The Initiate Brother Duology (13 page)

The Emperor was unable to hide his frustration. He looked around, struggling with his rage, looking for someone to vent his considerable temper on. He was being outmaneuvered by a mere girl. He hadn’t expected her to hesitate for even a second—he had been assured that the bait was perfect.

“Lord Shonto, certainly there are members of your personal staff who can
carry out Lady Nishima’s duties for you. Not as well, no doubt,” he hurried to add, “but can’t you live without her for a while?”

“No sacrifice is too great, Sire.” Shonto answered without a second’s hesitation, much to his daughter’s dismay. “A warrior can live without everything but weapons, if need be. I can certainly survive if my household is less efficient than I am used to it being.”

The Emperor smiled broadly. “It is settled, then. The arts shall flourish again as they did in the time of the Mori!”

There was loud applause. Several of the wealthiest lords present, inspired by the Emperor’s example, offered to invest patronages of their own. If there had been any aspiring artists in attendance they would, no doubt, have found themselves suddenly able to live in a manner they had never dreamed possible.

Having accomplished his immediate purpose, the Emperor turned his attention to Lady Kitsura with whom he spoke in a most flirtatious manner, forgetting himself completely. This was the Emperor at his social best, entirely engaging, and Lady Kitsura was equally charming and many times more attractive. Lord Shonto watched the play between them with great interest. Twice he politely tried to draw Lord Komawara into the conversation, but the Emperor brushed these attempts aside as if he hadn’t noticed. Shonto noted the young lord’s neck becoming increasingly red, though his face remained calm, a slight smile crossing his face now and then at a remark or quick response.

The autumn moon had moved far into the western sky by the time the party began to break up. The Dance of Five Hundred Couples had been performed on the lawn, the long-sleeved kimonos creating the illusion of water flowing in the moonlight. Poems had been composed and recited. Assignations arranged, plots hatched, betrayals conceived, and large quantities of food and wine consumed. For those not singled out by the Emperor, it had been a most satisfying event.

Lady Nishima, though, was truly desolate. Even her harp, which had once been used by the legendary courtesan Ranyo to pacify the Mad Emperor, gave her little solace.

“I have failed you, Sire,” she said once the sampan was out the palace gate. “I stepped into the Emperor’s trap like an uneducated serving girl. All of your trust in me has been misplaced.”

Shonto grunted, it was not his place to make excuses for the failings of either his children or his vassals, so he let Nishima continue, barely listening
to her as he pursued a tiny thread in the evening’s conversation. His fine memory led him back through every turn of the conversation that his intuition told him held the key to his problem. Finally he laughed loudly and slapped his daughter on the knee, making her jump.

“I don’t see how there can be humor in this, Uncle! I am to be hostage within the city while you are at the other end of the Empire!” She was close to tears.

“Nishi-sum, I will tell you this only once, because if you do not understand it now, you never will. All plans have flaws—without exception! The trick is to find the flaw before the trap closes. In this case the trap is not yet closed, and I have found the flaw.” He laughed again, immensely pleased with himself. Shonto, like his father, loved to lecture. He continued. “This is why I always beat you at gii, I don’t wail and tear my hair when things go against me. You must always remember when setting a trap that it is not enough to know your opponent’s weaknesses, you must also have made a careful study of his strengths. Half-wisdom is the most dangerous foolishness.

“Console yourself, Nishima-sum. You did the best that could have been done under the circumstances.”

Nishima brightened a little. “Tell me, Uncle, what is the flaw? I cannot see it.”

Shonto pulled the curtain aside to check the boatmen’s progress, grunted and refused to say more, leaving his daughter to ponder the problem perhaps in the view that it might be instructive to her. There were many things to occupy his mind, preparations to make, his Spiritual Advisor to train, information to gain, and false information to spread. But something that should not matter at all kept returning to his mind.

The Emperor’s lovely Sonsa had brought Lady Okara flowers, thanking her for the inspiration that had shaped the evening’s dance. The exchange had been polite in the extreme, though the young dancer’s very real shyness and infectious laugh soon won over Shonto and his companions. She had surprised Shonto by asking him to be her partner in the Dance of the Five Hundred Couples. He had been thrilled by her Sonsa skills as she moved through the measures of the ancient dance. As the music ended and the applause began, she had leaned close to him and whispered, “Good fortune in Seh, Lord Governor. Sleep lightly, there are always greater dangers than the barbarians.” Then she was gone, leaving Shonto with only the lingering scent of her perfume.

Why, he wondered, had the Emperor instructed her to say that? Surely he did not think he could throw Shonto off balance with a few simple feints?

“Strange, yeh?” he said aloud.

“Pardon, Sire?”

“Strange young man, Komawara, yeh?”

“He seemed quite normal to me, Sire, and not very experienced. You should advise him to return to the outer provinces as soon as possible. He is a lamb among wolves here in the capital.”

“Nishi-sum, have I ever told you that you place too much value on those qualities that are the most superficial?”

“It is my evening to fall short of your expectations, Sire. I apologize most humbly.”

“Social bearing and wit, it is true, are not as highly developed in the outer provinces as they are here but, contrary to what most people think, that is because the residents of the outer provinces have better manners.”

“Oh, Uncle, you romanticize the country folk like a bad poet,” Nishima objected.

Shonto snorted. “What I’ve said is true! The
veiled barb
has never become the
art form
it is in the capital, for the simple reason that, in the outer provinces, insults are answered with swords. I always find my dealings with the people of the north most refreshing. A man only needs to keep his sword arm free and his tongue in check to enjoy the social life of a place like Seh. I much prefer that to the insignificant concerns of the Imperial courtiers!”

Yes, Shonto thought, a stay in the provinces would do Nishima good.

S
HONTO’S PRIVATE GARDEN was small but entirely exquisite. The designer, Shonto’s former Spiritual Advisor, had joined all of the garden’s elements into a delicately balanced whole that expressed both unity and diversity without losing the composition’s harmonious sense. Shonto thought of the garden as a fine piece of music wherein all of the elements complimented each other, while the underlying structure was one of tension. The garden was widely thought of as a work of high-art and was much copied throughout the Empire. The present gardener’s major problem was to maintain the essence of the original design while allowing the garden to grow, for it was, after all, a living thing and to stultify it would be to initiate a slow death.

Shonto knelt next to the babbling stream that fed the small pond, and pulled his sleeve back before plunging a hand into the cool water. He groped around in the shallows until he found the large stone he searched for and then raised it, dripping, into the sunlight. After a moment’s contemplation, he replaced the rock farther upstream, so that it now rested half exposed in the miniature rapids. The lord listened intently for a few moments and then adjusted the rock slightly, listened again, and nodded, satisfied.

He rose and walked back toward the house, stopping every few paces to listen to the results of his efforts. Stepping out of his sandals, he seated himself on a cushion on the low veranda and listened to the sound of the breeze through the bamboo stands, the buzzing of insects, and the rippling rush of his stream.

“Better,” he muttered, nodding.

Recently the stream had lost its clarity and for several days, Shonto had spent some time each morning trying to regain it, though not always to the delight of his gardener, who felt that such matters should be left to those properly trained.

The day was new, the sun not yet over the wall, and Shonto had slept only a few hours after the Emperor’s party, but he felt relaxed and refreshed. The events of the previous night were still strong in his mind.

Almost soundlessly, servants appeared from the inner apartment and set a low table before Shonto. A square covered bowl, which held steaming cloths, and two other bowls, one of peeled and sliced fruit and one containing a hot grain mash, were arranged on the table. A light mead was poured into a cup and offered to the lord, who received it with a distracted nod. He listened to his garden. A single servant remained, kneeling behind him in utter stillness.

An almost imperceptible tap sounded on the shoji and the servant opened it a crack, to listen to a whispered voice.

“Your pardon, Lord Shonto,” the servant said quietly, “it is Kamu-sum. He feels it is important that he speak to you immediately.” Shonto waved his hand to have the man allowed in. Kamu, Shonto was well aware, never interrupted him without real purpose. The man was Shonto’s steward and had served his father before him. He was old now, gray-haired and wrinkled like the face of a storm cloud, but his knowledge of the affairs of the Empire was invaluable and he was conscientious—one might even say meticulous—in the extreme. He still appeared vigorous and strong and he had long since learned to compensate for the right arm he had lost in battle.

The steward came in and knelt easily, bowed his head to the mat, and remained kneeling without a sign of impatience.

After a moment Shonto spoke. “I have adjusted the Speaking-stream, Kamu. Does it seem more focused now—sharper perhaps?”

Kamu bowed his head slightly and closed his eyes. After a few seconds he nodded. “The clarity is improved, Sire. To my ear it sounds sharper.”

“Too sharp, do you think?”

Kamu bowed his head again. “Perhaps, Sire, but it may be that the water flows too rapidly.”

“Hmm. I have wondered that myself. Perhaps if the bamboo were thinned, then the sharpness of the water would not be so obvious.”

“The bamboo is a little heavy, but in the fall winds the leaf-sound will be higher.”

“Huh,” Shonto said, still concentrating on the garden music. “Tomorrow I will slow the water somewhat and see.

“Now, Kamu, what is it that could not wait?”

“Jaku Katta is here, Sire. He arrived unannounced and requests an audience on the Emperor’s behalf.”

“Unannounced.”
Shonto made a long face. “Unusual, yeh?”

“Most, Sire.”

“I will see him here. Station guards out of sight. He must come alone. That is all.”

The old warrior bowed and rose. He was not surprised that Shonto had chosen to meet Jaku in the garden. Staging was very important in these matters. To receive Jaku in the garden would make it very clear that Jaku had interrupted the lord at his morning meal, which would put the visitor at a disadvantage. It would also make a young upstart like Jaku aware of just how much a lord of Shonto’s stature could afford to indulge himself—the garden would make that point perfectly.

Shonto heard the sound of men moving into position around him and then the garden was peaceful again. He turned his attention to the problem of Jaku Katta, the Emperor’s prime advisor and Commander of the Imperial Guard. Jaku was the Emperor’s eyes and ears throughout all of Wa and controlled the vast spy network that the Son of Heaven felt was necessary to maintain his rule. At the age of thirty-five, Jaku Katta was known to be one of the most powerful men in the Empire, and one of the most ambitious. The son of a small land holder, Jaku had first come to the Emperor’s attention as a kick boxer, champion of all of Wa for almost a decade before his duties to the Emperor took precedence.

Shonto searched his mind, dredging up odd facts and stories about the man who was about to join him. Jaku Katta was not married and was an almost legendary womanizer. His memory was apparently prodigious and his mind supple and cunning. He was, in fact, the kind of man Shonto would have trained himself—had he discovered him first—but then there was the issue of Jaku’s ambition. Shonto wondered how great the man’s loyalty was to any but Jaku Katta—and perhaps the two brothers, who were his immediate lieutenants.

Jaku, Jaku, Shonto thought, now I will have my chance to measure you.

Reaching behind him Shonto moved his sword, which stood upright on
its stand, to within easy reach. He ordered the servant to bring more mead and a second cup. He smiled broadly. It was going to be a long, full day and Shonto relished the thought of it. So much to do, so much to prepare for! He joined his hands, back to back, over his head and stretched his upper body like a young sapling growing toward the sun. Jaku, Jaku, Shonto thought, what fun we shall have!