“They say it’s haunted. Someone was murdered there.”
“Yes,” he said harshly. “I know, and so do you. This used to be your home. You lied to me.”
She opened her mouth to protest.
“No, don’t deny it. Your first husband was the Tomonari heir. He died in exile for crimes he didn’t commit. Tell me, did you believe him guilty? Is that why you accepted so eagerly the rich man’s offer? Did you at least wait until the authorities confirmed your first husband’s death before you leapt into Yasugi’s bed?”
She had turned very white. The ivory plectrum in her right hand jerked across the zither, and a string tore with a loud, dissonant twang. She dropped the plectrum and bent her head, hunching her shoulders as if she expected him to strike her. “Please don’t.”
He was unmoved. Life was full of horrors, and he had no time for pity; he wanted answers. He said fiercely, “Your husband was my friend and died in my arms. His last thoughts were of you and the others, of the children. He believed you would stay together, and I promised I would find you. But I found only you, married to a rich man and living in luxury. Where are the others? Where are his children?”
She shuddered but did not answer, and that angered him. He went to her, seized her shoulder, and shook her until she raised her head and met his eyes. “Damn you, woman! You will speak and you will not lie to me this time, for I shall have the truth somehow. Your personal feelings no longer matter to me.”
She flinched as if he had struck her, but her eyes remained dry. “No,” she said softly, “I see that now. I think I knew it when I first saw your face. You’re changed. But I have never lied to you, whatever you may think. You never asked about my first husband.”
“You lied about your relationship with the murdered street singer,” he thundered. “I checked your family records. You are an only child, yet you claimed she was your sister and told me a string of lies about your parents abandoning her for making an unsuitable marriage. You even embroidered the tale by making out that her husband was an unfeeling brute who divorced her when she got smallpox. Who was Tomoe really?”
“I did not lie. One may call one’s husband’s wives ‘sisters.’ ”
That stopped him. “Tomoe was Haseo’s wife?”
“She changed her name because she had to earn her living on the streets.” Hiroko looked at him reproachfully, and he wondered if she was feeding him another elaborate lie.
“Even if this is true, the rest was a pack of lies.”
“It was all true. The Atsumis rejected her when she decided to accept the offer of a common gate guard. She and the children lived with him for a year, but when she became ill and blind, he threw them out. She was too proud to ask her parents for help after that.”
Akitada felt as if the ground were shifting beneath him. If this was indeed finally the truth, it was monstrous. He sat down abruptly on the stone step. She rose to fetch a cushion for him, inviting him to sit beside her.
“Please tell me about Haseo,” she begged.
He obeyed. When he was done, there was a long silence. Then she nodded. “Yes, that was like him. He could be very kind. And it’s good to know that he did not forget us in the end.” She sighed. “I have been angry with him for too many years.”
It was hard to know how women felt about their husbands. Apparently she had blamed Haseo for their abandonment. Akitada changed the subject. “How long have you been here?”
“Since we returned from the capital. Don’t look so shocked. I much prefer it to the company of my present husband.”
“You have your maid with you?”
“No.”
“Surely you’re not alone?”
“Someone brings me food once a day.”
He felt outrage at Yasugi’s treatment of her. At least two of Haseo’s wives had been abandoned to fates worse than exile. Uncomfortably aware of the offer of marriage he had made her, he said awkwardly, “You cannot stay here. Do you have relatives?”
She bowed her head. “Only a great-uncle in the capital. He doesn’t want me.”
Akitada felt wretched, but he simply could not bring this beautiful creature into his household now. In truth, he no longer wanted her there.
She guessed his thoughts and twitched a shoulder impatiently. “Don’t worry. I’m not your responsibility.”
“I wish I could offer you my home-” He broke off helplessly.
“I know. Once the cherry blossoms have fallen, not even Buddha can reattach them. We are not the same people any longer.”
He felt constrained to explain. “My little son has died.”
She raised her eyes in dismay. “When?”
“Four days ago. I left the morning after the funeral.” As he said it, he felt as if the suffocating pall of smoke from the pyre once again darkened the sun, and his tongue tasted the acrid stench.
She was still staring at him. “You left? But what about your wife? Your other children?”
“There are no other children. And Tamako is quite strong.”
She moved away a fraction. “Oh, yes. She will need her strength. Left all alone to grieve the death of her only child.”
Akitada detected a note of reproof. “You don’t understand,” he snapped.
She gave a small bitter laugh. “Oh, I understand only too well. You wanted to get away, to turn your back on an empty house, to immerse yourself in your work in order to blot out the pain. All men please themselves. Haseo did, too. I suppose that’s what makes women strong.”
He eyed her resentfully. “You think I’m pleased? You cannot possibly know what it feels like to lose your only son. Besides, my behavior is not for you to judge.”
She rose, her pale face flushed with anger. “I know your grief only too well, my lord. I lost my son. And you have judged me all along.”
He stumbled to his feet. “You lost a son?”
“Yes. He was my only son also, though I still have a daughter. He was barely two years old.”
“Yasugi’s child?”
“I have no children by my present husband.” She twisted her hands, and for the first time her eyes filled with tears. “My daughter is no longer with me. Yasugi keeps her from me. She’s almost eight, and he threatens to sell her into prostitution unless I submit to him.”
“Dear heaven!”
“I no longer have any choice,” she said bitterly. “You do.”
Akitada was dumfounded. “You mean you have refused Yasugi all these years? But why did he marry you if you had no intention of living with him as his wife?”
She leaned against the wall and hid her face in her hands. “He hoped to break down my resistance. I agreed to accept his protection for myself and my children if I could live undisturbed in separate quarters. He was eager to help and very solicitous in those early days, and I was young and afraid, and foolish enough to think that he would be like a father to me.” She shuddered. “Once he tried to rape me. I screamed and servants came. After that he only beat me. When that didn’t change my mind, he took my children away.” She drew a deep shuddering breath. “I think he killed my son. He said it was an accident. That he fell and broke his neck.”
Akitada sat down abruptly and muttered again, “Dear heaven.”
She fell to her knees beside him. “What am I to do? I’ve tried to protect my children and failed. I tried to help Tomoe and she was murdered. I have no strength left. He has won.”
Their eyes met-hers swimming with tears, his shocked. “Do you suspect Yasugi of murdering Tomoe?”
She cried, “I don’t know. Tomoe wanted me to leave him. Only what could I do to support myself and my daughter? There is only prostitution. Tomoe said prostitution was better than having our children killed one by one. And the next day she was found dead. I think my maid told Yasugi what she said.”
Akitada felt a great surge of love and pity for her. He wanted to touch her, console her, but knew he must not. “You’ve been wronged, Hiroko,” he said. “All of you were cruelly wronged. Haseo first, and then his family. None of it is your fault. We shall get your daughter back and find the others. When I return to the capital, I shall file a suit on your behalf. Haseo was innocent and the Tomonari land belongs rightfully to Haseo’s oldest son.”