The lid of his desk lay open; he’d taken the gun out while Sano was watching Abbot Liu Yun. Deploring his lack of foresight, Sano let both swords clatter to the floor. He’d known the smugglers had access to guns. He should have expected the cowardly Iishino to own one. He should have killed Iishino when he’d had the chance!

“Put the gun down, Iishino.” Sano’s voice sounded thin in his own ears. Hirata and Takeda were still battling Nirin and three guards; the other retainers lay dead. Now a core of angry determination hardened within Sano’s fear. The venal, corrupt interpreter was a ruthless killer. Sano refused to let him win. Though unarmed, he still had his wits to match against the interpreter’s advantage. He stepped forward and said evenly, “My men will defeat yours. Kill me, and they’ll be witnesses. You won’t escape. So put the gun down.”

As Iishino cowered in the niche, his gaze slid back and forth; his mouth worked. Yet he kept the gun aimed at Sano. With his left hand, he reached inside the desk and grabbed his account book—a narrow sheaf of paper bound in black silk and tied with scarlet cord. Tucking this in his sash, he stood. “Move, or I’ll shoot!”

He thrust the gun forward in both hands. Sano leapt back. Iishino sidled out of the niche and toward the door. Sano eyed the gun’s firing mechanism, a raised clamp holding a pointed flint that would ignite the powder when the trigger was pulled. “Guns aren’t as reliable as swords, Iishino,” Sano said. Swallowing panic, he followed the interpreter. “The powder may not light.” It was a common problem. “And you only get one shot.” Guns recoiled when fired; even at close range, the bullet could miss its target.

Iishino giggled. “This is a very superior gun. It belonged to Director Spaen. It fires every time, every time—he showed me. Don’t come any closer, I’m warning you.”

His voice had a hysterical pitch. The gun shook wildly. As Sano imagined death exploding from the barrel’s round, black opening, his heart thudded. He hurried to calm the interpreter.

“Iishino, why did you smuggle?” he asked, knowing that criminals often liked to justify their actions.

“I had no choice, no choice.” As Sano had hoped, Iishino’s voice leveled; the gun steadied, and he slowed his backward flight to the door. “Governor Nagai made a secret deal with the barbarians. He told me to arrange everything.” When Sano moved closer, he flinched. “Get away from me!”

Sano hastily obeyed. Iishino babbled, “How could I refuse Governor Nagai? I would lose my position. Besides, he pays me very well, and I need the money. It’s very expensive to be always buying gifts for my superiors. It’s not enough to do them services.”

“Services like helping to frame me?” Sano interjected.