The Initiate Brother Duology (58 page)

“Excuse our presumption, Lady Nishima,” the officer aboard said quietly, “we do not mean to disturb your contemplation,” He seemed to have no doubt of whom he addressed. “If you will allow me, I bring you a letter from General Katta and will certainly return at your convenience if you wish to make a reply.” He reached into his sleeve and removed a letter.

Nishima reached out automatically and took the letter. “I thank you,” she said and walking a few feet toward the quarter deck, she leaned against the gunnel, took a deep calming breath, and opened the letter she had been awaiting for one interminable day.

Jaku’s too large hand wandered down the page, but she found his failed attempt at elegance somewhat endearing.

Nishima found she was reaching out to steady herself on the rail. She realized that no matter what her head told her, she was going to ignore it in this matter. In fact, the decision was already made. She walked back to the gangway where the Imperial Guard boat waited.

“Where is General Katta?”

“The general is aboard an Imperial barge near the head of the fleet, my lady.”

“Will you take me to him?” she asked, her voice much smaller than she expected.

The officer did not know how to respond. He had not been told to expect this. “I—I can, my lady, I can, if that is what you wish.”

“It is.” Nishima turned to the Shonto guard who stood watch at the gangway. “Tell my companions I will return shortly.” She descended the ladder to the guards’ boat. This is the worst foolishness, she found herself thinking, though she allowed herself to be assisted aboard.

The fleet was long. Nishima did not count the boats—more boats than hours in the day, she was certain of that. Anticipation built within her. The kiss she had allowed Jaku came back to her now and it seemed like no kiss she had ever known: tender and full of promise.

This excitement was balanced by a fear. Fear that Jaku would not feel as she did, despite his words. Fear that he would not even be aboard his boat, and her impetuous act would lead to nothing but embarrassment. She was going, unannounced and without invitation, to the dwelling of a man she knew hardly at all.

Finally they came to the Imperial barge that was Jaku’s transportation to Seh. Nishima found the size and richness of this craft strangely reassuring, though she did not know why.

Waiting in the boat while her presence was announced, fear almost ate away her desire, but then Jaku arrived; his silhouette was unmistakable as he appeared at the rail—black uniform against the dark sky. He descended the stair with a surefootedness that was uncanny—catlike, as an entire Empire had noted. At least he did not merely have me brought to him, Nishima found herself thinking and was surprised that she felt gratitude.

“Lady Nishima,” Jaku said in his rich tones. “I am honored beyond my poor command of words to describe.” Jaku extended his hand to her. “Allow me to assist you.”

Nishima ignored all the expected formalities of the situation and did not apologize for intruding; she merely extended her hand and felt the strong grasp and the heat of Jaku’s hand as it enclosed her own.

*   *   *

The stern cabin of the Imperial barge was impressive: beams lacquered a deep red, large windows, now draped, looking out through the transom, celestial blue wall hangings, and cloud designs painted on the ceiling; all of this lit by hanging lanterns. The straw-matted floor had been covered with thick carpets from the land of the barbarians, a custom in Seh but only recently popular in the capital.

Jaku Katta and Lady Nishima sat facing each other on cushions spread upon the barbarian carpets. The rush of excitement at their meeting had given way to an awkward politeness.

“So often it seems futile,” Jaku was saying. “I have long been counseling the Son of Heaven to make our roads and waterways safe. I don’t know how often I have repeated this but there are so many counselors in the court, so many with the Emperor’s ear. There is no end to the foolishness that passes for wisdom. But I have finally been heard: the lesson of history has won out. The Throne can only be secured by assuring peace in the Empire, and that must start with securing the roads and waterways.”

Jaku paused for a second and caught the eye of Nishima. “And in doing this I will come to Seh…to a situation that is of…” he searched for the words, “military concern. If I may be of small service to Lord Shonto when I arrive, I would consider it an honor.” Jaku lowered his voice and Nishima moved closer to hear. “I do not know what transpires in Seh, my lady, but I fear it is not the barbarians that will test your liege. Because of my duties on the canal, I cannot be there for several weeks, but I hurry. This situation is of great concern to me, Lady Nishima.”

“But you have already done so much. If it weren’t for you, I don’t know what would have happened in our garden.”

Jaku shrugged modestly. “Who can say?” He paused and then leaned toward her, his voice now barely a whisper. “I would not say this to anyone else, Nishima-sum, but I have begun to have doubts. I do not know what my Emperor intends nor how often I have been the instrument in the…Court’s intrigues. I have been as loyal as a son and now I am uncertain of my loyalties. Not everyone is a man such as your father, renowned for constancy.”

Nishima found herself whispering also, sharing secrets like a lover. “You have served more than the Emperor, Katta-sum, even as you serve the Empire and its citizens on the canal. You cannot bear responsibility for the actions of your liege: duty does not require that. Loyalty…is a matter of the heart.”

Jaku reached out and caressed Nishima’s cheek and a visible shudder of pleasure trilled through her. “Your words bring me comfort, Nishi-sum, they are Shonto-wise.” Jaku leaned forward and kissed Nishima, a lingering kiss of great tenderness. Nishima found herself pushing into his arms and returning his kiss with a need that surprised her. Strong arms pulled her closer. Fingers brushed her breast through the folds of her robes.

Jaku whispered in her ear. “I do not know all of the details of what occurred in Denji Gorge. So many arrangements were made after I had initiated contact with the Hajiwara. If I had only known…thank the gods that Lord Shonto is the general he is and that no harm was done.”

His mouth covered hers before she could respond. And suddenly Nishima was alarmed. What was he saying? What of Denji Gorge?

Jaku lowered her slowly to the cushions. His hands moved along her sash and Nishima felt the press of coins strung around her waist.

“No,” Nishima managed weakly as Jaku began to pull at the knot. “No.” More firmly this time, but Jaku did not seem to hear. She tried to push him away a little. “Katta-sum—what is this you…?” He kissed her as though this would stop her questions.

Nishima felt panic grip her. What of my uncle? What is it that this man feels he must deny? Suddenly, Jaku’s words seemed false to her.

Hands began to unwind her sash. She pushed against him, but he was so large he did not even seem aware. This must not happen. He is false. The coins—they were carried by Imperial Guards. How could their commander not know?

Grabbing the hand that unwound her sash, Nishima tried to hold it to her. She had allowed this to start. Had initiated it of her own volition. How was she to expect him to respond? But it could not be.

The trained strength of the kick boxer would not be denied, and Jaku began again to remove the length of brocade that held her robes and hid the silk ribbon around her waist. A hand touched the skin beneath her robes and Nishima felt a weakness wash through her. Warm fingers caressing her breast. He saved my uncle’s life, Nishima found herself thinking, though why the thought surfaced amid the flood of pleasure she did not know.

Jaku’s hand slid from her breast toward her waist, and Nishima’s will returned in a rush.

“No!”

Jaku was flung back and found himself in an awkward heap at the base of a pillar.

Nishima stood before him, gathering her robes and sash into a semblance of order.

“Tell me what occurred at Denji Gorge,” Nishima said evenly.

Jaku looked as confused as any cornered animal. “You are in league with the Brothers.”

“I am in league with the Shonto, make no mistake. Has my uncle come to harm?”

“Lord Shonto…” He trailed off as though dazed. “Lord Shonto is, no doubt, in Seh, Nishima-sum, in Seh and unharmed. The Hajiwara tried to trap him in the gorge. I do not know what alliance planned this, though I would look to the court. I assure you Lady Nishima, I did nothing beyond establish contact with the Hajiwara, and that I did not do in person but left to my brother.” Jaku moved to a more dignified position but did not rise.

“How is it you know the fighting skills of the Botahist monks?”

“I do not know what you mean, General,” Nishima said. She had returned her clothing to order, but a flush remained on her face and neck. “If you have a boat that can return me to my own, I will impose upon you no further.”

“Nishima-sum…I know you doubt me, but I am more of an ally than you realize. There is much I do not know that I may yet discover, to the benefit of the Shonto. I am a man of honor, and will only serve those who are the same.”

Nishima crossed to the door of the cabin. “I must have time to think, Katta-sum,” she said softly. “There is much going on below the surface, in the Empire and in my heart as well. I have treated you unfairly and for this I apologize; I cannot make decisions according to my desires. Lord Shonto saved my mother and myself—no, do not deny the Emperor’s intentions, you know that it is true. I could be a threat to the Throne, if that were my desire. Your Emperor will never forgive that.

“I have many duties, too many duties. Please, Katta-sum, do not cause me more confusion.” She slid the screen aside herself but paused before leaving. “Come to Seh. We will speak there—in Seh.”

T
HE PONIES WERE surefooted and strong, bred for hardiness and life on the northern steppe. As they picked their way down a narrow trail in failing light, hooves drumming up the long ravine, they inspired their riders with the utmost confidence.

Despite being wrapped in thick cloaks it was easily seen that these men wore the robes of Botahist monks—an Initiate and a Neophyte—out of place in this arid landscape.

The trail leveled and broadened somewhat as they found the bottom of the ravine. Scrub brush and the occasional stunted tree appeared here and there as though scattered down the draw by the relentless wind of the high steppe.

They rode on in silence until a large rock offered some shelter and here they dismounted. Komawara immediately began tending to the horses, the two mounts they rode and a third pony that acted as a pack animal carrying a burden that was largely water. Shuyun prepared a cold meal. It was a routine that they had fallen into in the six days they had been traveling north beyond the border of Seh and neither man seemed inclined to change it.

The northwest wind sounded like an endless breath from the lungs of a dying man, neither a moan nor a whistle but blending something of each. It was a voice that spoke of a long pain. The steppe was slowly being consumed by the desert, though no one knew why, but for a hundred years the men of Seh had been aware that the high steppe was disappearing. And the wind registered a desperate agony.

Whirling around their sheltering rock the wind picked up dust and spun it into the air, into the clothes, into the pores. Rubbing reddened eyes, Komawara came over to where Shuyun crouched.

“You must use the compress on your eyes again this night, Brother.”

“I do not want to be blind in this place. It seems the worst possible course. We have no idea what may appear in the night.”

“My teachers taught that in the darkness one uses one’s hearing, one’s sense of smell. Feel the vibration of movement—if you search the darkness with your eyes you will not focus on what is heard, what is sensed. We learned this lesson with cloth bound over our eyes. You can learn it with compresses over yours. You cannot continue with your eyes as they are. If we meet the tribal people, they will know. A Brother who is ill is not Botahist. I will prepare the compresses; let me worry about what hides in the darkness.”

Komawara nodded and, as he did so, absently rubbed his recently tonsured scalp. A look from his companion and he withdrew his hand with an embarrassed smile. He was Shuyun’s student in this endeavor: no longer a peer of the Empire of Wa but a Botahist Neophyte—not even that. Shuyun taught him some simple breathing exercises and meditations as well as the outward habits of the monks. To be truly believable, the monk felt Komawara should understand some of the basis of the Brothers’ manner and had explained several principles of the training given to young monks.

At one point, as a demonstration of focus, Shuyun and Komawara had “pushed hands”—palm to palm trying to find resistance in Shuyun’s movement, but whenever Komawara pushed, Shuyun’s hands gave way though they never broke contact. It was, as Shuyun said, like pushing water or air, there was nothing to offer any purchase. Shuyun had twice put Komawara on his back and, the young lord realized, could have done it at any time but even so Komawara did not feel it was pride in his skill that led Shuyun to do this. The monk merely wanted Komawara to know what error he made by resisting.