Tadamoto obeyed, walking slowly and fighting the urge to look back at the Emperor.
“From whom did you receive this information about the barbarian army, Colonel?”
“Spies working in the north, Sire.”
“Ah. Stop where you are and look carefully around you.”
Tadamoto did as he was told. The stone pathway was somewhat wider than a man was tall, bounded on both sides by high, dense foliage. There was a blind-end visible ahead and a branch-left perhaps six paces away. Turning further, Tadamoto found the Emperor watching him, all traces of his earlier lightness of spirit gone. Reaching right with his sword the Emperor thrust the tip of the scabbard into the hedge.
Looking at the spot the Emperor indicated, the guard realized that there was something out of place there and a more careful inspection revealed a low, impossibly narrow passage, well camouflaged.
“A gardener’s secret,” the Emperor said quietly. “You will have to push your way in.”
Tadamoto parted the branches with care and bent low to enter. It was surprisingly dark in the passageway, the density of the growth admitting little light. Sounds of the Emperor parting the branches behind kept Tadamoto moving despite the tightness of the tunnel. Sunlight appeared ahead and the officer pushed through into another stone pathway running between the hedges.
“Turn left,” the Emperor said before he had emerged from the passage.
Tadamoto set out again at the same pace and again the Emperor’s footsteps followed. Another gardener’s tunnel, and then left, then right and again right. They were at the center of the maze. The hedges formed a circle a dozen paces across and in the center of this lay a round, jade pool, flashes of gold and crimson sunfish like visions of flame in the depths of a mirror.
The Emperor sat on a stone bench carved with Imperial Dragons, his sword across his knees. Tadamoto hastened to kneel, the stones digging into his knees.
The Emperor stared into the green water of the quiet pool. “You see, Colonel Jaku, uncounted people have tried to unravel this puzzle but, in truth, only a few have ever managed to stand where you are now and look into the Jade Mirror. Ministers, princes, court ladies, great lords, famed generals…so many have failed. Yet the humble gardeners of the palace all have been here, often. They know how to go directly to the heart of the puzzle.” The Emperor pointed the tip of his scabbard at the young officer. “It is the secret of all great men, Tadamoto-sum.
“If there is a barbarian army, I believe it is in league with Shonto or is of little consequence and Shonto draws it along behind him as an excuse to invade the inner provinces. This half-breed Khan cannot threaten the Empire of Wa with a ragtag army of hunters and herdboys. You have had your confidence in this matter shaken by your brother. This impairs your effectiveness as a counselor to the Emperor.
“Cut through to the heart of the matter, Colonel, so you can set it aside. We have war in sight—it gathers on the northern horizon like a winter storm. Your entire focus will be called for.” The Emperor stood and walked to the opening in the hedge. “The place where you sit, Colonel is so difficult to reach most believe it impossible. Wander without focus for even a short time and you will find yourself on the outside. May the gods guide you, Colonel Jaku.”
Forty-two
ROHKU TADAMORI WAS growing used to being referred to as captain though he had now twice been confused with his father and that he would never grow used to. There was a vast difference between a mere captain and the Captain of Lord Shonto’s Personal Guard—and only a true provincial would not be aware of the distinction. Still, he was proud of his new rank as he was of his father’s status. His dream of the Rohku family achieving fame for their service to the Shonto did not seem as remote as it once had, especially now with war at hand.
The young officer rode along the canal bank through a grove of flowering plum trees. The spring winds were just now starting to coax the petals of the plum blossoms free, carrying them aloft and scattering them across the green countryside. The wakes of the passing river boats disturbed the petals as they landed on the canal and the Plum Blossom Winds turned them into sails, stranding them on the western bank.
Behind Rohku Tadamori rode a small company and the young captain realized that he had achieved a certain level of recognition since he suddenly warranted a guard. He shook his head. Perhaps now that war was upon them, he would have a chance to prove himself in battle as his father had. A few days earlier Rohku Saicha had led an attack on the barbarians in the hills. Despite his recent recognition Tadamori was not senior enough to know any details of his father’s duty—that would come with time. Worrying was something that Tadamori had been taught not to indulge in, but his father’s company had not returned and those who knew had begun to whisper. He focused his thoughts elsewhere.
Functioning in the capacity that had somehow become his own, Rohku Tadamori had been sent south down the canal as a lookout. The boats had grown so numerous that it was becoming impossible to pass to the front of the fleet by sampan in any reasonable time, so he had chosen to ride. Perhaps the fact that it was a perfect spring day and he preferred horses to boats had entered into the decision also.
Although the Grand Canal ran virtually straight throughout most of its sections, the area it passed through now was strewn with outcroppings of gray stone, making a straight line impossible. So the ancient engineers had routed the waterway among them as though providing travelers with the most aesthetic views had suddenly become their purpose. This allowed Rohku to go across country, cutting off great loops of the canal and saving much time and distance.
Rohku and his guard had not passed half the ships in the great flotilla so far and yet they had been on horseback half a day. A small stream met the canal and Tadamori dismounted to let his horse drink. Others did the same. There was no sense of urgency in this assignment, and though his men did not know what his orders were they had soon realized that he did not rush. Conversation had started among the riders, uncommon among Shonto’s guard, who took their duty very seriously. A beautiful day such as this even lightened the spirits of the warriors.
“There is a mess for you,” one of the guards said, pointing down the canal.
Around one of the giant rock towers came an ornate river boat, fighting not only the current of the canal but also the current of events. Barges from the south-going flotilla pulled up to the bank to let the river boat pass. Rohku could not distinguish the crests on the banners, but the color was impossible to mistake—Imperial Crimson. Prince Wakaro had arrived, not appearing out of the mists as had Jaku Katta, but in the full light of a fine spring day, forcing his way north against a torrent of refugees swept before the coming war.
Even at this distance Rohku could see the people on the bank and on barges bowing as the Prince’s boat passed. Rohku ran up to the top of the bank and watched for a moment, then trotted back down and mounted his horse. There was nothing more he needed to see.
Turning quickly, Rohku spurred up the bank followed by his guard. At the top he paused to get his bearings in the strange countryside and then set off across the country at a canter. Lord Shonto would want to know this immediately.
* * *
Although official greetings had been sent and the Prince had made it known that he wished to have Lord Shonto attend him immediately, still nothing of significance had occurred. The Prince’s flotilla carrying personal staff, his small court, and an honor guard of black uniformed Imperial Guards sat moored to the east bank of the canal while Shonto’s own vast flotilla passed by on its way toward the inner provinces.
On the bank opposite the Prince’s retinue, a silk pavilion had been erected surrounded by a fence of banners laced to bamboo frames. The Emperor’s banner, the five-clawed dragon on crimson, wafted from a staff before the enclosure and beside it Prince Wakaro’s own banner of dragon and crane, also on crimson, though bordered in gold. Shonto’s blue banner waved there, also, as did the Flying Horse of the Province of Seh. Armored men
in Shonto blue stood guard and there was a ring of several hundred yards which only specific Shonto retainers were allowed to enter.
On the bank before the pavilion a dock had been built so that people of rank might disembark from boats with some semblance of dignity. A sampan of the most common variety wobbled down the canal to the stroke of its single oar. Aboard this craft were three guards in armor with blue lacing and an old man, formally dressed, sitting with one hand in his lap while the other sleeve of his robe creased and rippled in the breeze.
The sampan made a careful line to the elaborate barge that bore the Imperial Prince. Steward Kamu was left waiting on the boarding platform for some minutes, but eventually an Imperial Guard officer came to the head of the stairs and bowed.
“The Prince will speak with you now, Steward Kamu,” the officer said.
They still bow, they continue to use my title, they are not as confident as they pretend, Kamu thought. With some care he ascended the stairs to the main deck and then a second stairway to an upper level. There, on the stern, protected by a yellow awning, sat the Imperial Prince, Yamaku Wakaro, listening to a lovely young woman who played the melody of a spring dance on the harp.
Kneeling immediately, Kamu waited, listening. The woman was not the equal of Lady Nishima, in either beauty or in the skill of her playing, but she was certainly more than competent and the composition was well matched to the day.
The Prince did not seem to notice the presence of Lord Shonto’s representative but concentrated his attentions on the young musician. Sitting on cushions around the stern of the boat sat several richly dressed men and women of similar age to the Prince. None were immediately recognizable to Kamu, but he was well informed of who fluttered about the flame of the Imperial Prince and though they were not individuals entirely without virtue, there was not one among them who it could be said was marked for great things. Another Imperial dynasty that had achieved mediocrity in three generations.
A second song was called for and plum wine was served. Kamu knelt unmoving on the hard deck controlling his not insignificant temper. Occasionally he glanced up at the Prince. He decided His Imperial Highness favored his mother in appearance, round of feature, yet fair. Large, wide-set eyes with long lashes drew the attention and would, no doubt, be the talk of the young women at court. The Prince kept teasing the corner of a long, spindly mustache. Like his mother, the Prince had a shock of white hair on his left temple, distorting the symmetry of his face.
Finally, after the second song and some idle conversation and laughter, Kamu was summoned forward. Bored with their charade, the old man thought.
Bowing, the steward waited with every indication of infinite patience.
“Steward Kamu,” Prince Wakaro said, his voice slightly nasal. “I trust you have come to arrange the surrender of Lord Shonto and to pass the control of this upstart army over to my Guard Captain.”
Kamu gave a half bow as though of compliance. “The edicts you bear from the Son of Heaven would certainly not be ignored, Sire. As we are at war, however, Lord Shonto is anxious to give a full report of the military situation before the Prince takes command of the army.” Kamu bowed again.
“Tell your lord that the military situation is no longer his concern. I am more interested in his compliance with direct orders from the Emperor.”
Kamu nodded to the pavilion on the opposite bank. “Lord Shonto is a general of great skill, Sire. Given your experience in these areas, it might be prudent to speak with him, Prince.”
Wakaro raised an eyebrow, a flash of anger was replaced by a smirk. His followers became very quiet. “Your insolence has earned you a particularly small, dark cell for the brief period remaining to you, Steward.”
Kamu’s deferential manner did not change. “Certainly, Sire, this will be as you wish, but this must wait until after your meeting with my lord.”
“There will be no meeting with your lord, you old fool!” the Prince exploded, slamming his armrest.
Kamu nodded. He shares his father’s temper if little else. “Perhaps, Sire, I might suggest that you look behind you,” Kamu said softly.
Wakaro’s eyes widened at this and his flash of temper seemed to burn down to coals. Others of his party glanced aft and Kamu heard them curse under their breath. Hearing this the Prince turned. On the deck of the boat behind, formerly awash in the black-laced armor of Imperial Guards, stood men in armor of blue. As the Imperial Prince turned, they bowed and then returned to position as if they were his own guard.
Wakaro turned and regarded Kamu. Before he could respond to what he had seen, the old steward spoke quietly.
“As we are at war, my lord is concerned with the Prince’s safety. He has provided you with his own personal guard. I trust the hour of the dog will not be an inconvenient time for this meeting?”
“To threaten the son of the Emperor of Wa is a crime that will not be forgiven,” the Prince said, his voice not sure enough to bear the weight of the threat.
Kamu could not help himself. He shrugged. “There is no threat, Sire. Only concern that you are fully aware of the situation you inherit.” Without waiting to be dismissed, Kamu bowed low, rose in the Prince’s presence, and walked with great dignity to the stairs and then down to his waiting boat.
* * *
The sampan carrying Prince Wakaro crossed to the small dock where it was met by Shonto’s steward, who bowed low, greeting the Prince with proper formality. Accompanying the Emperor’s son was the senior officer of his guard and another young man of similar age to his royal highness. They ascended the bank to the enclosure between rows of bowing, blue-armored guards. Under the awning of the pavilion sat Lord Shonto and his senior military advisor, General Hojo Masakado.
All bowed accordingly as the Prince approached. A small dais had been provided for Wakaro and cushions set for his counselors. Taking his place, the son of the Emperor sat and glared at Shonto with undisguised anger.
“Do not wait for me to speak,” the Prince said quickly. “Despite this dais and the formal homage, there is no question of who controls this situation. Enjoy it while you may,” he added, the Yamaku temper flaring briefly.
Shonto favored the Prince with a smile of great warmth. “I apologize most humbly, Sire. If we were not at war, I would never have presumed to use such measures.”
“I am not aware of any declaration of war, and I receive news from the Island Palace daily. Refusal to comply with the Imperial Edicts will be considered an act of treason, Governor.” He spat the word out. “It does not show great wisdom to erode your already tenuous situation.”
Shonto spoke quietly. “Refusal to learn what is known of the enemy you will face when you take control of the army could not be considered great wisdom either, Sire.” Shonto smiled again. “As the Empire is under great threat, I did not feel such a mistake could be allowed.”
The Prince eyed Shonto. “What will you have me do?”
Shonto favored the Prince with the look a tolerant parent gives an unreasonable child—amusement and affection mixed with sadness brought about by the knowledge that children will insist on learning difficult lessons for themselves, though their conclusions will hardly be startling. “The barbarian force is not far behind, not as far as we would like it to be, at least. If you can be ready at sunrise tomorrow, General Hojo will accompany you personally so that you might view this force and make your own assessment and plans.” He nodded to Kamu who reached behind him for a scroll. He laid this within reach of the Prince’s guard.
“This is an accurate assessment of the barbarian force. General Hojo will certainly be able to answer any questions you might have as he is familiar with every aspect of our efforts and has recently engaged the vanguard of the barbarian army in a significant skirmish.”
Silence followed. The Prince finally nodded, moving his head as though he suffered from great exhaustion. “As I have little choice, I will go view this great barbarian army. May I assume my guard captain will be allowe
d to accompany me?”
“Of course, Sire,” Shonto answered. “Take the advisors deemed necessary, by all means. I personally will be interested in the opinions of the Prince and his staff when they return.”
Shonto nodded to Kamu who gave unseen signals and wine appeared. “Excuse me for not asking, Prince,” Shonto said, lifting his cup. “The Emperor is well?”
Forty-three
Upon first awakening, for the briefest of moments, one believes in the dream.
Brother Hutto
Seventieth Primate of Wa
PRINCE WAKARO WORE the black-laced armor of an Imperial Guard officer, though under a surcoat bearing twin silver dragons and a trim of crimson. A dark bay stallion was the Prince’s favored horse, and though it was a powerful animal General Hojo suspected that it had been chosen to complement the Prince’s attire.
And the silver-trimmed black saddle and bridle…! These earned many a glance from the other riders who favored tack that showed signs of use. Such a saddle and bridle would be a prize to attract a barbarian’s attention!
Hojo turned back to the scene that stretched out before them. It had taken some time to find an appropriate place from which to view the passing barbarian army. Lord Shonto had insisted that the Prince should never be at risk—not an easy requirement to fullfil in such times— but this hill was as secure as could be found. Unfortunately, what it gained in security it lost in proximity.
Far off to the west the Grand Canal wound across the landscape, shining like a bronze ribbon in the late afternoon light. Rafts were being pulled along this ribbon of molten metal, their dark shapes distorted by their own shadows. Along either bank moved the army of the desert, like an enormous herd of unknown animals wandering in search of new feeding grounds.
The Initiate Brother Duology Page 81
