The Initiate Brother Duology (117 page)

Completing her rounds, Shimeko bowed to Brother Sotura and made her way up to the deck. It was a dark night, thin clouds covering the stars. She took many lungfuls of the clear air and walked to the rail, leaning over it and staring down into the black water. They were back in the canal now, south of Denji Gorge. The fleet proceeded at a faster pace, for the canal was almost free of the boats of the refugees which had been detained in Denji Gorge until Shonto’s fleet passed.

The evening was warm, full of the scents of spring, the sounds. Had she heard a nightingale earlier?

“Do you fare well, Shimeko-sum?” a whisper came to her out of the dark. A woman’s voice.

The quiet swirl of an oar in the water. There in the dark, the shape of a boat and someone sitting to paired oars.

“Morima-sum?”

“Yes. I have come to be sure these fool monks have not let you become ill.”

Shimeko had to stay absolutely still to hear—even the noise of her robe moving would mask the words. “I remain well, but you should not come so close, Sister. It is unwise.”

Shimeko was not sure if she heard a chuckle or if it was merely the bubble of oars in the water. “You have left your Teacher to come serve the sick, Shimeko-sum, or perhaps it was his bidding?”

The younger woman felt herself relax a little in resignation. It was as Morima said, they would never let her be.

“What is it you wish to know, Morima-sum?”

The sound of oars, unmistakable this time.

“I wish to know what is truth and what is merely a fabric of lies, Aco…Shimeko-sum. But the Sisters have other concerns. They wish to know if this young monk is the one so many await. Recently rumors have been whispered—Lady Nishima…she is an attractive woman.” A pause. “You were her secretary, Shimeko-sum.”

The former nun resisted the urge to hang her head in her hands. She shook her head in the darkness.
A woman’s cry of ecstasy….

“Shimeko-sum?”

She said nothing. The swirl of oars holding a boat in position. Again. And yet again.

“May you find tranquillity of purpose, my young seeker,” the voice whispered and the dark form disappeared into the shadow of the canal bank.

T
HE RIVER BOATS of Shonto’s fleet passed slowly by on the constant east wind and on almost every craft warriors lined the rail, bowing low to their liege-lord. Shonto sat on a wooden dock under a blue silk awning and though his retainers bowed as they passed, the lord was hidden from sight behind screens of bamboo and Shonto banners.

Aboard the passing ships there was an uncommon silence, almost funereal in its pervasiveness and emotional weight. News had spread very quickly.

Kneeling before Shonto were the lord’s senior advisors, several ranking officers, and sundry allies. Dressed in robes of blue over which he wore a surcoat in the same color bearing only the shinta blossom in a circle, Shonto was an imposing figure. A powerful man in more than just position.

As was the lord’s custom, he allowed the silence to last longer than one would expect, like a Botahist Master who gave his students time to attain the proper state of tranquillity so that they would be better prepared to learn. The lord’s retainers were used to this and all others present remained respectfully quiet and still.

“General Hojo,” Shonto said at last, “could you explain the situation.”

The senior general bowed and composed himself before addressing the council. “It was artfully done, Sire. Our own patrols monitored the progress of the small barbarian army which made its way down the canal and the western bank, but the companies that took the locks at Denji Gorge were from the main barbarian force and made their way secretly through the country east of the canal.”

Hojo paused to collect his thoughts. “The locks were to be filled in with stone by workers from Lord Butto’s fief and this task was to be watched over by Imperial Guards and Butto House Guards. The attacking barbarian forces were large and unexpected. We do not know details, but the locks and positions of defense at either end of the gorge are in barbarian hands; losses are unknown. This gives the Khan access to large numbers of river craft, for many of the refugees had not yet locked out of the gorge. We expect the small barbarian army to increase its speed as a result.”

The banners fluttered in a small gust and conversation waited until this noise stopped. Both Jaku Katta and Lord Butto sat calmly, showing no sign that it had been their troops guarding the locks. Shonto sat quietly for a moment, watching a hawk soar high over the canal.

“It appears that we have few courses left open to us. If we turn and fight the small army pursuing us, even were we to win, our own force would be reduced substantially. Yet if we continue south, we must meet the Imperial Army. Commanded by whom?” Obviously the lord was thinking aloud and no one attempted to answer.

Shonto put his fingertips together, staring at nothing. “No matter who commands the Emperor’s forces, I would prefer to meet them with an army at my back rather than as a ragtag company of survivors.” He turned to Jaku Katta. “General Jaku, who do you imagine will command the Emperor’s army?”

Jaku bowed and returned to a sitting position, hands on his thighs. “There are several generals who served the Yamaku in the Interim Wars who could be called from retirement, Lord Shonto. At least three are worthy commanders and still young enough to wage such a campaign, but none of these are favored by the Emperor. My own brother, Tadamoto-sum, is the acting commander of the Guard, but he has no experience in warfare. I have given this much thought, Sire, and I believe that the Emperor will act as his own commander of forces. The Son of Heaven trusts few and of the few he trusts he doubts their abilities.” Jaku bowed again.

Shonto nodded. “Huh. I have allowed myself to hope that the commander of the Imperial Army might be convinced to betray his Emperor…. Difficult, yeh?” Shonto shrugged. “I believe we must go on. Somehow the armies must be joined or the barbarians cannot be defeated. The armies cannot stand alone, no matter what the cost.” Looking around the gathering, Shonto said, “I will hear other opinions of this matter.”

Lord Komawara bowed. “If the barbarians are to be defeated, I agree, Sire. Our army must be kept whole until we meet the Emperor’s force. The Son of Heaven must realize what we face. He will certainly fall without our support. All possibilities will be open for discussion then.”

Shonto nodded to the young lord. The fact that Komawara had actually spoken first was not lost on the others.

“It is impossible to know what will happen when we meet the Emperor, if indeed it is the Emperor, Sire,” Kamu said. “I would prefer not to leave a matter of such import so open to the whims of fate and situation. Can we not approach the Emperor now? If he realizes he will lose his throne without our support, as Lord Komawara has said, the Emperor should welcome discussion.”

“I agree with Steward Kamu, Lord Shonto,” Lord Butto said. “We should not wait to begin discussions with the Son of Heaven. We are in a position of power— the Emperor cannot continue to sit on his throne without our help.”

Jaku Katta shook his head. “Excuse me for saying so, but I have had quiet contact with the palace. The Emperor believes the entire barbarian army is represented by the mere fraction—the small army—that pursues us. The Son of Heaven will not be willing to listen until he realizes the true peril. To approach the palace now would be to no avail.”

General Hojo stroked his beard as he did when lost in thought. His bow was barely perfunctory, though no one appeared to notice. “The suggestion that Prince Wakaro approach his father comes to mind again. Perhaps the Prince could be an envoy in his father’s court.”

Shonto frowned. “I suspect that having received no response from the Emperor to his letters has led the Prince to reconsider his offer. Even a son of the Emperor can lose favor at court. Certainly we could send the Prince to the capital, but I believe it would be a course of futility. The Prince may serve a purpose among us yet. We should keep him close.

“It is only a matter of days until we arrive in the capital. If we are to have another course, we must decide now. Consider this. Our enemy is showing himself more resourceful than we had previously thought possible. After the clumsy attack on Rhojo-ma I did not consider him a general of note. But now…. This barbarian chieftain has stopped our destruction of crops which will allow him to feed his army, and he has seized the locks at Denji
Gorge from formidable warriors. As Soto wrote: we cannot rely on this Khan to make a mistake. If we do not raise a force of sufficient size to challenge this desert army, then retreat may be our only recourse. It is not beyond question that we would allow this Khan to take the Imperial Capital—and then he will sit upon the throne he so desires.”

T
HE BOAT THAT bore the Emperor to war had sails of crimson silk, a hull ornate with carvings and gilt, a dragon’s head on its prow, and sixty men to man the oars should the Son of Heaven lose the favor of the Wind Goddess. On the decks beautiful women played music while other women of equal beauty danced, their long sleeves swaying with the intricate movements of their hands. The Emperor did not go to war as did other men.

Tadamoto waited at the dock that had been prepared for the Emperor’s arrival. Banners rustled in the wind, and guards knelt in curving rows forming the shape of a dragon fan. The petals of fresh flowers had been strewn across new mats laid out on the dock, and a guard stood at the end of this fragrant path holding a gray stallion of famous lineage.

An Emperor who rode a horse rather than a sedan chair, who led his own army, turned his back on the religion of Botahara, and in whose hand a sword was more than a sign of office. Tadamoto shook his head—he served an Emperor who would go down in history as defying the pattern, there was no doubt.

Shonto’s army was only days away, certainly less than seven, moving by both day and night and reportedly burning any craft that hindered its progress. With the rebel lord’s army came Tadamoto’s elder brother and this must lead to a reckoning that the young colonel could not think about with ease. Tadamoto had begun to sleep poorly and felt the effects of this more each day.

A sudden strengthening of the wind caused the Emperor’s boat to heel
slightly and pick up speed, a white wave appearing at the bow as though the dragon on the prow rode forward on a cloud. Willow trees billowed in the breeze, hissing like angry old women waving their arms at truant children.

Straining to overcome the distance, Tadamoto searched the deck of the Emperor’s boat for a familiar form—seeking among the flowing silk robes of the dancers, among those who watched. He could not find her there and he was both disappointed and relieved. If Osha was in the Emperor’s retinue, then there would be a chance for her and Tadamoto to speak—with the first battle just over the horizon he would welcome such an opportunity—but he neither wanted her in danger nor in the Emperor’s company.

With sails dropping and sailors swarming to smother them, the boat fetched the dock just as she lost all way, as perfectly executed as one could imagine. Like everyone within sight, Tadamoto bowed his head to the ground. The Emperor showed no sign of disembarking, however, at least not until the melody and dance was complete. All waited.

At last the performance ended and the Emperor rose and made his way among the bowing retainers to the stairs. As he stepped onto the dock, the Emperor spoke Tadamoto’s name and gestured for the colonel to walk with him.

“Shonto’s army has reached Chin-ja?”

Tadamoto nodded. “It has, Emperor. They progress at speed.”

“And this rumor is unquestionably true, then?”

Tadamoto lowered his voice. “The Prince’s banner flies beside the shinta blossom.” Saying this he cast the briefest glance over his shoulder at the women on the Emperor’s boat.

“We both have known betrayal, Tadamoto-sum. It is a great sadness.” They walked a few steps further, the Emperor lost in thought. “You will be the new Commander of my Guard, Colonel Jaku,” the Emperor said suddenly. “May you erase the shame your brother has brought to your name.”