Lord Shonto was known to be a very convincing man and Sotura feared the lord’s influence on his former student. Shuyun was too important to Botahist interests to go the way of Shonto’s former Spiritual Advisor. The Brotherhood could not afford another renegade. He smiled at the term he’d chosen. Perhaps “renegade” was too strong, but Brother Satake had certainly pursued a course of independence. And independence was not something the Brotherhood either encouraged or admired.
Private discussion with Brother Shuyun was what the chi quan master required, and he was not convinced that it would be possible inside the Governor’s Palace. Sotura turned his gaze to the paper-thin walls. Lord Shonto was certainly not above having the conversations of his Spiritual Advisor listened to; of that he was certain. Of course Sotura did not plan to make a request of Shuyun that the young monk could not fulfill in good conscience, so that was not the reason he was concerned with being overheard. It was what Shonto might learn of the Botahist Order that concerned Sotura. Knowledge of the schisms within the Brotherhood could prove most useful to some parties in the Empire.
So the conversation with Shuyun must be private, that was certain. The young monk had seen the evidence of armies in the desert with his own eyes, and that was a crucial factor. Sotura had to have Shuyun’s support in what he was about to do, although Shuyun could be spared the details and reasons. The Initiate would undoubtedly be distressed to know that his information would be used to destroy the credibility of a senior member of their faith.
Brother Sotura turned his gaze back to the statue of Botahara in its shrine with its arrangement of leaves and branches. He felt a second of confusion as though the statue gazed back at him and the look was not entirely benign. Sotura shook himself out of this state immediately.
Footsteps could be heard approaching down one of the labyrinth of halls that wove through the fabric of the palace. Shuyun. The chi quan master recognized the sound of the footsteps as easily as he would the boy’s signature or his style of chi quan. The older man smiled until the shoji was pushed aside and then the smile was replaced by the unreadable countenance of a Botahist Master.
* * *
Shuyun bowed low to the Senior Brother as he entered the room. There were few people he respected more, and though the Botahist Brothers neither showed nor felt much emotion, Shuyun felt something close to affection for his former instructor.
“My lord’s House is honored by your presence, Brother Sotura.”
“As I am honored by Lord Shonto’s consideration.”
The two monks knelt a few feet apart on thin cushions set on the straw-matted floor. There was a short silence while Shuyun, as the junior monk, waited for Brother Sotura to speak. His patience seemed every bit as developed as his former teacher’s.
“I have many things to discuss with you, Brother Shuyun, but I have spent so much time indoors of late that I wonder—is it possible for us to speak outside without inconveniencing your lord should he have need of your counsel?”
Shuyun thought for a second. “I will send a message to Kamu-sum saying that we are to be found on the Sunrise Viewing Terrace. The terrace will be most pleasant at this time of day. Will that suit your needs, Brother?”
“Perfectly, Shuyun-sum. I thank you for your consideration.”
A servant was sent running with the message and the two Botahist monks set out for the terrace. As they walked, the conversation stayed within the strict bounds of polite discourse between teacher and student. Sotura asked questions and Shuyun responded with short answers; they even laughed at a joke. To anyone listening, there would have been no hint of tension in their discourse.
The Sunrise Viewing Terrace was an excellent choice, for it was well situated to make the most of the sun while still offering some protection from the wind. The cold north wind typical of the season had relented that morning to be replaced by a sea wind that suggested spring more than the true season. The conversation, however, had a certain chill in it.
* * *
Lady Kitsura was followed by a maid and by the daughter of one of Seh’s more senior military men— Kitsura could not remember the man’s name or rank. His daughter was playing at the role of lady-in-waiting and though Lady Kitsura had been annoyed by this farce to begin with she admitted to herself now that the young girl had charmed her. There was something about the girl’s naïveté that the woman from the Imperial Capital found very attractive, perhaps especially so during this time when everything seemed so complex, when there were so many suspected lies. The fact that the young woman admired Kitsura almost to the point of worship might have had some effect as well.
Now it seemed that the young woman was beside herself with excitement at the prospect of meeting Lady Nishima Fanisan Shonto. Much to her surprise, Kitsura found herself telling her companions that Lady Nishima was only human, after all. The tone of mild annoyance that accompanied these words was a bit of a surprise to the sophisticated lady from the capital.
Lady Kitsura walked as quickly as decorum would allow. She did not want to seem to be rushing, after all, but in her mind she ran. Her cousin, Lady Nishima, must be told the most recent news immediately.
The three women came to a doorway leading outside. Kitsura had insisted they venture out to appreciate this fine day and though this suggestion had met with some small resistance her companions had not wanted to disagree. The truth was that the route outside would save them several minutes. Stepping out into the bright sunlight Kitsura’s two companions broke into smiles. Not only did the sun shine, but the day was almost warm. A gentle sea wind tugged at their elaborate robes and attempted to improve upon the studied arrangement of their hair.
Kitsura had to shepherd her companions along or they would have stopped to play the Cloud Game, looking for forms in the sky, perhaps hoping that the famous lady from the capital would compose a poem—excited, though somewhat apprehensive, that she might expect them to do the same.
For her part, the great lady from the capital felt a slight tugging of regret that she could not stop and play the Cloud Game or just walk in the sun and discuss nothing of importance. It was more than that though; it was a regret that, in some inexplicable way, these pleasures were no longer accessible to her. And this made her sad.
Bearing news to Nishima-sum was far too important to delay with such selfish concerns, so, to the disappointment of the two young women of Seh, Kitsura marshaled them along the covered portico.
All three of the women showed great surprise at finding two men deep in conversation on a terrace. If they had not been Brothers of the True Faith, the women would have been deeply embarrassed. How would such a situation be looked upon? Three young women meeting men alone outside on a winter day? Most unseemly!
It was rumored that the ladies of the capital did such things, but the women from Seh had certainly seen no evidence that either the Lady Nishima or the Lady Kitsura acted in such a manner. They hadn’t actually believed the rumors anyway, they told each other, trying to cover their disappointment.
The monks gave their short double bow and the ladies bowed in return, except Lady Kitsura who favored the Brothers with an elegant, though modest, nod of her beautiful head.
The young lady of Seh found herself committing this gesture to memory and stopped herself as she began to imitate it.
A few polite inquiries were made before Lady Kitsura suggested that they continue on their errand, assuring the Brothers that their destination had not been the Sunrise Viewing Terrace and though they were very kind to offer, there was no need for the honored Brothers to leave. The ladies must be on their way.
And so they left, though the officer’s daughter could not help but notice that Lady Kitsura looked back over her shoulder as she left and caught the young monk’s eye in a manner that could only be described as flirtatious. The young woman looked away, trying not to notice. But she had noticed and she was more than a little disconcerted. She found it a bit difficult to catch her breath for a few seconds. Wa
lking more quickly now, she hoped the blush on her cheeks would be attributed to the wind.
The apartments of Lady Nishima were not as elegant as those she was used to, but she laughingly told Kitsura that they were a great improvement over their cabins on the river barge. In truth, they were quite pleasant surroundings, though both Kitsura and Lady Nishima found all the rooms in the Governor’s Palace somewhat colder than they were accustomed to. When her visitors arrived, Lady Nishima was practicing her harp so Kitsura and her two followers were treated to an ancient melody which wafted through the thin screens as though it echoed out of the past. The officer’s daughter seemed close to tears, though whether this was due to the effect of the music or to finding herself in a social situation she had long dreamed of, Kitsura could not tell.
Informed that she had guests, Nishima put aside her instrument and rearranged her robe so that the pattern was arrayed to its best effect. The young women from Seh seemed almost to glow, for here they were in the company of two of the most celebrated women of their generation. Their friends would be envious beyond anyone’s power to describe!
It was with some disappointment that they found themselves drinking cha, alone, while the ladies from the Imperial Capital retired to the balcony. They could just make out the two peers sitting on the wide railing engaged in a conversation that seemed much too serious for women who, it was said, were courted by every young man of worthy family in the entire Capital—including the sons of the Emperor! How could one be anything but constantly gay when one’s life was perfection itself?
“We can hardly barge into an audience with the Imperial Governor, Kitsu-sum, we must think of something else,” Lady Nishima was saying. She let her gaze wander out over the tiled roofs of the city.
“Considering what is at risk, cousin, I fear you may be paying too much heed to propriety. We will barge in on the Imperial Governor by accident,” Kitsura explained.
“I’m not utterly confident that this type of intrigue is your greatest area of skill, cousin. We must have some reason. I do not want my father to believe I am trying to see the Imperial Guardsmen. That would be unacceptable.”
Kitsura turned away so her frustration would not be seen. Not to seem rude, she leaned over and made a show of checking her companions. The two women were trying not to appear too disappointed as they drank their cha and carried on a stilted conversation.
“I fear my lady-in-waiting is quite disappointed not to have been invited into our company.”
Nishima shrugged. “It is the life of those who wait. Did she think it was otherwise?”
“Perhaps. You know all those terrible romances young girls read, the ones where the Princess’ true friend is her youngest, least well-born, lady-in-waiting.”
“Ah, like my Lady Kento,” Nishima offered.
“Exactly!” Kitsura laughed. “Of course you would conform to the conventions of the romance, cousin, it is why you are so adored.” Kitsura laughed again and squeezed her cousin’s hand.
Nishima, however, did not catch her cousin’s mood. She remained pensive, withdrawn. Her gaze kept straying over Kitsura’s shoulder, and finally the young woman turned to see what it was that had caught the artist’s eye. The view was lovely, there was no doubt—tile roofs of celestial blue, plumes of smoke lofting up from among the buildings, and beyond this, all of Seh stretching her green-blue hills off to the west. Beautiful, indeed, but Kitsura was looking for some unusual composition or play of light that stood out among all of the day-to-day beauty, something unique enough to keep demanding Nishima’s attention. Kitsura was about to ask when she caught sight of the two monks still engaged in their conversation on the Sunrise Viewing Terrace. She turned back to Nishima who looked away, a faint blush blossoming on her neck and cheek.
“We should not disappoint them, Kitsu-sum, your young ladies-in-waiting. After all, when winter has worn on they may indeed become our truest friends.” Lady Nishima tried to force a smile. “I will play my harp for them and you will charm them over plum wine with a scandalous tale from the capital.”
“Which scandalous tale do you suggest?” Kitsura clapped her hands suddenly with joy. “How foolish I am! It is all too obvious! Tonight, over dinner, when Lord Shonto makes his customary offer to take me as a concubine, or maid, I shall tell him that I will prove I am worthy of consideration as a wife if for no other reason than my musical skills. You, of course, will have to accompany me. We will claim a need to rehearse, which will give our Governor several opportunities to comment on the questionable skills of musicians who, of all things, need to practice.
“Tomorrow we will arrive at the audience hall with our instruments. What gentleman could refuse two young ladies in such circumstances? Of course they will be honored that we have come to play. And Jaku Katta, I guarantee, will swoon.” Kitsura broke into a smile, enormously pleased with herself. “Well?” she said when she received no response.
“It is not entirely impossible, though it will put you and me, not to mention my uncle, in a somewhat embarrassing situation.”
“Embarrassment may have to be suffered to defeat the barbarian hordes, cousin.”
Nishima laughed this time. “For the Empire of Wa I will dare to suffer it, then,” Nishima said and then she thought for a second. “Perhaps there is a less obvious method of accomplishing the same end.”
“Nonsense. My plan will work perfectly well. Come, cousin, if you play your harp for my young companions, I will overlook your suggestion that intrigue is not one of my many skills. No, no, come along.”
* * *
One’s ear for the truth, Shuyun knew, was not infallible, and after all, he was only a senior Initiate. The monk rubbed his head as though it had been mysteriously bruised.
It had been an innocent question, almost polite conversation, really. There was a widespread rumor in Seh that the Udumbara had blossomed, fulfilling a prophecy of the Perfect Master—the flowering trees of Monarta would not blossom again until a Teacher walked among men. Sotura had shrugged, saying it was a rumor that surfaced every decade. And though the senior Brother had been careful in his choice of words, Shuyun’s sense for truth had wakened immediately—he lies, it whispered.
But even a senior Brother did not have an infallible ear for truth, so Shuyun tried to push this incident aside though it resisted this treatment strongly.
Then there had been Brother Sotura’s request for a written account of Shuyun’s journey into the desert—and this, too, had seemed strange. Not the request, which was hardly out of the ordinary, but the senior monk’s tone—he felt some guilt over this. Shuyun found the meeting with Sotura-sum most disconcerting.
A certain sadness had come over him as he walked. Sotura-sum had always been the man Shuyun admired most, the Brother he sought to emulate—Sotura of the butterfly-punch. And now he found himself doubting his former mentor—was, in fact, considering speaking to Lord Shonto about this meeting. This was also disturbing, Shuyun realized, as though a subtle shifting of his loyalties had taken place without him realizing. Had Brother Satake undergone this same change? It made Shuyun feel a pang of apprehension. Would he find himself following the path of his predecessor? Satake, it was said, had gone so far as to request his final ceremonies be carried out by the family he served—not by the Botahist Brothers! Such a thing was unheard of. I must keep my awareness of what transpires in my soul, Shuyun told himself.
He lies. The words came back to him like a whisper. Perhaps he should speak with Lord Shonto? The monk pushed this idea from his mind. But what was it about Shonto that made Shuyun consider going to him rather than to a senior of his own Order? He realized he did not know—not yet anyway.
The young monk mounted a set of wide stone stairs that led up from the gates. Slowing his pace only slightly, he admired the flying horse sculptures that flanked the first landing and then he was at the enormous main doors to the palace. The Palace guard bowed as he passed— solid men of Seh who would never think to question the Imper
ial Governor’s Spiritual Advisor.
Shuyun’s destination was his own apartment and his writing desk. The account Brother Sotura had requested was required almost immediately as the older monk planned to include it in documents he was sending to Brother Hutto in Yankura. But having written of his journey into the wastelands in detail for Lord Shonto, Shuyun felt this would take little time.
Several turns into the maze that was the Imperial Governor’s Palace, Shuyun entered a narrow hallway that substantially shortened the route to his rooms. At a door that led into another corridor he stopped abruptly. Voices from the other side confirmed what his chi sense had already told him—Lady Kitsura and two others had just arrived at the same door. He opened it for them, stepping aside to allow the women clear passage through the narrow opening.
“Ah, Brother,” Kitsura said, “our karma keeps bringing us into your delightful company. Obviously this must be good karma.” She smiled at her maid and lady-in-waiting who nodded agreement.
“My teachers told me always to turn a deaf ear to flattery, Lady Kitsura, but they did not warn me of its true power. I am, therefore, flattered.” He bowed.
Kitsura motioned to her companions, who passed through the door ahead of her, and then she followed, tripping as she did so and falling lightly against Shuyun who reached out to steady her. She recovered almost immediately and before Shuyun could apologize she had passed on, her hand lingering on his own until the last second.
The monk stood holding the door open for no one and then realized how foolish he must look and moved on, missing the corridor to his rooms and stopping, for a second, lost. Shuyun had never had a woman so close to him, had never touched a woman who was not being treated for illness, and part of his shock was caused by his own reaction.
The Initiate Brother Duology Page 53
