, lying on the floor in a tangle of iron, watched in puzzlement as the supreme judge studied Hirata. Takeda’s strange expression offered no clue to his intentions.

“Sit up,” Takeda ordered Hirata, who did. “Are you the man accused of abetting Sōsakan Sano’s treason, breaking into the treasurer’s mansion, and murdering a soldier?”