“Is there some way that I may serve you, Shimeko-sum?”
Shimeko shook her head slowly and Shuyun nodded, waiting for her to speak.
“Brother Shuyun…” she began. “Brother, I was approached today by Sister Morima, the nun I served on my journey to Seh. She came dressed not as a Sister but in lay clothing. Sister Morima freely admitted that she had been sent by the Sisterhood.” Shimeko paused, overcome by a sudden need to swallow. “She had been sent to ask me for information or to persuade me to become an informant—it was not clear which. All of this she admitted. Her Order wanted to know anything I could tell about the barbarian invasion, the intrigues of the Empire, and you, Brother.” She hesitated. “I thought you should be told of this.”
Shuyun nodded. If he found this news disturbing in any way, he did not show it. “Do you know what specific information she was looking for, Shimeko-sum?”
The woman gestured with opened hands. “I did not inquire further, Brother, nor did Morima-sum pursue the matter. It almost seemed that she was performing a duty so that it could be reported done. I do not think it was a true attempt to enlist my assistance.”
“Huh. This interest in me I find most strange, and the interest in the Shonto House…What did you say to her?”
“She did not try to impose on me, Brother, so I did not need to argue or even refuse. We spoke briefly. When Morima-sum thought, erroneously, that I was about to speak of the matters she mentioned, she cautioned me that my words might be repeated to her Sisters.”
“Might be repeated?”
“That is what she said, Brother.”
“Most strange.” He gazed down into the waters of the canal. “Is there more I should hear?”
She shook her head.
“I thank you for speaking of this, Shimeko-sum. I am not sure what I shall do, but it is possible Steward Kamu may wish to speak with you also.”
She gave a tight nod.
“Most strange,” Shuyun said again.
Twenty-seven
The Plum Blossom Winds
Spread leaves and flowers among the hills
Laughter and song echo from
The Hill of the North Wind,
Harp and flute from
West Wind Hill.
THE VALLEY BETWEEN the Hills of the North and West Winds became the center of focus for a disturbing meditation by the men of Seh. Barbarian patrols had appeared there the evening before and again that morning. Now everyone watched, waiting without talk for the barbarian army to show itself.
General Toshaki Shinga stood at a narrow opening in the north tower and looked toward the point in the landscape that had become the morbid fascination of everyone in the city. The rhythmic sounds of sword polishers working drifted up to him.
It is too fine a day, the general thought. He leaned out and looked down the wall to the water lapping at its base. It is a strong city, Toshaki told himself, but it was not built to be defended by so few.
Silence had invaded the city more completely than any army could. Toshaki could almost feel men waiting. The gap between the hills drew his attention again.
A small barbarian patrol could be seen among the budding trees at the base of the Hill of the North Wind. They had not moved from that place since first light.
Two boats swung to anchors off the lake’s northern shore, waiting for the last scouts returning to Rhojo-ma. Toshaki wondered what choice he would make if he were out on patrol. Would he return to the doomed city or would he strike out, hoping to catch Lord Shonto’s fleet? He pushed on the edges of the opening, rocking back and forth on his heels. It was the waiting that was the worst.
The men remaining in Rhojo-ma had received a detailed description of the barbarian army from a Shonto captain. Toshaki shook his head. That had been the strangest intelligence he had ever received for, rather than assist them with their strategy, the report had destroyed all hope. The sheer numbers in the barbarian army reduced their defense of Rhojo-ma to absurdity. The sole purpose of the men in Seh’s capital now was to convince the Khan that the army remaining in Rhojo-ma was too large to leave at his back. If the barbarians spent several days mounting an attack across water, Shonto would have a few more days to raise his army. A few days, Toshaki thought, we sell our lives for so little! At least it would be an honorable death.
Watches were changed on the city’s walls as the men of Seh began to create the appearance of a large force. The Scarecrow Army, someone had named it, winning a forced laugh.
* * *
Toshaki was making an inspection of defenses when the vanguard of the barbarian army appeared between the hills. Banners as numerous as the blades of grass came down the valley, fluttering in the spring breeze. Slowly but inexorably the riders spread across the plain north of the lake. Only when they had established a perimeter of two rih did the leading edge of the army stop but, behind this, the barbarians continued to spill out onto the plain. Tents began to appear almost immediately and horses were staked out to graze. There was little to indicate that this army feared attack. With the colored banners waving and the tents beginning to appear, the scene almost looked festive.
Barbarians on foot and on horseback came out to the edge of their camp and stood staring at Rhojo-ma, then they would return to their camp to be replaced by others who would then be replaced by others again.
When the sun set, the barbarian army was still arriving. Just as the dusk descended, the first tree was felled and dragged to the shore of the lake.
Twenty-eight
THE DINNER CONVERSATION had faltered badly and each attempt to fan it back to life had ended in silence and embarrassed smiles. The news that the Golden Khan’s army was poised to strike Rhojo-ma destroyed everyone’s tranquillity and purpose.
Attempting to collect their wandering thoughts in music, Ladies Nishima and Kitsura played the harp and flute for Lady Okara. Though famed for her gracious manners, Lady Okara found it difficult to concentrate on the music of her young companions and it showed in her face. In truth, the players kept losing their focus, resulting in a less than inspired performance. Lady Nishima, especially, seemed to be elsewhere.
A clatter from the deck of the river barge was enough to destroy their focus altogether and the music lost its rhythm and failed. A dull thudding of footsteps passed over their cabin and then back again. Traveling in the dark often led to emergency maneuvers and even these did not always prevent groundings.
“It is nothing, I’m sure,” Lady Okara said, and gave them an encouraging smile.
Neither Nishima nor Kitsura showed any indication of continuing and, after a moment’s hesitation, set their instruments aside with apologies.
“Even though we have known what was occurring for many months, I still find it difficult to believe that war has begun,” Kitsura said.
“Yes,” Nishima said quietly. “So many men in Rhojo-ma. It is a foolish waste for the few days we will gain.” She rubbed her hand down the frame of her harp. “I’m glad that our Lord Komawara is not among them.”
Kitsura nodded and then she smiled. “I’ve grown quite fond of him. It seems a very long time since we met at the Emperor’s celebration.”
Lady Okara shifted her pillows and reached for her wine. “He seemed so young then.” She shook her head sadly. “It is difficult to believe this Lord Komawara is the same young man. He has become very grim.”
The conversation faltered again and finally Kitsura and Nishima bade their good nights and left Lady Okara in her cabin. The barge they traveled on now was markedly different from the one that had carried them north. This one was larger and far more elegant—not a cargo-carrier with a few cabins aft but a boat designed for passengers from Wa’s wealthier class.
At the door to Nishima’s cabin they hesitated to say goodnight and when neither of them seemed ready to sleep, Kitsura was invited in. Nishima’s cabin was lit by a single hanging lamp which cast a warm glow on the rich woods of the walls and beams. Being in the stern the cabi
n had actual windows rather than ports, though these were all shuttered but one. Spread over the straw mats were two thick wool carpets made by the tribes. Nishima always tried to bear in mind something the Kalam had said about the tribal people—they did not all support the Khan. In her mind her rugs were made by those tribes that hid themselves from this new chieftain.
“Oh, Nishi-sum,” Kitsura said to an offer of wine. “I have had enough for one evening.”
They sank onto cushions and back into silence. The coolness of the night was just starting to find its way into the cabin, so Nishima called a maid and asked for a charcoal burner.
Kitsura held her hands close to the heat when it came. “It is a sign of spring, Nishi-sum. The heat from this burner is not immediately stolen by the darkness. It may even warm the cabin.” She flashed her incomparable smile.
Nishima nodded. Kitsura was not one to remain sad, no matter what the circumstances, and she could never bear to see her cousin anything but cheerful. But Nishima could not pretend happiness; any smile she summoned would be entirely artificial. Kitsura fell silent for a few seconds before she spoke again.
“Do you wonder what part Jaku played in the sudden decision to raise an Imperial Army? He claims it was the influence of his friends at court, but…”
Nishima opened her fan and looked at the pattern of plum trees in blossom. “I think our test told the truth, Kitsu-sum: he is no longer in favor at court. I do not think Jaku would align himself so closely with my father if he were at all concerned with the Emperor and what he might think. No, he is ever the opportunist—when the Emperor decided to raise an army to protect himself from any designs the Shonto might have, General Jaku stepped to the fore and claimed credit. I do not trust him, Kitsu-sum. I do not trust him at all.”
Kitsura shrugged. “Still, he is a handsome man….”
“You are impossible,” Nishima said, and though her tone was meant to be mock dismay she did not quite carry it off. “Jaku Katta is so embroiled in plots that it is a wonder he knows who to tell what lies to.”
Kitsura smiled tightly. “We all plot, cousin. For some reason those of us from older families think we have a right to plot, while those who have only recently risen step beyond social conventions when they do the same.” She shrugged.
Nishima did not know what to answer. “I made the mistake of allowing myself to be drawn by his appearance, Kitsu-sum, but I was acting in a very foolish manner.”
Kitsura regarded her cousin, who stared at the pattern on the charcoal burner. “You have not developed another interest, have you, cousin?”
Nishima glanced up, then went back to her examination of the burner. “No, of course not. I simply feel that I was foolish in my regard for Jaku Katta.”
“Huh.” Kitsura produced a brush and began to comb out her long hair. “We will pass the fane of the Lovers again—in a few days if we do not pause. A fascinating thing, don’t you think? It would be interesting to know more. I regret that I did not look into the archives while we were in Seh.”
Nishima carefully smoothed a crease in her robe. “Yes, it would have been intriguing, I’m sure.”
The silence returned. The sounds of water lapping and bubbling past the hull. A tap sounded on the door, making them both start.
“Please, enter,” Nishima said.
Shimeko’s face appeared as the door opened. She bowed quickly. “Brother Shuyun calls, Lady Nishima.”
Nishima was not quite able to hide her pleasure at this news. “Ahh. Please, ask him to join us.”
Kitsura nodded to her companion and started to rise. “I must be going, cousin.”
“Kitsu-sum, I’m sure Brother Shuyun would welcome your presence.”
As she said this, the door swung open and Shuyun stepped past a bowing Shimeko. Kneeling, Shuyun bowed and as he did so Nishima noticed Shimeko perform a sign to Botahara as she pulled the door closed.
Kitsura and Nishima nodded to the monk.
“It is kind of you to visit, Brother. I am having difficulty convincing Kitsura-sum to stay….”
Kitsura favored them both with her most disarming smile. “Please, cousin, Brother Shuyun, I have other matters calling me. I regret missing your company,” she said to Shuyun, then nodded again. “If your duties allow you time for gii, Brother, I would be delighted to have your company.” She nodded to Nishima. “Cousin.” Kitsura slipped out, opening the door herself and giving a final smile as she left.
The sounds of the river craft’s progress seemed to fill the cabin.
“I received a message from Lady Okara,” Shuyun said quietly. “She was concerned that the news from Seh had affected both you and Lady Kitsura most adversely. I came to inquire of your well-being.”
“You are kind, Shuyun-sum, and Lady Okara is most considerate.” She gestured to the windows. “It is difficult to remain tranquil when war has returned to Wa. So many men remained in Rhojo-ma. It is a tragedy, certainly. To provide us with a handful of days…” She shook her head. “It is like the coming of the plague. You look around you and ask ‘who will live and who will die?’ I’m certain it haunts everyone equally.” She looked up and tried to smile. “Do not be overly concerned, Brother, the shock of it beginning—becoming real, will soon wear off.”
Shuyun nodded. “It is a sad truth, Lady Nishima. The shock of war wears off. Perhaps if it did not, fewer wars would be undertaken.”
A look of pain flickered across Nishima’s face, but she recovered her poise immediately.
“And you Shuyun-sum, how do you fare, now that war is with us?”
Shuyun thought for a moment. “When I traveled in the desert, the monk I met there…he said that war brings no soul to perfection. The suffering to come—it is difficult to imagine that it is the karma of so many to suffer this way.” He fell silent, looking toward the stern windows.
“I am a follower of Botahara, yet my Order has instructed me to support Lord Shonto in all of his endeavors—for the good of the Brotherhood which preserves the teaching of Botahara. So I go to war also.” He looked up and met Nishima’s eyes. “It is not the place of a Spiritual Advisor to burden his charges with his own conflicts. I apologize.” He bowed low.
Nishima reached out and caught his sleeve as he bowed. “Shuyun-sum, please, do not apologize. Outside of this room I must be Lady Nishima Fanisan Shonto—I have great obligations to my uncle and our House. I confess that I find this role taxes me to my limit at times. If I did not have some place and someone with whom I could speak openly….” She shrugged. “Your role is as difficult, I’m sure. It seems to be true that our lives are fraught with contradictions and I am honored that you would speak of these to me.” She gestured with a sweep of her sleeve. “This room feels like a haven in which I do not have to play out my role of Lady of a Great House. In truth, Shuyun-sum, I feel less need for a Spiritual Advisor and more need for a friend.”
She took his hand. “What happens in this room is between us and no one else. I would not speak of it even to my liege-lord. Be at your ease, Shuyun-sum. It is my hope that here the Lady and the Advisor may be only Nishi-sum and Shuyun-sum. Nothing else.” She tugged at his hand as if she would draw him closer and he seemed to become stiff and awkward.
“It is difficult, Lady Nishima,” he said formally, “to forget that I am a Brother.”
Nishima stared into his eyes until he looked away. “It is not easy to forget that I am the daughter of two Great Houses. I have been trained to always be thus.” She bowed formally, returning to a kneeling position, her posture relaxed but erect. The look on her face spoke of lack of involvement with the world around her—the pose of the sophisticated aristocrat. Then she broke into a smile.
“And you, my friend, are always so.” She performed a perfect imitation of a Botahist double bow and then returned to the kneeling position, hands on her thighs, her face an impenetrable mask of serenity. She let out a long controlled breath as though she would enter a meditative state.
So per
fect was her imitation that Shuyun was at first shocked and then he broke into a grin.
“There!” Nishima said in triumph. She moved quickly to his side, still facing him. “I have just seen the true Shuyun-sum.” She took his hands and his smile was gone as quickly as it had come. “Please, do not disappear again,” she said in a small voice.
Shuyun’s face almost seemed to flicker like a candle, wavering between the mask of a Botahist Brother and the expressive face of the young man that Nishima had just caught a glimpse of.
“This discomfort you feel in the presence of women, Shuyun-sum, it simply has to be overcome.”
He started to protest, but before words formed she reached out and pushed him, almost toppling him over.
“Ahh, a point of resistance! Your teachers would be most disappointed.” She slipped into his arms and buried her face in his neck. “This is the comfort I need. The comfort of a friend,” she whispered. “And you, Shuyun-sum, must learn comfort in the company of women. I will be your teacher in this.”
They stayed thus for a moment and then Nishima spoke again. “Breathe as I do,” and they went through a breathing exercise designed to relax the muscles.
“The night we spent together—I could feel your resistance, as I can feel it now.” She pushed against him with her body and again there was a second of resistance. Pulling away, she stood quickly and blew out the hanging lamp. She took his hands then in the dark, a hint of light coming in the stern windows. “Promise me you will not leave?”
Shuyun hesitated and she squeezed his hands until he nodded. She disappeared into another part of the cabin and returned almost immediately. In the dim light she rearranged the cushions and spread a thick quilt over them. She turned to Shuyun who sat like a stone.
“Lady Nishima, I…”
The Initiate Brother Duology Page 71
