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his courtiers ranked on the steps beneath him, but this time Yoriie indicated Masachika should follow him to the other side of the temple, where he had never been before.
    The official stepped up on the veranda of another beautiful residence and called softly. “Lord Masachika is here.”
    The door slid sideways, opened by unseen hands. Masachika dropped to his knees on the threshold and bowed his head to the ground.
    There was a rich scent that he could not quite identify, and for a moment he thought with a surge of emotion that it must be the Emperor himself, kneeling on an embroidered silk cushion, not five paces from him. Then the figure removed the covering from its face and spoke. It was a woman.
    â€œLord Masachika, thank you for coming. I presume you know who I am?”
    He could only guess, never having seen her before. “Our sovereign’s noble mother,” he said, raising his head briefly and then lowering it again. Natsue, the Emperor’s mother, sister to the Prince Abbot. “In what way can I serve you, Your Majesty?”
    â€œCan I trust you to keep this conversation secret? Will you swear to me that you will speak of it to no one?”
    He hesitated, aware of Yoriie just behind him, of the courtiers, the servants in the background, any one of whom might be a spy. Was it some kind of trap, some test of his loyalty? “I can have no secrets from Lord Aritomo,” he said guardedly.
    â€œHow is our dear lord and protector?” she said. “We have heard his recovery is slow.”
    â€œAlas, slower than we all desire, but he does not allow his illness to impede him in any way. No man has a stronger will.”
    â€œA strong will means nothing if Heaven is against you,” Lady Natsue replied. “My son and I are deeply concerned for the welfare of the country and the people. Is it possible that Lord Aritomo’s illness is a punishment of some sort?”
    â€œI cannot speak for Heaven, Your Majesty. Let your priests do that.”
    â€œBut they have, Lord Masachika. Oh yes, indeed they have. We have heard rumors that Yoshimori might still be alive. People have the audacity to say he has greater legitimacy than my son.”
    â€œWe are doing our best to stamp out such treason,” Masachika murmured.
    â€œYet the drought continues, and with it the unrest. But Yoshimori’s death, if it were confirmed or, better still, publicly witnessed, would make my son the rightful emperor. Why has Lord Aritomo not achieved this?”
    When Masachika did not reply she went on, “I believe his illness is making him less than capable.”
    He dared to raise his eyes and stare at her. She held his gaze for a moment, smiling slightly. “I had thought … but you are a loyal man, Masachika. I will not trouble you further.”
    Now he was intrigued. He very much wanted to know what she had thought. “Lord Aritomo does not need extra burdens,” he heard himself say. “I will keep whatever you want to confide in me to myself.”
    â€œMy son and I admire you,” Lady Natsue said. “We wonder if Lord Aritomo fully appreciates you. It is wrong that he should not trust you. The Emperor would like you to be closer to him. We are both worried about Lord Aritomo’s health. That is the only reason, you understand…”
    That you are choosing me to replace him? The idea was preposterous, yet he was sure it was what she was hinting at. The heavy scent, the stifling room were making Masachika light-headed.
    â€œIt is a shame Lord Aritomo has no sons,” Lady Natsue said. “Were he to pass away there would be grave danger that the realm would once more be torn apart by war. We must make the succession clear.”
    It was exactly what Masachika hoped for, but he did not trust himself to speak.
    â€œMy son is not happy with his circumstances. He is bored. He is intelligent, you know, and thinks deeply. He does not want