The Initiate Brother Duology

by Russell, Sean

  She would need an ally, that was the decision she had come to. If she were to fall—and that had not happened yet—she would need a powerful supporter, someone the Emperor valued; as he valued Jaku Tadamoto. She knew this because the Emperor had spoken to her about this young man on more than one occasion. He had described Tadamoto in very flattering terms.

  Osha had also considered the elder Jaku—Katta—but he would demand too much of her and then, no doubt, cast her aside. No, she was safer with Tadamoto; he was not as handsome as his older brother, but he was a man of honor and there was much to be said for that.

  So, she was committed to this course, and the plan was simple. With the right ally she could dance again. She could keep her place as the preeminent Sonsa in the capital, and in time she could free herself of the need for others. She would live without a patron.

  Setting her cha down, Osha went to change into her dance costume. She must dance now. Dance until every movement she made was flawless. Her world had changed. There would be no room now for mistakes.

  * * *

  The mats felt cool against his forehead as he bowed before the Most Revered Son of Heaven. Almost, he could have stayed there, eyes closed, feeling the cool grasses against his skin—it felt so safe. But he rose and faced the Emperor, and his green eyes did not waver.

  “I understand that you are addressed now as ‘Colonel’?” the Emperor said.

  “This is true, Sire.”

  “Well, Colonel Jaku Tadamoto, I congratulate you. It is no more than you deserve.”

  “I am honored by your words, Sire.”

  The Emperor nodded. He sat upon the dais, his sword of office held across his lap. Tadamoto thought the Highest One looked as though the concerns of his Empire weighed upon him. Age seemed to show in the Emperor’s face, and he kept pulling his sword half out of its sheath and then pushing it back, as though the sound gave him comfort.

  “You have a report for us from your esteemed brother?”

  “I have, Sire.” Tadamoto removed the sealed scroll from his sleeve and placed it on the edge of the dais. The Emperor paid no attention to it.

  “I have difficult decisions to make, Tadamoto-sum,” the Emperor said suddenly.

  “If I am not being presumptuous, Sire, I would be honored if I could assist in any small way.”

  “You are kind to offer, but these are decisions about my sons, Colonel.”

  “I understand, Emperor.”

  “Do you?” he asked, fixing Tadamoto with a searching gaze.

  “I understand that these would be difficult decisions, Sire.”

  “I see,” the Emperor said, pulling the sword half out of its sheath and pushing it back with a “click.” He looked off, his eyes losing focus. “One of my sons must marry the Lady Nishima. You understand that, don’t you Tadamoto-sum?”

  “I do, Sire.”

  “The problem is many-faced. The Lady Nishima is the loyal protégée of Lord Shonto, a man who plots to gain control of the Throne, yeh?”

  Tadamoto nodded agreement.

  “And there are other problems with the Lady Nishima. Oh, she would be a perfect Empress, that is not in doubt. But she is strong and my sons are weak—it is the fault of my useless wife, she raised them to be fools and effetes.” (click) “So, we have a problem. One must wed the Lady Nishima, and another,” he paused, “another must become…an example. For the one who weds must be educated to his responsibilities. So, one will go to Seh to share in Lord Shonto’s fate—do you understand what that means, Tadamoto-sum?”

  “I do, Emperor.”

  “I appreciate how quickly you see things, Colonel.” (click) “Who would accuse us of plotting the great lord’s fall when our own son falls with him?” The Emperor was silent for a moment. “I wish it were otherwise, but my sons do not serve the Yamaku purpose well, and the one that is to wed must understand that he is not, not…inexpendable.” (click)

  “Katta-sum has been like a son to me.” He pulled the sword half from its sheath, “yet he begins to disappoint me also. This interference with the Lady Nishima….” The Son of Heaven shook his head sadly. “His appetite for ladies from the Great Houses is a terrible weakness, Tadamoto-sum. Perhaps you should speak to him about this—you are wiser than he—Katta-sum listens to your counsel.

  “Your brother has been of great value to us, Colonel, so we have indulged him—it is not always good to indulge a son, if your desire is that he will grow strong, yeh?”

  The Emperor looked around the room as though something were missing, but before he discovered what it was he again became distracted and began to toy with his sword.

  “It is a time of decisions, Tadamoto-sum, it is also a time of focus. The stars align for great occurrences—all of the seers agree. Houses may topple, Empires could be shaken. There can be no mistakes on our part, I hope your brother understands this. If there are mistakes, the whole Empire will be plunged into war. The Yamaku waited a thousand years for our Ascendancy. If it is endangered now….” (click) The Emperor shrugged. “Speak to your brother, Tadamoto-sum; tell him how much his loyalty is valued.”

  Suddenly, the Emperor became present, as though he had just walked into the room. He smiled at Jaku Tadamoto. “We do not wish to burden you with our problems, Tadamoto-sum.”

  “I am honored that you would speak of these things to me, Sire, and certainly I will talk with my brother immediately.”

  The Emperor waved his hand as though this was understood, a small matter. “You have kept a watch on Osha-sum, Colonel?”

  “As you have commanded, Sire.” Tadamoto said too quickly. He was careful now to meet the Emperor’s eyes.

  The Emperor looked up to the heavens. “I have too many decisions. May the gods help me. She does not seem to understand my responsibilities, Tadamoto-sum. It is hard for someone in her position.” He gripped his sword as though he would wring water from it. “Ah, well.” He smiled at Tadamoto.

  “We must speak again, Colonel, it helps to restore my harmony.” He nodded to Tadamoto who touched his head to the mat and backed from the room.

  The Emperor watched the young man go. Will Osha have him? he wondered; it would be difficult after an Emperor. Ah, well, it hardly mattered. She served to keep the young Jaku loyal to his Emperor. He pulled his sword free of its sheath and hefted it, cutting across the air in front of him. Yes, he thought, Osha must be settled soon. She was delightful, it was true, but the Emperor had come to a decision—something he had told no one. He laughed to himself. I am not as old as everyone seems to think! They will soon see. He laughed again. Ah, how we will surprise them! He returned the sword of his office to its scabbard. I will have a new wife! That will give my scheming Empress and her useless sons pause to think.

  He weighed the question again. Lady Nishima was Shonto—in spirit if not in blood. It would not be wise to have her too close to him, not wise at all. But her cousin, the Lady Kitsura Omawara! His blood sang at the thought. Well, he had made no decisions, but there were more paths open to him than those around him realized. Many more.

  All that remained to be done was to rid himself of Shonto Motoru. And then the problem of the Fanisan daughter could be dealt with in any number of ways. Once Shonto was gone, there would be no one left in the realm strong enough to raise the great lords against the Throne. He could do what he pleased.

  His mood of gaiety passed when he thought of his new governor. We cannot fail, he said for the thousandth time. We cannot.

  But was Shonto not ever resourceful? He touched his palms to his forehead and felt the dampness on them. Everything goes as planned, he told himself, I must remain tranquil. I must wait. I must.

  Fourteen

  THE SMALL STREAM which branched from the Grand Canal lay still in the gathering dusk. Willow trees hung over the bank dripping leaves into the dark waters. Hidden along the bank, Shonto guards waited for the boats they knew would come. A whistled signal went from sentry to sentry as their lord’s sampan passed—the
sound of a night bird calling in the dusk.

  The flotilla had been left alongside the stone quay of the nearby town, the crews allowed a few hours ashore—“a break from their toils.” The truth, though, was that the Imperial Governor wished to pay a visit to a very old man who had once been his gii master.

  Shuyun was surprised at this whim of Lord Shonto’s. It was apparent to the young monk that more than just the currents of the canal swept Shonto toward Seh. Other forces, too, powerful forces, propelled the lord north—toward what, Shuyun did not know. Yet Shonto had somehow slipped aside, sloughing off the grip of the currents, to steal down this backwater on an endeavor that seemed merely sentimental.

  The Lord of the Shonto sat beside his Spiritual Advisor in the sampan, saying nothing. Shuyun wondered about this Shonto predilection for loyalty. It had been loyalty that had allowed the first Yamaku Emperor to trap Shonto Motoru’s father—and on that occasion the Shonto had almost been entered on the long scroll of names of Great Houses that were no more.

  This trait of the Shonto, it is both a strength and a weakness, Shuyun thought, so it must be watched, and watched carefully.

  The boats pushed out of the stream onto a small lake, released from shadow into the last of the day’s light. The colors of evening spread in a wash across the western horizon, running from cloud to cloud. There wasn’t a breeze to stir the surface of the lake and the sky seemed to lie on the water like a perfect print of the unfolding sunset.

  On the far side of the lake, smoke curled out of the trees, and, as Shonto’s sampan approached, a dock came into view, seeming to detach itself from the shadow of the bank. And then, behind it, the outline of a roof appeared. The boats of Shonto’s guards lay drawn up on a narrow, sand beach, and the soldiers stood watch from the shadows of ancient trees.

  As they approached the small wooden dock, a captain of Shonto’s elite guard gave the “all clear” handsign from the wharfhead and the sampan slipped alongside. The guards knelt as Lord Shonto and his Spiritual Advisor emerged from their craft.

  Raising his head, the captain nodded to his lord.

  “Yes?” Shonto said.

  “Excuse me, Sire,” and he gestured toward the nearby point.

  There, in the shallows under the branches of a tono tree, a tall bird stood silhouetted against the sunset in the waters.

  “An autumn crane,” Shonto whispered, his pleasure evident.

  “A good omen, Sire,” the guard said.

  Yes, Shonto thought, and his mind went back to the coins of Kowan-sing—the crane had been the pattern cast for his daughter. Nishi-sum, the lord thought, you will be safe, I will not fail. He stayed for a moment, watching.

  The crane stood, unmoving, and as the dark flowed out from among the trees and across the lake, it became easier to believe that the great bird was nothing more than a bent branch emerging from the waters. Just as Shonto was no longer sure of what he saw, the crane struck, coming up with a wiggling fish in its bill. It took two steps to the sand, disappearing into the shadows and then, an instant later, it emerged on the wing, sweeping across the water in slow powerful strokes. Where the wingtips touched, perfect rings appeared in the water’s surface.

  Shonto nodded to the captain and then turned toward the shore, Shuyun a step behind.

  The lord had said very little on the short trip from the town, and he did not seem to want to break that silence now. Shuyun had expected to learn something more of the man they went to visit, but this did not happen. A favored teacher of the Shonto and a famous gii master, that was all the information he had—except for the man’s name, Myochin Ekun, and that Shuyun recognized from his own study of the board. The games of Myochin Ekun were among those chosen as exemplary, by the teaching Brothers. These were then examined by the Neophyte monks, who were taught to play gii so that they might learn to focus their young minds.

  Myochin Ekun. Shuyun felt as if he was about to meet someone from the past, a legend in fact—Myochin Ekun: gii master of gii masters.

  How is it that the Shonto drew such people to them? Shuyun wondered. The answer was almost too obvious—they were the Shonto. And now he had come to them, Initiate Brother Shuyun. This thought left him with nothing but questions.

  Unlike the Lady Nishima, Shuyun thought, I cannot see the future. My history will be bound with that of the Shonto or I will be unknown. It does not matter, he reminded himself. One’s karma is not dependent on one’s service to the Shonto.

  They approached the house in the trees. Shuyun could make it out now, a low building with a simple tile roof. There was no garden wall, though a sparse garden had been arranged around the porch.

  An old man who does not take an interest in his garden, Shuyun thought, how odd.

  Servants knelt beside the walkway to the house, most of them older. They smiled with great pleasure as Shonto passed, and Shuyun was surprised by the lack of respect this showed. But then, Shonto stopped before an old woman who glowed like a proud mother.

  “Kashiki-sum, you grow younger by the year.” The lord smiled, almost boyishly.

  The woman laughed, the laugh of a girl, musical, light, without cares. “It is the waters, Sire, we all approach the Immortals here. But it is you who have remained young.” She broke into a large grin. “Young enough to take another wife, I’m sure all would agree.”

  Everyone laughed, Shonto harder than the rest.

  “I am waiting until I am older, Kashiki-sum, I must slow down somewhat before a young woman will be able to keep up with me.” Shonto bowed to the woman and, as he did so, gave a hand signal to a nearby guard. “I have brought you something from the capital. Something for each of you.”

  The staff bowed their thanks and Shonto went on.

  Of course, he knows all of these servants, Shuyun realized, perhaps they helped raise him as a child.

  There was only a single step to the porch and here knelt the senior member of Myochin Ekun’s staff.

  “You honor us with your visit, Lord Shonto, Brother.”

  “The honor is ours, Leta. Where is your master?”

  “He awaits you inside, Sire.” The man rose, and taking a lantern from a hook, led them into the darkened house. It was a small and comfortable home, open on three sides where screens had been pushed back. The servant held the lantern aloft to light three wide steps that led to the next level. There, in the gloom, Shuyun could just make out the form of a man, sitting, bent low over a table.

  “Master Myochin?” the servant said in a loud voice.

  The form straightened, surprised by the sound.

  “Your guests are here, Master.”

  He turned to them now, long white hair in confusion, framing a face old with the whiteness of age, skin as translucent as the wax of a candle. Shuyun was startled by the man’s eyes, porcelain white, pure, unmarred by the dark circle of a pupil.

  He is blind, Shuyun thought, he has been blind all of his days.

  This apparition in a white robe smiled as benignly as a statue of Botahara.

  “Motoru-sum?” came a soft voice.

  “I am here, Eku-sum.”

  “Ah, what pleasure your voice brings. Come. Bring light for our guests, Leta. Come, Motoru-sum. You are not alone?”

  “I am with my Spiritual Advisor, Brother Shuyun.”

  “I am honored. It is always a pleasure to have a pilgrim of the Seven Paths in my home. Do the young monks still play gii, Brother Shuyun?”

  “They do, Master Myochin. And your games are chief among their lessons.”

  “After all these years?” His already apparent pleasure increased noticeably. “I do not deserve to be so honored. Still play my games? Imagine.”

  Servants brought lamps and mead for the gii master and his guests. It was a most pleasant house, warm with the colors of rich woods. The scent of the nearby pines traveled freely through the open walls and an owl could be heard, calling softly over the lake.

  Lord Shonto and his teacher talked briefly of Shonto’s
staff, the old man asking specifically after several people, Shonto’s son and Lady Nishima first among them. To be polite to Shuyun, the conversation then turned to other things, the old man impressing the monk with his knowledge of the affairs of the Empire. It was hard to imagine how he received his information, the lake seemed so far removed from the rest of Wa. But the truth was, it was close to the canal and, as an Empress had once said, “if we could tax the rumors traveling the Grand Canal, we should not need to bother with the cargo.”

  “So you have taken this appointment to Seh, Motoru-sum?”

  “I had little choice.”

  The old man nodded, a gesture Shuyun knew he could never have seen.

  “I suppose that is true. Sometimes you must step into the danger. You are too strong, Motoru-sum, he cannot abide that,” the old man said in his soft voice. He seemed to pause for a moment, listening. “We must accept certain inevitabilities. You will never make peace with the Emperor as equals. Do not imagine it, Motoru-sum. That is the real trap for you, but it can never be. There is only one winner at the gii board. Do not have false hopes that Akantsu will come to his senses. He will not.”

  “I have thought the same thing.” Shonto said.

  The old man broke into a smile. “Of course you have. I did not waste my time training you!” He laughed.

  As they spoke, Shuyun noticed that Lord Shonto’s eyes were repeatedly drawn to the gii board set on the nearby table. Finally the lord could no longer contain his curiosity. “I see you cannot give it up entirely.” He reached over and tapped the wooden table.

  “Ah, well. It is the habit of a lifetime and I must do something to fill my days. Do you know, I have found a third solution to the Soto problem.”

  “Really?” Shonto’s interest rose immediately.

  “Yes, I was as surprised as you.”

  “I know the Kundima solution.” Shonto said.

  “Yes, my own teacher.”

  “And the Fujiki solution,” Shuyun offered.

  “Ah, Brother Shuyun, you do know the game.”