“Shimeko, Brother, Shimeko. The Sisters seem to agree, Brother Shuyun. Some do not believe they were removed by men. They believe it was divine intervention.”
“Shimeko-sum. This can hardly be the belief of the Senior Sisters.”
She shrugged. “It appears to be, Brother, Morima-sum reported this to me as though it were commonplace. And there is more.” She began to worry the loose straw again. “No doubt you have heard the rumor that the Udumbara has blossomed?” The straw broke free of the mat and she began to weave it through her fingers. “It is not a mere rumor, Brother Shuyun. Sisters witnessed the blossoming before your Order closed the grounds of Monarta. It is beyond all doubt, Brother, the Teacher who was spoken of is among us.”
“I have discussed this rumor with a senior member of my own Order,” Shuyun said quietly. “He assures me that this is not the case, Shimeko-sum. Why would he lie to me? Why would my own Order deny the rumor?”
“The Sisters ask this same question, Brother. It is an issue of grave concern to them. It is thought that the Teacher is as yet unknown to the Brotherhood, and they cannot proclaim him. If they admit the Udumbara has blossomed, as the prophecy was written, and they cannot bring forth the Teacher…. As you see, Brother Shuyun, the activities of the Botahist Orders seem to reflect a self-interest that I find repugnant. I apologize for the insult that is implied, but I cannot help but speak the truth, Brother, please excuse me.”
“I value the truth, Shimeko-sum, but it is not always easy to discern or to accept.” Shuyun fell into a long silence and was finally brought back to awareness when Shimeko cleared her throat.
“Please excuse me, your words have given me much to consider.” He tried to smile. “I come back to the question of how I may serve you, Shimeko-sum.”
“But it is I who have come to serve you, Brother Shuyun.” Suddenly she prostrated herself before him. “I ask this most humbly, Brother.”
“Please, Shimeko-sum, sit as you were. Do not do this.” He looked around in acute embarrassment as though afraid someone would come in and see them. “This is most unseemly. Why are you doing this?”
Shimeko spoke from her position, prostrate on the mats. “Brother Shuyun, there are some in the Sisterhood who believe that you may be the Teacher who was spoken of. I wish to serve you.”
Shuyun rocked back on his heels. What could possibly make the Sisters believe such a thing? “Shimeko-sum, I assure you, if I were the Teacher I would not keep such a thing secret.”
“Awareness is often preceded by accomplishment, Brother.”
“In truth, Shimeko-sum, my own faith is not unassailable by questions and doubts. Shimeko-sum, rise up,” he ordered and the young woman complied. She rose to a kneeling position, the texture of the straw mat marking an intricate relief on her forehead.
She obeys her Teacher, Shuyun realized, and this unsettled him more than her words. You stopped a blow without it touching you. It was like a whisper in his mind. Brother Sotura was not even aware that such a thing was possible. Senior Brother Sotura! It cannot be true, he told himself, my faith is so easily shaken, doubts grow in me like weeds. I cannot be the Teacher—I may never be a senior Brother if I continue as I am now.
“Brother,” Shimeko said flatly, bringing him back to the world. “I have nothing, no coins, no roof, no walls, no skills, no family. If you send me away, I shall live in the street, and though I have no compunctions about begging, I have no experience of this life. I will live outside your gates, Brother, until I am given some task or until I am driven away. I do not know what else I can do.”
Shuyun sighed. He believed she would do exactly as she said. Botahara have mercy on her; a lost one. “Your calligraphy is presentable?”
“I am told it is sufficient. Brother. I acted as Morima-sum’s secretary often.”
“Would you object to serving a highborn lady in the same capacity?”
“If she is within your household, Brother, I would accept gratefully.”
“I serve within her household, Shimeko-sum.” He paused, thinking. “I can promise nothing, Shimeko-sum, but I will inquire.” He shook his head. “And please, we can have no more displays of…this kind. I am not the Teacher, I assure you.”
“If that is your wish, Brother Shuyun.”
“Come, I will find a maid who will take you to the kitchens for now. You have not eaten in some time?”
“Three days only, Brother.” She tried to favor him with a smile. “I—I thank you, Brother Shuyun.”
“Yes, but no more of this. You must promise.”
She started to bow but turned it into a nod.
Ten
LORD SHONTO’S STEWARD, Kamu, wove his way unsteadily down the hallway. He held a lantern ahead of him in his only hand and occasionally used his elbow against a post to regain his balance. Guards bowed smartly as the old man passed. Despite his appearance—gray hair in a tangle, robes obviously thrown on and belted in the most haphazard manner—Kamu had once been a famed swordsman and the young men among Shonto’s guard treated him like a legend who had descended from some Great Beyond to walk briefly among them.
The old steward careened down the hallway like a ship with a broken rudder, bow lantern swinging. Four of Shonto’s personal guard watched the doors to their lord’s chambers—solid doors, not screens. The four bowed as Kamu approached and hands went to sword hilts.
After speaking the password, Kamu was forced to set the lantern down to give the accompanying hand signal. The force with which the lantern made contact with the floor indicated the steward’s level of annoyance.
The senior guard tapped on the door and a viewport slid open. Quiet words were exchanged and the night guard, one of the few allowed into the lord’s chamber while he slept, slid the port closed.
Kamu left the lantern on the floor as he waited. The viewport slid aside again and the senior guard nodded, stepping aside as the door opened.
Passing through the small entrance hall that acted as a guard room, Kamu entered an inner chamber. A lamp flickered on a small table, casting a weak light in the almost empty room. Kamu had barely knelt when Shonto entered the room, looking only slightly less disheveled than his steward.
The lord nodded in return to his retainer’s bow but did not take the second cushion. Instead he placed his back against one of the deep lacquered posts and crossed his arms, waiting.
“Excuse this…”
Shonto held up his hand and the steward stopped in mid-sentence. “Despite our apparent youth, Kamu-sum, I believe we are too old for such formalities, under the circumstances. Please, speak directly.”
Without a hint of a smile, Kamu began. “The Kintari, Sire…. They have fled.”
“Huh.” Shonto rubbed his chin.
“I have taken the liberty to awaken and inform your advisors, Sire. I’ve tripled the guard around the palace.”
Shonto started to speak, but the night guard appeared in the doorway.
“General Hojo and Lord Komawara, Sire.”
Shonto gestured to allow them entrance.
The sounds of doors and rustling clothing. By their dress, both Hojo and Komawara had also been caught unaware. They bowed to Kamu and their liege-lord.
Shonto said, “The Kintari have refused our hospitality, General Hojo.”
Hojo nodded.
“Most unfortunate. All of them, I suppose?”
“It appears so, Sire,” Kamu answered. “We will know in a few hours.”
“We should take precautions, but I don’t believe this means the Emperor is about to move against us.” Shonto pulled his robe closer. “His plan is more subtle than that.”
Kamu waved his arm in a sweeping gesture that seemed to take in all of Seh. “I believe, Sire, that the Kintari are less important than what this incident tells us. They were warned, there can be no doubt.”
Shonto paced across to the opposite post, then back again. He looked up at Hojo.
“I agree, Sire. They must have had knowledg
e from within the Governor’s Palace. Unless it was a sudden loss of nerve, and I consider that unlikely. Even the Emperor does not choose the fainthearted to carry out his treachery.”
“I have also had word from those who watch our new ally. A messenger came to Jaku’s barge about the same time as we received word of the Kintari. Apparently this caused quite a stir aboard the Guard Commander’s barge. Jaku is on his way to the palace as we speak.”
Shonto nodded. “Lord Komawara, if you were Lord Kintari, where would you go?”
Komawara pressed the bridge of his long, thin nose. “The quickest escape would be down the river, but once the sea is reached they will find few ships willing to risk the winter storms: it seems unlikely that they would make such a choice unless utterly desperate. The Grand Canal is the most easily searched, despite the numbers of craft that would be involved.” He looked around the room, meeting each set of eyes in a manner he would never have done a few months before. “If everything we believe about Lord Kintari is true, I would seek them in the desert, Sire.”
“Ah.” Shonto gave half a laugh. “How far ahead of us do we think they are?”
Kamu and Hojo exchanged glances. “We are not yet certain, Lord Shonto,” Kamu said. “Their servants may have been keeping up a pretense for several days, though no more than three or, perhaps, four.”
“Excuse me, Sire,” Hojo said quietly, “we should also consider what this may say about our friend in the Imperial Guard. Jaku was well aware of our intentions; he received a message just as we did. Could he be the ear in our midst?”
“Jaku’s loyalty will always be in question. It is only comforting to remind oneself that the Emperor must be haunted by the same question.” Shonto stretched his arms high. “Morning is too near for a return to sleep. Please, join me for my meal.” Shonto clapped and a servant appeared. He gave quick orders and then began to pace again, an activity his retainers had seldom seen him indulge in.
Before servants arrived with the meal, the night guard again interrupted, whispering to Kamu.
“Brother Shuyun and General Jaku have both arrived, Sire.”
“Ah,” Shonto said to those around him. “As in all good tales: mention the spirit by name and he appears.” Shonto crossed to the small dais upon which his sword sat in its stand and took up a place on the cushion, pulling an armrest closer in a familiar gesture.
Shuyun appeared, his tonsured scalp and simple manner of dress allowing him to arrive looking as he always did. Oddly, Jaku, who had the farthest to travel, was impeccable in his black uniform.
The monk and the general bowed as their stations required.
“I set out as soon as the news reached me, Lord Shonto.” Jaku seemed very calm, Shonto thought, despite the fact that he certainly knew he would be under suspicion—someone warned the Kintari.
Shonto looked around the group. “I trust, General Jaku, that you learned of this independently?”
Jaku nodded. “I do not, however, know where the Kintari have fled or when they first disappeared. It would seem, Lord Shonto, that the Kintari must have learned of this from someone within the palace or within my guard. I have very tight security among my own officers, Sire.”
“I do not doubt it, General. More blows through the walls of this ancient maze than winter winds. Such things are inevitable in this situation.”
Servants brought a light meal and tables were arranged for Shonto and his guests. As though no matters of greater weight had been discussed, polite conversation flowed seamlessly until the servants had left and Shonto gave his guard orders to secure the chamber. The discussion went from the best time of year to hunt various game birds back to the issues at hand without a sentence of transition.
Shonto sipped his cha, then set the cup back on his table, turning it slowly. “It appears that the palace is not about to be stormed by forces loyal to our enemies. The suggestion that the Kintari were warned is no doubt true. Perhaps our hopes that the Kintari would become allies in our attempt to gain the Emperor’s support were vain.”
Shuyun gave a half bow before speaking. “If the Kintari could have been convinced of our intentions, they may well have become the support we hoped. We will not likely know this now. We must find support without them. The men of Seh and the Emperor both need to be convinced of the truth of our discoveries in the desert. It is a pity that we did not return with evidence other than words.”
“As Brother Shuyun says,” Jaku added, “I have been convinced by words and the belief of the witnesses. Not everyone will think as I do. I have composed my letters to the Emperor and certain of his counselors. As you are aware, the court functions according to an elaborate, unwritten system of debt and payment—the coinage is favor. If one understands the workings of the court and has given credit to many, one can collect accordingly. In the palace they say: it is improper to ask the Great Council of the Empire to add a wing to your home, but it is quite possible to have the Great Council offer to build such a wing.
“I am not a great lord nor do I hold high position, but I will call in what credit I may have given. We shall see.” Jaku tugged at the corner of his mustache. “If there is no support forthcoming from the Emperor or the men of Seh—what will we do?”
Hojo nodded. “It is the very thing we have debated these past months, General Jaku.”
A gong sounded and somewhere in the darkness the guard changed. The night guard appeared in the doorway and signaled Kamu. All was well.
“It has been our hope to convince others of the true threat, General Jaku,” Shonto began, “but as you have said—this may not be possible. When the barbarians cross our border in the spring, the men of Seh will rally to our support…too late, unfortunately.” The lord rearranged several objects on his table as he gathered his thoughts. “We will make these final attempts to gain the support of the men of Seh and the Emperor, but we cannot plan as if these attempts will succeed. It must also be realized that to gain the support of the Emperor but not the men of Seh, or the reverse, will not be adequate. Our needs are great.
“If we have not gained the support we need, our concern will no longer be the defense of Seh but the defense of Wa. We will attempt to raise an army as we move south. It will become a question of how many men of Seh will be willing to follow, for they will form the heart of our army.”
“Sire!” Komawara blurted out, “you will abandon Seh….” Suddenly aware of the naïveté of this statement, Komawara reddened noticeably, adding to his embarrassment.
Shonto’s tone remained calm as he answered. “I do not wish to abandon Seh, Lord Komawara, but to throw a tiny force at a vast barbarian army will accomplish nothing. If our tactics are prudent and our courage does not falter, we may slow the barbarian advance long enough to allow an army to be raised in the south. I am the Governor of Seh, Lord Komawara, and would not consider such a course if it were not for the grave danger to our entire Empire. If the men of Seh and the Emperor will not act to secure the borders or to protect the Empire, then we must act in their place.
“I believe, Lord Komawara, that the people of Seh will be largely safe from the barbarian threat due to our retreat. This Khan cannot have an army large enough to hold Seh and pursue us south to the inner provinces. If Botahara smiles upon us, the barbarian army will pass through Seh like a wind, pulling only a few leaves from their branches.”
In the long silence that followed, no one met the young lord’s eye. “Excuse my outburst,” Komawara said evenly. “I bring shame to the Komawara House. Please excuse me.” He shifted his sword in his sash. “There is one other question that I must ask at risk of again appearing naive. What will happen if the barbarians wish only to conquer the province of Seh, and we allow them to take it without a fight?”
Shonto nodded. “It is as we have often asked, Lord Komawara. This would probably fit the designs of some. Then Shonto and all who support him will be brought down. We still believe that if the barbarians only desired Seh they would have taken it in the
autumn when surprise was assured. We all will gamble our lives on this assumption…be certain you believe it.”
Komawara nodded. “I will risk my life to save Wa, though I would rather it were Seh I hoped to save. Still, for me there can be no choice.”
“Truly, Lord Komawara,” General Hojo offered, “there can be no choice for any of us.”
“Kamu-sum,” Shonto said, “we must begin to gather the craft needed to take us south and make preparations to destroy all others. Leave no boats for the barbarians. Begin an inventory of river boats at once.”
The steward nodded.
“We must consider ways to raise an army as we pass south. Who can be won to our side? Once we cross the border of Seh, the Son of Heaven will try to remove me from command of the army. Who will be sent to do this? General Jaku, perhaps your knowledge and contacts at court could answer this?”
Jaku nodded.
“Much to do. We will make our last attempt to win over the lords of Seh at the Celebration of the First Moon. Lord Komawara, I will have to prevail upon you to describe your journey into the barbarian lands again.”
* * *
The cool, first light of a northern morning glowed through the unshuttered paper screen and cast the shadow of Jaku Katta’s large hand across the paper. The brush hovered in the air, as it had often in the last hours. The soft bristles seemed to contain only ink and no words.
Again he dipped his brush.
My dear brother:
It is with some difficulty that I write to you, not only because of the nature of our parting, which I regret deeply, but I have arrived in Seh to discover things that neither of us had ever expected. I do not know how to convince you that the words I write are true but I must find a way, Tadamoto-sum. On the souls of our father and mother I swear that every word is true. The fate of Wa depends on your ability to recognize the truth—seldom has so much depended on the heart of one man.
Eleven
IT WAS A small entertainment arranged for the high-ranking residents of the Governor’s Palace and for those who frequented Seh’s court—perhaps seventy people in all.
The Initiate Brother Duology Page 57
