“I’m telling the truth!” Midori cried. “They’re good, honorable men who came to you in peace.”
The grindstone suddenly flew out of Lord Niu’s hand and crashed against the wall. Midori shrieked. Okita and the guards started.
“Do you take me for a moron?” Lord Niu shouted. “My enemy wants to sneak his son into our clan, to cause discord among us and weaken us so we’ll be vulnerable. I should cut off your head and send it to him as proof that I’m onto his scheme!”
Midori whimpered as he brandished the dagger. He crawled to the edge of the dais, tilted his head, and scrutinized her. She recoiled in terror from his fierce, distorted gaze. Then the left side of his mouth curved upward in a pitying smile.
“Ah. I see,” he said. “You really don’t know anything. You’re too innocent to recognize my enemies for what they are.”
Rage suffused his features. “That boy has tricked you into thinking he loves you, all the while he’s used you for his evil purposes. That dirty, vicious scoundrel!”
Lord Niu jumped up and stalked around the dais; he slashed the dagger at the air. “Son of a snake! Demon from hell! I’ll see him destroyed before long!”
Cowering, Midori put her hands over her ears to block out her father’s voice, but Lord Niu shouted more curses against Hirata. Wild, reckless terror overcame her.
“Stop!” she screamed.
Lord Niu abruptly fell quiet. He stood still, weapon dangling, as he and his men regarded her in surprise that she dared command him. Midori quailed at her own boldness; yet her love for Hirata and need to marry him inspired courage. She said what Reiko had suggested might bend Lord Niu to her wishes: “Do you want to be safe from your enemies?”
Caught off guard and startled out of his rage, Lord Niu said, “… Yes?”
“Do you want to make sure that the Hirata clan will never attack ours?” Midori’s voice quavered; she pressed her thighs together, fighting an urge to urinate.
Lord Niu looked wary, but nodded.
“Then the best thing to do is unite our two clans in a marriage between Hirata-san and me,” Midori said in a rush. “The wedding would mean a truce. We’ll be allies, not enemies.”
A thoughtful look came over Lord Niu’s face. Its two halves seemed almost to align.
Midori took heart because in spite of his peculiarities, Lord Niu wasn’t entirely impervious to logic. She remembered what else Reiko had told her to say, when they’d met earlier that morning: “The union will also protect you from the Tokugawa. They won’t attack a lord whose daughter is married to the chief retainer of the shogun’s sosakan-sama.”
Lord Niu pondered; something awakened in his dreaming eye. He wasn’t completely out of touch with the world, either, Midori knew. Even if he didn’t realize that the Tokugawa wouldn’t start a war and disrupt the peace they’d maintained for almost a century, he understood the benefit of marrying a daughter to someone with a Tokugawa connection. And he had a clever instinct for seizing chances to serve himself. A short eternity passed. Midori held her breath. Then Lord Niu hopped off the dais and crouched in front of her.
“Do you want so badly to marry?” he said.
He appeared so concerned about her that Midori’s heart leapt. “Yes,” she breathed.
“Well, I suppose that can be arranged.” Rising, Lord Niu beckoned to his chief retainer, who came to him. Lord Niu whispered in Okita’s ear; Okita listened, nodded, then left the room. Midori wondered what was going on. She prayed that her father would change his mind about Hirata.
“Are you in love with this boy?” Lord Niu said.
Midori thought she felt her father relenting. Could this possibly mean he’d sent Okita to apologize to Hirata’s father and ask for another miai so the marriage negotiations could start fresh?
“Yes,” Midori said, poised between fear and joy.
A gradual frown eclipsed Lord Niu’s face; his right eye veered slowly. “I shall permit you to marry, and I desire that you should make an advantageous match. But I forbid you to wed the Hirata boy.”
Midori’s mouth fell open in stunned disappointment.
“Whatever his high connections, I don’t trust him or his father,” Lord Niu said. “A marriage is no guarantee of their good behavior toward me. They would cut my throat as soon as the wedding was over, and sack my province. You shall marry an ally I can trust. I shall begin seeking prospective husbands at once.”
Midori didn’t want to bear her baby out of wedlock, but neither did she want Hirata’s child born into a marriage between her and a stranger. “Please, Honorable Father, I don’t want to marry anyone but Hirata-san.” Frantic, she prostrated herself at Lord Niu’s feet. “He loves me as much as I love him. We must be together!”
“Shut up!” Lord Niu raged. “You’ll do as I say!”
“If I can’t marry Hirata-san, I’ll die!” Midori wept now.
“I order you to renounce him.”
“No. Please!”
“Do it, or I’ll kill you.”
Lord Niu grabbed her hair, forced her head back, and held the dagger to her throat. Midori sobbed in terror and panic. She didn’t want to give in, yet as she felt the cold steel against her skin, she knew her father was serious. She would rather let him kill her than give up Hirata, but she must protect her unborn child.
“All right,” she cried. “I renounce Hirata-san. Just please don’t hurt me!”
“That’s better.” Lord Niu smiled, released her, and stood. Midori collapsed in a miserable heap. “Now you’ll promise to accept a husband I choose for you, or marry the first man that Okita sees passing my gate.”
“No!” Fresh horror reawakened Midori’s defiance.
Lord Niu cocked his head, listening as footsteps came down the corridor. “Ah. Here he is now.”
Okita entered the room, bringing another man with him. The man had straggly hair and missing teeth, and wore filthy rags. He carried a begging bowl that held a few coins. Okita pushed him face-down in front of Lord Niu.
“Greetings,” Lord Niu said as though the beggar was a visiting dignitary. “Many thanks for coming.”
“It’s a privilege,” the beggar stammered, clearly awed and puzzled at being summoned by the daimyo.
Lord Niu hauled Midori close to the beggar. She gagged on his stench. “This is my daughter,” Lord Niu said. “How would you like to marry her?”
The beggar looked dumbfounded by what must have seemed to him a stroke of unbelievable luck. “I would like it very much, master, if that’s your wish.”
Lord Niu glared at Midori. “Do you promise?”
Hope died in her, as did the will to resist. “I promise,” she whispered.
23
The Pillow Book of Lady Wisteria
As I sit writing by my window, I look down at the street filled with merrymakers. The potted cherry trees are pink with blossoms whose petals fall like snow. How fleeting is their beauty! And how fleeting was the happiness that I hoped would last forever.
Four years ago I stood beside Sano-san in the parlor of the brothel. He said to the proprietor, “I redeem Lady Wisteria from her servitude to you.”
His attendants paid a chest of gold coins in exchange for my freedom. I was so overwhelmed by love for Sano- san that tears poured from my eyes. His eyes shone with desire for me. We were eager to flee Yoshiwara together, but the departure rituals had to be performed, and such a momentous occasion as the end of my suffering deserved proper celebration.
The next day I dressed in fine new robes that Sano-san had bought me, then I distributed the farewell gifts he’d provided. My attendants and I promenaded through Yoshiwara, visiting all my friends and giving them packages of boiled rice and red beans. I gave smoked bonito to the teahouses and ageya where I’d entertained clients. All the entertainers and servants received tips from me. Everyone wished me a long, prosperous life. Then Sano-san and I
