The Initiate Brother Duology (10 page)

In constant fear of being deposed, the Emperor had devised a number of methods to keep the aristocracy resident in the capital where the Imperial troops were supreme. By dividing the year into four “Social Seasons” the ruler could then “invite” the lords he most feared to attend whichever seasons he chose, being careful to separate any potential alliances by keeping some members isolated in the provinces. Refusing the Emperor’s invitation was an open act of treason, and staying in the capital when your presence had not been requested led to immediate suspicion on the part of the Emperor’s guard.

To further his control, Akantsu II had disallowed the use of any harbor but Yankura, the Floating City, for the importation of trade goods and made death the penalty for smuggling. All trade could then be easily taxed by the Imperial customs officials as well as monitored by the ever present Imperial Guard. This way, other harbors—traditionally under the control of a single powerful lord—could not be used as an excuse to create large armed forces for “security” reasons. The Emperor was thorough in his bid to hold all the reins of power.

Despite his lavish parties and his love of the social life, Akantsu II remained an enigma, even to those closest to him. His unpredictability did not win him friends, as he was known to ignore acts of loyalty as often as he rewarded them. The physical life was what drew him—hunting, hawking, dance. He sponsored kick boxing tournaments often and was known to be a fine swordsman and without fear. He had once dispatched an assassin, unaided, and then personally beheaded all the guards on duty for their failure to protect him. Like his father, Akantsu II was a formidable man.

As Lord Shonto and Lady Nishima descended the stairs, they could see the Emperor seated on a cushion, talking with his guests. His kimono was Imperial crimson belted with a gold sash, and he held the sword of his office across his lap in a jeweled scabbard. The Empress was conspicuously absent,
and though she was said to be ill it was well known that she was out of favor. A young and exquisitely beautiful Sonsa dancer was the Emperor’s current mistress—that is, she was preferred among a half-dozen.

“There is your cousin, Kitsu-sum,” Lord Shonto said as they crossed the garden.

“Oh, good. I must talk with her.”

“She is your competition for the Emperor’s sons, I think.”

“Thank you for pointing that out, Sire.”

“That is, unless I marry her first. She’s not very pretty, but I have great affection for her.”

“She’s the most beautiful woman either of us know, and you dote on her.” Nishima chided.

“Huh! I’m far too old to indulge such weaknesses.”

The Lady Kitsura Omawara saw them coming across the garden and favored them with her famous smile. Numerous hearts began to flutter. She walked toward her cousin and Shonto. Her kimono, a print of butterflies in flight, hung perfectly, the long sleeves swaying as she moved. Silver combs with jade inlay held up her dark hair and her eyes were highlighted by the most subtle use of makeup. She was a woman used to the sound of flattery.

“Kitsura-sum, you are the reincarnation of all the Empire’s great beauties!” Nishima said, taking her cousin’s hands.

“Lord Shonto,” Kitsura said, bowing. “Cousin, how lovely you look. And, Lord Shonto, I believe you grow younger by the day.”

Shonto bowed lower than his position required. “I was just telling Nishima-sum that your kimono is ill-fitting, you’re skinny for your age and you walk like a boy, but because I am so fond of you, I will offer to take you from your father’s house.”

Both women laughed. Kitsura bowed deeply. “You do me too much honor, Sire. I think you try to turn my head with flattery. Truly you are your father’s son. But I am too naive and inexperienced for a man like you. I would not allow my father to take advantage of your kind nature.”

“It is a small thing. My house is full of stray cats already. Look at Nishi-sum. Ungrateful daughter that she is, I have affection for her all the same. Charity toward the undeserving must be a weakness of mine.”

“You see what I must live with, Kitsura-sum? I think the Emperor would reward us if we pushed his new governor into the Seahorse Pond. Otherwise
he will bankrupt the province of Seh by filling the Governor’s Palace with ‘stray cats.’”

“We will have to ask the Emperor’s permission in this matter.” She turned to look at the dais, but then became more solemn. “I think the Emperor will request that you play for his guests, Nishi-sum. I have already been asked, and could not refuse. I hope you won’t be angry, but I suggested you might consider a duet with me?”

“Oh, no! I have not practiced. What will we play?”

“Play the ‘Song of the Enchanted Gardener’” Lord Shonto offered.

“You and your
Enchanted Gardener
, Uncle. Don’t you ever tire of hearing it?”

“Can one tire of perfection?”

Nishima rolled her eyes. “Now we will receive a lecture in the philosophy of aesthetics. Run, Kitsura-sum, I will try to hold him!”

They laughed as they crossed the garden toward the receiving line. A gong sounded, announcing the hour of the cat. It was near dusk and servants began lighting colored lanterns.

Lord Shonto and Lady Nishima stopped several times to greet guests and exchange news.

At one point Nishima touched her uncle’s arm and whispered to him, “There is Lady Okara, the painter.”

The woman stood among a throng who seemed to be her personal court. It was obvious that they hung on her every word.

“She is almost never seen at social gatherings. I must try to work up my nerve to meet her.”

“I will introduce you, Nishima-sum, she is an old friend.”

“Don’t tease me, Uncle, this is a serious matter. She is the most accomplished painter of the century! I have admired her work for years.”

“I do not tease. Come, flutter your eyelashes at the Emperor and then I will introduce you to your goddess.”

The line moved along very slowly, the guests trying to hold the Emperor’s attention as long as they could, thus signifying to what degree they had the ruler’s favor. In their turn, they knelt before the dais on a grass mat and touched their heads to the ground. The Emperor never rose or bowed to his subjects but nodded slightly to recognize their presence. Lord Shonto and Lady Nishima were announced by an aide and bowed low, remaining in the kneeling position.

“Lord Shonto, Lady Nishima, I am honored that you have come.”

“The honor, Sire, is ours entirely,” Lord Shonto answered for both of them, as his position required.

The Emperor turned his attention to Nishima as if there was a matter of great importance that demanded immediate attention. “Lady Nishima, I wish to ask you a great favor.”

“Name it, Sire, and I shall comply.”

“We have already asked Lady Kitsura if she would play for our guests and she has honored me by agreeing. Would you accompany her?”

“I am hardly a musician of sufficient skill to perform for such an esteemed audience, but as the Emperor asks, it would be my honor to do so.

“I must apologize though, Sire, for I failed to anticipate this request and did not bring an instrument.”

“One shall be found for you, then, one that I’m sure will be to your liking. What will you play, Lady?”

“Certainly we would allow the Emperor to make that decision if the selection is within our skills.”

“Wonderful! Do you know the ‘Song of the Enchanted Gardener’?”

“Yes, Sire. A lovely melody and a fine choice.”

“Good, good!” He broke into a toothy grin which disappeared just as quickly.

Turning to Lord Shonto, the Emperor changed his tone of address and immediately had the attention of all those around him.

“Lord Shonto Motoru, Imperial Governor of the Province of Seh, as I have invested you, when do you leave to protect our northern border?”

“Within the week, Sire. My household and my forces prepare.”

“You are efficient as well as courageous. How long will it take to teach the barbarian rabble proper respect for the Emperor of Wa?”

“I have sent my son ahead to assess the situation and have not yet received his report but, even so, I hope the campaign will be short.”

“The barbarians are poor students, but I send them my best teacher. A year, then?”

“A year should be adequate. Lessons learned too quickly are most easily forgotten.”

Rising to his full sitting height, the Emperor said, “Do you hear? The new Governor of Seh will cleanse our northern border of the barbarians in one
year!” He bowed slightly to Shonto and said, his voice surprisingly cold, “I salute you, Lord Shonto.”

The assembled guests followed the Emperor’s example and also bowed to the kneeling lord. The gathering became unnaturally quiet, and Lord Shonto felt a sudden chill.

Nishima became aware that she was being stared at and noticed out of the corner of her eye that Prince Wakaro, the Emperor’s middle son, was kneeling at one side of the dais. She was careful not to meet his eyes.

The Emperor raised his hand to an aide. He did not bother to look at him, and the man hurried forward carrying a silken pillow across which lay a sword in a very old scabbard. The Emperor took the weapon, unsheathing it and examining it with an expert’s care. Shonto felt the skin of his scalp tighten.

“Do you know this blade, Lord Shonto?”

“No, Sire,” Shonto said, his voice perfectly calm. Conversation flared suddenly, then quieted at the sight of the weapon.

Looking up from the sword, apparently satisfied, the Son of Heaven smiled, but his eyes were hard. “This sword belonged to the famous ancestor for whom you were named, Lord Shonto Motoru, who gave it as a gift to the Emperor Jirri II, his close friend. The Emperor and Shonto Motoru later fought and conquered the northern barbarians in the time of their greatest power, as you no doubt know. Sadly, Lord Shonto was killed by an arrow in the final battle.” The Emperor tested the sword’s edge with his thumbnail. “This is a gift to you, Lord Governor.” The Emperor’s expression was unreadable.

The aide came forward again, taking the sword from his master and placing it on the mat before Shonto.

“This is a great honor, Sire. I will always endeavor to be worthy of it.” The ritual words seemed strangely hollow to Lord Shonto.

“See that you do. Put it in your sash, Motoru-sum. You may wear a sword in my presence.”

Shonto bowed his head to the mat before taking up the weapon. “I will wear it always for the Emperor’s protection, Sire.”

“We must speak again later.” Around them the sound of conversation resumed. “Lady Nishima, we look forward to your recital.”

Lord Shonto and Nishima bowed once more, rose, and backed away. A
young man dressed in the black kimono with the Dragon Fan of the Emperor’s staff stepped forward.

“Lady Nishima, I have an instrument for you, and the Lady Kitsura awaits. May I escort you?”

Nishima touched her uncle’s arm. “Remember, you promised me an introduction.” There was much unsaid between them as she turned to join her cousin.

Shonto watched his daughter as she disappeared into the crowd, her long sleeves dancing as she moved. She is precious to me, he thought, and this is a dangerous time for such feelings.

He turned toward a table laden with food, his hand resting on the unfamiliar hilt of the ancient sword of his namesake. Lady Okara appeared among the river of passing faces. She bowed to Shonto, who returned the formality with equal courtesy. Without any discussion they began to walk toward the edge of the garden, away from the press of people.

Large, flat stones had been arranged along the pond’s shore in a pattern of studied randomness, asymmetry being one of the laws of Waian art. Stepping out onto these islands of granite the two old friends were alone.

“So Mito-sum, I have just watched as you were honored and threatened at the same time,” Lady Okara said. She was a tall woman with immense dignity and presence and Shonto admired her greatly.

“It was quite a performance.” Shonto seemed to consider for a moment and his body visibly relaxed. “No matter. Tell me, Lady Okara, how has the Emperor tempted you to one of these—what is the term you use?—social dog fights?”

“He used the greatest of all coercions—he appealed to my vanity. The Lady Okara is here to be honored, and one does not refuse to be honored by one’s Emperor.

“He has had my
Twenty-one Views of the Grand Canal
set to dance. I admit to being curious as to how this has been done. I might add that I’m more than a little suspicious. Art is not something that the Yamaku have ever shown an interest in.” She reached out and the hand which squeezed Lord Shonto’s was cold. “What possible use can he have for me, Mito-sum?”

“I can’t imagine, so perhaps the compliment is real. You richly deserve it, you know.”

“Even you have become a flatterer!

“I see your lovely daughter is with you, Mito-sum. You’ve waited a long time to find her a husband, yeh?”

Shonto shrugged.

“Perhaps the Emperor will choose his heir soon and that will help you with your decision?”

“That doesn’t seem likely.” Lord Shonto sighed and looked over his shoulder. “He doesn’t think that anyone is fit to replace him on the Dragon Throne, including his sons. This makes all of them somewhat less suitable as husbands.”

“But if one of these sons had a good advisor, he might last long enough to pass the Throne to
his
son, making the mother very important.”

“The Shonto family have never had designs on the Throne, Okara-sum, everyone knows that. I don’t think my grandson will carry the Sword of Imperial office, and that does not concern me.

“Finding Nishi-sum a suitable husband, without insulting the Imperial family—
that
is my real problem.”

“She carries too much of the old Imperial blood for her own good. If you marry her to the Yamaku, you strengthen their claim, and if you marry her elsewhere her sons will always be a danger to the Emperor. I don’t know anyone who has enough power to risk having her as a bride.”

“You’re right, Okara-sum, there’s no one—not now.”

“Poor girl.” The woman’s voice was sad. “She is a soldier on a vast gii board.”