The Initiate Brother Duology (26 page)

“The sampan is here, lord.”

He walked, on newly caulked planks, across the deck to the waiting boat. Crewman gathered amidships to raise the single sail, for a fair wind had come up aft of the beam and the oarsmen would get a rest. Two sailors lowered a ladder over the side and held it in place for him. Their muscled torsos glistened from the labor of rowing and Komawara had no doubt that they would take his weight with ease.

A small boat, manned by Shonto House Guards, lay alongside the barge and Komawara clambered down to it with characteristic agility. The Shonto guards and the crewmen who bowed as he passed, knew him, though he was not aware of it—
the son of the swordsman,
they thought as he passed. Yet he appeared young to all of them, with that wiriness and length of limb one expected in a colt. But he is the son of the father, the guards thought. What a man to have had as swordmaster! And then there were the duels. Young Komawara was known for the duels he had won—several already—and it was said he feared no one.

Oblivious to all this, Komawara took his place in the boat feeling somewhat uncomfortable. The role of Shonto ally was disconcerting to him. His awe of Shonto Motoru was too great for him to see himself as in any way necessary to the Shonto purpose. Somehow it all seemed like a mistake that would soon be discovered. Perhaps this thought, which he realized was entirely without honor, was what made him apprehensive about meeting with Shonto.

Sculling up through the line of boats, the guards came skillfully alongside a large, ornate barge. Komawara stepped out onto the boarding platform and the guards there bowed to him with respect. It was strange the way the soldiers could do that, Komawara thought. A person of rank would receive a bow that was flawlessly polite, but a person of equal rank who was also a fighter would receive a bow that unquestionably conveyed more respect, yet Komawara could not say how it differed. He only knew that it was so.

Mounting the stairs to the main deck Komawara began to loosen the strings that held his scabbard in his sash, but as he reached the deck he met Shonto’s steward Kamu, and the old man gestured to Komawara’s sword.

“My lord asks that you wear your sword, Lord Komawara,” he said bowing formally.

Komawara bowed equally in return. “I wear it always for his protection, Kamu-sum.”

Kamu’s face registered his approval. “Lord Shonto asks that you join him on the quarter deck, Sire.”

Komawara nodded and followed the steward to the barge’s stern where he could see Shonto sitting under a silk awning. The lord bent over a low table, brush in hand, and his secretary knelt in attendance to his right. The rattle of armor as guards bowed to Komawara caused Shonto to look up and his face creased into a smile of warmth.

“Lord Komawara, I am honored that you join me.”

Bowing with formality, the two lords made the polite inquiries their strict etiquette required. Cha was served and the lords amused themselves by watching children on the barge behind as they threw scraps to the crying gulls. Only the occasional offering would land in the water, so quick of wing were the small, river birds.

The mid-morning sun was warm, casting a soft, autumn light over the lush countryside. Leaves drifted south in procession on flowing waters, as the flotilla made its way slowly north. A swift Imperial messenger swept by, the powerful oarsmen sending it shooting ahead with each stroke of their long, curved blades.

Shonto watched the messenger glide by. They report our progress to the Emperor, he thought, knowing that the farther from the capital he traveled, the closer he came to the Emperor’s purpose.

“Will fourteen days see us in Seh, Lord Komawara?”

“If the winds remain fair, Sire. But we must expect at least some delay from the Butto-Hajiwara feud.”

Shonto nodded. “Delay, yes,” and he gestured to a guard who placed a tightly rolled scroll on the table before them. Shonto examined the seal carefully before breaking it and then spread the thick paper across the table. It was a detailed map of the area disputed by the warring families. All of the fortifications were drawn in, as well as the troop placements and the strengths of each garrison.

“If it is not an imposition, Lord Komawara, I would ask you to look at this map and verify its details to the best of your ability. Please, do not hurry.”

Komawara bent over the map, examining each placement, each notation. He searched his memory and asked for the help of Botahara. Finally he raised his eyes from his task. “It seems to be correct in every detail, Lord Shonto.”

Shonto nodded, “It was made up from the combined information of several spies.” He rolled the map again and it was taken by a guard. “The words of spies should never stand without verification.”

Lunch was served and this brought to Komawara’s mind thoughts of Lady Nishima gracefully serving cha. The conversation strayed through an array of subjects before settling on the lords of Seh and how those of note would react to Shonto’s arrival. It was a topic that Shonto and his advisors had discussed almost endlessly, but they knew that it was all speculation—nothing was sure.

Aware of the secretary who knelt beyond the awning, obviously waiting, Lord Komawara excused himself as soon as he could politely do so.

Shonto watched him go, watched the way the young lord carried himself. He will be tested severely within the year, Shonto thought, though he did not know where the thought came from.

From his sleeve pocket Shonto removed a small scroll that had come that morning, smuggled through the disputed area by a Shonto soldier disguised as a fish buyer. He unrolled it and again read the strong hand of his son. The words themselves were innocent enough. It was the message within, the message in one of the Shonto ciphers, that concerned the lord. There were two sentences that begged his attention again: “The Butto-Hajiwara feud is stable, the lines of battle have not changed in several months—I do not anticipate any problem there,” and, “The barbarian problem is, as you expected, comparatively minor and the reports you received about large buildups on the border are certainly false.”

Shonto read the characters again: “…the lines of battle have not changed in several months…” The feud was stable. So what do they wait for? Shonto wondered. Do they wait for the other to make a mistake or is it something else altogether? Do they wait for Shonto? And if so is it the Butto or the Hajiwara, or both, that I must fear? “I do not anticipate any problem there.” Which, in cipher, meant BEWARE.

He misses very little, this son of mine, but he does not know the real danger or he would have written of it.

And the barbarians, that situation was not as it seemed either. Shonto had received no reports about a buildup of barbarian fighters along the border and he knew his son was aware of this. So Komawara had been right, Shonto had sensed it immediately; there was more to the raids in Seh than the northern lords were willing to see.

Shonto rolled the scroll and put it back in his sleeve. May Botahara smile down upon me for I sail toward the abyss. Yet had not Hakata said: “Only from the abyss can one turn and see the world as it truly is.” Then soon I shall see.

From his son, Shonto’s thoughts turned to Lady Nishima, alone in the capital. If it is my enemies’ hope to distract me, they could not have chosen a more effective ploy, he reasoned. Lady Okara is the key to Nishima’s safety—if she will agree to my plans. I must make no mistake in monitoring the situation in the capital. He thought of the distance to Seh. Fourteen days, though the Imperial messengers covered the distance in only seven.

Thus occupied, Shonto sat on the quarter deck of the Imperial Governor’s barge and, to anyone watching, it would have seemed that he was enjoying the passing countryside and attending to the correspondence his position required.

It did not appear so to Shuyun, who emerged from a hatch on the foredeck and stood for a moment looking at his liege-lord. Shuyun was aware of the lord’s concerns, both from his discussion with Brother Hutto, and from what he was able to learn from Tanaka and Shonto’s steward, Kamu.

Shuyun had spent his short time in the Shonto household meeting as many of Shonto’s staff as was possible. It was as his teachers had said—the Shonto had an unerring sense of a person’s abilities. This seemed to be coupled with insight into where a person’s talents could best be employed and an ability to inspire great loyalty.

If there was to be criticism of Shonto’s staff, it would be that many of them were older, with the inherent weaknesses that age brought. Shuyun wondered if this was just the “prejudice of the young” his teachers had warned him against. He must consider this in his meditations.

To the degree that he had been able, Shuyun had talked and listened to Shonto’s guards and soldiers and, more importantly he had watched them, gauging their attitudes by the thousand minute actions which spoke to his Botahist training. Everything he saw told him they had utter faith in their lord, but even so, all of them went to Seh with misgivings.

Shuyun turned his gaze from Lord Shonto to the canal bank. A tow path ran along the shore, though it was only used in the spring floods when the river craft could not make way against the strong currents. Several Botahist neophytes from a nearby monastery bowed low to the passing lord. In the fields behind, as far as the eye could see, peasants stopped their work and bent low until the progress passed. We minister to them also, Shuyun found himself thinking, but still the obeisance caused in him a feeling of discomfort. This is not the world of the spirit, he told himself, it is my task to dwell here while keeping the goal of the spirit at the center of my being.

Yet, as he said this, a vision of Lady Nishima, laughing in the summerhouse, came to him unbidden, and he could not easily push it from his mind.

L
ADY NISHIMA LOOKED again into the mirror of polished bronze and felt nothing but dissatisfaction with the image she saw. “I am plain,” she said in a whisper. “I am without talent. Lady Okara wastes her time with me. Oh, if only the Emperor had not forced me to take his patronage! Lady Okara would not be burdened with someone so undeserving of her attention, and I would be in Seh, away from the Emperor and his weakling sons.
Close to my uncle, who may need my assistance.” She worried about Lord Shonto, gone now three days. He is strong and wise, she told herself for the thousandth time, I can help him by avoiding any further traps the Emperor may lay.

The water clock in the courtyard rang the fifth hour and she knew it was time for her to leave. A boat waited. The Guard Captain himself had insisted upon accompanying her with a large escort, but she had refused, knowing this would only draw attention to her going to the Lady Okara—only draw attention to her shame, for that is what she felt. Shame that she was being forced on so great a painter, and only to fulfill the Emperor’s hidden design. She felt anger and frustration boil up in her. And worse—she felt trapped.

Forcing an outward calm over her emotions, Nishima went out into the hall and down the wide stairs into the main courtyard. Rohku Saicha, Captain of the Shonto House Guard and the man charged with her safety, met her as she crossed the tiled enclosure.

“Your sampan awaits you, Lady Nishima,” he said bowing. “I hope you have reconsidered. I do have orders from your father to…”

“I will take the responsibility, Captain Rohku, please be at your ease,” she said, nodding but not stopping.

He fell into step beside her. “All well and good, my lady, but I’m not sure my lord would accept that if something were to happen.”

“Shall I put it in writing, then?”

“It isn’t that, Lady Nishima. I am concerned about your safety.”

“And what do you foresee happening to me in the capital in broad daylight?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “I do not know, Lady Nishima.”

“You have assigned guards, that will be adequate. The Shonto must not go about as though the wrath of the gods were about to fall upon them. Where is the dignity in that?”

“I understand your point, Lady Nishima…” he meant to say more but they had reached the stairs to the small dock the Shonto family used and she had given him her hand to assist her in boarding the sampan.

She looked back at him from her seat. “You have done all that is required, Saicha-sum,” she said, chiding him, “I will return by late afternoon or send a message if I am detained. Do not be concerned.” She motioned to the boatmen and they pushed off—three sampans, two as escort and Lady Nishima’s personal craft.