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corrected myself.
    â€˜Ah, Kasumi, you were right the first time when you spoke from truth and not from manners. But you sayit’s beautiful, which means it will be a perfect match for my wife.’
    As the comb-maker’s wife wrapped the gift in a cloth, I tried to imagine what it would be like to have a husband who bought me a comb and called me beautiful.
    A voice close to my ear said, ‘I would buy you a comb, but you don’t even wear your hair up yet.’
    Had Isamu guessed my thoughts? ‘I’ll have you know that I turn sixteen in the new year,’ I said, turning away from the combs.
    I moved outside where the crisp air could ease the hot flush in my cheeks. Why was I so disturbed? It was not like I had been imagining him as my husband . . . Anyway, not only was I a commoner, he clearly saw me as a child. None of which excused the fact that I had snapped at my master’s nephew. Despite my father’s dire predictions, I had made it past Fukushima — but at this rate I would be sent home before we reached the Torii pass.

    Isamu mustn’t have told his uncle about my outburst, though, for I wasn’t sent home. The next day we ascended the pass, walking up and up and up, through tall straight trunks that swayed and whispered in the slightest breeze. I clutched the amulet Chiyo had given me, imagining the mass of trees as warriors.
    The two men walked in front and I a little way behind them. They were talking about the foreigners.
    â€˜Is there much trouble in Edo, Uncle?’ Isamu asked.
    â€˜Some,’ Lord Shimizu replied. ‘And I expect there will be more. Many people think the Shogun shouldhave refused to negotiate with the foreigners when they demanded a treaty, but they’re not seeing things from all sides. It’s all very well to spout slogans —’
    â€˜You mean like sonnō jōi : revere the Emperor, expel the barbarians?’ his nephew interrupted.
    â€˜Yes, like that. There are those who want to overthrow the Shogun and restore power to the Emperor. But it’s not so simple. The Shogun is trying to avoid war with the foreigners. Their weapons are superior; either we negotiate or they’ll take what they want by force. As you mix with people from other domains, you’ll hear conflicting opinions, Isamu, but remember: the Matsuyama domain has always stood with the Shogun. The sonnō jōi movement —’ He waved a hand in dismissal. ‘They are just low-ranking samurai discontented with their lot, encouraged by domains that would like to see the Shogun’s government weakened.’
    As the pass grew steeper, their discussion ceased, as no one had breath to spare.
    Higher and higher we climbed, the porters bent nearly double under the weight of the luggage. The wind was so loud through the trees it sounded like the torrent of the Odaki and Medaki waterfalls near my village; it made me feel both close to home and far, far away.
    At the top of the pass we stopped at a small shrine to give thanks for our safe ascent.
    â€˜I have never seen a lady walk so well as you,’ Isamu said.
    In fact, the climb hadn’t troubled me unduly. The ascent was arduous, but my years of wandering the mountains around Tsumago meant my legs and lungs were strong. Still, his teasing tone disturbed me.
    â€˜That might be because I’m not a lady,’ I said brusquely, then inwardly cursed myself. I’d done it again, spoken before thinking. It didn’t matter what tone he used with me, I should be humble and respectful. But something about Isamu made me feel defensive, which was odd because his attitude wasn’t the least bit condescending. I had noticed how he always listened with his head slightly tilted, as if truly interested in what was being said; how he was confident but modest, and not too proud to show curiosity and enthusiasm. He was not at all how I’d imagined a young man of his rank would