“It is a problem most lords wish they suffered from, Sire.”
“Tanaka-sum, I bow to your sense of duty. Another time.”
Tanaka bowed to the two lords and took his leave, walking away with the quiet dignity Shonto admired.
“So, Lord Komawara, I’m sure the two of us can enjoy our food as much as three?”
Komawara nodded. Servants brought the midday meal—simple but delectable fare, elegantly served in the summerhouse overlooking the pond of yellow water lilies. Under the influence of the food, the fine wine and Shonto’s conversation, Komawara achieved an almost euphoric state. Being a Shonto ally looked less daunting than it had seemed earlier.
“The food, Lord Shonto, was of a quality that would satisfy an Emperor.”
Shonto bowed slightly. “You are kind to say so. Cha?”
“Thank you, that would be perfect.”
The rustle of silk was heard from the path below and then Lady Nishima appeared, on cue, followed by two of her ladies-in-waiting and a young maid. If Komawara had found her enchanting in the moonlight, he realized that the sunlight brought out her true beauty, as it did the flower of the morning-vine.
Dressed in a robe of spring green embroidered with a pattern of falling ginkyo leaves, the Lady Nishima Fanisan Shonto seemed to shine among her companions, as though the sunlight did not bless them with its warmth. She stopped and bent down to examine a bush by the edge of the walk, and the gold of her inner kimonos appeared at the nape of her fine neck. Lord Komawara felt both thrilled and terribly nervous.
At the sight of her uncle, Nishima smiled with unconcealed affection. She handed her parasol to the maid and stepped out of her sandals before entering the summerhouse. The two lords returned her formal bow.
“Nishima-sum, how kind of you to join us.”
“The kindness was yours in inviting me, Uncle.” She took a fan, shaped like a large ginkyo leaf, from her sleeve pocket and waved it open in an easy gesture. “Lord Komawara, how pleasant to see you again so soon. Did you enjoy the Emperor’s party?”
“Entirely. I have had the sounds of your music with me ever since and it has made my day most pleasant.”
“You are too kind,” she said, but she was not displeased by the praise.
“Have you met our new Spiritual Advisor?” Shonto asked.
Nishima turned her attention to her uncle now. She examined his face, looking for signs of the attempt on his life, but she saw no concern or anxiety. Indeed, he seemed entirely relaxed—she glanced at his companion out of the corner of her eye.
“I have not, Sire, though I understand he is to join us.”
Shonto nodded toward the pathway and Nishima saw a young monk of the Botahist Order walking toward them.
Yes, Nishima thought, that is him, I remember. And the diminutive monk in the kick boxing ring became clear in her memory. The other fighters had appeared so massive and the boy-monk had seemed so small…yet completely calm. The same calm was somehow still apparent in this Brother, and as she watched him approach she was overcome with an unexpected emotion. Suddenly, the Lady Nishima wanted to hide. She looked around almost in a panic, then her years of training took charge and she regained her composure. But she was disturbed by this sudden surge of emotion, left shaken by it.
The monk, Shuyun, stopped at the entry to the summerhouse and bowed to his liege-lord and his guests.
“Brother Shuyun, please join us.” Shonto said and gestured to the servants. A table large enough for four was exchanged for the individual tables and this gesture surprised Lady Nishima, for such an arrangement was usually reserved for immediate family only.
Brother Shuyun was formally introduced to Lady Nishima and Lord Komawara, neither of whom betrayed a trace of the intense curiosity they felt for this young Initiate. Lady Nishima was especially intrigued after the report she had received of the monk’s display that morning.
The utensils for the making of cha came and Lady Nishima, as one of the most famed hostesses in the capital, took charge of the preparation. At the same time she guided the conversation deftly and with great charm, impressing Lord Komawara, who was intimidated by the urbanity of the women he met in the capital.
The drinking of cha, like every activity of the aristocracy, was formalized and governed by its own particular aesthetic, though among the aristocrats, it had not taken on the aspects of ritual that it had among certain sects within Wa. In its existing state of formality, Lady Nishima was able to bring her considerable imagination to bear upon the social aspects of drinking cha. Today she had it in mind to do something different, something that she knew no one present would associate with cha. How to introduce it in a manner that seemed natural, that was her problem.
“Will you come to Seh with Lord Shonto, Brother Shuyun?” Komawara asked. He has having trouble not staring at Lady Nishima, though his warrior’s discipline was just barely winning.
“It is for Lord Shonto to decide,” the monk said, and offered no more.
Lady Nishima felt sudden resentment toward the Botahist monk and his cold manner. It is their way, she thought. But still it annoyed her. Looking at the monk kneeling across the table from her, she searched for the man behind the mask. This had been an obsession for her with Brother Satake, their former Spiritual Advisor. With Satake-sum she would stoop to almost any ploy to see him laugh or grow impatient—anything that seemed a human emotion. It had been a frustrating campaign, for she had seldom been successful.
When the tea had been poured and offered in its proper way, Lady Nishima began to ask Lord Komawara questions about Seh and about the barbarians and their motives.
Lord Komawara answered her, being careful not to let the conversation stray too far from the approved tone for such occasions. “Their motives are not the same as ours, Lady Nishima. You cannot understand them in our terms. As to what will happen, who can say? I cannot tell the future, and for this I apologize.” He bowed with mock sincerity.
“Lord Komawara, there is no need to apologize to me for not being able to predict the future. I am quite capable of doing that myself.”
Knowing his daughter’s humor, Shonto took the bait quickly, “Nishi-sum, how is it that I have not been aware of this talent? Or was it simply lost among your myriad of other gifts?”
“Not at all, Sire, it is as you say. You are far too perceptive not to have noticed such an ability in your favorite daughter. The reason that you have not, until now, been aware of this skill is that I myself became aware of it only this morning. In fact it was just after sunrise. I sat combing my hair when suddenly I was overcome by…” her eyes went wide, “Deep Insight! Yes, and I thought immediately, I must tell all of those around me of their futures. They will find it most useful.”
“Ah,” Shonto said, keeping a straight face, “Deep Insight! Do the Botahist Brothers have experience of this phenomenon, Shuyun-sum?”
“Certainly, Lord Shonto, and it is well known that it is most often experienced while combing one’s hair. That is the reason Neophyte monks must shave their heads—so they don’t experience Deep Insight before they are prepared for such a momentous occurrence.” As he finished saying this he smiled, causing a thrill to course through the Lady Nishima.
The man behind the mask! she thought, but then the smile was gone and across the table sat one of the Silent Ones, unmoving, without apparent emotions.
“Well, Lady Fortune Teller, I, for one, would be interested in seeing what can result from Deep Insight, if you would so honor us.” Shonto said.
“Gladly, Sire, but I must warn each of you…I can take no responsibility for what you may learn of your futures, either good or bad.”
“Agreed,” Komawara said, “only the gods will be held responsible.” And then remembering the Botahist monk, “Botahara willing,” he added.
The assembled guests acted as though they had not heard the reference to the gods, the mythological beings that the Botahist religion had replaced, but Shonto found himself thinkin
g, Well, it is true, he is from the provinces.
From her sleeve pocket Nishima took an ornate canister of black leather decorated with a pattern of white wisteria. She shook it and the jangle of coins caused everyone to laugh for they all knew the sound—the coins of Kowan-sing.
Kowan-sing was one of the innumerable methods of divination popular in Wa. Almost every possible object had been used at one time in an attempt to foretell the future: bones, the lines of the face, stones, crystals, entrails, cards, even the gii board. Kowan-sing, though, had history to lend it credibility, for it was thought to have been practiced by the indigenous people. The people who had been displaced by the Five Princes so long ago that the histories could not agree on a time.
“Who shall be first?” Lady Nishima asked, rattling coins again.
“Lord Komawara must have that honor,” Lord Shonto insisted.
Cups were moved aside so the coins could be cast.
“Are you ready to know your future, Lord Komawara?” Nishima asked.
Lord Komawara nodded, and in one fluid motion Nishima spread the seven silver coins across the table.
All heads bent forward to examine the arrangement of the coins.
“It is clear that the pattern here is The Boat, Lord Komawara, symbol of both travel and prosperity.” Nishima said, not raising her eyes from the table.
“With the slight movement of two coins it could easily be The Cloud, could it not?” Lord Shonto asked.
The Cloud was the symbol for romance, as all knew, and Lord Shonto’s comment caused Komawara some discomfort.
But Lady Nishima did not seem embarrassed by what Lord Shonto implied. “As you say, Uncle, but The Boat is too clear for The Cloud to be influential here, excuse me for saying so.”
“I bow to your superior source of knowledge,” Shonto said, nodding to his daughter.
“Here, Lord Komawara, it can be seen that one coin spoils the line of the keel.” She touched the coin with a long finger, careful not to change its position. “It indicates a danger to you, something you should beware of, perhaps, as The Boat indicates, on your return journey north. But also, prosperity may hold some danger for you. And again here, the coins that make the mast show that it is falling, indicating that there is danger in your immediate future. Only you could know what this might be.” She touched another coin, the only one that did not bear the outline of the Mountain of Divine Inspiration. “Here, the Prime Kowan is temptation; the open fan. Only time will tell what is hidden by the fan. All that can be said with certainty is that temptation will figure in your future, possibly related to prosperity, I cannot be sure. But temptation can be dangerous.” Nishima looked up and the serious faces of her companions reminded her that she had meant this to be fun.
“You seem to attract danger, Lord Komawara,” she said in a whisper. “Perhaps it is unwise for us to sit so close to you.” She looked about with wide eyes, as though something terrible was about to fall on them from the sky. Everyone laughed in appreciation. And then, in the voice of an old crone, “you must keep your sword sharp, young Sire. The great world is full of…danger! You must watch behind you…and in front of you, not forgetting either side. Danger, danger, danger…” Her voice trailed off and her companions broke into applause.
Water arrived, and Lady Nishima took a moment to prepare more cha.
“Now, Uncle, I believe you must be next.”
“I am honored.”
Lady Nishima collected the coins and shook them again in their leather canister. Twice she removed the top and was about to cast them when she stopped, as though inspiration had fled. But then she looked up, a mischievous grin on her face.
“You do enjoy tormenting me, don’t you,” Shonto said.
And his daughter laughed and cast the coins of Kowan-sing, her long sleeve streaming behind the graceful sweep of her arm.
Shonto put his elbow on the table so that it hid the coins from the young woman’s view. “Ah, Nishi-sum! This is most interesting, most unusual!”
Laughing with the others, she snatched his arm out of the way. “Ah, Uncle, this is interesting. Who would think that your pattern would be The Dragon? It is not as clear a pattern as Lord Komawara’s, but the eyes are certain, and here,” she pointed, “is a curving tail. The Dragon symbolizes both power and mystery.”
Nishima paused then, examining the coins with complete concentration. In the distance, a flock of cranes passed south over the plain, unnoticed by the occupants of the summerhouse.
“Mystery and power are the keys to your future, perhaps there is a power that will affect you and your endeavors, yet the source of this power will be unknown. The body of The Dragon itself seems to be twisted in an unusual manner, as though the power will appear in an unexpected form. Here,” she touched a coin, which this time had landed with the fan down, exposing the other side: the Sheathed Sword, “the Prime Kowan is the hidden threat. It cannot be known if the sword is sharp or dull, but it is always a danger and must never be ignored. The sheathed sword also indicates treachery—danger from an ally perhaps.”
“Can it not also indicate peace?” Shonto asked.
“It can, Sire. But in combination with The Dragon, this does not seem the most likely interpretation. Excuse me for saying so.”
Shonto shrugged. “It is you who speak from Deep Insight.”
“Perhaps, Sire, you should seclude yourself for the remainder of the year in our summer palace.” Nishima smiled. “I believe I deserve a reward for my work. Cha. Does anyone wish to join me?”
Cha was brewed again. Secretly, Lady Nishima wished to cast the fortune of their new Spiritual Advisor, but would never suggest this, being unsure of his opinion of such frivolity. Yet she was curious to know what the coins would tell about this quiet monk who was now a member of their inner Household. She was curious, not least of all because she felt there had been some truth in what she had told the others. Some of the things she had said she had felt certain of in some inexplicable way.
Do I grow superstitious? she wondered, but Shonto interrupted this train of thought.
“Nishi-sum, it seems unfair that we have received the benefit of your Deep Insight, and yet your own future remains unknown to you. This cannot be correct.” Shonto watched Komawara out of the corner of his eye but realized the young lord was too shy to take up the suggestion himself. Ah, well, Shonto thought, I have started this and now I will have to carry it through.
“I believe what Lord Shonto says is true, Lady Nishima,” Shuyun said in his quiet tones. “It is only proper that you should know what the future holds for you. I would be honored to cast the coins for you, though I cannot claim to have your skill with them.”
No one showed the surprise they felt at the monk’s offer. Komawara immediately regretted his hesitation to make this proposal himself, for Nishima obviously was immensely flattered.
“I could never refuse such a kind offer, Brother Shuyun.”
Collecting the coins in the canister, Lady Nishima passed it to Shuyun, but as she did so she was seized by a desire to fling them into the garden, as though what her future might hold was too frightening. But she did offer them and the monk shook the canister, producing what suddenly seemed an ominous rattle.
As deftly as Lady Nishima, Shuyun spread the coins across the table and as they came to rest Nishima could see that her fears had been groundless. They were only the coins of Kowan-sing, familiar, worn, in need of a polishing. What she had expected she did not know—something disturbing—coins she had never seen, bearing haunting images and an unwanted message. She closed her eyes and felt relief wash through her. It is the curse of my blood, the name that follows me like a banner. May it never become the rallying point for the war that so many desire. She shuddered involuntarily. Opening her eyes she tried to smile.
“Are you well, Lady?” Shuyun asked, his eyes searching her own.
“Well?” she said. “How can I be well. Look at this pattern. Is it not The Mountain, the symbol
for calculated waiting and enlightenment.” She laughed. “I have no patience whatsoever, it is my shame to admit. If I am to have enlightenment I would like it to arrive by sunset at the latest.” She laughed again, a delightful laugh.
Shuyun smiled. “But Lady Nishima, I may be wrong, but I believe this is The Crane, symbol of the aesthetic, of beauty and art.”
“Botahara has guided your hand, Brother.” Shonto said.
The monk nodded. “Your reputation as an artist has reached even the Oracle, Lady Nishima. yet here The Crane stands erect, waiting. Patient, as you must be patient, even though you claim not to be. It is this waiting that makes a great artist. And look, your Prime Kowan is also the open fan. As you have said, this is the symbol for temptation, but it may also indicate that the artist cannot hide behind the painted fan. The artist must show herself. Part of her inner beauty must appear in her work. Of course temptation should not be ruled out, perhaps temptation that is related to the aesthetic or to beauty, I cannot say.” He bowed toward her and again fell silent.
“I thank you, Brother Shuyun. It will be an honor to have your wisdom in the Shonto House.”
After more mead, Lord Komawara offered to recite a poem he had just composed. All assented readily for poetry was common, even expected, on such occasions. Komawara had hesitated only because of Lady Nishima’s reputation as a poetess.
“A crane waits, staring down at
green water.
Is it drawn to a reflection?
Does it watch for movement
In the still waters?”
There was silence for a moment, as was the custom, so that the poem could be considered.
“You have been hiding your talent as a poet from us, Lord Komawara,” Nishima said, and there was no doubting the sincerity of her words.
Komawara bowed. “Knowing of your skill, Lady Nishima, I thank you for your words, which are more than kind.”
“Nishi-sum, you must have a poem for us,” Shonto said, “You are never without inspiration.”
The Initiate Brother Duology Page 17
