The Initiate Brother Duology (57 page)

BOOK: The Initiate Brother Duology
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“And the rest of the inner defenses?”

“Much the same, Lord Shonto, though in places they are at least functional—a few places.”

Shonto turned now to the great expanse of the northern horizon. He could not even begin to see the border from this spot, but he could feel it—an imaginary line drawn across a section of a continent and disputed for as long as history had been recorded. We drove the tribes into the desert, Shonto thought, it was their land once…once.

“We could do much by spring, if the Lords of Seh were committed to this.”

“It would take until spring to gain enough support to even begin such a project, Sire,” Komawara said with some bitterness.

“Huh. And we cannot prove that it is necessary, not even to ourselves.” Shonto gestured to the clouds that swept low across the northern horizon. “It is all hidden from us, Lord Komawara. We know nothing. Yet something does not seem right. You have felt that. And I have questions that I cannot answer. We need a spy among the barbarians. Is there none that gold would buy us?”

Komawara seemed surprised by Shonto’s words. “I had almost forgotten, Sire.” The young lord reached into a pouch at his waist and what he removed jingled like the coins of Koan-sing, reminding Shonto again of his daughter. May Botahara protect her, he found himself thinking.

“These were found strung on a cord on the barbarian’s sash.” He held out his hand and indeed it did hold coins, but they were coins of
gold!

Shonto’s eyes betrayed his surprise. “He must have been a chief of some stature!”

“I agree, but there was nothing else about him that would indicate that this was so. His companions abandoned him without any attempt of rescue. Nor did he seem to lead the raid. Only this gold would indicate he was anything other than a typical barbarian warrior. Yet this is a great deal of gold—a fortune to a barbarian. I—I do not understand.”

Shonto took a few coins from Komawara and examined them closely in the sunlight. “This is most curious. They are very finely minted. I have seen the ‘coins’ the barbarians use and they bear no resemblance to these. Huh. Look at this.” The lord turned one coin over in his hand. It was like the others
in that it was square and had a uniform hole in its center, but this one bore the design of a dragon. Not the Imperial Dragon with its five claws and its distinctive mane, but a strange, large-headed, long-tailed beast—though a dragon nonetheless.

He handed it to Shuyun.

The monk examined it carefully and then rubbed it slowly between his fingers. “This design was etched into the metal after the coin was struck. You can feel the edges of the lines: they are raised.” He handed it to Komawara, who also rubbed it between his fingers.

“I cannot tell, Shuyun-sum, but I do not doubt you.”

“These coins,” Shonto went on, “would they be found in Seh?”

“They are certainly not Imperial coinage and if they were struck in Seh, or anywhere else for that matter, I cannot think they would be so finely made.”

“And the barbarians have no history of working gold?”

“They have no gold to work, Sire.”

“Most odd.” Shonto turned back to the view north. “Another question without an answer. Did pirates break their vessel upon the northern coast? The coins could come from across the sea.” The lord shaded his eyes and searched the horizon. “Somehow I cannot think that it is that simple. Everything is complex, hidden.” His voice trailed off.

Komawara hesitated and then spoke. “I do not think we could buy a barbarian spy, but I believe there is a way that we may go into the desert—at least some distance….”

Shonto turned away from his examination of the horizon and it was as though he returned to the present from some far off time. “I would hear this.”

Komawara gathered his thoughts. “None may travel beyond our border without fear of capture. Although the wastes are vast, all have need of water and the barbarians control the springs. In the past, the men of Seh chased the tribes deep into the desert and, in doing so, charted all the springs between here and the deep desert. Of the people of Wa only those with the power to heal are welcome among the barbarians.” Komawara rushed on, “I do not suggest a Brother should go as a spy but, with the assistance of Shuyun-sum, I could pass into the wastes as a Brother of the Faith.” He turned to the monk. “I realize your faith may not allow you to assist in such an endeavor, Brother. Please excuse my presumption.”

Shonto spoke before Shuyun could reply. “But how far into the wastes could you go? I understand that even the Brothers are only welcome to cross the border; they do not travel freely.”

Komawara looked slightly embarrassed at having made this suggestion without consulting Shuyun first. It showed terrible manners and he knew it. “It is true, Sire. The monks do not penetrate deep into the tribal lands, but it is possible that a monk discovered far north of Seh’s border would not be treated too harshly. Brothers have been lost in the wastes before and the barbarians have returned them to Seh’s border. I would like to try, Sire, even if I may not have Shuyun-sum’s help.”

Shonto turned back to the north again. “It is an idea worthy of consideration.” He faced his companions again. “Shuyun, what do you say to this?”

If he was offended by the idea of someone impersonating a Botahist monk, he did not allow it to show. “It is not possible,” he said quietly, “it is the healing power that the barbarians respect. They have superstitions connected to the Brotherhood, it is true, but it is our ability to heal that makes us welcome among the tribes. They would not treat an imposter well; especially an imposter who came seeking to know their strength. It is a brave plan, but I fear, Lord Komawara, you would be throwing your life away for no gain, excuse me for saying so.”

Shonto considered this for a moment. “I believe Shuyun-sum is correct, Lord Komawara. This is a brave plan, but it would be seen too quickly that you do not have the power to heal. You would fail, certainly. Our need to know what transpires beyond our border is great, but we are not so desperate that we will throw lives away needlessly.”

Silence followed. Shonto saw General Hojo walking up the hill toward them. It is finished, Shonto thought, may Botahara have mercy on their souls.

Shuyun’s quiet tones brought him back to the moment.

“I could go with Lord Komawara, Lord Governor. I can heal.”

Shonto was stunned into silence for a second. “It is out of the question. You are a member of my personal staff. I would no more send you into the desert than I would send Lady Nishima. You have risked your life once already, for which I will always be grateful, but that was only at our greatest need; this can never happen again. I respect you for making such an offer, but it is not possible.”

Shuyun and Komawara exchanged a look as Shonto turned back toward the north.

In the late afternoon light, the coins in Shonto’s hands took on a richness of hue that did not seem real. He rubbed them between his fingers and felt the embossed dragon form.

“Power and mystery,” he heard Nishima whisper.

Thirty-two

L
ORD AGATUA HAD never before been kept waiting in the Shonto house. Although he and Motoru-sum did not spend the hours together that they had years ago, there was still a lasting bond, a friendship strong enough that Shonto would choose him to deliver a message to Lady Nishima. He had no idea what the message contained or why it had to be delivered so circuitously, but Lord Agatua was the kind of friend who would never question those close to him: Motoru-sum felt the precautions were necessary so that must be true.

But he was kept waiting. Lady Nishima was ill, he had been informed, and when he had made a fuss the servants had rushed off to fine someone of authority. That had been some time ago. He was not a man who waited well.

A screen was pushed aside and Lady Kento whisked into the room. Agatua’s face brightened perceptibly.

“Lady Kento, at last, a person of reason.” He bowed and Lady Kento did the same.

“I apologize, Lord Agatua, it is unforgivable that you were kept waiting. Please, accept my apologies.” She bowed again.

Lord Agatua shrugged. “These things occur, but it is past and forgotten. Please take me to Lady Nishima, I have a message of the utmost urgency.”

Lady Kento bowed again quickly. “I will take it to her personally, Lord Agatua, be assured.”

“Lady Kento, I have just finished explaining to a servant that I cannot allow that. The message is from Lord Shonto and he expressly instructed that
I should deliver it into the hands of Lady Nishima and no other. I will not break trust with your liege-lord by doing other than he has asked. We have no way of knowing how important this message is. I will do nothing but deliver it into the lady’s hand, let me assure you.”

The small woman stood her ground. “It is not possible, Lord Agatua. My lady is very ill, and her physician will not allow her to be disturbed. I’m very sorry, but there is nothing I can do.”

Lord Agatua almost exploded with frustration, but when he spoke his voice was even and reasonable. “Lady Kento, Lady Nishima’s own life may be in danger—we do not know. It would be the greatest folly to allow the instructions of a physician to overrule the orders of your liege-lord. Please, take me to your mistress at once.”

Lady Kento did not move. She shook her head again. “I apologize again, but what you ask is impossible.”

Lord Agatua stepped past Kento and headed for the door that led to the inner house.

“Guards have been ordered to detain you if you go further, Lord Agatua.” Kento said quietly.

He turned toward her. “This is madness!” But he knew, somehow, that the woman was in earnest. “When will I be able to see Lady Nishima?”

Kento shrugged. “It is impossible to say—perhaps three days?”

Shaking his head Lord Agatua turned to leave, but as he reached the door he stopped. “You will have no opportunities to make such serious errors as a street sweeper.” He left.

Kento stood staring at the door. It had been only a few days and already it was difficult to maintain the ruse that Nishima was in the house. First General Katta had tried to see her, though that had been not so difficult, and now this. Kento worried about the message from Lord Shonto. Certainly, it must be important, but there was no way to intercept Lady Nishima now, at least not without bringing a great deal of attention to her. She would be in Seh before a message, sent by any conventional means, would catch her. There was nothing to be done—except, perhaps, begin preparation for her new position. She believed the brooms were kept near the kitchen.

Thirty-three

L
ADY NISHIMA HAD never known a day so long. It had been only the previous evening that she had received the poem from Jaku Katta, and since then time had slowed as it never had when she practiced chi ten with Brother Satake.

Nothing—no word—and she could not bring herself to contact him: at least she retained that degree of dignity.

Watched from the deck of her river boat, the shore passed as it had throughout the first days of her journey, but now the eye of the poetess regarded it differently.

Calypta leaves drift toward winter,

Borne on winds

In the reflected surface

Of the autumn sky.

Trees line ancient canal banks,

And weep for the passing procession

Branches as barren as my heart.

Why do you not speak my name?

The Ladies Okara and Kitsura were resting and Nishima had come out on deck in the last light to be “alone with her thoughts.” Alone with her desire, she admitted to herself.

Does he not want to see me as I wish to see him? It was the question that destroyed her tranquillity. I begin to feel like a fool, Nishima thought and resolved to return below to her cabin and her writing when a boat, sculled by two Imperial Guards, appeared under the bow. Nishima felt her pulse jump, but at the same time she felt more a fool to be standing at the rail as though awaiting word. It was too late to go below, so she turned her attention to the fading shoreline and feigned not to notice the boat and its occupants until it was before her.

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