Dororo: Part Two
Nakamura Masaru
Part 3: Kagemitsu
Chapter 17
The steep hill that the Daigo Clan castle was built upon leveled off as Tahōmaru and Hyakkimaru approached the main gates. The city spread out below the castle all the way to the horizon line.
Eight men dressed like ancient samurai approached Tahōmaru. They surrounded Tahōmaru and Hyakkimaru like an honor guard. Hyakkimaru felt like he was being challenged once again. What kind of work was Tahōmaru offering, anyway?
The honor guard weren't like the two-bit criminals Hyakkimaru had knocked down with chopsticks at the tavern. All of them were well-armed and armored, and their expressions were grimly serious.
Hyakkimaru felt the honor guards' eyes on him. He stared back at them. They might be experienced, but he was confident. He could win a fight against Tahōmaru easily: of that, he was sure.
I can take these guys, too. Maybe.
The castle had a dark and forbidding air. A moat protected it on every side; the only way across it to the gates was a narrow wooden drawbridge. Black flags flew from atop the castle's many towers.
Getting across the bridge with the honor guard surrounding Tahōmaru and Hyakkimaru was a bit difficult. The eight men crowded in close so that they wouldn't fall off the bridge. The moat wasn't so deep that the bottom couldn't be seen, but it was more than deep enough to drown someone.
Up close, the castle's construction appeared even more precarious than it had seemed at a distance. It was like several castles all shoved together, each of them planned by a different architect and built in a completely different style.
The castle looks even stranger when you're standing so close to it. Strange, and intimidating. He didn't want to go any further. Each step forward would make it more difficult to escape.
A lot of people had worked to create this castle. Hyakkimaru guessed that the people that the Daigo Clan had conquered had been forced to build it against their will. The castle was strong, and it looked it, but there was no unified vision guiding it. It was like whoever had planned it had ordered the workers to make it like the castles that they knew of, with no regard for cohesion or aesthetics.
Hyakkimaru spared a thought for the poor animals that had been compelled to haul so many building materials up the steep hill.
Most of the castle was uniform black in color on the outside, but the top of the tallest tower shone golden. Hyakkimaru pointed at the tower, then asked the honor guard standing closest to him what the gold meant, if anything. To Hyakkimaru, the top of the tower looked like paradise under siege by the dark armies of hell.
"That is where the Daigo Clan resides," an honor guard replied.
"So Daigo Kagemitsu is there?" Hyakkimaru asked. It was difficult for him to keep the contempt out of his own voice.
Hyakkimaru passed through a series of gates. Tahōmaru rode ahead of him on horseback. The honor guard remained close to Hyakkimaru even after they had more room to maneuver. The castle doors were just ahead.
The inside of the Daigo Clan's castle was just as complex and confusing as the outside. A bewildering number of corridors and staircases branched off the entrance hall, leading who knew where. Tahōmaru led Hyakkimaru into a room full of various objects: armor of course, a mix of new and old, and maps of many nations and territories. There were silver-plated globes that Hyakkimaru couldn't identify. Maybe Tahōmaru liked collecting things. Jukai had been like that.
Tahōmaru removed his battle surcoat and rolled up his long sleeves. He poured a liquid as red as blood into two glasses and handed one to Hyakkimaru.
"If you're from around here, you've probably encountered some Kaneyama Clan rebels," Tahōmaru said. "They're a damned nuisance."
Hyakkimaru looked into the cup of red liquid with a little frown. He had, indeed, encountered Kaneyama Clan rebels before, and he had no desire to repeat that terrible experience.
"It's clear to everyone that they intend harm to my father, and to me." He noticed the discomfort on Hyakkimaru's face. "What's wrong?" he asked.
"So you need a bodyguard to protect you from the Kaneyama Clan? You're hiring people to help fight them off?" Hyakkimaru's voice shook. He didn't want to talk about this, or to remember his last experience fighting the desperate--and inhuman--remnants of the Kaneyama Clan.
"Hm." Tahōmaru stared at him intensely, like he was trying to turn Hyakkimaru inside-out and learn his secrets by force of will. "You hate them, those Kaneyama Clan bastards. Good. So do I. But...you're dangerous, too. I can sense it. I suspect you'd be a good ally, but there's something a little off about you..."
Hyakkimaru set his shoulders. "How many men does the Kaneyama Clan have left?"
"No idea. Two men were recently captured. Did you see them? We staked their heads along the side of the main road. A woman who was conspiring with them escaped from the castle. The men you beat up at that tavern were going after her." He gave Hyakkimaru a chilling smile.
Hyakkimaru trembled all over. "That woman...was she one of them?"
Tahōmaru shrugged. "Why? Did you see her run off?"
Hyakkimaru didn't answer. Tahōmaru laughed, but Hyakkimaru didn't seem to hear him. He was remembering the day that Mio and the children had died. There had been women among the Kaneyama Clan rebels--some free, but some obviously captured. Their ages had ranged from the very young to the aged, but Hyakkimaru didn't remember any of their faces in detail. Had Hyakkimaru seen the woman who'd escaped from the Daigo Clan's fortress and fled beyond Banmon? She'd seemed so young. If she was one of the women that Hyakkimaru had seen before, then Kaneyama Takeshige, the sole remaining heir to the Kaneyama Clan, must be close.
Kaneyama Takeshige had given the the orders to kill Mio and the children so that he and the people who followed him wouldn't be discovered and reported. A flash of hatred overwhelmed Hyakkimaru for a moment.
Tahōmaru was no longer laughing, but his cynical grin was locked in place and didn't shift. "Seems like this might be a good arrangement for both of us. I'll be protected and put down the rebels. You'll get your revenge. It's a win-win." He drank the liquid in his cup down in a single gulp. "You drink, too," he said.
Hyakkimaru had been lost in memories. Tahōmaru's voice brought him back to his senses. He imitated Tahōmaru, draining the liquid in his cup as quickly and easily as if it were water.
Tahōmaru smiled again, but there was something sharp and angular about it: all hard edges. "I'm the heir to this castle and will rule this country someday. When I do come into my full inheritance, I'll need people around me that I can trust. Are you interested in a position like that?"
Tahōmaru's proposition made Hyakkimaru uneasy. Working for Dororo's enemy was the same as betrayal. But getting revenge on child-killers and Mio's murderers was something that Dororo would probably understand, if he explained himself well enough.
"I'm not interested in power," Hyakkimaru said. "Pay me, and I'll do your dirty work. We'll part ways after that."
"A strange answer," Tahōmaru said. "Are you concerned about your companion?" He poured himself more wine and took a sip. "Perhaps you fail to understand me. I was born the son of a warrior, into a world on fire. But we have peace here. My father wants to make the entire nation peaceful, and I intend to help him. But to do that--and to preserve what he has built--I'll need assistance, myself."
"It's a good line, I'll give you that," Hyakkimaru said. "It probably convinces a lot of people, but it won't convince me."
Tahōmaru frowned. "It seems like you have a negative perception of my father."
Hyakkimaru shrugged. "I've never seen him. I've heard a few things about him, though."
"I see." Tahōmaru nodded. "Come with me, and I'll introduce you to him."
Hyakkimaru was stunned. Me? Meet Daigo Kagemitsu, in person?
Tahōmaru was walking away. Hyakkimaru hurried to catch up.
A lot of unexpected things had happened today. Meeting Daigo Kagemitsu face-to-face might be the most interesting one of them all.
Tahōmaru led Hyakkimaru up several winding staircases. They were heading for the gold-plated tower, the one Hyakkimaru had seen from the outside.
That was what Hyakkimaru thought, anyway, but when they reached another staircase, Tahōmaru went down instead of up. Perhaps the confusing interior layout was meant to protect the castle's inhabitants from infiltrators and invading armies. No one would think to descend a staircase in order to climb a tower.
Hyakkimaru was completely lost. He certainly hoped that Tahōmaru would lead him out of here. He'd never find the exit on his own.
After going down one staircase and up another, Tahōmaru and Hyakkimaru walked down a narrow corridor that connected two towers.
A woman who was passing by called out to Tahōmaru in greeting. "Tahōmaru? Is that you?"
"Mother?"
Tahōmaru's mother came closer, accompanied by a small group of other women who got to their knees and bowed. Her name was Yuri; she was Tahōmaru's mother and Daigo Kagemitsu's wife.
"It's good to see you," Tahōmaru said. "I met a very capable man in the city. I'm going to introduce him to father right now." He gestured to Hyakkimaru. "He might be working in the castle soon."
"I am certain that he will be," Yuri said. She glanced at Hyakkimaru, but kept most of her attention on her son. "Your recommendation is the highest possible praise." She smiled at Hyakkimaru with genuine kindness and brought her chin to her chest, as if she were entirely unaware of her position as this nation's de facto queen.
Hyakkimaru bowed his head politely. For a moment, he, Yuri, and Tahōmaru stood still as if they'd just stepped into a courtly painting.
But then, Yuri gasped. She stared at Hyakkimaru with her eyes wide open and went pale.
Hyakkimaru sensed Yuri's surprise and looked up.
"The pattern on that cloth..." Yuri took a deep breath. "Where did you get that?"
Tahōmaru frowned. He followed his mother's gaze and noticed that there was, indeed, a pattern on Hyakkimaru's clothing, though it was very faded and difficult to identify. The pattern looked like boat anchors, embroidered in gold thread.
“It’s the Sakurazawa mon--the symbol of my mother’s family,” Yuri said.
“Huh?” Tahōmaru looked confused. Was Hyakkimaru related to his mother’s family in some way?
Hyakkimaru froze. Jukai had told him to wear these clothes when he went out into the world. He had been wrapped in a layer of white silk and in the black silk-patterned kimono that he now wore when Jukai had found him.
Who would have wrapped him up that way if not his birth parents?
“What...” Hyakkimaru blinked. He was just as confused as Yuri about what was happening. But Hyakkimaru couldn’t remember his infancy. Yuri could. She was remembering now, and she didn’t bother to hide her thoughts. Hyakkimaru could perceive her memories as clearly as if they were his own. His own memories of Jukai and what he’d said about finding his family surfaced at the same time.
Hyakkimaru was overwhelmed by the power of memory: he couldn’t sort through everything he was seeing at first. Images passed before his mind’s eye with blinding speed.
A complete solar eclipse: the moon blotted out the sun, leaving the world in darkness.
Vast, sweeping grasslands around a slow-flowing river. The grass was black at first, black like everything else, but it turned red when the sun started to emerge again.
Yuri and an old woman were on their knees near the river, weeping into their hands. Yuri wrapped a baby in a layer of white silk, then a layer of black silk, and placed the child into a metal basin.
The basin floated away. Yuri and the old woman watched it float away in the weak current.
Hyakkimaru felt himself choking. Up until that point, he didn’t know if he was breathing. He couldn’t tell for certain, but he thought that Yuri had believed that the baby was dead. And the baby was him...
The wind picked up. The basin floating in the river spun, moving downriver with alarming speed. Yuri screamed: a sound that shattered the terrible silence.
The grass of the plains whispered in the wind.
The eclipse ended. Light returned. The basin got caught in some reeds near the shore and stopped moving.
Jukai’s face rose up in Hyakkimaru’s mind. Jukai had told Hyakkimaru that he’d saved him, but Hyakkimaru never thought that was something he could remember. Were these Jukai’s memories, and he’d simply repressed them? Or were they Yuri’s? Did she know where her baby had ended up?
No; she didn’t know. Hyakkimaru could sense that much.
The images he saw next were from Jukai’s point of view. Jukai picked up the baby in the basin, appearing stunned. He brought the baby back to his hut and unwrapped the layers of silk around him so that he could perform a full examination.
The memories after that were mostly Hyakkimaru’s own. He remembered a water tank, and darkness. For a long time, he felt nothing and saw nothing. Jukai was the only person he could communicate with.
Then there were the surgeries--
Jukai embedded an ordinary sword in his right arm first. It was the same blade that Jukai had sterilized and used to cut off Hyakkimaru’s umbilical cord. He’d wanted Hyakkimaru to practice with it before embedding the demon-killing sword inside his left arm.
Jukai’s memories mixed with his own again: he saw the genesis of his prosthetic limbs and organs and was vaguely sick to his stomach.
No, impossible.
Jukai had used the limbs and organs of dead children to create Hyakkimaru’s artificial body.
No one could do something like that. No one would do it. And yet...
Hyakkimaru was obviously alive. His body resembled those of other humans. His heart pumped blood; he gave off body heat...Jukai had accomplished something miraculous. But was it really a miracle?
Hyakkimaru had often questioned the meaning and purpose of his life, but it had never occurred to him to question the nature of his own existence. These memories revealed just how much of a freak of nature he actually was.
The name ‘Dororo’ meant ‘little monster.’ The villagers who had given it to him had been more right than they knew.
The images Hyakkimaru saw in his mind were no longer overwhelming. He could slow down and think about this, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to.
Yuri--the wife of Daigo Kagemitsu--was his mother.
Impossible.
As memories swirled in his mind, Hyakkimaru understood only one thing: there was danger here. Training and instinct took over. He gripped his right arm and threw it to the floor, revealing the blade embedded in his elbow.
Tahōmaru seized Hyakkimaru’s arm and yanked him back. Hyakkimaru let him, still too shocked to move quickly. But then Tahōmaru drew his sword.
Tahōmaru was threatening him with a naked blade; Hyakkimaru had to defend himself.
“You bastard!” Tahōmaru hissed. “How dare you draw in front of my mother!”
The women around Yuri stood up and surrounded her. They were trying to protect her, but Yuri pushed past them toward Hyakkimaru. Her eyes were fixed on the sword in his arm.
Hyakkimaru raised the sword over his head as if he intended to strike out with it. Tahōmaru was close enough to attack.
Yuri took another tentative step forward. Her recollection of the day her first child had been born caused her pain, so she’d done her best to push it down and not think about it for much of her life. She was thinking about it now, and the sensation was like kicking away a folding screen to reveal some terrible, long-held secret.
“You...are here now.” Yuri gasped.
Hyakkimaru still held his sword above his head. Sunlight from the castle windows glinted off the blade. He didn’t move.
“Why?”
On the morning of her son’s birth, Yuri’s husband had come home agitated with a wound like an X on his forehead. He was wounded in other places, too, and still bleeding. He commanded her to get rid of the baby.
“Are you mad?” Yuri had said. “He’s still alive!”
“It won’t be for much longer,” Kagemitsu had snapped. “I don’t want to look at it. It’s time to get rid of it.”
Daigo Kagemitsu had drawn his sword and raised it over his head--just like Hyakkimaru was doing now. Yuri had clawed desperately at his arm, putting herself between her husband and the baby. She’d fallen to her knees, but kept her grip on her husband’s arm.
The tip of Kagemitsu’s blade had been inches from the baby’s heart.
“Let go!” Kagemitsu had shouted at her.
Yuri hadn’t let go. She hadn’t spoken, either: no words seemed to reach Kagemitsu. She’d wept without making a sound, using all her strength to to prevent him from murdering their child.
“Fine.” Kagemitsu had gritted his teeth. “Throw it away, then. Just don’t make me look at it. And if I find out you spared him for any reason, don’t come back here. I’ll kill you myself.”
Yuri had flinched. She’d still been crying.
“You must not make her do this,” the midwife had said. “She is exhausted from giving birth. Allow me to go in her stead.”
Kagemitsu had pointed his sword at the midwife.
Yuri had struggled to her feet. “I...I’ll go.”
“You must not, my lady!” The midwife had bowed down low.
“I’m fine.”
“Please!” The midwife had turned to Kagemitsu. “Allow her to rest today. Tomorrow morning, the two of us will abandon the child. I swear it.”
The next morning, Yuri and the midwife had wrapped the poor baby in silk. They lay the baby inside a new metal basin. The midwife had pushed the basin into the river; Yuri hadn’t been able to do it.
“My lady...”
“I know,” Yuri had said. “I know. We have to, but...”
The midwife had given the basin another little push. Yuri had prayed to the gods to watch over and protect the baby. She and the midwife had waited near the shore until the baby passed out of view. Then the midwife had guided Yuri back to their horses and helped her mount. The sun was just about to rise. Their horses walked slowly along a winding mountain path in the morning stillness.
They had come to an area full of tall grass that was difficult for the horses to traverse. If they’d bothered to look at the horizon, they would have seen the moon rising in the east--not the sun.
Yuri had finally noticed. All she’d been able to think about was the unnaturalness of the crime she’d just committed: abandoning her own child. The world had clearly gone mad; not even natural laws held anymore.
Forgive me. Please. My child, and whatever gods there are, please forgive me.
The quality of the light had changed around them. The sun had risen as normal; sometimes, Yuri wondered if she’d imagined seeing the moon in the sun’s place.
Weak sunlight had reflected off the metal basin as it floated slowly down the river. Yuri had screamed like the world was ending--like her heart was being ripped from her chest. The red light from the eclipse made the world look red. The wind picked up, pushing the baby downstream in the basin--out of reach.
Yuri’s memories of what happened after that weren’t clear. Hyakkimaru saw everything she’d experienced in the space of an instant. His heart skipped a few beats, from terror or despair he didn’t know. Was what he’d seen all real, or was some of it a nightmare?
Hyakkimaru had no reason to doubt what he’d seen. He had been perceiving others’ memories for as long as he could remember. But he wanted to doubt it. He didn’t want to be the son of Daigo Kagemitsu and this woman. He couldn’t possibly be that.
My father tried to kill me.
Hyakkimaru glanced at the naked blade embedded in his arm. He was now in a position to do to his birth father what had almost been done to him.
Am I really...who am I...?
Since leaving Jukai, Hyakkimaru had been called some kind of monster wherever he went. That seemed to be his father’s fault, but his mother...she was different
It’s Tahōmaru, she was thinking. Tahōmaru has finally come home to us.
She wasn’t talking about the young man Hyakkimaru had followed here--the young man who, Hyakkimaru realized, was his younger brother. She was talking about him.
Hyakkimaru’s name at birth was Tahōmaru.
Tahōmaru, Tahōmaru, Tahōmaru...
Yuri thought her son’s name over and over again and kept staring at Hyakkimaru as if she were seeing a ghost. Hyakkimaru held his breath.
“Tahōmaru...was that what you named me?” Hyakkimaru asked quietly.
Yuri collapsed, unconscious, to the floor. The women around her caught her and lay her down carefully so that she wouldn’t hurt herself.
“Mother!” Tahōmaru cried out. He let go of Hyakkimaru’s arm and dashed to Yuri’s side. One of her attendants rested Yuri’s head in her lap. The other women gathered around her, pleading for her to sit up and open her eyes.
“Take her to her rooms,” Tahōmaru commanded. “She must rest, and recover.”
The women bowed and moved to obey. Tahōmaru leveled his sword at Hyakkimaru again. “What are you doing?” he snarled. “Who are you? Why did you come here?”
“You know why!” Hyakkimaru shot back. “I came here looking for work. I wasn’t lying.” He picked up his arm and slid it back on.
Tahōmaru stared Hyakkimaru down for a moment. Hyakkimaru spun on his heel and walked away.
“Wait!” Tahōmaru called out to him. “Why did she call you by my name?! Explain that!”
Hyakkimaru felt Tahōmaru’s sword against his neck. He spun and slammed Tahōmaru in the gut with both fists. Tahōmaru gasped, dropped his sword and passed out.
Hyakkimaru had to get out of here. He forgot for the moment that he didn’t know his way around at all and focused on moving as quickly as he possibly could. He wasn’t afraid of pursuers, or being attacked...the castle itself, with its warped shape and blackened walls, was what he feared. He needed distance from it. Without that distance, he felt like he would go mad.
But even if he made it all the way outside to the drawbridge again, he would have to fight his way through the honor guard.
The honor guard was still in the castle, though they’d taken up positions near windows that faced the drawbridge. The castle was more alert to threats that were outside than within. The windows were fluted—good for archers and snipers—and there were six of them per fifty feet of wall, evenly spaced. There were four floors that contained windows, all offset slightly, and windows lined the front and back walls: there were twelve windows per floor. There were constant watches on the windows, of course. The watchers were loyal to the Daigo Clan—out of necessity, perhaps—but they were not moral, kind people as a whole. The Daigo Clan had clawed and usurped its way to power, and those who worked for it were much the same sort: loyal when it suited them, always looking for a way to increase their own standing.
From outside the castle, the watchers appeared to be carved in black stone, like guardians of the underworld. Twelve windows times four floors made forty-eight watchers: the same number of demons that had once been sealed inside the Hall of Hell.
East, west, north, south: each direction had an additional watch captain that was especially fearsome and powerful.
A man caused cracks in the earth where he placed his feet. He groaned and gasped as if he were in pain.
A woman stood in the castle’s moat. She was naked, and her hair and skin were black; the water surged and turned black where she touched it. Like the man, there was something pained in her expression, though it might be more accurate to say that she was insane.
There was another man that was literally on fire patrolling the plains outside the city. Unlike the previous two, he made no sound, though his body was tense all over.
Finally, there was a laughing madwoman who vaulted herself upward on air currents, flitting from place to place, keeping watch both above and below.
These four watch captains represented the four elements of earth, water, fire and air. They were also the castle’s most formidable guardians. They were gigantic in scale: almost as tall as the castle. When they stood upright, they looked like they were tall enough to hold up the sky. Though they all assumed human shapes, there was something divine about them—or demonic. It was difficult to tell.
The man on fire guarded the east and west, moving restlessly back and forth in a line of flame. The laughing woman protected the north and south, using the air to keep an eye on things from above. The other two patrolled the area around the castle and the moat, and could appear anywhere around the perimeter.
The sky above the castle was dominated by a large, bright sun. The sun appeared a bit strange to any close observer. It gave off light and heat like the normal sun did, bathing the four elemental watchers in shafts of golden light.
Everything that fell outside the radius of the false sun’s rays looked jet black in comparison. The false sun eclipsed the real one fully, blocking it from view. The elemental guardians moved around it like planets locked in an unstable orbit, invisible to ordinary human eyes.
The castle’s watchmen gazed out of the castle’s forty-eight windows, which opened out on the city below. The city watchmen, for their part, kept their eyes on the outer gates, and on the looming black castle.
One man stood atop the tallest tower of the castle and gazed upon his vast dominion: Daigo Kagemitsu. The room he stood in was shaped like an octagon and had visibility in every direction, though the windows here were too small to warrant a dedicated guard. He was facing the southeast, taking in the sight of the peaceful castle town. Only one staircase led to this tower, and the door to the tower was hidden.
Kagemitsu’s wife, Yuri, came up the stairs and begged to speak to him. When he said nothing, she opened the door and stepped inside. She was very pale.
Yuri shut the door behind her, then climbed up the stone steps the connected to the platform where Kagemitsu stood. She bowed her head. “Husband.”
Kagemitsu frowned. Yuri always called him “lord,” not “husband.” There was no one else here, however—no one but the two of them. Perhaps there was a reason Yuri wanted to emphasize their marital relationship, separate from his role as this nation’s ruler.
“Our son…he’s come back to us!” Yuri said.
Still frowning, Daigo Kagemitsu turned to face his wife.
Tahōmaru recovered from passing out and headed for the tower where his father resided within the castle. It hurt to breathe, since he’d just been hit squarely in the stomach. He checked on his mother on his way to the tower, but the women who attended on her told him that she’d come to before him and was on her way to see his father. He asked the women why she wanted to see his father, but none of them knew.
Mom, Tahōmaru thought, what’s going on? You and Hyakkimaru have never met before…right?
Tahōmaru had never heard his parents talking about Hyakkimaru. He’d never heard them talk about another child, either.
Who is he?!
There was no hint in Tahōmaru’s past to indicate that he was anything but his parents’ only son. His mother in particular had always doted on him during his childhood, and they’d always been close. His first thought after Hyakkimaru had knocked him out was for her. He was relieved that she was safe, but relief did nothing to help his confusion.
Tahōmaru’s mother was going to see his father. That was where he wanted to be, too. His parents must know the answers to his questions.
Why had his mother lost consciousness? Why did she seem to know Hyakkimaru? Why had she called Hyakkimaru by his own name?
Sakurazawa—Tahōmaru hadn’t heard that name in a long time. The family had blood ties to the Isobe Clan and the Kabei Clan; those clan territories were on the ocean. Yuri had been offered as a bride to smooth the way for the Daigo Clan’s future rule. Since the Daigo Clan was an offshoot of the Muroto Clan, Tahōmaru was descended from three of the four great clans that were always warring in this region: Muroto, Isobe, and Kabei.
The current Sakurazawa mon, or family symbol, was of a cherry tree and a flowing river, but the basis of the Sakurazawa Clan’s power came from the Isobe Clan. When Yuri was a young woman, the clan’s family symbol was boat anchors, since the Isobe Clan had gained much of their wealth and influence through sea trade.
Hyakkimaru had entered this castle wearing clothes patterned with the old Sakurazawa mon. Why?
Tahōmaru climbed the steps leading to the castle’s hidden tower hastily. He heard voices on the other side of the door and stopped to listen.
“I know I’m not wrong. I can’t be wrong in this! I recognized--”
Yuri was speaking. Tahōmaru pressed his ear to the door.
“Our actions have restored him to us--maybe it’s a reward? Or a punishment...” Yuri dropped her gaze and frowned at the floor.
“This happened because of your own foolishness,” Kagemitsu snapped at her. “You named a dead child, and look what’s happened.”
“Tahōmaru has come home,” Yuri insisted. “I sent him adrift down the river, still alive, and now he is here.”
On the other side of the door, Tahōmaru sucked in a breath. What?! So Hyakkimaru...is my older brother? She sent him down a river? Why would she do that? And why would he come back?
The world receded around Tahōmaru; he didn’t see it. His parents’ voices were muffled by the door and the dulling of his senses. He felt like he was about to be sick.
“All this time, I’ve never known which of my sons I was calling when I said his name.” Yuri’s voice was quiet, but Tahōmaru heard it. “The older one, or the younger one? I was never certain...but I never stopped calling for my first child.”
So my mother named me for him. I was...a replacement? Tahōmaru’s nausea returned full-force; he bent over with his hands over his stomach.
When Yuri spoke again, it sounded she she as crying. “The river saved him. I’m glad I sent him away, now.”
Kagemitsu’s reply was utterly devoid of emotion. “I should have killed him rather than let you take him. That was my error.”
Yuri was briefly speechless.
“Don’t bore me with tedious talk of feelings and family bonds,” Kagemitsu said. “Now is not the time for that.”
Kagemitsu said that, but at the same time, he drew a knife from his belt and hurled it at the door Tahōmaru stood behind. The point embedded itself in the wooden door frame with a dull thud. Tahōmaru felt the vibration of the strike through the door and gasped.
“Who’s there?” Kagemitsu demanded. “Tahōmaru? Come in!”
Tahōmaru wasn’t used to hearing the irritation in his father’s voice. He hesitated. Fear made him draw his own short sword from its sheath. He opened the door and joined his parents inside the tower.
Tahōmaru looked toward his mother first. Tears streamed down her pale face. “Tahōmaru...” she said softly. He looked away from her.
“What were you doing, sneaking around like a rat in the tower?” Kagemitsu asked in a tone of disapproval. “If you wanted to hear what we said, you should have knocked and asked openly. Well, now. Are you prepared, Tahōmaru? Prepared to hear about the foundation of the Daigo Clan, and the source of our family’s power?”
Tahōmaru took a deep breath, looked his father in the eyes, and nodded.
“All right. I will tell you.” Kagemitsu’s eyes fixed on Tahōmaru. “You will inherit my responsibility one day. It is imperative that you do not allow our clan to be wiped out.”
Tahōmaru frowned at this statement.
“And you, Yuri?” Kagemitsu turned to his wife. “Are you certain that you wish to hear this?”
Yuri bit her lip and didn’t answer right away.
“I swore long ago to unite the clans and nations and rule them all from one castle. You are part of that vow I made, Yuri, so you’re welcome to stay. If you oppose the vision I have for the future, leave.”
Yuri and Tahōmaru stayed with Kagemitsu in the eight-sided tower. It was just past noon, but Kagemitsu had so much to tell them that they all remained in the tower until sunset.
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