Here came a palanquin. The bearers were the same ones Masahiro had seen bring the three ladies to the riverbank. Edging closer to Yanagisawa and Yoritomo, he waited eagerly to see what would happen.
Yanagisawa and Yoritomo watched the bearers set down the palanquin outside the storytellers' hall. Yanagisawa glanced at his son's rigid, morose face and said, "Cheer up. In a moment you'll be engaged."
"That's what I'm afraid of," Yoritomo said.
Lady Setsu stepped out of the palanquin. She was alone. Yanagisawa knew immediately that something was wrong. She pretended not to see him. She and one of her escorts walked to the booth outside the hall. He paid her admission. She disappeared inside the building.
"Stay here," Yanagisawa told Yoritomo. He hurried after Lady Setsu.
Masahiro tried to figure out what to do. He had to go hear what Yanagisawa and the old lady said to each other, but he might run smack into Toda. Then what?
A peasant family with five children gathered at the booth. Masahiro joined them, hoping he looked like he belonged with them. He fingered a coin in the pouch that hung from a string at his waist. Samurai weren't supposed to carry money-they considered it disgraceful-but after he'd been kidnapped two autumns ago, Masahiro had learned to be prepared for emergencies.
A man cut in front of the family. Masahiro was annoyed, but he didn't say anything; he didn't want to draw attention to himself. Neither did the family speak up. The man wore the kind of fancy hat and clothes that Masahiro had seen on rich merchants, and he acted like somebody important. As he handed over his money, his sleeve rode up his arm. He had a large, brown, irregularly shaped freckle on the top of his wrist.
Masahiro frowned. Where had he seen that freckle before? He suddenly remembered. When Toda Ikkyu had grabbed him, while he'd struggled to break loose, he'd seen the mark on Toda's wrist. He'd forgotten about it… until now.
The man was Toda.
Inside the storytellers' hall, an old man on the stage recited the tale of the Battle of Sekigahara. He pantomimed mounted warriors swinging swords. He performed sound effects-the whinnying horses, the guns and cannons booming. The audience seated on the floor laughed and applauded.
Yanagisawa located Lady Setsu, knelt beside her, and asked, "Where is Lady Chocho? Where is Tsuruhime?"
Lady Setsu's face wore her usual sour, pained expression. The distortion on the right side was worse today, the muscles drawn tight. "They had other business."
Her excuse was unconvincing in the extreme. Yanagisawa said, "What other business could be more important than settling our future?"
A man sat down near Lady Setsu. He looked like a merchant. A peasant couple with six children came in and filled up the space beside Yanagisawa. It didn't matter if these nobodies overheard his conversation with Lady Setsu.
"Settling our future is what I have come to discuss with you," she said. "We need not involve Chocho or Tsuruhime."
Yanagisawa felt a portentous, sinking feeling in his stomach. "You've made your decision, then?"
"I have," Lady Setsu said. "I regret to inform you that we cannot accept your proposal."
Had the outcome been different, she'd have brought Lady Chocho and Tsuruhime, to negotiate the terms of the marriage and plan the wedding. Although she'd expressed doubts the last time they'd met, Yanagisawa was shocked nonetheless.
On the stage, the storyteller howled as he acted out the part of a fallen warrior stabbed through the heart.
Yanagisawa had always believed he could get whatever he wanted. Hadn't he risen from obscurity to become the shogun's second-in-command? Hadn't he survived defeat by Lord Matsudaira and exile to Hachijo Island, then returned as if from the dead? Now he felt as if he'd been climbing a mountain path and Lady Setsu had dropped a boulder from a cliff and blocked his way to the top.
The audience cheered, as if mocking his distress.
"Why not?" Yanagisawa demanded. "Why are you refusing?"
Lady Setsu looked down her dainty nose at his belligerence. "You know the reasons, even though you seem determined to ignore them. Chief among them is the fact that Tsuruhime is not free to enter upon this marriage. She is bound by a previous commitment, as you are certainly aware."
"That's a minor problem." Yanagisawa had to change Lady Setsu's mind. There was no use going to Lady Chocho. Lady Setsu had given him the impression that she and Lady Chocho had made the decision together, but of course they hadn't. She was in control. She was the one Yanagisawa needed to convince. "I can obtain a divorce for Tsuruhime."
Lady Setsu raised her left eyebrow in surprise at his audacity. Her right eyebrow was bunched in a spasm. "People will object."
"The fact that Tsuruhime is childless is a point in favor of a divorce. Would you like to wager that she'll be single by tomorrow?"
"I would wager that you would fly in the face of propriety and break every rule in order to have what you want." Offense wrinkled Lady Setsu's nose, as if she smelled something bad. "But you won't get away with it."
"Yes, I will." Yanagisawa would twist every arm necessary, call in every favor, move heaven and earth.
"Even if you do, a divorce won't remove all my misgivings," Lady Setsu retorted. "It won't change the fact that a marriage between Tsuruhime and Yoritomo would be tantamount to incest."
"Why? They're only distant relatives. People who are first cousins marry all the time."
"You know what I mean even if you pretend you don't," Lady Setsu said. "Considering who she is, and who he is-" Her emaciated body shuddered. "The more I think about it, the very idea of them together grows more repugnant."
Many might agree, but Yanagisawa said, "This is no time for squeamishness." He was losing his patience, his disappointment turning to anger. "All our lives are at stake. If we don't make this match, the troubles you'll have in the future will make incest seem like a blessing from the gods."
" 'Squeamishness'? Is that what you call my objection to such a vile, sinful disgrace?" Lady Setsu matched his anger with her own. "I call it honor, respect for tradition, and common decency. All of which you are completely lacking. And that brings me to the last reason why I reject your proposal. I don't trust you to do right by Tsuruhime, Lady Chocho, or myself. You are not a man to uphold his end of the bargain, should it become inconvenient. You would just as soon throw us to the wolves."
She rose. "We have nothing more to say to each other. My decision is final."
On the stage, the storyteller described and pantomimed the rite in which triumphant soldiers paraded the severed heads of their enemies to their lord. The audience cheered. The children beside Yanagisawa laughed. As Lady Setsu walked out of the room, he felt a rage so cataclysmic he could barely restrain himself from drawing his sword, running after her, and cutting her down the middle of her thin, self-righteous back.
When he left the storytellers' hall, Yoritomo was waiting for him. "Father, what happened?"
How could he tell his son that his plans had come to nothing? How could he bear to let Yoritomo down? Hands clenched into fists, jaw tight, Yanagisawa stood helpless and frustrated as he watched Lady Setsu ride off in her palanquin.
"You'll be sorry you disappointed me," he said as she disappeared. "I swear on my life, you'll be sorry."
Masahiro followed Yanagisawa, Yoritomo, and Toda back to Edo Castle. He watched them walk in the gate, then waited until they were safely inside. What a relief they hadn't noticed him! But he dreaded going home. He would be punished for sure.
Hayashi, the soldier who'd been supposed to guard him, rushed out the castle gate, looking desperate. Although he was afraid of what would happen when Hayashi saw him, Masahiro took pity on the man.
"Hayashi-san," he called.
"Young master!" Hayashi staggered with relief. "I've been looking all over for you. Thank the gods you're safe!" He hustled Masahiro past the sentries, who nodded and waved them through the gate. As they hurried along the passages, he said, "Where on earth have you been?"