Read The Initiate Brother Duology Online
Authors: Sean Russell
“Who shall be first?” Lady Nishima asked, rattling coins again.
“Lord Komawara must have that honor,” Lord Shonto insisted.
Cups were moved aside so the coins could be cast.
“Are you ready to know your future, Lord Komawara?” Nishima asked.
Lord Komawara nodded, and in one fluid motion Nishima spread the seven silver coins across the table.
All heads bent forward to examine the arrangement of the coins.
“It is clear that the pattern here is
The Boat
, Lord Komawara, symbol of both travel and prosperity.” Nishima said, not raising her eyes from the table.
“With the slight movement of two coins it could easily be
The Cloud
, could it not?” Lord Shonto asked.
The Cloud
was the symbol for romance, as all knew, and Lord Shonto’s comment caused Komawara some discomfort.
But Lady Nishima did not seem embarrassed by what Lord Shonto implied. “As you say, Uncle, but
The Boat
is too clear for
The Cloud
to be influential here, excuse me for saying so.”
“I bow to your superior source of knowledge,” Shonto said, nodding to his daughter.
“Here, Lord Komawara, it can be seen that one coin spoils the line of the keel.” She touched the coin with a long finger, careful not to change its position. “It indicates a danger to you, something you should beware of, perhaps, as
The Boat
indicates, on your return journey north. But also, prosperity may hold some danger for you. And again here, the coins that make the mast show that it is falling, indicating that there is danger in your immediate future. Only you could know what this might be.” She touched another coin, the only one that did not bear the outline of the
Mountain of Divine Inspiration
. “Here, the Prime Kowan is temptation; the open fan. Only time will tell what is hidden by the fan. All that can be said with certainty is that temptation will figure in your future, possibly related to prosperity, I cannot be sure. But temptation can be dangerous.” Nishima looked up and the serious faces of her companions reminded her that she had meant this to be fun.
“You seem to attract danger, Lord Komawara,” she said in a whisper. “Perhaps it is unwise for us to sit so close to you.” She looked about with wide eyes, as though something terrible was about to fall on them from the
sky. Everyone laughed in appreciation. And then, in the voice of an old crone, “you must keep your sword sharp, young Sire. The great world is full of…danger! You must watch behind you…and in front of you, not forgetting either side. Danger, danger, danger…” Her voice trailed off and her companions broke into applause.
Water arrived, and Lady Nishima took a moment to prepare more cha.
“Now, Uncle, I believe you must be next.”
“I am honored.”
Lady Nishima collected the coins and shook them again in their leather canister. Twice she removed the top and was about to cast them when she stopped, as though inspiration had fled. But then she looked up, a mischievous grin on her face.
“You do enjoy tormenting me, don’t you,” Shonto said.
And his daughter laughed and cast the coins of Kowan-sing, her long sleeve streaming behind the graceful sweep of her arm.
Shonto put his elbow on the table so that it hid the coins from the young woman’s view. “Ah, Nishi-sum! This is most interesting, most unusual!”
Laughing with the others, she snatched his arm out of the way. “Ah, Uncle, this
is
interesting. Who would think that your pattern would be
The Dragon
? It is not as clear a pattern as Lord Komawara’s, but the eyes are certain, and here,” she pointed, “is a curving tail.
The Dragon
symbolizes both power and mystery.”
Nishima paused then, examining the coins with complete concentration. In the distance, a flock of cranes passed south over the plain, unnoticed by the occupants of the summerhouse.
“Mystery and power are the keys to your future, perhaps there is a power that will affect you and your endeavors, yet the source of this power will be unknown. The body of
The Dragon
itself seems to be twisted in an unusual manner, as though the power will appear in an unexpected form. Here,” she touched a coin, which this time had landed with the fan down, exposing the other side: the
Sheathed Sword
, “the Prime Kowan is the hidden threat. It cannot be known if the sword is sharp or dull, but it is always a danger and must never be ignored. The sheathed sword also indicates treachery—danger from an ally perhaps.”
“Can it not also indicate peace?” Shonto asked.
“It can, Sire. But in combination with
The Dragon
, this does not seem the most likely interpretation. Excuse me for saying so.”
Shonto shrugged. “It is you who speak from Deep Insight.”
“Perhaps, Sire, you should seclude yourself for the remainder of the year in our summer palace.” Nishima smiled. “I believe I deserve a reward for my work. Cha. Does anyone wish to join me?”
Cha was brewed again. Secretly, Lady Nishima wished to cast the fortune of their new Spiritual Advisor, but would never suggest this, being unsure of his opinion of such frivolity. Yet she was curious to know what the coins would tell about this quiet monk who was now a member of their inner Household. She was curious, not least of all because she felt there had been some truth in what she had told the others. Some of the things she had said she had felt certain of in some inexplicable way.
Do I grow superstitious? she wondered, but Shonto interrupted this train of thought.
“Nishi-sum, it seems unfair that we have received the benefit of your Deep Insight, and yet your own future remains unknown to you. This cannot be correct.” Shonto watched Komawara out of the corner of his eye but realized the young lord was too shy to take up the suggestion himself. Ah, well, Shonto thought, I have started this and now I will have to carry it through.
“I believe what Lord Shonto says is true, Lady Nishima,” Shuyun said in his quiet tones. “It is only proper that you should know what the future holds for you. I would be honored to cast the coins for you, though I cannot claim to have your skill with them.”
No one showed the surprise they felt at the monk’s offer. Komawara immediately regretted his hesitation to make this proposal himself, for Nishima obviously was immensely flattered.
“I could never refuse such a kind offer, Brother Shuyun.”
Collecting the coins in the canister, Lady Nishima passed it to Shuyun, but as she did so she was seized by a desire to fling them into the garden, as though what her future might hold was too frightening. But she did offer them and the monk shook the canister, producing what suddenly seemed an ominous rattle.
As deftly as Lady Nishima, Shuyun spread the coins across the table and as they came to rest Nishima could see that her fears had been groundless. They were only the coins of Kowan-sing, familiar, worn, in need of a polishing. What she had expected she did not know—something disturbing—coins she had never seen, bearing haunting images and an unwanted message.
She closed her eyes and felt relief wash through her. It is the curse of my blood, the name that follows me like a banner. May it never become the rallying point for the war that so many desire. She shuddered involuntarily. Opening her eyes she tried to smile.
“Are you well, Lady?” Shuyun asked, his eyes searching her own.
“Well?” she said. “How can I be well. Look at this pattern. Is it not
The Mountain
, the symbol for calculated waiting and enlightenment.” She laughed. “I have no patience whatsoever, it is my shame to admit. If I am to have enlightenment I would like it to arrive by sunset at the latest.” She laughed again, a delightful laugh.
Shuyun smiled. “But Lady Nishima, I may be wrong, but I believe this is
The Crane
, symbol of the aesthetic, of beauty and art.”
“Botahara has guided your hand, Brother.” Shonto said.
The monk nodded. “Your reputation as an artist has reached even the Oracle, Lady Nishima. yet here
The Crane
stands erect, waiting. Patient, as you must be patient, even though you claim not to be. It is this waiting that makes a great artist. And look, your Prime Kowan is also the open fan. As you have said, this is the symbol for temptation, but it may also indicate that the artist cannot hide behind the painted fan. The artist must show herself. Part of her inner beauty must appear in her work. Of course temptation should not be ruled out, perhaps temptation that is related to the aesthetic or to beauty, I cannot say.” He bowed toward her and again fell silent.
“I thank you, Brother Shuyun. It will be an honor to have your wisdom in the Shonto House.”
After more mead, Lord Komawara offered to recite a poem he had just composed. All assented readily for poetry was common, even expected, on such occasions. Komawara had hesitated only because of Lady Nishima’s reputation as a poetess.
“A crane waits, staring down at
green water.
Is it drawn to a reflection?
Does it watch for movement
In the still waters?”
There was silence for a moment, as was the custom, so that the poem could be considered.
“You have been hiding your talent as a poet from us, Lord Komawara,” Nishima said, and there was no doubting the sincerity of her words.
Komawara bowed. “Knowing of your skill, Lady Nishima, I thank you for your words, which are more than kind.”
“Nishi-sum, you must have a poem for us,” Shonto said, “You are never without inspiration.”
“You embarrass me with your flattery, Uncle. Please allow me a moment to consider.” She closed her eyes for only a few seconds before speaking.
“The crane stands,
White in the green pond.
Does it see the water’s
Stillness as illusion?
But wait,
Is it a crane or
The reflection of a passing cloud?”
“Ah, Lady Nishima, your fame is more than well deserved,” Komawara said. “I am honored that you should use my simple verse as the beginnings of such masterful display.”
Now Nishima bowed in thanks. “Your poem was not simple, Lord Komawara, and my verse merely tried to reflect its meaning, yeh? Look into its depths.”
A final cup of cha was brewed and the conversation returned to a more relaxed tone. Seh was again a topic of discussion and Lord Komawara was given an opportunity to exhibit his knowledge.
“Brother Shuyun,” Komawara addressed the monk, “I am not familiar with your name. Does it have significance in the teachings of Botahara?”
Shonto was glad the question had been asked, for he had been searching his memory of the Botahist texts trying to find it, assuming that, like most monks, Shuyun’s name had originated there.
“It is adapted from the tongue of the mountain people, Lord Komawara, so it is not recognized in Wa.
Shu-yung:
he who bears, or the bearer. It is a name for the humble carriers. A name which does not encourage pride.”
Huh, Shonto thought, unlike the name Shonto or Fanisan or Komawara for that matter. Why does such a one consent to serve among the prideful? Of course, the lord thought, he did not consent, he was ordered by his
superiors and obeyed without question. Brother Satake had done the same, once.
“Kowan-sing is also of the mountain tongue, is it not, Brother?” Nishima asked.
“It is from the archaic form, Lady Nishima, from a time when it is assumed the mountain dwellers lived in the plains and along the sea coast. Many place names remain from the ancient tongue;
yul-ho, yul-nan;
even Yankura derives from the same source,
Yan-khuro,
dwelling by the water. It was a beautiful tongue and only a few dialects remain among the mountain people to remind us of it.”
A bell rang the hour of the tiger and it seemed a signal to everyone in the summerhouse, a reminder that each of them had much to do and that, despite the illusion of timelessness created in the garden, the day wore on.
Lord Komawara took his leave, needing to prepare for his journey with Lord Shonto, though he found the presence of Lady Nishima made it difficult to think of anything other than her lovely eyes and graceful movements.
Lady Nishima’s ladies-in-waiting and her maid returned to accompany her through the gardens. She went in a rustle of silk, leaving only the scent of her perfume lingering in the summerhouse.
Shonto went to consult with Kamu on the preparations for the trip to Seh, leaving Shuyun unattended in the garden. For a few moments Shuyun sat listening to the sounds, appreciating the subtlety of the garden’s design. This will be my home, the monk thought, or one of them. He looked around him. What wealth! How easy to forget the life of the spirit here. Yes, how easy.
Rising, Shuyun made his way slowly down from the summerhouse, planning to return to the apartment Kamu had had prepared for him. Everywhere he looked, the details of the garden seemed to call for his attention, slowing his progress.
As he bent down by a low wall to admire a climbing vine, Shuyun stopped as though he had seen a spirit. He cocked his head, listening to a sound that seemed almost to blend with the sounds of the breeze, but it was there, unmistakably, a sound he had heard far too often to not be absolutely sure. He felt his heart begin to race and quickly controlled it. What is this? he wondered. The sound of movement, the swish of soft material and the hiss of controlled breathing. He knew it like the sound of his own voice.
I must see, he thought, and began to examine his surroundings looking
for observers. Shuyun realized he was taking a chance, but it could not be helped. What if he were seen?
He stepped back along the path a few paces and bent to examine the leaves of a chako bush. From this position he could see the windows of the main house. There was no movement, but it was difficult to be sure as they were all shaded.
He stepped carefully off the path behind a pine that hid him from view. Glancing around the garden again, afraid that Lord Shonto was having him observed, Shuyun reached up and tested the strength of the vines that climbed the walls. Hoping that, at least for that moment, he was not seen, Shuyun quickly clambered silently up the branches. He raised his head above the wall and his grip tightened on the vines. There, in a small enclosed garden, dressed in loose cotton robes, Lady Nishima moved through the measured dance of the Form—chi quan! As he watched, she reached the fifth closure and proceeded with confidence. It was almost beyond his ability to believe—
one of the uninitiated practicing the Form.
The key to the Secret Knowledge of the Botahist Orders.