The Iris Fan (30 page)

“What’s going on here?” Sano asked.

Yanagisawa and Yoshisato looked up; their faces were aglow with excitement, resolute with purpose. “We’re planning to invade Edo Castle,” Yanagisawa said.

Astonishment silenced Sano. This was wrong for so many reasons! Yanagisawa smiled thinly at his expression. “Did you swallow your tongue?”

“We’re going to capture the castle, kill Lord Ienobu, and seize the dictatorship,” Yoshisato said. “His allies will fall into line with us. Or would you rather we wait like ducks on a pond for his army to blast us out of the water?”

Sano forbore to point out the dishonor of attacking the seat of the regime they were duty-bound to serve. Yanagisawa didn’t care about that. Nor did he or Yoshisato apparently care that they were taking a huge risk. “In case you’ve forgotten, the shogun is inside Edo Castle.” Sano reminded Yoshisato, “You’re supposed to be his son, in case you’ve forgotten that, too. Attack the castle, and he could be killed.”

“My father has disowned me. We’re nothing to each other.” Yoshisato spoke in a strange tone of voice, with a sidelong glance at Yanagisawa. “If he dies during the invasion, he’ll be just another casualty of war.”

It was no more use appealing to Yanagisawa’s feelings, but Sano tried. “The shogun has been your friend for more than twenty years.”
And your lover for some of them.
“Would you really fight a war around him while he’s helpless in bed? Have you no loyalty at all?”

“Loyalty is beside the point,” Yanagisawa said, more impatient with than offended by Sano’s criticism. “The shogun is done for. He may be dead even as we speak. I haven’t been able to get any more news about his condition. But you can bet that if he’s still alive, Lord Ienobu will hurry him into the grave. He’s already tried to assassinate him once.”

“It looks as if Lord Ienobu isn’t responsible for the stabbing,” Sano said.

“Oh?” Yoshisato said. “What did you learn from Tomoe and Lord Yoshimune?”

Startled, Yanagisawa said, “You went to see them?”

“Yes,” Sano said.

“When was this?”

“Just now.” Sano explained about the bloodstained socks. “Tomoe admitted they’re hers, but she and Lord Yoshimune still claim she’s innocent and they were framed. Then I found this in her room.” Sano produced the letter, handed it to Yoshisato.

After Yoshisato read it aloud, Yanagisawa exclaimed in fury, “You sneaked behind my back to follow a clue that pointed to someone other than Lord Ienobu? And you criticize
my
loyalty?”

“I didn’t sneak,” Sano said. “Yoshisato gave me permission.”

Yanagisawa turned to glare at Yoshisato, who nodded coolly and asked Sano, “What happened with Lord Yoshimune?”

Sano explained. “He accused me of fabricating the evidence and trying to blackmail him into joining our faction. He threw me out.”

“You should have tried.” Yoshisato’s lack of surprise told Sano that really was why Yoshisato had let him pursue a line of inquiry that seemed counter to his and Yanagisawa’s interests—to force Lord Yoshimune’s allegiance.

“Did you plant the letter in his estate?” Sano asked.

“No. It wouldn’t have been a bad idea, but I couldn’t have gotten in there.” Yoshisato sounded truthful; Sano believed him.

Yanagisawa’s anger encompassed both Sano and Yoshisato. “Never go behind my back again.” He jabbed his finger at Sano. “Keep quiet about this.”

“The shogun deserves to know what’s happening with the investigation,” Sano said.

“How are you going to tell him? Lord Ienobu won’t let you in the palace.” Yanagisawa said impatiently, “Enough of this. We have an invasion to plan.” He turned to the generals, who’d been eavesdropping while they pretended to study the map.

“I’m opposed to the invasion,” Sano said.

“It’s not up to you,” Yanagisawa said.

“We’re allies. I should have a say.”

Yanagisawa laughed scornfully. “You should have remembered that we were allies when you discredited Madam Chizuru’s confession. If you’d left well enough alone, Lord Ienobu wouldn’t be a problem now.”

“Don’t go through with it,” Sano said with increasing desperation.

“Skip the speech about honor. If you want to demonstrate honor, save it for the battle. In the meantime, if you’re not going to help with the plans, go prepare for your son’s wedding.”

*   *   *

TEMPLE BELLS RANG
the hour of the dog. Their discordant peals echoed across the dark, misty city and sank into the anxious hush that engulfed the wedding party assembled in a small reception chamber at the Mori estate. Sano, Reiko, and Magistrate Ueda, Akiko, Midori, Taeko, and Detective Marume knelt in a row on the right side of the alcove decorated with a scroll that bore the names of Shinto deities and an altar that held rice cakes and a jar of sake. A Shinto priest in a white robe and tall white cap, and the estate’s female housekeeper, knelt in front of the alcove, near a dais on which stood a miniature pine and plum tree and bamboo grove in a flat porcelain dish, and the statues of a hare and a crane—symbols of longevity, pliancy, and fidelity. On the alcove’s left side, Yanagisawa knelt by his wife. Lord Mori sat behind Kikuko, the bride, in the center of the room. Kikuko wore a white silk kimono; a long white drape covered her face and hair. The place beside her, reserved for the groom, was vacant.

Yanagisawa leveled a warning gaze at Sano. “Your son had better show up.”

“He will,” Sano said curtly.

Reiko twisted her cold, damp hands under her sleeves. She was horrified by Masahiro’s deliberate flouting of authority, furious at him because unless he honored the bargain Sano had made, his family would lose their alliance with Yanagisawa and be thrown to Lord Ienobu like meat to a wolf. But she was even more furious at Sano. She couldn’t help hoping Masahiro would stay away. She wanted to shake Sano and curse him for getting them into this.

Sano sat there, impervious to her thoughts. Reiko remembered their own wedding, and her heart ached. She’d been so young and innocent, so fearful of marriage yet so hopeful for happiness. Now, after almost nineteen years together, the bridegroom she’d fallen in love with had sold their son into this travesty of a marriage. Everything about it was wrong. A proper wedding required two priests instead of just the one who resided at the Mori estate, and two Shinto shrine attendants instead of the housekeeper. But the troops outside wouldn’t let anybody enter the estate. The incorrect procedure seemed to put the final seal of doom on Masahiro. Reiko had wanted so much better for him! Her anger at Sano flared so hotly, she thought that if she looked directly at him she would catch on fire.

Magistrate Ueda regarded her with the helpless sorrow of a parent who cannot ease his child’s pain. Midori wore the same expression as she watched Taeko. Taeko had begged to attend the wedding, but her eyes were red and puffy from crying. Lady Yanagisawa sat so stiffly that the body inside her drab maroon silk kimono could have been made of stone. Her flat, homely face was still, except for her eyes; they darted as if chasing unruly thoughts between her husband, Kikuko, and Reiko. Her rouged lips were parted, and a flush reddened the skin at the opening of her robe, where the white powder applied to her face and neck stopped. A chill tingled through Reiko.

This was how Lady Yanagisawa had looked just before she’d tried to kill Reiko.

If the wedding proceeded, this woman would be Masahiro’s mother-in-law. Heaven only knew what she would do then.

*   *   *

AS LADY YANAGISAWA
beheld her daughter, her outrage escaped her body like hot, poisonous wisps of smoke from a volcano. Poor, innocent Kikuko, blinded by the drape over her head, was like a white calf ready for slaughter. She didn’t know what was happening. Lady Yanagisawa had tried to explain, but the best she could do was playact a wedding using Kikuko’s dolls, to teach Kikuko how to behave at the ceremony. Kikuko thought marriage was a game. She didn’t understand that she was chattel in a pact her father had made with the husband of her mother’s enemy. Lady Yanagisawa desperately wished Masahiro wouldn’t show up. The boy would defile Kikuko for his own pleasure while scorning her because she was feebleminded. Murderous thoughts and impulses swirled through Lady Yanagisawa. She viewed Reiko through the black scribble of blood in her ruptured eye.

If only Kikuko had drowned Reiko’s son when he was a baby! This horrible day would never have come.

Lady Yanagisawa wanted to grab Kikuko and run, but the presence of her husband, seated beside her, held her down like an iron anchor. A small, craven part of her hoped that if she did what he wanted … love was too much to expect; she would settle for an occasional friendly word and visit to her bed. She couldn’t give up her hope that he would change. She would do anything to keep that hope alive. She would even offer up Kikuko as a sacrifice, no matter her awful guilt. Her husband and her daughter were her two loves; they had equal claims on her heart.

A stir rustled through the room. Lady Yanagisawa heard breaths released by the other people. An awful, sick sensation caved in her stomach as she looked in the direction of their gazes. There in the doorway stood Masahiro.

*   *   *

NO, NO, NO!

Taeko pressed her hand to her mouth, stifling the cries that rose in her. She’d been praying that Masahiro wouldn’t come for the wedding. All day she’d hoped he was making arrangements to run away with her and they would elope and then she could tell him about the baby. But now, as he stalked into the room, Taeko understood that his tardiness was the only protest he would make against this marriage. His loyalty to his parents was too strong to break.

Masahiro didn’t look at her, or anyone else, as he dropped to his knees beside Kikuko. He wore his ordinary clothes instead of the black ceremonial garments appropriate for a wedding. Taeko smelled liquor on him: He must have sneaked out to a teahouse. But his eyes were clear; he looked completely sober and utterly defeated.

Lord Mori, the master of ceremonies, said, “We are gathered here to unite Sano Masahiro and Yanagisawa Kikuko in marriage.”

Taeko flung a pleading glance around the room. Her mother looked distraught, Sano grim, Reiko desolate. No one objected. The priest rose, bowed to the altar, swished a long wand tasseled with white paper strips, and intoned, “Evil out, fortune in!” He chanted an invocation to the gods and beat a wooden drum. The familiar ritual brought tears to Taeko’s eyes. She’d so hoped to wed Masahiro, and there he sat like a chained prisoner beside another girl.

The housekeeper brought Masahiro and Kikuko a tray containing three flat wooden cups, graduated in size, nested together. She poured sake out of the jar from the altar into the smallest cup, then bowed to Kikuko and offered her the cup. Jealousy assailed Taeko like a wolf tearing at her heart as Kikuko accepted the cup, raised it to her mouth under her white head drape, and took three sips with her face still concealed. Taeko wanted to snatch the cup, fling it against the wall, and halt the
san-san-ku-do
—the “three-times-three sips” pledge that would seal the marriage bond between Kikuko and Masahiro. But if she interfered, it wouldn’t stop the wedding; it would only get her thrown out of the room, and she wanted to be with Masahiro for as long as she could.

Kikuko handed the empty cup back to the housekeeper, who refilled the cup and offered it to Masahiro. His expression was surly as he took it. Knowing that he didn’t want this marriage gave Taeko some comfort. He turned the cup in his hands so that he wouldn’t have to put his mouth to the rouge-stained place on the rim where Kikuko’s lips had touched. He drank his three sips quickly, as if downing poison. Sourness lapped Taeko’s throat. Fighting the urge to vomit, she blinked back tears while the pair drank from their second cup. As Masahiro sipped from the third, final cup, she felt her bond with him dissolve, like a spiderweb immersed in acid.

He and Kikuko were now married. No matter how much he loved Taeko, he wasn’t hers anymore. Under her sleeves Taeko clasped her hands tight over her belly, shielding the child within, containing her grief.

The housekeeper served sake to Sano, Reiko, Yanagisawa, and Lady Yanagisawa, honoring the new alliance between the two families. Taeko’s lips formed the words that everyone else spoke: “
Omedet
ō
gozaimasu
—congratulations!” The housekeeper handed Masahiro and Kikuko branches with white paper strips attached and led them to the altar to make their offering to the gods. They bowed and laid the branches on the altar.

“The ceremony is completed,” the priest announced. “The bride and groom can begin their married life.”

Despair crushed Taeko. Tears fell, burning on her cheeks. The housekeeper began to lift the drape off the bride’s head. Taeko thought,
Please let her be ugly!

The drape slipped from Kikuko. She was the most beautiful girl Taeko had ever seen. A cold, sickening hollow opened up inside Taeko. It filled with awe, envy, and so much pain that she couldn’t breathe.

Kikuko turned to Masahiro. Her long-lashed black eyes sparkled at him. Her delicate lips curved in a shy smile. Masahiro gazed at Kikuko with eyes and mouth wide open, as dazzled as if struck by lightning. Taeko’s heart gave an agonized thump. Masahiro had never looked at her that way.

Masahiro bowed to Yanagisawa and, in a dazed voice, thanked him for the honor of joining his clan. He never took his eyes off Kikuko as she bowed and murmured her thanks to Sano and Reiko. He seemed to have forgotten that anyone besides his new wife existed.

No, no, no!

*   *   *

THE WEDDING BANQUET
was the most miserable affair Sano had ever attended. He and Reiko, Akiko, Magistrate Ueda, and Detective Marume sat in the dim, drafty hall, opposite Yanagisawa and his wife. Masahiro and Kikuko sat together at the head of the room. Maids put food on tray tables set before the members of the party. Taeko had run out of the house sobbing; Midori had gone after her. Lord Mori had excused himself, saying he had to prepare for the war. The bridal couple and their families were left to go through the motions of celebration.