The Initiate Brother Duology (65 page)

The corporal’s father was the Captain of Lord Shonto’s personal guard and it was the young man’s secret hope to bear this rank himself in his time. Even more, it was his dream that the Rohku name would be bound to that of the Shonto over generations of important service—as the Shigotu of old had attained fame for their service as elite guards to seven generations of Mori Emperors. For the time being he would have to accept a more humble position, for he was not sure that Lord Shonto even knew his name.

Beyond the shelter of the bridge, hailstones flowed down tiny rivers that ran between cobbles, disappearing before they made their circuitous way to the canal. Corporal Rohku found himself following their progress, trying to decide where the stones ceased to be ice and became part of the water. A
second rumble of thunder shook the earth and, as though this were a signal, an ornate barge took form in the mist that hung over the canal. Before Rohku truly registered this, the barge faded again, reappeared, and then disappeared wholly into the clouds as though it had been only a specter of mist shaped by an errant eddy of wind.

Rain and hail forgotten, the Shonto guard mounted the stairs back to the avenue three at a time and ran out onto the bridge. So absorbed was he in trying to part the clouds with an act of will that he failed to notice the Neophyte monk was now standing at the bridge’s far end staring into the fog with equal focus.

They did not have long to wait, for the barge appeared again, this time in more substantial form. It was intricately carved, painted crimson and gold, with banners hanging limp in the teeming rain.

One pennant did not need to stretch itself in the wind to be recognized for it was Imperial Crimson. A five-clawed Imperial Dragon would circle the sun within those folds of silk. The other pennants were unrecognizable.

Corporal Rohku waited with all the patience his young spirit could summon. A second barge, a typical river craft, appeared in the wake of the Imperial Barge, for that is no doubt what it was. Just when the young guard thought he could bear it no more, a hint of a breeze, a mere sigh, tugged at the pennants. Against a dark field, a Choka hawk spread its wings, appeared to take a single beat, and then collapsed as the fickle breeze died.

The guard was off at a run toward the Governor’s Palace. As he crossed the bridge, a young Botahist monk hurried past in the opposite direction though the young soldier did not notice, let alone return, the monk’s half bow. There was no time to be polite to strangers. Jaku Katta had arrived—and several days before he was expected.

Corporal Rohku pushed on, keeping up his pace until reaching his destination, whereupon he spent several moments regaining his breath before he could give his report with any show of dignity.

General Hojo Masakado, Lord Shonto Motoru’s senior military advisor, knelt so that he was between his liege-lord and the two openings to the room—screens leading to an outer room and the balcony. It was an old habit, one which he had developed in service to Shonto’s father during the Interim Wars. Having served two generations of Shonto was a source of great pride to Hojo and he often found himself comparing the two lords. Physically they were obviously father and son, the high, broad Shonto forehead
seemed to miss few generations, and both lords were exactly the same height and weight—slightly more than average in both. Personalities differed, however. The father had been more reserved and formal, a biographer and historian of some note; his humor was dry and intellectual. Motoru was far less formal, more inclined to a social life, enjoying the company of those much older and noticeably younger than himself. He had the ability of great leaders to make everyone comfortable in his presence.

Lord Shonto sat before a low table across from Hojo and the Shonto family Spiritual Advisor, Initiate Brother Shuyun, each of whom bent over the table in turn and examined three small coins that lay on the fine-grained wood—square gold coins with round holes in their centers.

“There is no question, Sire,” General Hojo said, “they are identical.”

Shonto turned to the Botahist Brother, raising an eyebrow in characteristic fashion. Shuyun held the coin in the palm of his small hand, staring with the ageless eyes remarked upon by everyone who met him. Hojo reminded himself that this small monk, no larger, and barely older than Lady Nishima, had once defeated the most famed kick boxer in all of Wa. Despite his appearance and quiet manner, he was as formidable a warrior as General Hojo—perhaps more so.

“I agree entirely, Lord Shonto,” Shuyun said. “They have even been struck by the same die. A small irregularity can be felt along the inner edge.” He turned the coin over and ran the ball of his index finger around the central hole. Both Hojo and Shonto did the same, with some concentration. Shonto looked at his general and Hojo shook his head almost imperceptibly.

“I do not doubt that you are right, Shuyun-sum,” Shonto said, “though it is beyond my senses to feel this.” The lord turned the disk over in his hand and realized he held the coin that had been taken from the raiding barbarian warrior. The strange dragon etched into its lustrous surface seemed to look at him with some suspicion. “Lord Kintari’s dissolute son, a barbarian warrior, and now the coins Lady Nishima brings from Tanaka: ‘from a trunk the Imperial Guard spirited onto a ship,’ Tanaka tells us. A ship bound north. That is all we know.”

They fell silent and a sudden cloudburst unleashed a torrent of hail which battered the tile roof with a clatter that would not allow quiet conversation—private conversation. Shonto reached over and opened the screen a crack that they might watch the spectacle.

Hail turned to rain and Shuyun broke the silence. “It is one of the lessons of the Botahist trained that there are times when speculation serves little purpose, Lord Shonto, General Hojo, if you will excuse me for saying so. If we have considered all possibilities, then we must accept that we do not yet know enough. Coins come from Yankura and make their way into the desert: that is truly all we know. There are, however, other concerns which we can act upon. My teachers taught that we should begin where we may and practice patience where we must.”

“Your teachers were wise, Shuyun-sum,” Shonto said, surprising Hojo. He had never heard anyone but their former Spiritual Advisor, Brother Satake, come so close to criticizing his liege-lord. It was a measure of how much Lord Shonto had come to trust this monk in the short time he had been in the Shonto house. The lord turned the coin over in his hand one last time and then returned it to the table.

An almost imperceptible knock sounded on the inner screen and Hojo moved to open it a crack. He listened to a voice neither Shuyun nor Lord Shonto could hear, nodded, and pushed the shoji closed.

Lord Shonto raised an eyebrow, a gesture his staff did not need explained.

“Jaku Katta has arrived in Rhojo-ma, Sire.”

Shonto reached unconsciously for the coins again but stopped himself. “Huh.” He turned his gaze back to the opening in the shojis. “It would be interesting to know what the Emperor’s Guard Commander could tell us of these coins.”

Hojo nodded.

“Please arrange a meeting with General Jaku as soon as convenience allows. We shall see if it is true—in the dark tigers see more than men.”

*   *   *

Even by Botahist standards the Prefect of Seh was a very old man and his age inhabited his body in manner uncommon among the Botahist trained. Monks typically remained lithe and youthful far past the age when the untrained had slipped into infirmity if they remained alive at all.

Brother Nyodo, Master of the Botahist faith and Prefect of Seh, moved so slowly that he seemed always to be progressing toward an early closure of the Form.

He set a tightly rolled scroll on his writing table and very slowly turned back to his guest, Senior Brother Sotura, the chi quan master of Jinjoh Monastery.

“There is no brother by that name in our registry;
Hitari,
yes but no
Hitara.
Was Brother Shuyun certain?”

“Prefect, I do not think it is possible for him to make such a mistake.”

“You think highly of this young Initiate, Brother Sotura. I begin to wish to make his acquaintance.”

“Perhaps that will become possible at some future time, Prefect. It is the Supreme Master’s wish, for the time being, that we keep our meetings with Brother Shuyun infrequent. It is important that Lord Shonto feel that his Spiritual Advisor is truly his.”

“I only hope this will not lead to…” the monk searched for a word, “…to the willfulness we experienced with Brother Satake.”

“That is my hope also, Prefect.”

“Hitara…?” the Prefect said slowly. “It is not possible that he was an imposter.” It did not seem to be a question, so Sotura did not respond. “Is there not a Hitara in the Book of Illusion, Sotura-sum? I seem to remember…” He trailed off, a look of confusion and then dismay at his failure of memory.

“In the description of the Divine Vale.” Sotura picked up the thread. “I had forgotten.
Hitara—
he who died and was reborn. The servant who served the Perfect Master faithfully when all others left for fear of the Emperor. Hitara rose from the flames of his funeral pyre: ‘
It was as though he stepped from the mist, and though the smoke and flames threatened to consume him, Hitara was untouched by them. He was like one arising from a dreamless sleep. When told of the seven days he had lain dead while his family mourned, he fell to his knees and offered up his prayers. And his funeral became the celebration of his rebirth and the celebration of his birth became the celebration of his life to be, for no other man had known such a miracle.’”

Both monks fell silent at this. Rain fell on the tiles in the courtyard, washing away the hail that had collected earlier. A knock rattled the inner shoji.

“Please enter,” the Prefect said, surprised that his words came out in a near whisper.

The shoji slid aside, revealing an Initiate of the faith, head bowed to the mat.

“Initiate?” the old man said, regaining his voice somewhat.

The young monk moved forward and placed a small stand bearing a neatly folded letter within reach of his superior, then retreated and waited in silence.

“Please excuse me, Brother Sotura, I must attend to this.” He unfolded
the crisp paper and read quickly. The Prefect nodded as though acknowledging spoken words and turned back to the attending Initiate. “He must be observed whenever possible. I will receive daily reports.”

The messenger nodded, bowed and retreated from the room, the screen closing behind him.

The Prefect turned to the chi quan master. “General Jaku Katta has entered Rhojo-ma. He comes in an Imperial Barge, making one wonder at Brother Hutto’s recent news.”

Sotura paused for a moment, reflecting. “The Son of Heaven has made no public gesture that would indicate that Katta does not stand in the light of the Throne. But I have found that one ignores Brother Hutto’s information at great risk.”

The older man nodded. “I agree, Brother. Appearances mean little in the world of the Emperor. He treats Lord Shonto as a great favorite, but only a fool would accept this as the truth.”

“Jaku Katta in Seh…this is a cause for concern. I find this too much like the opening of a game of gii. There are too many pieces for one to see clearly. It is complicated even more with tales of alleged barbarian armies. It is as though another entire set of pieces waited to sweep onto the board at any second.” Sotura met the Prefect’s eyes. “We must inform the Supreme Master of these developments immediately.”

“Oh, certainly, Brother Sotura. There is no question. I have only hesitated so that I may decide how much credence to give your young protégé’s report.”

“Brother Shuyun did not see the number of warriors that the encampment indicates, I agree, but I do not think this was a barbarian ruse. As Shuyun-sum has said, riders from Seh were unexpected there. I fear his information is horribly true, Prefect. I propose that we send word to Brother Hutto and to the Supreme Master immediately, and under both our signatures.”

“I am not certain, Brother Sotura.” The older man seemed to return to his former state of confusion. “It is so difficult to believe. An army of that size? How is that possible? Even the barbarians are not bred from the sand. We would appear to be alarmists at the very least if this army does not exist. I hesitate to sign my name to a report that is based on so little information.”

“Excuse me, Prefect, but may I remind you that Lord Shonto does not question what Shuyun-sum reported.”

The old man shook his head. “One can never know the true meaning of anything Lord Shonto says or does, Brother. He is engaged in a struggle for his life and the future of his House. If the Son of Heaven sent an army to Seh to save his Empire from the barbarians and Lord Shonto could control that army…consider—the balance in the Empire could be altered.” The Prefect gestured slowly toward the walls as though they encompassed all of Wa.

“I do not profess to know the secrets of this Shonto’s mind, Prefect, but I take nothing he does or says at its apparent value. We do have a Brother in the Shonto House, however—a trusted advisor to the lord himself.”

The Prefect’s motion suddenly lost its flow and became almost stiff. “We have had a trusted advisor in Shonto’s House before, excuse me for reminding you, Brother, and he was more loyal to his lord than to his Order. We do not have verifiable evidence of the size of the army in the desert. I should tell you that this is not the first report of barbarian hordes I have heard.”

Sotura considered this for some time. “If I send a warning to our superiors under my own signature, what will the Prefect do?”

“I will feel obliged to report that I am not convinced by Brother Shuyun’s evidence.”

“Conflicting reports will certainly ensure that no action is taken. If Shuyun’s information is correct, there is little time for hesitation. Little time to seek more information.”

“Excuse me for saying so, Brother Sotura, but Lord Shonto’s Spiritual Advisor, for all his abilities, is a young man and new to the north. No experience from all my years in Seh would indicate that such an army could exist in the wastes. I do not feel I would be acting as my position requires to give credence to Shuyun-sum’s report.”