Rebels of Gor (18 page)

On the floor a bit before, and to the side of Lord Temmu, was a scattering of bones and shells. I did not know how long they might have lain there. I supposed they had been read by Daichi.

Why, I wondered, were Lords Nishida and Okimoto not present? And why would, say, a contract woman be present.

The two Ashigaru whom I had followed into the castle now stood behind me, one on each side.

I would have preferred that they had retired to the side of the room.

Lord Temmu and I sat facing one another. I was not sure, at first, whether I should speak first, or Lord Temmu. Then I recalled that it would be more appropriate for the shogun to be addressed. Does not he who is less in status bow first? Indeed, does not the lesser officer, by word or gesture, first acknowledge the presence of the senior, or higher, officer?

“Greetings, Lord,” I said. “It is my understanding that you wish to see me.”

“Yes,” he said.

“I am summoned,” I said.

“Invited,” he suggested.

“‘Invited’,” I said.

“There is rice in the pantries of the House of Temmu,” he said. “The gates of the House of Temmu may be opened. The enemy is muchly withdrawn. Men return to the fields.”

“I trust the noble lord is pleased,” I said.

“Muchly so,” he said.

“I then am also pleased,” I said.

“How fares the cavalry?” he said.

“Well, my lord,” I said.

“It is not at the junction of two rivers,” he said.

“No, my lord,” I said.

Obviously this had come somehow to his attention, probably from the reconnaissance of scouts now that the forces of Yamada had been substantially withdrawn from the fields to the north.

“The cavalry has been prematurely deployed,” he said.

“It can no longer act as an instrument of surprise,” I said.

“No longer can it turn a flank in a decisive battle,” he said.

“Not in virtue of surprise,” I said.

“It has been deployed at your discretion,” he said.

“There seemed little choice,” I said.

“It has been used as an instrument of attack, far from the holding,” he said.

“Yes, my lord,” I said.

“This was unauthorized,” he said.

“That is true, my lord,” I said.

“Who is shogun?” he asked.

“Lord Temmu is shogun,” I said.

“Who commands?” he asked.

“Lord Temmu,” I said.

“You have heard of bones and shells,” he said.

“I have heard of them,” I said, glancing at the scattering of debris on the floor, near the shogun.

“They do not lie,” said Lord Temmu.

“True, my lord,” I said. “They cannot lie, but, as they cannot speak, neither can they tell the truth.”

“Barbarian!” cried Daichi.

“They can be read,” said Lord Temmu.

“Across Thassa,” I said, “there are places where the livers of verr are examined, where formations of clouds are noted, the flights of birds observed, such things.”

“That is superstition,” said Daichi.

“That seems likely,” I said.

“Gross superstition,” said Daichi.

“There are many ways in which to obtain one’s rice,” I said. “Surely one of the most unusual is the reading of bones and shells.”

“It requires years to learn to read bones and shells,” said Daichi.

“I know a fellow named Boots Tarsk-Bit,” I said, “who could manage it in less than an Ehn.”

“He must be extraordinarily gifted,” said Daichi.

“I think so,” I said.

“The messenger, Tajima,” said Lord Temmu, “has perhaps relayed to you an account of a reading in the palace of Yamada.”

“As I recall,” I said, “unless the house of Temmu yields to the house of Yamada, the iron dragon will fly, with possibly disastrous consequences to both houses.”

“Yes,” said Lord Temmu.

“Lord Yamada,” I said, “doubtless fears its flight.”

“Of course,” said Lord Temmu.

“I trust,” I said, glancing at the debris to the side, “you have had your own reader, Daichi
san
, either confirm or disconfirm that reading.”

I do not think I had hitherto understood, or taken with sufficient seriousness, the possibility that the shogun might credit the distribution of small objects spilled on a hardwood floor with such portent. To be sure, I knew there was much precedent for such views. Might not the ravings of a lunatic, the occurrence of an eclipse, the conjunction of planets, a monstrous birth, change the courses of states, launch armies, even delay retreats until retreat was no longer possible? I now, suddenly, as I had not before, began to suspect an explanation for dalliance and hesitation, for vacillation, for inexplicable, anomalous tactics, for a sessile strategy of timidity, immobility, restraint, and defense. Such a strategy I had often thought might have been designed by Lord Yamada himself, and now, for the first time, it struck me, like a fist, that it may well have been designed by Lord Yamada himself. Small objects lie about mute, planets go about their business, birds fly where they wish, but such things are interpreted. What are the babblings of an entranced sibyl, moaning and swaying on her tripod, drunk with fumes, without the enlightening interpretations of astute priests? I then understood better why Sumomo was present. Was it not she whom Tajima had discovered on the parapet, casting some object into the night?

“His reading is similar,” said Lord Temmu, “but somewhat more extensive, or detailed.”

“My reading is, of course, more recent,” said Daichi.

“I understand,” I said.

“The overlap of the readings, of course,” said Daichi, “proves the probity of both readings, which would be inexplicable other than on the grounds of truth and fact.”

“How could they agree otherwise,” I said.

Perhaps, I thought, if the communication between the holding and the enemy were better they might agree even more closely.

“Speak,” said Lord Temmu, to Daichi.

“That the house of Temmu should yield to the house of Yamada,” he said, “is clear, but the manner of yielding is less clear. What may be involved is not abject surrender, but accommodation.”

“Interesting,” I said.

“Rather than surrender,” said Daichi, “Lord Temmu would prefer the termination of his line and the destruction of the holding altogether, even should the iron dragon spread its wings.”

“I thought he might,” I said.

“Even though the sun be devoured and the land cast into the sea.”

“I see,” I said. I recalled Tajima had said something of this sort in the encampment. Certainly it had never occurred to me that Lord Temmu would abandon the holding, and such. He would be prepared to accept the consequences for not doing so, however unpleasant, or disastrous.

“The iron dragon does not exist,” I said. “It is a beast of legend, a creature of myth. It does not exist. It is not to be feared.”

“The bones and shells do not lie,” said Daichi, in a terrible voice, pointing to the objects in question.

“Perhaps,” I said, “those who read them might—be mistaken.”

“It is said,” said Lord Temmu, “that they are sometimes hard to understand.”

“That is true,” said Daichi solemnly.

“How do you read them?” I asked Daichi. It seemed this was important, particularly with two large Ashigaru behind me.

“The readings are similar,” said Daichi, “in a sense identical, namely, that the house of Temmu must yield to the house of Yamada, or the iron dragon will fly, and destroy the house of Temmu.”

“And Lord Yamada fears the flight of the iron dragon might prove disastrous to both houses?” I said.

“Yes,” said Daichi.

“I gather Lord Temmu does not intend to surrender,” I said.

“It is only required, to avoid ruin,” said Daichi, “that Lord Temmu yield.”

“Surrender?” I said.

“Do not read things into the bones and shells,” warned Daichi.

“I shall attempt to refrain from doing so,” I said.

“I requested Daichi
san
to cast the bones and shells in such a way as to seek the clarification of the message,” said Lord Temmu.

“And he has succeeded in doing so?” I said.

“Fortunately,” said Lord Temmu. “Would you care for a sip of sake?”

“Not really,” I said.

But Sumomo had already drawn to the side, where three small cups resided on a flat lacquered tray. These she filled from a small vessel. I watched her hands carefully. I noted, to my satisfaction, that she poured all three cups from the same vessel.

“You wished to see me?” I said to Lord Temmu.

“Yes,” said Lord Temmu.

Sumomo politely, her head shyly down, held the tray first to Lord Temmu and then to Daichi. Each took one of the small cups. That left one cup on the tray.

“Tarl Cabot
san
,” she said softly, holding the tray to me.

A slave, of course, would not speak the name of a free man, lest it be soiled on her lips. She might, of course, in discourse, refer to a free man, her master or others, if it were suitable to do so. For example, if she were asked her master’s name, she would certainly volunteer this information, with suitable deference. Sumomo, of course, was not a slave, at least
per se
, but a contract woman.

I took the small cup.

Lord Temmu took a sip of sake first. Daichi, the reader of bones and shells, then sipped from the tiny cup.

“I am not thirsty,” I said.

“Please,” said Lord Temmu.

I recalled that all three cups had been filled from the same small vessel. Too, I had paid careful attention to the small, lovely hands of Sumomo. Also, I was in the castle of the holding. Also, there were two large Ashigaru, armed, behind me.

I sipped the sake.

I recalled from Tarncamp that one was not to throw sake down as one might a paga or kal-da.

“It is excellent, is it not?” inquired Lord Temmu.

“I am sure it is,” I said. To be sure, I doubted I could tell one sake from another. To be sure, this one did seem different. It reminded me, somehow, of veminium.

“You wished to see me,” I said.

“Yes,” said Lord Temmu.

“You are displeased with the raids?” I said.

“Lord Temmu is pleased, of course,” said Daichi, “with the provisioning of the holding, the termination of the siege, the freeing of the northern fields.”

“He is less pleased with how these things came about?” I said.

“There remains the matter of the bones and shells,” said Daichi.

“Enjoy your sake,” said Lord Temmu, pleasantly.

I took another sip.

I shook my head a little.

“To whomsoever is appointed to the command of the cavalry,” I said, “I would recommend a continuation of the raids on the heartland of Lord Yamada, abetted with judicious skirmishes and attacks of small scale. I think that that is your best route to some sort of truce or accommodation. I doubt that the forces of the house of Temmu could meet those of the house of Yamada on the open field.”

“Even with tarns?” inquired Lord Temmu.

“There are too few tarns,” I said.

“I fear,” said Daichi, “that Lord Yamada has been angered.”

“I do not see how that could well be helped,” I said. “Perhaps Sumomo could light a lamp,” I said.

“Does the room grow dark?” asked Lord Temmu.

I put the tiny cup of sake down, beside my right knee.

“Would you like more sake?” asked Lord Temmu.

“No,” I said.

Of course, I thought. The sake was poured from the same vessel. But in one of the cups would be the waiting ingredient, perhaps only a few drops but enough, enough, in the cup which would be given me. But there was little that I could have done in any case. I felt my arms drawn behind me by the two Ashigaru.

“The bones and shells do not lie,” said Daichi, “however they are cast, whoever casts them, whether, say, by the reader of Lord Yamada or unworthy, humble Daichi, faithful retainer of Lord Temmu.”

I felt my arms corded together.

The room was growing dark.

I could not resist; I felt very weak; I did not think I could rise. I was hardly aware of what was ensuing.

“We must save the house of Temmu,” said Daichi. “Allegedly the iron dragon stirs. If the house of Temmu does not yield to the house of Yamada, it will emerge from its lair, will be awing, and will destroy the house of Temmu.”

“The yielding will be a small thing,” said Lord Temmu. “The concession is negligible. Lord Yamada wants only peace. He fears the iron dragon as much, perhaps more, than we. He wants little. Our yielding will bring the peace you so foolishly would pursue by tarn and fire, by marches and steel.”

“The bones and shells have spoken clearly,” said Daichi.