As of six weeks ago they had been husband and wife, but Shichio’s treachery forced Daigoro to surrender his love and lands. He’d signed a pact with Shichio, renouncing his name as an Okuma, and that meant the baby in Akiko’s belly was now a bastard. Aki didn’t see it that way; in fact, she’d put her fists on her hips and insisted that she wouldn’t consider herself divorced until her husband cast her bodily out of the house. “That’s what the law permits, and that’s what I demand,” she’d said. But Daigoro would stand by the pact; to do otherwise would be to break his word, and bushido would not allow him that. He had every intention to wed her again, but he could not do that so long as Shichio lived.
Akiko put a finger to her lips and Daigoro realized he could hear his own breathing. The thought of avenging himself on Shichio had distracted him, but now he brought breath and heartbeat back under control. He listened as his erstwhile father-in-law exchanged final pleasantries with the peacock, and restrained his sigh of relief until he heard the Toyotomi company depart.
As soon as the great gate groaned shut behind them, Inoue Shigekazu ripped the shoji aside. Daigoro and Akiko blinked in the sudden sunlight. “There,” Lord Inoue said. “I’ve lied to the crown. Does that satisfy you?”
“Not by half,” Daigoro said. “It would satisfy me if you gave your arquebusiers the order to fire before the peacock gets out of range.”
“I told you, boy, I will not invoke the wrath of the mightiest warlord in the land. Filling one of his generals with leaden balls would be the swiftest way to do that.”
“His name is Daigoro, not ‘boy,’” Aki said. “He made good on his promise to you, Father. He had his opportunity to kill his enemy and he let it pass. Now promise me again: you will not reach out to Shichio.”
Inoue’s beady black eyes darted from her to Daigoro and from Daigoro to the gate. “I won’t.”
“Swear it.”
He glowered at Daigoro. “He is the father of my grandchild, Akiko. Kin of my kin, whether I like it or not. You need no oath from me.”
Akiko’s mouth became a flat, colorless line. She planted her fists on her hips and her eyes narrowed. Anger tended to raise little wrinkles on the bridge of her nose. Daigoro could never admit this to her, but he found it adorable.
Her father did not. He buckled physically, as if someone had dropped a yoke on his shoulders. With a long, exasperated intake of breath he said, “I swear to you, daughter of mine, I will not betray your faithless husband to General Shichio. Nor will I lend my aid to any of the countless hunters who seek to bring him to justice—which, I might add, they are right to do, since he is a known fugitive.”
Daigoro gave him an anemic smile. Thank you for reminding me, he wanted to say. I’d almost forgotten the price on my head.
“Nor will I harbor him any longer,” Inoue said. “Believe me, boy, I meant what I told the general. If not for my promise to my daughter, I would sell your sword for a song and keep your skull as a pot to shit in. If she should miscarry my grandchild, or if any accident should befall her, I will be the first to send messengers to General Shichio. Do we understand each other?”
“We do. It’s not a subtle point you’re making.”
“Then get my daughter to her home. Until I can talk your lunatic mother into marrying my daughter to a better man, Akiko belongs behind Okuma walls.”
She does, Daigoro thought; she belongs in the only place on this earth where I am legally forbidden to stay. That was the condition that allowed him to keep Shichio from driving the entire Okuma compound into the sea. The only way he could protect his family was to renounce them, formally surrendering not just his title but his very name. Okuma Daigoro was no more; only Daigoro remained, a ronin and a wanted man.
But here he was unwanted. He gave Lord Inoue a curt bow, then limped with Akiko onto the veranda. It was hot in the sun, and Izu’s drought showed no signs of relenting. Aki had no tolerance for it—she overheated so easily now that she was pregnant—but Daigoro took it as a gift. Wet trails aided the hunter, not the hunted, and Daigoro’s