The Initiate Brother Duology (130 page)

“They are such fools,” Nishima said coolly, but there was no conviction in her voice.

“Nishima-sum!” Shokan reached over and took hold of her arm, spilling cha over her hands. “You must listen.”

She fixed him with a cold glare and he let go of her hands. “I am listening, brother. What is it you have come to say?”

Shokan took a deep breath.

Nishima realized he waited for eye contact before he spoke and so she looked up, not trying to hide her anger.

“There is one candidate acceptable to all,” her stepbrother said, speaking with unnecessary precision. “If you will consent to become our Empress, Nishima-sum, we will avoid civil war.”

Nishima started to laugh, but the laugh died in her throat. She began to speak and could not. She stared at her brother as though he had spoken words that, beyond all doubt, confirmed him mad.

“Lady Nishima,” Kamu spoke gently. “Thousands of lives may be saved by your decision. There is an entire Empire to think of.”

My father is dead. The Empire has fallen. Why will you not leave me in peace?
“Kamu-sum,” she said as reasonably as she could. “I know nothing of the ways of government. How can you seriously expect me to rule? This is madness,” she
said, exasperated. Again she began, trying to achieve a tone of reason. “What of Lady Kitsura? The Omawara have as much Hanama blood as the Fanisan. Perhaps she will consent to be your Empress. Please, brother. Speak no more of this…I cannot bear it.”

“Sister, my father raised me to understand my duty.” Shokan’s voice was as cool as hers now. “Did he not do the same with you?”

Lady Nishima stared at Shokan.
My father is dead, how can you insult me now? Have I not paid enough?

“Lord Shonto,” she said to her stepbrother, “if I seriously believed that I could play a part in saving Wa, I would not hesitate to do so. But once this crisis is passed and we avoid civil war—then Wa will be saddled with an Empress who knows nothing of the art of ruling. If one day we do oust the barbarians, I would not know where to begin to rebuild an Empire. I would be a worse ruler than the Yamaku.” She waved a hand at the door. “Bother me no more with this. We have a lord whose ceremonies must be seen to.”

“I will say no more, sister,” Shokan answered, “though I would ask you to come to the Great Hall and inform the gathered lords of your own decision. Then you may see the civil war begin with your own eyes.”

“Shokan-sum!” Nishima cried. “You do not know what it is you ask. Please do not place this burden upon me.” Her hands trembled and she dropped the cha bowl to the mat. “Please, it is my life you ask for.” She covered her face with her hands but no tears came.

Oh, father,
she thought,
they are not satisfied with one Shonto life, they want another.

“Sister,” Shokan said very softly, “I would spare you this if I could. I would take it upon myself, but I cannot. By midday a barbarian army will be at our gate. We must have a new sovereign and we must have made our escape. If you will not take up this duty, the Empire will dissolve into chaos. Let me tell the gathered lords that you require time to consider. That you will answer in an hour. Let us hold off calamity as long as possible. Sit and ponder the alternatives, sister. Speak with your Spiritual Advisor. Let me say you will decide within the hour?”

Nishima sat for a long moment, then nodded her head, the tiniest of movements. “I will give you my decision at dawn. Please ask Brother Shuyun if he will attend me.”

Kamu looked over at Shokan who nodded toward the door. Bowing, the two men rose and left, closing the door quietly behind them, and making
Nishima think that they suddenly felt they should not disturb the grieving daughter. As though they had not thrown her already uncertain life to the wind once again.

She sat unmoving, and then Lady Kitsura entered through a screen. She was dressed in the silk robes of a peer—one of Nishima’s robes, in fact.

“There is a bath, Nishi-sum, and your servants have found some of your own robes.” Kitsura paused.

Nishima did not look up. “I can accept the fall of the Empire,” she said in a flat voice, “more easily than I can believe that my father is gone—he seemed the greater of the two.”

Kitsura nodded. Kneeling, she took Nishima’s hands. “A bath will help, cousin, truly.”

Nishima nodded. Servants came and led her to her bath, leaving her to soak in peace as she preferred. Carefully laid out within view were robes and combs and perfumes, and the box that belonged to her mother decorated with the warisha blossom of the Fanisan House. Nishima closed her eyes. So many had died that day. Jaku was dead, she realized. His death poem was hidden in her hunting costume. I must have it sent to his brother, poor man. She hugged her arms across her breasts and felt the warmth work at knotted muscles. Remembering the teaching of Brother Satake, she began an exercise to relax her muscles and calm her spirit. Her focus was so poor that this was an indifferent success.

A tap on the screen preceded a maid’s voice from outside. “Brother Shuyun awaits, my lady.”

Nishima fought back a sudden attack of tears and, when she felt she had mastered them, she stepped out of the bath.

Dressing without too much haste was difficult, but she forced herself to move slowly lest her servants think she rushed to meet a man. “Tokiwa,” Nishima said to the maid who waited beyond the screen. “I wish to pray with Brother Shuyun, I do not want to be disturbed for any reason.”

“Yes, my lady.”

“Have you laid a bed for me in the adjoining room? I will try to sleep later.”

“It has been done, Lady Nishima.”

“Thank you, Tokiwa. You may go. I will tie my sash.”

She could easily imagine the servant nodding and performing her graceful bow before hurrying off.

Nishima left her hair down and combed it carefully. She tied her sash with particular care.

Slipping into the room, Nishima was disappointed to find Shuyun not present and then she heard his voice whisper her name from the balcony.

Shuyun was standing at the rail, looking out to the north. Nishima came and stood close beside him, resting her hand on his shoulder.

“Upon the fields,” he said, pointing off to the distance.

A fire burned there and then Nishima realized that it must be many rih distant—the figures moving around it were so small. The blaze was enormous.

“What is this?” Nishima asked.

Shuyun shook his head. “Even the Kalam does not know.”

“They burn the fallen, certainly.”

Shuyun shook his head. “Perhaps, but it is not their way, Lady Nishima.”

They stood a moment longer and then Nishima took his hand and gently led Shuyun away from the spectacle, back inside. Nishima opened a screen at the room’s end where an enormous bed had been made. A single lamp cast a soft glow.

Nishima stopped him at the bed’s edge and embraced the monk who returned the caress with more warmth than usual. Nishima guided his hand to the knot on her sash. “Pull,” she whispered.

Doing as he was instructed Shuyun felt the knot give and unravel in his hand.

“A Lover’s Knot,” she said.

The monk almost stepped away, but she held him.

“I am a fallen Brother,” he said, an edge of anguish in his voice. “A lost one.”

She held him close, afraid he would leave. “Do not despair, Shuyun-sum, I have found you. Please stay with me. Tonight I have need of a friend more than ever.” She reached back and took the sash from his hand and let the heavy brocade slip to the floor, uncoiling itself around her feet.

“They have asked me to ascend the throne,” she said suddenly, her voice the smallest whisper.

He nodded. “I have been told.”

She stepped away, pulling the quilts back on the bed and drawing the monk in after her.

They lay close in the dim light of the lamp. “I must tell them what I will do in a few hours.”

They did not speak for some minutes. “I do not think I can bear my father’s death, Shuyun-sum. I have not the strength…and they want me to be their Empress.”

“I believe Lord Shonto will be reborn in only a few days. His spirit will return, though you may never meet it or know it if you do.”

Nishima did not answer immediately. “Even so, he is lost to me. I am a selfish, spoiled peer, and it is
my
loss that grieves me though it shames me to say this.

“It is not surprising that I have led you from the path, Shuyun-sum. I am so far from perfection it is a marvel I was not born an ant.”

Shuyun smiled. “Be careful what you say, ants have Empresses also. It is a fate that can pursue you from lifetime to lifetime.”

The sounds of distant voices reached them, the chanting of the crowd beyond the gates.

“I do not know what answer I should give the lords of Wa. My father warned that an act of bravery might be required of me, yet I do not think I am brave enough. I know nothing of ruling, Shuyun-sum. It seems a sham to ascend a throne that in a few hours will belong to this barbarian Khan.”

“I am not certain the barbarian will be long for this throne,” Shuyun whispered. “Perhaps only days.”

Nishima pulled back so that she could see the monk’s face. “Why do you say this?”

“In the mist, when I disappeared and had you and Lady Kitsura wait—do you remember the coughing? The tribesman suffered from the plague, there is no doubt. It will spread among the army of the desert more easily than the wind blows through unshuttered houses. It will be a great tragedy. Tens of thousands will die, and if the Khan takes the city the plague will spread through the capital. Barbarian patrols have crossed the river and turn back all those who hoped to make their escape. The population of the city is four times what it would be normally.”

“Botahara save us,” Nishima said. “We will all die-barbarians and people of Wa alike. Is there no escape?”

Shuyun nodded. “For the few, there is hope of escape.”

Nishima closed her eyes. “Do the others know of this, the plague?”

“I have told only General Hojo. It is possible that others may guess what the barbarians’ fires mean—they must burn the plague-dead and all of their belongings, perhaps even their horses, hoping this will save them. It will
not.” Shuyun paused. “I regret that General Hojo will not listen to my counsel in this.”

Nishima pulled back so that she could touch the monk’s cheek, tracing the outline with great tenderness. “What have you counseled?”

“To save Wa, we must save the barbarians. It is the only possibility.”

Nishima froze, unable to believe what she had heard. “Even I am aghast at this suggestion. They have murdered the length our Empire.”

“And so have we, my lady. You do not know how many refugees have died on the roads and the canal.” Shuyun took her hand and pressed it to his heart. She felt the warmth, the tingle of chi. “When the barbarians reach the capital tomorrow, I could walk out to meet them under a flag of peace. I would offer them an exchange. My Order will save them from the plague if they will lay down their arms. Thousands of lives might be saved.”

Nishima propped herself up on one arm. The people of the capital—the plague would ravage the city, while she escaped. But save invaders? No one would agree to this. She looked out the half open screen, and saw the flicker of the barbarians’ pyre, far out on the plain.

Did not Botahara teach compassion? she asked herself. “Is it possible, Shuyun-sum? Will this Khan believe you?” She rolled back, staring up at the ceiling, her hand to her brow. “If not, you would be in great danger.” Her mind raced through the possibilities now. “Will the Botahist Brothers perform this task? The barbarians are not followers of the True Path.”

“Few are, Nishima-sum.” Shuyun pushed her hair back behind her ear. “The Brothers will agree reluctantly. It saddens me to say this, but I believe it is more likely that the barbarians will listen than it is that the lords of Wa will agree to this course.”

“But it is our only hope,” Nishima said, convinced now that Shuyun was right. “Tens of thousands could be saved—barbarians and people of Wa alike. The lords of Wa must be convinced.”

“They will not be. Their hatred of the barbarians is unreachable. Tell them that plague is about to sweep the barbarian army from the Empire and they will not care how many people of Wa will have to die so that this will occur. Sacrifice is their way. To suggest we save the invaders—they will not allow it.”

Nishima rolled so that she pressed her cheek close to Shuyun’s. “You make my choice difficult,” she whispered in his ear.

An act of bravery,
he had told her. There had been so many already.

“Shuyun-sum, tell me truthfully—if an Empress commands that this be done, will the lords of Wa obey?”

Shuyun considered for a moment. “Lord Taiki, General Hojo, and your brother control the army. No others have an organized force. Will these three obey a command from the Empress they have placed on the throne? I believe they will, Lady Nishima, though I fear it is not the answer you wish to hear.”

Nishima closed her eyes for some time, breathing as Brother Satake had taught her. Oh, father, it is my greatest fear. You ask me to overcome my greatest fear. She felt her heart beating and forced it to calm.
Thousands of lives she told herself, balanced against my own desires and fears.

Opening her eyes she whispered to the room. “If Hojo and Shokan-sum will agree to your plan, I will ascend the throne though my entire life I have vowed I would not.”

She felt Shuyun draw her close. Pressing her eyes closed she said a silent prayer, though it was not to any god. Nishima spoke to Lord Shonto, praying she had chosen correctly. May this be the act of bravery, she thought, and not an act of foolishness.

She whispered close to Shuyun’s ear. “What name will I take if I am to ascend the Throne of Wa?”

Shuyun drew her closer and said,
“Shigei.
”

“I do not know that name.”

“It is from the mountain tongue, as is my name. Shuyun—he who bears. Shigei—she who renews. It is the name of a mountain spirit. It is also the name given to fair spring winds and to the scent of new budding leaves. She who renews. Empress Shigei.”