“You know of her?”

“I listen to men talking, and that’s what they say. Her husband has close connections with the Tohan, and they hate the idea that a woman should inherit.”

“And do the Seishuu hate the Tohan in return? Enough to enter into an alliance with the Otori? What do you hear about that?”

It was the first time the idea had occurred to him: an alliance with the Seishuu-if a marriage would secure that, he would agree to it.

“Men gossip about all sorts of things at Haruna’s,” Akane said. “But they don’t know what they’re talking about half the time. Most of them have never been out of the Middle Country.”

“We should send a delegation to Maruyama or to the Arai at Kumamoto,” Shigeru said, thinking aloud. “Find out what their true opinions are.”

Akane did not want to talk about politics. She called softly to the maids and, when they came to remove the dishes, asked them to spread out the bedding. Shigeru was as passionate and responsive as usual, but he did not stay with her, saying he had affairs to discuss with Lord Irie. After he had left, she returned to bed. It had grown even colder, the wind off the sea rattling the shutters and moaning through every chink in the walls. She wished she had a man alongside her to keep her warm, thought of Hayato with some regret, and then with uncharacteristic anxiety about her future. Men did fall in love with their wives; it was not uncommon, and the woman within the house held many advantages over the woman of pleasure. She had told Shigeru she had certain claims on him, but in reality she had none; his wife would have children; he would love them with all the warmth of his nature, and surely that would lead him to love their mother. She could not bear the thought of it. He will fall in love with me, she vowed.

It was not only that she feared being abandoned by him, unable to take any new lover. The idea of him with another woman clawed at her heart despite the rational words she had spoken earlier. Then the idea came to her to go to the old priest and seek a spell from him that would make the wife barren, that would make Shigeru hate her…

She had been careful not to conceive a child: Haruna had supplied her with pessaries that annulled the male seed and potions to drink should her bleeding be delayed, and she knew enough about her body’s rhythms to avoid the days when she was fertile. But she often fantasized about having Shigeru’s child: it would be a boy, of course, of great beauty and courage; his father would adore him, would acknowledge him or, even better, adopt him; he would become the heir to the Otori clan… If Shigeru loved her, he would want to give her a child. The thought warmed her; she drew the covers closer around her and drifted into sleep.

SHIGERU DISCUSSED the subject of marriage with Irie, suggesting the idea of a closer alliance with one of the great families of the West. Following this, further deliberations were entered into by the elders, by Shigeru’s father and his uncles. Meanwhile, his mother moved to the castle, appropriating the best rooms in the deep interior for herself and offending her sisters-in-law, who had to move out to make room for her. In subtle ways her presence changed the balance of power among the Otori lords, and though Shigeru resented her interference in his private affairs-she managed to make it clear that she disapproved of Akane without ever mentioning her and often seemed to find it essential to speak to him at the end of the day when it was his custom to go to the house beneath the pines-he was grateful for her implacable opposition to any appeasement of the Tohan and, above all, any marriage dictated by them. His father, who now spent more time with his wife than at any other period in his life, came gradually under her influence and began to share her views and to rely on her advice rather than on the shamans.

His uncles opposed the idea of the Seishuu alliance on the grounds that it would insult and enrage the Tohan-and in any case, they argued, who was available? Maruyama Naomi was already married; the Arai had no daughters; the Shirakawa had girls, but they were mere infants. So a compromise was reached, and in the end it was agreed, as Shigeru’s mother had first said to him, that the best strategy would be to arrange a betrothal as soon as possible to an Otori girl and pretend that it had been a long-standing commitment.

HER NAME WAS Yanagi Moe: Her family were closely related to the Otori lords and to Shigeru’s mother. They lived in the mountain town of Kushimoto and were a proud, austere family of the old style. Moe was their oldest child and only daughter, and had been brought up to think highly of herself, her family, and her forebears. The Otori marriage was exactly what she had hoped for, believing it to be no more than her right. She had been born the year before Shigeru, and at seventeen, was small and very slight, charming and graceful enough, reserved by nature, overprotected by her family, with little knowledge or interest in the world beyond the walls of her parents’ house. She was fond of reading, wrote passable poetry, and liked playing draughts, though she never mastered chess or Go. She had been well taught how to supervise the running of a household, and she knew how to reduce a maid to tears with a few words. She secretly had no very high opinion of men, having several younger brothers who had replaced her completely in her mother’s affections.

The betrothal took place in Yamagata a little before the winter solstice, and the marriage in Hagi in the spring. There were huge celebrations: gifts of money, rice cakes, and wine were distributed among the townspeople; singing and dancing went on late into the night. Akane listened to the sounds from her house with a bitter heart. She drove her nails into her palms when she thought of him with his bride. Her only consolation was the charm she had received from the old priest. He had laughed when she told him what she wanted and had looked at her with sharp, serious eyes.

“Be careful what you wish for, Akane. It will come true, you know.”

She had let him fondle her breasts in payment, and the charm now lay buried in the garden, together with clippings from Shigeru’s hair and fingernails, and drops of Akane’s menstrual blood.

She did not see Shigeru for a week and had begun to despair, but when he finally came, after dark, alone except for two guards, he took her in his arms at once, without even waiting for the beds to be prepared, and made love with a ferocious desperation that she had never known in him before but which aroused her passion in response. Afterward she held him while he wept-she had never seen him cry-and wondered what had happened to so bruise his sense of self.

It seemed indelicate to pry into the reasons for his distress. She said very little, called for wine to be brought, and poured it for him. He drank several cups in swift succession, and then said abruptly, “She cannot make love.”

“She was a virgin,” Akane replied. “These things can take time. Be patient.”

“She is still a virgin.” He laughed bitterly. “I was not able to get her to open. Everything I did caused her pain and, it seemed, terror. She shrank from me; she had no desire at all for me. I think she has already come to hate me.”

“She is your wife,” Akane said. “She cannot continue to refuse you. You must have children together.” She spoke quietly and calmly, but inwardly she was rejoicing. I’ll let the old man suck my mouth! she vowed.

“I never expected it,” Shigeru said. “I thought I could please her. I thought she would be like you!”

Akane took his hand and rubbed her fingers against the ball of the thumb. She liked the feel of the muscle below the skin, strong and flexible from years of practice with the sword.