Prince Wakaro said nothing though he repeatedly glanced over at the captain of his guard as if he tried to read the officer’s response. It was a small, but telling, gesture.
“It is possible to go some short distance closer, Prince, if this would help in the estimation of the army’s size,” Hojo offered calmly. He was not seeing the barbarian army for the first time. He had fought them, in fact. To the general they were only men, not some ominous, unknown entity. They fought and made mistakes, felt fear, and even bled, just like any other men he had known.
The Prince looked over to his captain who shook his head. “We have seen all we require, General.” He looked over at the western horizon. “It will be dark soon enough. Perhaps we should return.”
General Hojo nodded, signaled his guard, and turned back the way they had come. That will take some of the arrogance out of the whelp, the old fighter thought—and to think this boy’s father began all of this; paid gold to this Khan to help bring down the Shonto House. Has this young Prince wondered why he was sent to Seh? Let him ponder that, Hojo told himself. If nothing else can shake his imperial confidence, that should.-
* * *
It was a curious aspect of the natural world and Lord Shonto had often wondered about it. The willow trees that lined the canal bank had branches that hung down close to the water, like green robes swaying in the breeze. Yet, from even a short distance, it appeared that all of these branches stopped the same distance short of the water, as though a gardener had trimmed them with great care. Surely it is only an illusion, the lord thought, but it appears to be so. Tree after tree all with their long, flowing wands grown to the same length.
The canal bank slipped past, the spring winds still hurrying the river boats south. A haze of petals floated on the waters among the reflections of passing clouds, and other petals took to the wind like a flight of butterflies. Spring in Wa was disappointing no one, at least as far as weather was concerned. Shonto sat on the upper deck of his barge, watching the scene pass.
Unlike his Spiritual Advisor the lord did not wait well, but one did not hurry an Imperial Prince nor demand that they arrive at an appointed hour—by definition, the appointed hour was the precise time the Imperial party made its appearance.
It was surprising enough that Wakaro came to Shonto, for a Prince need never wait upon another. There was little doubt that this act was a message—the sight of the barbarian army was a convincing argument—but what the Prince would be willing to do in the coming war remained a question.
“Sire,” Kamu appeared at the stairway, “the Prince comes.”
Shonto nodded. It had been decided that the lord would meet the Prince as an equal, not kneeling at the stairhead as the Prince came aboard—and this, too, was a message. The Yamaku prepared for war against the Shonto, had tried to do away with the Shonto House altogether; there were certain truths that each House would have to live with now. One was that the Shonto would no longer recognize the Yamaku claim to the Dragon Throne. This did not mean that Shonto would treat the son of his enemy with disrespect, but he would not credit him the full regard reserved for the son of a legitimate sovereign.
An elegant white boat shot past, controlled by skilled oarsmen. It turned easily and brought up beside the platform at the bottom of the boarding stairs. They were not within Shonto’s sight, but he could hear voices and footsteps on the stairs.
Two attendants and two Imperial Guards preceded the Prince onto the upper deck and knelt to either side while their master ascended the stairs. Everyone on the deck, with the exception of Lord Shonto, bowed low.
The Prince wore a robe the color of the summer sky embroidered with a pattern of plum trees in blossom. In his sash he carried a sword in a black leather scabbard adorned with the dragon and crane. Crossing the open deck, Wakaro nodded to Shonto and took the cushion to the lord’s left. Shonto returned the nod and gestured for a cushion to be set for the Prince’s Guard Captain. Kamu and General Hojo approached and took places on their lord’s right.
“Have you traveled the canal before, Prince Wakaro?” Shonto asked, not waiting for the Prince to open the conversation.
“Not so far north, Lord Shonto,” he waved a hand toward the shore. “It passes through some of the most beautiful scenes in the Empire, I am certain.”
Shonto nodded, looking out over the landscape. “I agree. Years ago I traveled south from Seh. It has changed little.” Shonto looked down in slight discomfort. “Though we will not say that after the barbarians have passed.” The lord looked up at the young man before him, his question unspoken: Now that you have seen the truth of the world, young Sire, what have you to say?
Wakaro could not meet the lord’s gaze for more than a second. “I now realize, Lord Shonto, why you so…strongly advised that I increase my understanding of the military situation. Let us say no more about it.” The Prince rubbed his palms together in a slow circular motion. “I have read your report, as has my Guard Captain. Though I have not received thorough training in the arts of war, I realize that this Khan and his followers are a great threat to the Empire and to our Emperor. My Guard Captain concurs with your staff’s estimate of the army’s size. There is no doubt that the resources of the entire Empire must be utilized to combat this threat.” He looked up now, regarding Shonto with the look of one who has resolved to tell another the hard truth.
“I am not certain that the Emperor can be convinced of this threat, Lord Shonto.” He looked out over the canal, brushing back a wisp of white hair. “The Emperor believes that you proceed south with the intention of overthrowing the Yamaku House.” The Prince shrugged. “I cannot say what your intentions are, Lord Shonto, but certainly the choice you have made to retreat south with so small a force and allow the Empire time to raise an army of defense was the wise choice. Though I am certain it was a difficult decision.”
The Prince shifted on his cushion. “It is my shame to admit that my assessment of what happens here will hold little sway over the actions of the Emperor.” He paused for a second and Shonto wondered if this was pain the young man felt, but the Prince’s face showed little sign of emotion. “It is likely,” Wakaro said at last, “that any report I send will be disregarded. Many an Imperial Prince has plotted to overthrow his father. The Emperor will believe that I have joined you, Lord Shonto, unaware that I am loyal to him, despite all.” The Prince paused again, looking down at his hands. “I am unsure how to proceed….”
Shonto nodded. “It is a difficult situation, Prince Wakaro. My own staff have discussed it endlessly. Allow me to say that the Shonto interest is the safety of Wa, nothing more. As you can see I have already sacrificed everything to that end. Rebel General I am named, yet the subject of every Shonto council is: how can the Empire be preserved?
“The Emperor must raise an army. It is the only answer. I have gathered as many men as we will likely see, yet the total of our forces is not a third of the barbarian army. As we speak, an army is being raised in the capital, though it is not an army for the defense of Wa. What will happen when we reach the inner provinces and the scale of the barbarian invasion is seen?” Shonto regarded his young companion. “I fear it will be too late, Prince Wakaro. We must have a plan—now—a plan and an army large enough to meet this threat from the desert.”
The Prince nodded slowly, looking down at the wooden deck. “I can send a message to my father describing what I have seen and urge him to send officers he trusts to assess the situation for themselves. I can also travel south by fast boat and speak to the Emperor, though I may find retirement to a well-guarded estate as my reward. But even so, I would do this. As you have. Lord Shonto, so would I risk all to preserve the Empire.”
“I think a message to the Emperor is appropriate,” Shonto said quietly. “Even if it does not change the Emperor’s mind, it must cast some doubt on the counsel he has received. As you say, it may be unwise to travel to the capital yourself, especially as you have orders to take control of my army and send me
south under guard.” Shonto looked over at General Hojo as though remembering an earlier discussion. “General Hojo’s report could be sent along with your letter though I think it may be wise to say nothing of the size of our own army. Let the Emperor wonder how many men we have gathered—perhaps he will raise a larger army if he is unsure.”
A silence fell for a moment. Along the shore refugees appeared again and after a morning of seeing very few it was a doubly sad sight. The Prince brushed back the strand of white hair again, without thinking. “Then, for now, I will accompany your flotilla and offer what assistance I can. If you will allow it, I will fly my banner beside your own, Lord Shonto. When we reach the inner provinces, perhaps I will be the bridge between the Shonto and the Emperor.”
Shonto bowed to the young Prince who rose suddenly. “Please excuse me, I will write to the Emperor immediately. Will you see that this letter goes to the palace?”
“Certainly, Prince Wakaro. I thank you for your counsel. Perhaps there is hope yet, if the Yamaku and the Shonto can join to defend Wa….”
The Prince gave a half bow and, followed by his retinue, descended the stairs to the lower deck.
As the white boat passed, the Prince nodded toward Shonto and then the oarsmen dug in and sent their craft shooting ahead leaving a whirl of white petals spinning in their wake.
Kamu bowed to his lord, his face drawn and serious. “I have received word from Brother Shuyun, Sire. He has spoken to the Brothers at the nearby monastery and there is no doubt—plague has broken out among the refugees. The numbers are small and it is hoped the Brothers isolated them quickly enough to stop the disease from spreading. I have given permission to use one barge to transport the victims. The Botahist monks will man it and tend the sick.” Kamu made a sign to Botahara—uncharacteristic for him. “May Botahara protect us all. We need do nothing more for now, but if the disease spreads among the population moving south we will have a calamity, for the Brothers may not be able to deal with the thousands who would become ill. Brother Shuyun has suggested that senior Brother Sotura could be asked to oversee this problem.”
Shonto nodded, thinking for a moment. “Brother Shuyun has taken no risk of infection himself?”
“I spoke to Shuyun-sum of your concern in this matter, Sire, and he assured me that he would employ all necessary precautions.”
Shonto sat turning his cup slowly and looking out at the people moving along the canal bank. “We cannot afford to assign many river craft to transporting the sick.” He shook his head. “Have Brother Sotura take charge of this matter. If the plague finds its way out among these people,” he waved a hand at the canal bank, “thousands may die before the Botanist monks are able to control the disease. We would have been better to leave them in their homes, barbarian army or no.”
Shonto turned back to Kamu. “Once this becomes known among the refugees, there will be a panic that will itself cost lives. We have no more men to police the travelers.” He looked down into his cup. “Let us see what happens. If the diseased are isolated, the problem may grow no worse.”
A silence fell over the men on the deck for a moment. Memories of the plague years were still strong among the people of Wa. No family had been untouched by the wave of death that swept through Wa. And then the Imperial family had become ill and the war began. It was all too familiar.
“Excuse me for asking, Lord Shonto,” General Hojo said, interrupting everyone’s thoughts. “I do not understand why my lord did not allow the young Prince to speak directly to the Emperor? The fact that the Prince would take such a risk would light his story with a flame of truth. Men often will take great risks when they believe they are the bearers of an important truth, as though the purity of their knowledge will somehow shield them from the malice and ignorance of others. The Emperor may have been given pause to think.”
Shonto nodded. “It is possible, one can never know what will impress the Son of Heaven. But if the Emperor did not believe his son…?” Shonto signaled a servant for wine. “If the son stays with us, what will Akantsu think? That I have offered the Prince the hand of my daughter and the Throne of Wa—two things of inestimable value, neither of which the Emperor will ever offer. If the Emperor loses a civil war, a Prince who is wed to a daughter of the Shonto, a bearer of the Fanisan blood, would be the most likely to ascend the Dragon Throne. There is more to overthrowing an Emperor than winning a war. One must have a suitable claimant or even the winning side can faction.” Shonto smiled. “The more threatened the Emperor feels, the larger will his army become.”
The lord shrugged. “And who can say, perhaps the Prince’s letter will make the Emperor wonder. If the Son of Heaven sends officers north to assess the barbarian army, they will see what the Prince has seen.”
“The board,” Hojo said, dryly, “has become too complex.”
Lifting the wine cup that was set before him, Shonto raised an eyebrow. “For the time being, General.” He drank, then set the cup on a small table. “The exchange of pieces begins soon.”
* * *
Returning to the flotilla had become more difficult than Komawara had expected. They had met a barbarian patrol as they emerged from the hills and somehow one of the tribesmen had escaped. After that they had been hunted by barbarian companies and forced to fight more than one running battle. Of the eighteen hundred men that had attacked the supply rafts only a thousand remained. There had been no further signs of the company led by Rohku Saicha and Komawara was not sure if this was propitious or cause for sadness.
“Sire,” a guard interrupted Komawara’s train of thought. The lord sat with his back against a tree, looking out over a field surrounded by tree-clad hills. Grazing horses were guarded here, and Komawara thought how lucky the animals were—his company had not eaten since morning the previous day and his stomach occasionally complained loudly.
“Sire, the guides have found the flotilla. We may reach it by late afternoon.”
Komawara nodded, it was all the reaction he felt he had energy for at the moment. “The scouting parties?”
“They report that the barbarian patrols keep their distance from Lord Shonto’s fleet, Sire, we have not seen sign of them all this morning.” The man paused and then said with some pride, “The patrols the men of Seh ride keep the tribesmen wary.”
Komawara nodded. “Tell General Jaku that we must ride again. Has our position been reported to Lord Shonto?”
The guard shook his head.
“Send someone ahead to inform Kamu-sum of our position.” Komawara heaved himself up with some effort.
“The patrols have one other thing to report, Lord Komawara.”
The lord had begun to turn away but stopped.
“It appears that a large party is separating from the main body of the barbarian army.”
“How large?”
“Perhaps twenty-five thousand men.”
Komawara nodded, looking down at the ground for a moment. “Six men will carry this news directly to Lord Shonto. Give them our strongest horses and remounts also. Tell them to ride their horses to death if need be. Lord Shonto must know of this immediately.”
Komawara signaled for his horse. The barbarians cannot let Lord Shonto continue to deprive their army of food—not after what my party has done. This smaller force will set out to catch our own army and engage it or drive us south at such speed that we cannot continue to empty the lands before us. This Khan has finally awakened.
Forty-four
FOURTH MOON FLOATED free of the tree, sloughing off a robe of copper and wrapping itself in pure silver-white. Ladies Nishima, Kitsura, and Okara sat on cushions laid out on a carpet spread over the quarterdeck. So bright was the moonlight that the pink of the cherry blossoms and the white of the plum could be distinguished as the trees slipped past, their blossom laden shapes hanging like clouds over the dark canal bank.
At the request of Lady Okara, Nishima had played her harp, a subtle melody known as “The Lovers’ Parting,” though
in the southern provinces it went by the name “Traveling the Spring River.”
This done they had begun a poem-series, each composing a verse in turn. Nishima had been given the honor of both the first and last verses in recognition of her poetic skills.
“Fourth moon,
Ten thousand broken hearts
Line the banks of the spring canal
Strewn among the plum petals.”
And then Lady Okara had taken the wine cup that went to the composer of the next verse.
“Blossoms as white as lintel vine
Drift south against flowing waters.
How do we return to houses
Their gateways crumbled?”
The cup passed to Kitsura.
“Last autumn’s leaves
And spring flowers
Are whirled up into clouds
On the backs of cool winds
Like the lifting of one’s heart.”
The cup returned to Nishima who took the required sip and then sat holding the cool porcelain in her lap, thinking.
“A flight of cranes
Passes in silence
Along the river among the clouds.
Ten thousand hearts rise up,
Taking flight toward an unseen lake
At the foot of an unnamed mountain.”
When the poem was finished, the three women sat in silence contemplating the moon and the passing scene. After a suitable time had passed, Kitsura raised her flute and played a soft air that spoke to the mood like a well-chosen quotation. When she was finished, a bamboo flute answered from the canal bank, the unseen player offering a melody none had heard before but which matched the music of Kitsura perfectly.
“That was a spirit speaking to us, I am certain,” Lady Okara whispered, and the other women nodded.
Conversation ceased for some time and then Lady Nishima rose, her smile failing even as it formed. “It pains me to leave your delightful company,” she said, “but I must sleep or I will be of no use to my uncle. It has been a perfect evening, Oka-sum, cousin.” A half bow and she retreated toward the companionway.
The Initiate Brother Duology Page 82
