The Initiate Brother Duology

by Russell, Sean

  Brother Hutto sipped cha that had gone cold in its bowl. He considered a long time before speaking again. “It would be better if Shonto lived and the Emperor fell, would it not, Brother?”

  “Hutto-sum, these are dangerous words.”

  “With the Yamaku on the Dragon Throne, we will always be in danger.”

  Sotura changed the subject. “What of the barbarians, does your intelligence extend to them also?”

  “Among the barbarians I have no one, but the Brothers in Seh cross into the wastes as they can and they are concerned, as no doubt we would be if we lived under threat of constant attack. There are rumors again that the Golden Khan has come—at least the fifth time in my short life this has been said. Seh, sadly, is far away. I will be interested in your assessment of the situation.”

  “And the Emperor, what of him?”

  “It seems likely that he will ask Lord Omawara for the hand of Lady Kitsura.” Brother Hutto enjoyed the look of shock on his companion’s face.

  “Truly?”

  Brother Hutto nodded once.

  “So, the Empress feels a need to retire to a life of spiritual contemplation. I did not imagine this, not at all. More Imperial progeny. Now we shall see a House divided!” Brother Sotura fell silent, contemplating this new information.

  “The Supreme Master will be most interested in this. The Lady Kitsura Omawara!” Brother Sotura shook his head. “What of the Sisters? Does their internal struggle continue?”

  “It does, Brother, but we must not be deceived. It is not the Prioress, Sister Saeja, who is occupied with this problem—it is the faction that opposes her. The old nun keeps an eye turned outward. Events in the Empire do not escape her, even a talented young Brother is worthy of her attention.”

  “So there is no indication of who will win the struggle when she is gone?”

  Brother Hutto shrugged. “Perhaps you should consult a fortune teller. I would not even begin to guess.”

  “Then no one can know, Brother.”

  “Shall I order more cha, Sotura-sum?”

  “I am honored that you ask, but it grows late. I must return to my brethren. If you could include your thoughts about these matters in your next report to the Supreme Master, I’m sure his harmony would be enhanced.”

  “I would deem it an honor if I could assist our Brother in this way,” the Primate said, bowing to his guest. “There is something else, Brother,” Hutto said as the chi quan instructor stood.

  Sotura stopped, almost crouching. “Yes.”

  “Another Brother, senior Master Den-Go, has disappeared.”

  Brother Sotura straightened. “I have forgotten, Brother; how many is this?”

  “Twenty-two.”

  Sotura expelled a long controlled breath, and put his hand to his brow as though there were sudden pain. “In all our history I know of nothing as strange as these disappearances.”

  “There is one other thing, Brother.” The Primate paused, watching Sotura’s face. “I have not yet confirmed this, but I have received a reliable report from Monarta…it is said the Udumbara has blossomed on the slopes above the Perfect Master’s shrine.”

  The chi quan master sank back to his knees. “This cannot be true. It isn’t possible.”

  Neither man spoke for several long minutes.

  “Who could it be?” Sotura whispered finally. “Even among our most Enlightened Brothers there is no one who has progressed so far. No…it is not possible.”

  Hutto nodded. “Perhaps you are right.” But the old monk looked like a man whose soul was overcome by doubt.

  Brother Sotura felt his heart racing while some calm part of his mind noted that this had not happened since he had been trained in the ways of the Brotherhood.

  “An Enlightened Master,” Sotura heard himself whisper. It could not be.

  Twenty-six

  The west wind blows

  And the grasses bow to my passing,

  Perfect golden grasses

  What do they know of my thoughts?

  Or of the heart

  They have torn asunder.

  The Empress Shigei

  AS DAYLIGHT APPROACHED, Lady Nishima was barely able to hide her impatience. In the privacy of her rooms, she paced up and down the matted floor, regretting that Kitsura had gone. Not that she would necessarily have shared the information she had received from Tanaka, but still, it would have been comforting to have company.

  Beginning a simple series of exercises taught to her by Brother Satake, Nishima attempted to subvert the thoughts that distracted her and pulled at her consciousness. With a great effort of will, she fell into the almost trancelike state the exercise required and began to feel the strange sensation of time slowing. It was only for an instant, a feeling so fleeting that it might have been imagined. But Nishima knew it was not. She opened her eyes and let out a long sigh. If only Brother Satake had been able to teach her more.

  A light tap on the shoji reminded her of the things she had pushed from her mind, and it all came rushing back—the Emperor, Katta-sum, the message from Tanaka. The screen slid aside at a word from Nishima and a maidservant entered carrying a folded letter on a small silver tray. Lady Nishima controlled an urge to leap to her feet and snatch the letter. Instead, she sat staring at an arrangement of flowers set into an alcove in the wall.

  “Please excuse me, my lady. I did not mean to interrupt your meditations.”

  “You have acted correctly, Hara.”

  The maid knelt and set the tray carefully on the writing table. “Would you care for your morning meal, Lady Nishima?”

  “Not now, Hara, I will call.”

  Nishima reached forward for the letter but stopped when she realized that her maid had not moved to leave.

  “Hara?”

  The maid nodded and drew in a sharp breath. “Excuse my boldness, Lady Nishima…” she began, and then stammered to a halt.

  “What is it, Hara?” Nishima asked, keeping impatience from her voice.

  “I fear I have conducted myself in a manner unworthy of your trust, my lady,” the young woman said in a near whisper.

  Now what is this? Nishima wondered. An indiscretion, no doubt. That handsome assistant to Kamu I would wager, but why tell me? “The Shonto value the truth, Hara. Please go on.”

  “During my retreat to the priory at Kano I met a senior Sister, a highly respected member of the Order, Lady Nishima.” The young woman glanced up at the eyes that studied her and then back to the floor. A blush of crimson spread across her cheek. “I spoke with her several times. I…I was flattered by her attention…. She seemed very impressed that I served the Shonto House and, my lady, she praised you very highly. I did not mark it at the time, but she was very curious about the Shonto and as she was a Sister of such high standing…” her voice became suddenly thick, “I was perhaps less discreet than I would otherwise have been.” The woman took a deep breath and it escaped from her in a half sob. She did not raise her eyes.

  “I see.” Lady Nishima folded her hands in her lap. “I must know how indiscreet, Hara. It is important that you leave out nothing.”

  The maid nodded quickly, obviously frightened, which in turn made Nishima fear the worst.

  “She asked about our lord, about his character and his habits. She wanted to know if he was a good master or if he beat his servants.”

  “And what did you tell her?”

  “My lady, I have nothing but praise for Lord Shonto.”

  “I see. Go on.”

  “The honored Sister asked about our lord’s friends, though of course this is no secret and certainly many people know who frequents the Shonto house.” She paused as if to gather her thoughts. “She asked me if I knew when Lord Shonto had left for Seh, which again was no secret. She asked who among Lord Shonto’s staff were loyal followers of the true path. Also, she asked many questions about our new Spiritual Advisor, but of course he was here such a short time I could tell her little.”

  “Did y
ou tell her of Brother Shuyun’s display when he shattered the table?”

  The maid nodded her head silently, knowing by her lady’s tone that it was as she had feared—she had been played for a fool.

  “Continue.”

  “She asked also about Brother Satake though I could tell her nothing, for I did not know him.”

  Lady Nishima put her hand to her face as though she would hide how pale she had become.

  “She had great praise for Brother Satake, as does everyone.” She fell silent again, searching for words or for courage. “Something else she asked, though I did not understand what she meant. This seemed important to her, though I do not understand why. She asked if you danced secretly, my lady.” The maid looked up, curiosity as well as fear in her eyes.

  Lady Nishima dropped her hand back into her lap, fighting now for control. How could they ever know? she wondered, and felt her breath begin to come in short gasps. Closing her eyes, Nishima forced herself to breathe normally. How could anyone know?—she was so careful. The Sisters? Nishima had no contact with them—no contact with them at all! Opening her eyes, Nishima forced herself to focus.

  “Did this Sister…did she explain what she meant by this, Hara?” Lady Nishima asked evenly.

  “‘Danced secretly,’ were her words, Lady Nishima. Is that not strange?”

  Nishima shrugged with an ease she did not feel. “Was there more?”

  “The Sister also asked about Jaku Katta-sum; if he came here often and if I had heard the story of the Bla…of Jaku Katta-sum saving Lord Shonto. Of course I had, it was common knowledge throughout the capital. I told her that Lord Shonto had honored the general with a gift from his private garden.” The maid kept her eyes cast down. “That is all, Lady Nishima.”

  “Are you certain, Hara?”

  The maid closed her eyes, hesitating and then nodded.

  “Hara?”

  “Please, my lady…” A tear appeared at the corner of each eye.

  “You must tell me,” Nishima said softly.

  “Yes, my lady. The senior Sister wanted to know if you had…lovers.” She whispered the word, her eyes still closed and her face distorted by the effort to hold back her tears.

  “I see.”

  “She seemed to suggest that it would not be uncommon…that it would be…as Lord Shonto was not your blood father, that…”

  Nishima felt the sting of her hand striking the maid’s face before she realized what she had done. The young woman lay stretched out on the floor like a pile of scattered clothes. She did not move.

  Nishima froze, horrified. She looked at her hand which she held away from her as though it were something dangerous, something not part of her.

  Oh, Satake-sum, you taught me too well and too little. She slid across the grass mats to the unconscious maid and felt for a heartbeat. Yes, it was there, thank Botahara! Rising to her feet, Nishima slid the shoji aside and was relieved to find the hall empty. Rohku Saicha should be told of this, she thought. But what of these questions? Dancing secretly! How would she explain that?

  Nishima closed the screen quietly. Why were the Sisters suddenly interested in her? I am Shonto, she thought, that is reason enough. But still, the Sisters? She shook her head. What will I tell Captain Rohku? She leaned her forehead against the shoji’s wooden frame. Behind her the maid stirred and moaned softly.

  Nishima crossed the room and took the young woman’s head in her lap.

  “Hara?” she said quietly.

  “Lady Nishima?” the maid mumbled. “What…?”

  “Shh. You are unhurt. Be still now.”

  “But what happened?” The woman tried to sit up, but Nishima held her gently.

  “I don’t know, Hara. Be still. Don’t struggle.”

  “But I was struck, my lady. I…it felt as though I were struck. May Botahara protect me. What happened?” She began to weep softly.

  “Shh, my child. I don’t know, it…it was terrible.” Nishima fought her own tears. “Take long breaths, like this. Do as I do.” Nishima led her through a simple breathing exercise, all the while stroking the young woman’s brow.

  “There, now, is that not better?”

  The maid nodded. “Thank you, my lady. The gods are angry with me. I don’t know what I shall do!”

  “There are ways to appease the gods. Of course there are.” Nishima thought for a second. “You must burn incense at the Seven Shrines and take a vow of silence for one year. You will be forgiven, but you must observe these things and not falter.”

  Hara nodded. “Thank you, my lady. I am not worthy of your attention.”

  “Shh. Tomorrow you will begin your vow of silence. The gods will forgive you, Hara.”

  “I pity the enemies of our lord, my lady.”

  Nishima nodded. “Yes,” she said in a whisper. “Yes.”

  After a few moments the maid was able to stand without help, and when Nishima was sure she could manage, the woman left quietly. “Not a word of this,” Nishima said as the maid left and she received a bow in answer.

  When she was alone again, Nishima sat with her fingers pressed to her eyes. I struck someone! I struck her in anger. She shook her head in disbelief. What a terrible, terrible thing. It was this situation, Nishima told herself, it must be. Caught in the city while her uncle went off to the north without knowledge of things that put him in great danger. And this madness for an Imperial Guardsman! She buried her face in her hands. It was all more than she could bear.

  Closing her eyes, Nishima began a long prayer for forgiveness, and felt somewhat better. I am Shonto, she told herself, and forced a calmness over her fears and confusion. My lord’s life may depend on my ability to make clear decisions. Tranquillity of purpose, she heard Brother Satake say. Tranquillity of purpose.

  We will survive, Nishima told herself, only if our course of action comes from the very center of a pure and tranquil spirit. She composed herself then and again practiced a breathing exercise to bring a stillness to her spirit. When she was done, she opened her eyes and looked around as though she had been transported to a new place and she was seeing it for the first time.

  Daylight could be seen filtering through the screens and Nishima was glad. She leaned forward and blew out the lamp. It was then that she remembered the letter. She took it up—a tiny branch of slip-maple attached to a letter of deep purple mulberry paper.

  It was folded in the most conventional manner, and not particularly elegantly. This cannot be from Lady Okara, Nishima thought, it is not possible. Spreading out the paper she took a second to recognize the hand. Katta-sum! He had taken his time, she thought, but then, considering his literary abilities, she was not surprised.

  Moving to the outside screen, Lady Nishima opened it a crack and the cold air of morning seemed to flood in like water into a lock.

  A whisper in the darkness,

  The breeze speaks

  In the voice of the poetess.

  This cannot be the wind

  From Chou-San?

  There is much to say, my lady.

  Nishima read the poem through again. It was much better than she would have expected. Was it possible Jaku did not intend the double meaning of his final line? No, it was too obvious, certainly it was intentional.

  The reference to Seh unsettled Nishima. Oh, Uncle, she thought, will the gods strike your enemies as Hara thought they had tonight?

  She smoothed the paper on the small table, recalling the kiss she had allowed Jaku. The memory was almost as thrilling as she had found the kiss itself.

  Nishima pushed the screen closed. This is foolish, she told herself. I have much to do. Decisions to make! When will I receive an answer from Lady Okara? It is only sunrise, Nishima told herself, I am too impatient.

  Taking up a resin stick, she began to rub her inkstone rhythmically. I must answer Katta-sum, she thought, it will fill the time. But I must not rush the answer back to him, it is important that he not be overconfident. From an envelope she chose a pie
ce of pale green paper, the color of fall grains, and a reminder of spring.

  She wet her brush and began:

  The wind whispers its secrets

  To so many,

  It is difficult to tell

  From where it blows.

  Perhaps it is loyalty we should speak of.

  There, she thought, blowing gently on the fresh ink. She held the paper up to the light and examined the writing. It was not the work of Brother Satake, but he would have approved. Certainly it would have the desired effect on the impetuous Katta—I am from a different station in life, my handsome general, mark this well.

  She laid the poem carefully on the table and began to fold the fine paper, her long fingers seeming to have knowledge independent of her mind. It was done in a second, but she knew it would take Jaku Katta a few minutes to find the key to unfolding it.

  She set the letter aside to allow herself time to consider what should accompany it. Perhaps a leaf of laughing poplar? She would see.

  Nishima rang a small gong on her writing desk and a maid appeared almost without sound. “I wish to see Lady Kento and I will have my smaller meal.”

  Lady Kento, Nishima’s senior lady-in-waiting, arrived almost immediately. Senior in this case was a relative term, Kento was only three years older than her young mistress. Nishima had an obvious partiality to Lady Kento which caused a certain amount of jealousy among the other ladies-in-waiting. But it couldn’t be helped; Kento was simply more joyous than the others as well as being brighter. It was true that others surpassed her in many ways, Lady Jusha was a superb yara player, and the young Lady Shishika was never wrong in her advice on matters of ceremony and propriety, but they were not really close to their mistress. Their souls were not akin to hers.

  The tiny Lady Kento knelt and bowed, her attractive round face beaming even though it was composed in the most serious manner.

  “Will you join me for cha, Kento-sum?”