The Initiate Brother Duology (127 page)

Taiki took a barbarian’s helmet off with a blow and then finished the stunned rider with a perfectly aimed cut. He looked around for Lord Shonto but could find him nowhere. Shouts were heard now:
the canal, they had found the canal.

*   *   *

They waited in the mist, absolutely still. Nishima had lost track of the times Shuyun had made them do this, or ordered them to turn suddenly, or reverse direction all together.

“What is it, Brother? What do you hear?” Kitsura whispered.

Nishima leaned close to her cousin. “Say nothing. Shuyun-sum can sense chi at some distance. Do not destroy his focus.”

Kitsura’s beautiful face was pale, frightened, yet she struggled to maintain a semblance of dignity even so. She nodded at Nishima’s words.

Riders had passed close to them several times and they often heard the barbarians’ horns and the clash of swords. Shuyun looked up at the sky which showed some signs of the lightest blue.

“The fog is clearing to the east, we are forced toward the canal.”

He tugged at the reins of Kitsura’s mare and Nishima moved her horse to
stay close beside him. They went perhaps a hundred feet and the mist grew thicker again. Shuyun motioned for an abrupt turn to the left, then stopped them again. Riders could be heard close by, many riders by the sounds. Kitsura mumbled the Bahitra. The riders passed.

Leading them another hundred feet, Shuyun suddenly stopped, his eyes closed. A man coughed somewhere nearby though Nishima did not know from what direction this sound came.

Shuyun spoke and his voice sounded strange, distant. “Do not move from this spot no matter what occurs.” He handed the reins of Kitsura’s mare to Lady Nishima, pressing her hand as he did so.

Moving his horse forward the monk slipped into the mist. Kitsura reached out and gripped her cousin’s sleeve. The sound of something of weight striking the ground came to them and then a riderless horse appeared before them, causing their own horses to shy, throwing Kitsura to the ground.

Shuyun appeared then, dismounting quickly and helping Kitsura to rise.

“Are you injured, Lady Kitsura?”

She shook her head. “No….” Moving her arm in an arc, she tried to smile. “No, I am unharmed. The ground is soft.” She remounted with the monk’s assistance.

Without further hesitation they moved off, more quickly now. The fog was clearing, there was no doubt.

As the mist pushed back, Shuyun pressed the horses into a canter. Soon the sounds of battle seemed to recede and they stopped infrequently now.

There was a shout to their right. “Ride,” Shuyun called out. “Stop for nothing.” Saying this, he whipped Kitsura’s mount with his reins and turned toward the sound of horses bearing down.

The circle of their world had drawn itself out to half a rih and in their entire world Nishima could see no moving figure. At a low stone wall time was lost while Nishima jumped both horses over, one at a time. Kitsura climbed over, one fall being enough for the day.

They rode on, seeing no one, and finally Nishima pulled their horses up, looking back over her shoulder.

“Brother Shuyun said to stop for nothing,” Kitsura panted.

Nishima shook her head. “But he is alone. How many were there, did you see?”

Kitsura shrugged. “I cannot see through fog, cousin. I think the capital is showing through the mist, look.”

Off to their left the white walls of the city reflected the afternoon sun.

“I am entirely turned around, Kitsu-sum.” She wiped her brow with a sleeve in a most unladylike action, causing her cousin to laugh.

“It is not a time for laughter, cousin,” Nishima scolded.

“Excuse me, Nishi-sum, I…excuse me.” She forced her face into seriousness though her eyes still retained a sparkle.

The sound of a horse running over soft ground came from behind them and they both turned to see a rider jump a ditch.

“It is Brother Shuyun, cousin,” Kitsura said, “I am certain.”

Nishima pressed her horse forward to meet the monk. When he stopped, she rode up beside him embracing him from her saddle. Kitsura examined a tree in the distance and the beauty of the capital appearing from the shroud of mist.

Waving toward the north and west where the fog was clearing, Shuyun pulled free of Nishima’s arms. She released him reluctantly and turned to look.

Among the tendrils of dissipating mist the Imperial Army straggled over the fields, making their way toward the capital in small groups, many on foot, having shed their armor to make better speed. Spread out over many rih, the silent, defeated soldiers of Wa retreated.

“Where is my father in all of this?” Nishima asked.

Shuyun shook his head. He pointed east and Nishima turned to see a large force off in the distance moving toward the river. “Lord Taiki’s army?” she said.

“Barbarians,” Shuyun said quietly. “That line of retreat is cut off. The Khan will force us all into the capital.”

They began to move again. A flowing ditch was used to water the horses and Shuyun stopped them then to let the horses graze for a time.

Sitting on the bank in the warm spring sun it seemed to Nishima that there could hardly be a war only a few rih away. She closed her eyes and tried to make herself believe it was all a dream, but when she opened them the retreating army told her the dream was true.

Taking her reins from Shuyun as they remounted, Kitsura said, “There is no fog for me to become lost in, Brother. I must learn to ride while I may.”

A group of horsemen converged with them and though Nishima’s tendency was to avoid them Shuyun thought that they wore the midnight blue of the Komawara and this proved to be true.

“We became separated from our lord in the fog and confusion of battle,” an officer, one Narihira Chisato explained. One of the men was obviously injured, though not bleeding. Shuyun forced him to dismount and examined his injuries—broken ribs and terrible bruises. The injured man’s companions made a bundle of his armor and strapped it behind his saddle.

“Was there news of my father, Lord Shonto?” Nishima asked, almost afraid of what she might be told.

The officer turned back toward the scene of the battle as though searching for the answer to Nishima’s question. “Lord Shonto joined Lord Taiki,” he said, still looking out over the field, “no doubt regaining control of the army. We charged the barbarians then, Lady Nishima, to protect the retreat. Since that time we have seen no sign of Lord Shonto’s force.” He waved toward the thousands whose paths converged on the capital. “All we have spoken to are from the Emperor’s army which was routed before they could retreat. The Son of Heaven has fled, surrendering the field to the barbarian pretender. It is a black day, Lady Nishima. The north wind blew out of the desert and brought ruin upon us.” The man shook his head sadly and said no more.

The small party continued in silence, pushing their tired mounts on toward the Imperial city. As if the gods of wind and weather had not caused enough pain for one day, the western sky was lit with a sunset that caused the heart to ache.

“It is a sign of the end of a glorious empire,” one warrior whispered. The others glared at him and he bowed, whispering apologies.

Darkness came slowly, the colors of the sunset lingering after the stars appeared in the east. The lights of the capital flickered to life and the night finally turned dark. Seven Imperial Guards joined them and nothing was asked or offered about the identities of the riders without armor.

Nishima and Kitsura pulled cowls over their heads and the darkness masked them well enough. Both were careful not to speak and the Komawara guard formed a protective wall between the guardsmen and the others. Little was said, at any rate, each alone with their thoughts.

The Empire had fallen;
that was enough to occupy the mind.

T
HE NORTHERN GATE to the Imperial Capital was open and the bridge that crossed the canal to it had not yet been destroyed. A party of Imperial Guards were stationed at the entrance, or had merely taken it upon themselves to stand guard, it was not clear which.

Lady Nishima’s party was challenged as they rode up though it seemed to be mainly for the sake of form—so many fled to the capital. One of the Imperial Guards in Nishima’s company identified himself as the Great Khan come looking for a good inn and in the ensuing laughter they slipped into the city of the Emperor.

The streets and canals were choked with the soldiers of the Imperial Army and panicked residents and refugees attempting to make their way toward the city’s eastern gates and the Lake of the Lost Dragon. No organized defense was in evidence and robbery and looting had begun in plain view.

“Where is the Imperial Guard?” Kitsura whispered. “Will the Emperor not defend the city? Has he fled?”

Nishima shrugged, looking about, alarmed by what she saw. The guardsmen who had accompanied them into the city immediately went their separate ways and only Shuyun and the three Komawara guards remained. Among the thousands jostling in the streets this seemed little protection.

As they progressed into the city, Nishima’s fear began to recede. She realized that the looting was not widespread and that, generally, people were proceeding in an organized way and often offered assistance to others. She began to relax and smiled at her cousin who looked truly frightened.

Many of the soldiers were headed in the direction of the Island Palace, as was a large part of the population. Rumors said the Emperor had not fled and that the defense was being organized from the palace.

Although horses were seldom used in the capital, a city of canals and narrow streets, they were common that evening as the retreating army arrived. The city was not designed for transport by horse, however, and they soon encountered a footbridge too narrow to pass.

Shuyun turned into a tight alley which led out onto an avenue that ran along the edge of a major canal.

“Where shall we go, Shuyun-sum?” Nishima asked. Until then there had been little hope of going anywhere but where the crowds went.

“I do not know, my lady,” Shuyun answered, “your family residence will have been taken by Imperial Guards some time ago. Perhaps Lady Kitsura’s family have not left the city and we could find rest there for the evening. If we want news of what has happened in the field, I suggest we go toward the palace though your name cannot be spoken there.”

Nishima looked toward Kitsura. “I would like news of my family, cousin, but I understand your concern for Lord Shonto. My own family is more likely to be safe. Let us go to the palace gates at least and find out what we can.”

Nishima gave her cousin a smile of thanks that dissolved immediately into a look of concern. They followed the canal, walking their tired horses across a bridge where, for the first time in their lives, the two ladies were jostled by the people in the streets.

It was late in the night when they came to the Gate of Serenity and in the square before the gate thousands gathered. A few small fires blazed on the cobbles of the square and soldiers and guards rubbed shoulders with all manner of citizens.

Atop the gate black-clad Imperial Guards stood, ignoring all questions and taunts. A single bell sounded the hour of the owl as though only one bellkeeper in the entire city stayed at his post. The hour rang through the teeming city in a strangely empty way.

Nishima’s party dismounted and the Komawara guards took the animals in hand and loosened their saddle girths. One of the men walked off to see what could be learned, but when he returned he shrugged. “You can learn anything you desire here. The Emperor has fled, the Emperor has fallen on his sword. The barbarians are at the gates. The barbarians have gone toward
Yankura. Everything is being said, nothing is known.” He found a wall to place his back against and fell promptly to sleep.

*   *   *

Jaku Tadamoto, commander of the shattered Imperial Guard, found his way into the city aboard a commandeered sampan, sculled by two river men his guards had pressed into service. He was not seriously wounded though he was bruised and battered and his once fine armor, a gift from his brother Katta, had saved his life more than once.

Scholars make poor warriors,
he told himself over and over again.

The Imperial Army had been shattered and sent fleeing in disarray. The Emperor’s decision to take command himself had proven the army’s undoing. That and the Emperor’s refusal to join forces with Lord Shonto. Had Lord Shonto escaped with his army? Tadamoto wondered. Was there hope for the Empire yet?

A group of Imperial Guards looked on as he passed, yet none made a move to bow to their commander. Tadamoto saw no animosity in their looks. It was as though he had simply lost his rank; there was no anger on their part but neither was there respect.

Scholars make poor warriors,
he said to himself again.

He had but one intention now, to go to the palace and seek out his sovereign if the Emperor was not already on his way to Nitashi. Tadamoto had left his young brother, Yasata, as a guard in the palace—determined that at least one member of the Jaku would survive. They would escape. Tadamoto had a plan and gold enough. Had Osha received his message? Had she fled? He would take Yasata and find her. The three would make their way to the Islands of Konojii. It would be years before this desert-born Khan would cross a sea. It was likely that intrigue would have ended his reign before then—this chieftain did not know what would happen when he entered the Island Palace, could not imagine. He would learn to sleep lightly and listen to whispers.