Hirata bowed. “Yes, but I’m innocent, and so is my master.” His voice cracked; he cleared his throat and continued bravely, “Please forgive my intrusion, Honorable Judge, and please allow me to explain.”

“In a moment.” Supreme Judge Takeda regarded Hirata in apparent fascination. “I understand you’ve been in hiding. How have you occupied yourself during that time?”

Now Hirata’s voice rang with ardent determination. “I’ve been gathering information about the men who have unjustly accused my master.”

Sano closed his eyes briefly in despair. Even while a fugitive, Hirata had not abandoned the investigation, or his campaign to clear his master. For this steadfastness, Sano loved the foolhardy young warrior, his truest friend. But now they would die together, because it was obvious Hirata had brought no material evidence with him.

“Do you know that troops have been hunting you day and night, and that Governor Nagai has already condemned you to death?” asked Takeda.

“Yes, Honorable Judge.” If Hirata felt any fear, Sano couldn’t detect it in the straight line of his naked back, the proud lift of his shaven head.

“And still you risked your life to come here and speak on your master’s behalf?”

“Yes, Honorable Judge.”

A spasm of emotion tightened Supreme Judge Takeda’s stern face. “Inshōteki—impressive,” he murmured. He lifted his sleeve and wiped a tear from his eye. “A truer expression of Bushido than I ever hoped to see in this day and age.”

As a historian, Sano knew how the Way of the Warrior had evolved in response to Japan’s changing political climate. Peacetime lacked the clear-cut allegiances and rigorous austerity of war. Samurai owed conflicting loyalties to various superiors, patrons, and colleagues; myriad pleasures distracted them from duty; self-interest often prevailed over self-sacrifice. During the civil wars that had ended almost a century ago, samurai had gladly died in their lords’ battles. Today there were few opportunities for glory—and fewer who sought them. Many samurai regretted Bushido’s lost purity; evidently Supreme Judge Takeda was one of them.

“Such loyalty must be rewarded,” he announced. After ordering the troops out of the room, he said to Hirata, “You may speak.”

Hirata related an impassioned tale of posing as a police officer, conducting inquiries, and killing in self-defense. “Urabe has connections with gangsters. He has no one trustworthy to confirm his alibis for Spaen’s murder, Peony’s, or the smuggling. Interpreter Iishino spends more money than he earns on gifts for his superiors. How can he afford this, if not by crime?”