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she, too, was counting the days till they were married. Pedro was at the apogee of his virility; he was tall, well proportioned, and broad chested, with noble features: a prominent nose, an authoritative chin, and very expressive blue eyes. At the time, he wore his hair combed back and caught into a short pigtail at the nape of his neck. He shaved his cheeks, waxed his mustache, and wore a narrow little beard that would characterize him throughout his life. He dressed with elegance, acted unambiguously, spoke deliberately, evoked respect and conveyed certainty, but he could also be gallant and tender. Marina wondered, with awe, why a man with such great pride and courage had chosen her. The next year, after the girl had begun to menstruate, they married and moved into the modest property belonging to the Valdivias.
    Marina entered the married state with the best of intentions, but she was very young, and that man of serious and studious temperament frightened her. They had nothing to talk about. She was embarrassed and upset when he suggested books to read, not daring to confess that she could barely handle basic sentences and signed her name with a squiggle. Her family had protected her from contact with the world, and wanted her to stay that way; her husband’s perorations on politics or geography intimidated her. Her interests were prayer and embroidering ceremonial vestments for priests. She had no experience in managing a household, and the servants ignored the orders she issued in her baby voice. As a result, her mother-in-law continued to run the house, while Marina was treated like the child she was. She set about learning the boring household tasks, coached by the older women in the family, but there was no one whom she could ask about the other aspect of married life, one more important than planning meals or keeping books.
    As long as Marina’s relations with Pedro had consisted of sweet epistles and visits overseen by a duenna, she had been happy, but her enthusiasm evaporated when she found herself in bed with her new husband. She was completely innocent about what was to happen on her first night as a bride; no one had prepared her for the horrible surprise that lay in store. In her trousseau she had seen several ankle-length batiste nightgowns that tied at the neck and wrists with satin ribbons and had a cross-shaped opening in the front. It had never occurred to her to ask what purpose that keyholelike aperture served, and no one had explained that it was through it that she would have contact with her husband’s most intimate parts. She had never seen a naked man, and believed that the differences between men and women were facial hair and tone of voice. When in the dark she felt Pedro’s breath on her face and his large hands groping among the folds of her gown for that exquisitely embroidered opening, she kicked at him like a mule, jumped out of bed, and ran screaming down the corridors of the stone house.
    Though he meant well, Pedro was not a thoughtful lover. His experience was limited to brief encounters with women of negotiable virtue, but he realized that he was going to need great patience. His wife was still a child, and her body was barely beginning to develop; it was not a good idea to force her. He tried to initiate her gradually, but soon Marina’s innocence, which had attracted him so strongly in the beginning, became an insurmountable obstacle. Nights were a frustration for him and a torment for her, yet neither of the two dared speak of their feelings in the light of day. Pedro turned to his studies, and to supervising his lands and his laborers, burning off energy in fencing and riding. In his heart he was preparing, and saying farewell. When the call of adventure became irresistible, he again enlisted under the standard of Charles V, with the secret dream of equaling the military glory of the marqués de Pescara.
    In the late winter of 1527, the Spanish troops, under