The Initiate Brother Duology (133 page)

Tesseko,
Shuyun thought,
Botahara protect you.

Shuyun nodded to one of the men sitting to the Khan’s left. “That man,” he said, still speaking in the language of the tribes, “he has contracted the plague. Look at the flush on his face. He struggles to control his cough, but he will not succeed for much longer.” The other chieftains cast uncertain glances at the man Shuyun singled out. “You cannot cleanse the plague by fire, it is among you and can only be stopped by the ministrations of my own Order. You may take the throne, but it will not be yours for more than a few days.” Shuyun let his words have their effect, seeing the arrogance of the men around the Khan quickly dissolve. There was no honor or profit in death by disease.

“The Empress has sent me to offer you your lives, for you will certainly lose them if you do not listen. In return she asks only that you lay down your arms. Your safe conduct to the northern border is guaranteed.”

The Khan pointed the tip of his sheathed sword at Shuyun. “I sent an emissary to the walls of Rhojo-ma before it fell. He carried a flag of peace as you do now—and this man was murdered with an arrow because the lords of Seh did not like to hear the truth of their own blunders. Does the Empress expect to save her throne with a simple lie? She must believe I am some barbarian huntsman who has never seen the inside of a city’s walls. When I have taken all of Wa and sit upon the Dragon Throne she will know differently—will become one of my concubines willingly. I had hoped to begin my reign by sparing the Imperial Capital.” The Khan shrugged. He looked over at the chieftain who had first spoken and nodded.

The chieftain hesitated for the briefest second, then rose, drawing his sword. The guards who knelt nearby did the same. Shuyun reached up and tore the banner from his staff, lifting it to a guard position, pushing himself into a meditative state.

The guards spread out to either side and then one leapt forward, aiming a blow at Shuyun’s hands, but the monk’s staff moved in a blur and the man lay still on the green field.

The men hesitated then and Shuyun pounced upon their doubt. “Your Khan will sacrifice you to the plague so that he may sit upon the throne for the last few days of his life. The Brotherhood can save you….”

Another man lunged at Shuyun, but his attack was thwarted brutally as another guard cut him down, then turned on the man beside him. The barbarian chieftains leapt off the dais and joined the struggle. Shuyun saved the man who sided with him from a sword blow that would have meant his end. Suddenly the chieftains and the guards rushed him at once.

The flag staff hummed as it cut the air. Shuyun disarmed a man and rendered another unconscious. A barbarian stepped inside his guard and Shuyun was forced to drop the staff. He clutched the man’s sword as Komawara had seen in the desert and deflected the blow, driving another man back with what appeared to be a blow that never landed. Another barbarian warrior was dealt with in this manner, and suddenly the attack came to a halt. The barbarian warriors stood staring at the monk as though he were a ghost.

A cough escaped one of the chieftains and then, as all stood frozen, this man stepped forward and drove the point of his sword into the Khan where he stood before the wooden throne. The man who had gathered the tribes sagged slowly to his knees, staring forward at Shuyun, his eyes losing focus. A guard stepped forward and plunged his own point into the Khan’s chest so that he fell back and to the side, his body limp.

No one moved to avenge this action, and the chieftain who had struck the first blow was suddenly racked with a fit of coughing. The others took a step away. Several fled then and horses were heard at a gallop.

When the man had recovered, he turned to Shuyun. “That is the end of the man who brought us here to die in a strange land for his greater glory. The others may do as they choose, but my own people will lay down their arms, Brother. How will I know that the army of Lord Shonto will not fall upon us once we are defenseless?”

Shuyun did not answer for a second, and then he reached into his robe and pulled out the jade pendant on its chain. “I will swear by the Botara denu. The Empress will give you safe passage to the border of Seh.” Shuyun gestured to the ground. “Bring your weapons here. Separate the sick from the well and the monks of my Order will come. Do not cleanse again with fire, it will save no one. Tomorrow Brothers will begin to arrive. Others must come from there.” Shuyun gestured toward the Mountain of the Pure Spirit. “It will take some few days.”

The chieftains looked on, saying nothing. An occasional glance was cast toward the Khan, but it was obvious the men were stunned into inaction by what had happened. Shuyun took a step forward, then hesitated. “I would
see to your Khan,” he said quietly. No one moved, so the monk knelt beside the fallen leader. Immediately, he made a sign to Botahara. “His spirit has fled,” Shuyun said. Pulling the robe off the man’s shoulder, he exposed the skin and pointed there to three small lesions. “Your chieftain had the plague and did not yet know it,” Shuyun said and then rose slowly.

“I will return at sunrise. The Imperial Army will not be allowed onto these fields, but do not be alarmed if you see small patrols of armed riders. We must be certain that the plague is not spread.” Shuyun bowed then and turned back toward the city. As he went, he chanted a long prayer of thanksgiving.

A great cry went up suddenly behind him and the monk spun around. The sounds of clashing steel echoed across the open ground and Shuyun almost covered his eyes. The barbarian fought among themselves. He could see the great army of the desert, a seething mass of horses and men writhing like a great dying beast.

Footsteps sounded behind him, but Shuyun did not turn. Komawara and Hojo arrived at his side and still others stopped nearby.

“What has happened, Brother,” Hojo asked, great wonder in his voice.

“Step away, General, Lord Komawara, I have been in contact with the plague.” The others did as Shuyun asked. “The Khan is dead, killed by one of his own chieftains. They war among themselves now—those who would lay down their arms and be cured and those who would avenge the death of their leader.”

“At least they expend their energies upon each other,” Hojo said.

“It is the saddest of days, General. The Kalam has always maintained that most of the tribesmen followed the Khan against their will.” He pointed out toward the raging battle. “The innocent are dying in numbers as great as those who came to murder and burn.”

Komawara waved toward the city. “We must retreat to the walls, Shuyun-sum. There is nothing we can do and it is possible they may turn against us yet.”

Reluctantly Shuyun turned and followed the young lord back toward the city.

Shonto guards held boats at the canal and Shuyun waited while the others were whisked across the canal to the open door, the sound of battle echoing off the walls. He would need to bathe himself in the appropriate herbs and destroy his clothing.

The monk stood among the trees, unable to block the sounds of the fighting from his ears. He knelt upon the grass but an attempt to chant came to nothing so he was left, battered by the sounds of the terrible battle.

I have accomplished that which any warrior of Wa would have willingly sacrificed his life to achieve—I have caused the enemy to destroy themselves. Botahara forgive me, I meant only to heal them and save the people of the capital.

Shonto guards spread out around Shuyun suddenly, keeping their distance, staring out at the raging struggle. A light step stopped three paces away.

“Shuyun-sum?” the Empress said softly. “Even a selfless act of charity may bring about utter calamity. Knowing this cannot stop us from being charitable. These tribesmen have their own karma which even the Teacher may not control.”

Someone came forward then and set the monk’s trunk a few paces away. Shuyun looked up to see the Kalam, his face drawn as though in pain.

“Shimeko-sum,” Shuyun whispered. “It was she who carried the plague to the tribes.”

The Empress slowly sank to her knees, covering her mouth as she did do. “She could not have done such a thing…not knowingly.”

Shuyun shook his head sadly. “She could hardly have acted so out of ignorance. The Botahist trained….” He left the sentence unfinished.

“I cannot think what karma this will bring,” Nishima said. “Life after life after life….”

Shuyun nodded.

“Excuse my interruption, Empress.” General Hojo stood some distance off. “This is not a secure place. The battle is spreading over the fields. We must allow Shuyun to perform his purification so that we may all find safety inside the walls.”

The Empress nodded. “Shuyun-sum. Only you tried to save the tribes. Do not forget the purity of your intent. All others would have let them die, taking the population of the capital with them. Your purpose was pure.”

“Thank you for your council, Empress,” Shuyun said.

The woman in crimson robes stopped as she rose. “No one can hear our words, Shuyun-sum. Please, do not banish Nishi-sum from the world entirely. I—I must exist somewhere,” she said, her voice growing small, “in
your company, if I may.” She retreated then and guards surrounded her quickly.

Shuyun went to his trunk and opened the lid.

By the time Shuyun entered the capital, the barbarian tribes had divided themselves into distinct camps and, for the most part, the fighting had ceased although it flared up again for brief moments between one group and another.

Shonto guards escorted the monk into the nearby guardhouse where he found the Empress accompanied by Lady Kitsura. Lord Komawara, Lord Shonto Shokan, Hojo, the Kalam, and Rohku Saicha had appeared, taking charge of the Empress’ personal guard.

All bowed low to Shuyun as he entered and he found this disturbing, considering the results of his recent action.

“We have a boat awaiting in the nearest canal, Empress. It is a short walk. I apologize, we have no sedan chair,” Hojo said.

“Apologize only when you have a sedan chair, Masakado-sum,” Nishima said. “I will have the council pass an edict ordering all sedan chairs in the capital be put to the torch.” She nodded toward the door.

Guards formed a tight circle around the Empress, Kitsura, and Shuyun, and the monk found himself hemmed in and close to his sovereign.

Out in the avenue two long lines of warriors held back the jostling crowds. Shuyun saw the black of Imperial Guards, Shonto blue, Butto purple—the remains of Lord Shonto’s army assuring the safety of the woman they had placed on the throne.

Once the Empress was seen, the people bowed low and a whisper passed down the street like a cool breeze. Both the name of the Empress and his own became almost a chant. Suddenly flower petals of all colors were strewn before the party as they made their way to the quay.

Lord Butto stood at the head of the stairs where several boats were moored, and he knelt and bowed low as the Empress approached. Quickly the small group embarked, Kitsura and Shuyun into the same craft as the Empress, the others into boats both before and behind.

Shuyun felt Nishima breathe a sigh of relief as the boats gained the center of the canal. The banks were thick with the thousands who had hoped to flee the war, and had come to its very center. They began to cheer suddenly, their respect for their new sovereign momentarily overcome by their relief at being delivered from the barbarian army.

Shuyun heard his name chanted now as he had heard the crowds chant Komawara’s name for the many lives he had taken in battle. He felt a warm hand take his own and looked over to see his young Empress turned toward him—a look of understanding, of compassion.

The lords of Wa were wise, he found himself thinking. Here sits the woman deserving to rule the Empire. And yet her subjects will never understand that she has given up her own peace so that theirs would be assured.

I
N A SMALL audience hall near the Imperial Apartments the Empress had gathered her closest advisors, which meant the only functionary of the Empire’s government present was the Major Chancellor, Kamu.

It was late and the sounds of movement on the fields outside the city had finally ceased. For the second time an enormous fire burned outside the city as the barbarians burned all those who had fallen that day. At last light it appeared the barbarian army had split utterly and though this had caused a flood of relief throughout the capital, anxiety had not disappeared. Everyone waited to be sure the barbarians would not reform their vast army under a new leader. First light would see crowds gathered on the northern walls, there was no doubt of that.

General Hojo bowed low. “The barbarian army has split into three parts,” he began, addressing his remarks to the Major Chancellor.

Nishima almost grimaced and waved a gold silk fan at the Shonto officer. “Masakado-sum, please, I cannot bear this custom. We are not in a council of state…do not speak to Kamu-sum as though I were not present.” She tried a small smile.

“Excuse me, Empress,” the soldier said bowing. He returned to the kneeling position and took a second to gather his thoughts. “Since the fall of the Khan this morning, the barbarian army has split. One company, the easternmost tribes according to Kalam, have begun to move north, some on the canal but many by foot and on horse. This is perhaps a fourth part of those who survived the battle between the tribes. A much smaller group has broken
off and makes its way northeast—we are not certain of their intent, Empress, but Brother Shuyun has suggested they may make their way toward the temples on the Mountain of the Pure Spirit. They know the Botahist Brothers possess a cure for their disease. The third group—the majority by far—remain in the fields north of the city, awaiting the healers we have promised.”