SI3 The Way of the Traitor (1997)
Page 18
oShould I proceed with my planned venture?
He performed the elaborate ritual of dividing, counting, discarding, and grouping the sticks until he had three piles. On the paper, he inked a broken line, which corresponded to the numbers of sticks in the piles. Then he repeated the process. His hands moved automatically; his thoughts drifted. Once again, memory carried him into the past.
He saw himself and his brother as young men "Hsi, tall and robust; Liu Yun the slight, refined scholar "walking together down a country road beneath golden autumn foliage, returning home from the provincial capital where they'd taken the civil service exams that would determine their futures.
oI don't care about failing those stupid exams. Scowling, Hsi kicked a rock.
oBut what will you do? Liu Yun said. oYou'll never get a government position now.
Hsi flung down his pack of books and clothing and glared. oElder brother, how many times must I tell you? I don't want to be a bureaucrat. Anyway, it's over. You passed your exams "you be the family success.
oRepeat the exams, Liu Yun pleaded. Since childhood, he'd dreamed of their getting posts in the same government office. oI'll tutor you. Your score will be higher next time. Please "
Hsi grasped Liu Yun's shoulders. oListen. A war is coming. When we were in the capital, I heard that the Manchus have already conquered Shensi and Honan Provinces. Eventually they'll invade Peking. I plan to join the emperor's army and save our kingdom from this foreign scourge. His childhood dream "of being a soldier " hadn't changed, either.
Liu Yun had dismissed the news as gross exaggeration. oThe Ming emperors have ruled China for almost three hundred years. The northern tribesmen will never take Peking. Father will never let you join the army. Nor will I!
Hsi shouldered his pack and stalked down the road; Liu Yun hurried to catch up. oNo regime is invincible, elder brother, Hsi retorted. oThat much history I've learned, even though I failed the exam. Then he halted in his tracks and pointed. oWhat's that?
From over the hill drifted black smoke. The brothers broke into a run. They reached the family estate to find the house and outbuildings on fire. Through the wreckage galloped mounted Manchu troops, clad in leather and fur, long queues waving as they carried away loot and trampled fleeing servants.
oFather! Mother! Liu Yun cried.
The old couple lay at their door, throats slashed. Sobbing, Liu Yun knelt beside his parents. Hsi launched himself at the nearest horseman, yelling, oYou'll die for this!
The Manchu soldier laughed and drew his sword. Aghast, Liu Yun hurried to his brother's rescue. oNo! he shouted, pulling Hsi out of the blade's path.
The soldier rode off with the family silver chest. Hsi struggled in Liu Yun's restraining grip. oWe must avenge our parents' death! he cried. oWe must save our lands.
oDon't be foolish, younger brother. There are too many of them, and we have no weapons. We must flee!
Liu Yun dragged the reluctant Hsi to the village to seek shelter " only to discover that the Ming army had arrived. In the marketplace, commanders drafted local men to help fight the invaders. Hsi broke away from Liu Yun, pushed his way to the head of the line of conscripts, and enlisted.
oGood-bye, elder brother, he called from astride the horse the army had given him. His eyes, filled with dreams of glory, shone brighter than the blade of his new sword. oWe'll meet again when the war is over. Then he galloped after his new comrades, leaving Liu Yun standing alone with tears in his eyes and a raw emptiness in his soul.
Now Abbot Liu Yun completed another round of the I Ching ritual. He drew a line on the paper, above the first. Through the old pain burned a fresh anger. Hsi's death had taught him what their parents' had not: the consuming desire for vengeance, which no amount of prayer or meditation could banish. He wanted to kill everyone connected with the massacre of Hsi's rebel band on Taiwan. Though his Confucian beliefs forbade him to punish the Chinese government, he hated himself for submitting to Manchu rule and not defending Hsi. His impotent anger, seeking an external target, had focused on the Dutch, who had slaughtered Hsi and the other rebels to gain trade privileges with China; on Jan Spaen, the ruthless adventurer who had tortured Hsi to death.
As Liu Yun counted and arranged the sticks, he hoped he'd managed to conceal his emotions from the shogun's ssakan. Surely he had, after a lifetime spent perfecting the art of negotiation and manipulation...
Penniless and homeless, the young Liu Yun had traveled to Peking, which remained peaceful, unchanged. The emperor still resided within the Forbidden City's great complex of lavish palaces surrounded by bloodred walls; merchants, scholars, entertainers, and outlaws still sought their fortunes in this center of commerce and culture. Forced to support himself by begging, Liu Yun almost died of cold and hunger that winter. Then, when his exam score finally reached Peking, the government awarded him a clerkship in the Bureau of Foreign Relations, where he exhibited a talent for languages and diplomacy and began his climb up the civil service ladder. Over the next nine years, he heard distressing news of Hsi. The Ming army was losing ground; the Manchus had taken Szechuan and Fukien Provinces. Famines and peasant uprisings plagued the country. Hsi got wounded, recovered, and became a general. He went missing; was presumed dead. Then one day his prediction came true.
Forty-six years ago, peasant rebels had attacked Peking. The weak, corrupt Ming government was powerless to resist. The emperor hanged himself. In desperation, the bureaucrats asked the Manchus to quell the rebellion, ceding the capital to them as a reward. Manchu troops entered the Forbidden City, cutting down peasants armed with sticks. As Liu Yun and other Ming officials, now under Manchu domination, rescued documents from a burning building, Liu Yun looked up at the sound of a familiar voice. His heart lurched.
Into the courtyard rode his brother, leading troops resplendent in Ming army regalia. oHsi! Liu Yun cried as gladness filled his heart. oYou're alive!
Then he watched in horror while Hsi's troops attacked the Manchus. oYounger brother, what are you doing?
Bloody sword still raised, Hsi turned on Liu Yun. The battle raged around them. oI could ask you the same question, elder brother. Hsi's stern face showed no joy at their reunion. oHow can you serve those who slew our parents and stole our land?
oYounger brother, your war is over, Liu Yun said, stung by Hsi's hostility. oThe Manchus have won. The Ming rulers have lost the Mandate of Heaven to them. Surrender.
oCoward! Fool! You're not my brother anymore! As more Manchu soldiers stormed the courtyard, Hsi launched another offense, shouting orders to his troops.
Within days, the Manchus had slain the last peasant rebel. They occupied Peking, completing their conquest of China. Liu Yun and his colleagues transferred their allegiance to the new rulers. China's civil service machine ground on. Liu Yun rose to the position of minister of foreign relations. He married; fathered children. Later, with his wife dead and his sons grown, he took religious vows and began his second career as an overseas priest. He tried to forget the brother who had spurned him, whom he never saw again after that meeting at the besieged palace.
Still, Liu Yun had secretly followed his brother's desperate exploits: the renegade army's victories at Amoy and Quemoy; the raid on Chekiang; the defeat at Nanjing and flight to Taiwan. Finally he'd received news of Hsi's death.
Then, two years ago, fate had brought him and Jan Spaen together in Japan, where Abbot Liu Yun had conceived his plan. He knew about Spaen's greed and ambition; he knew Japanese who shared these traits. He provided the juncture at which they would come together and he could achieve his revenge. Yet Spaen's murder had failed to satisfy him. The invisible cord still pulled, even though there was no brother at the opposite end, and nothing except his own death could reunite him with Hsi. Therefore, he'd decided to proceed with his plan; to reap more vengeance.
Now Abbot Liu Yun finished the ritual, inking the sixth and last line on the paper. He drew a sharp breath of dismay when he saw the completed pattern, the oracle'
s decision:
Hexagram number twenty-nine. K'an, the Perilous Chasm, which presaged evil for him should he pursue his current course of action.
With dread clutching his heart, Liu Yun opened the Book of Changes. The oracle spoke in oblique references and vague allusions; a hexagram must not be interpreted too literally. Each line contained shadings that might modify the decision. Liu Yun turned the pages and located the K'an hexagram.
oDanger lies ahead like an abyss filled with rushing water, he read. oYour desired result may never come to pass. Liu Yun's throat constricted as he imagined two years of painstaking work culminating in his own destruction. Then he found fragments of cautious optimism inserted amid more warnings. Hope kindled.
oProgress can be made if obstacles are encountered with an attitude of sincerity and a sharp mind. Patience is essential. Eventually order will be restored.
Abbot Liu Yun smiled as he closed the book. He was deadly sincere in his purpose. Years of scholarship, diplomatic service, and meditation had honed his mind. He'd waited this long, and could afford to bide his time. The shogun's ssakan would not thwart him in his drive to avenge his brother's death, thereby restoring order to the universe and peace to his soul.
Chapter 19
AFTER A FRUITLESS search for witnesses to Peony's murder, Sano returned home at twilight, walking his horse because his sore shoulder could no longer bear the constant jolts of riding. A glowing apricot of a sun spread soft, pink radiance upon a teal blue ocean rent with waves like slits in wrinkled silk. Over the city, a long violet cloud mass advanced westward, resembling a mounted army with banners waving: the legion of night. However, Sano couldn't afford the time to admire the beauty of this imperiled place. This was the end of the first day of the two that the Dutch captain had given him to solve Jan Spaen's murder. He needed more medicine and a fresh bandage for his wound, a bath, and a meal before testing his theory about Deshima.
As he entered his street, he performed an automatic security check "and saw the paunchy guard strolling behind him. Uneasily he wondered whether the man had followed him all day. He must be more careful of spies tonight.
oHirata? Sano called down the corridor of his mansion.
Old Carp came to meet him. oYoung master is out, he said. When Sano asked where Hirata had gone and when he'd be back, Old Carp replied, oHe didn't say, ssakan-sama.
It was just as well, Sano decided while he ate a hasty meal, bathed, had his wound attended to, and donned clean clothes. He wanted to know whether Hirata had broken Abbot Liu Yun's alibi for the night of Spaen's disappearance, and to assign him the task of checking on Liu Yun's and Urabe's whereabouts at the time of Peony's murder. But tonight he intended to discover the truth about the mysterious lights. He didn't need Hirata's interference.
As Sano started down the street toward the harbor, the skin on his back tingled. Someone was following him "someone more adept than the paunchy guard he'd easily spotted earlier. Sano returned to his mansion and found Old Carp in the kitchen. oI need your help, Sano said.
A short while later, he watched from an upstairs window while bearers set down a palanquin outside the gate. Old Carp, wearing Sano's cloak stamped with the Tokugawa crest, a spare set of swords, and a wide-brimmed hat that covered his face, climbed into the palanquin. The bearers carried it off toward the hills. A shadowy figure slipped out of an alley and followed. Sano smiled. He left the house and headed for the harbor.
ABOVE THE WATERFRONT, the moon shone softly white, its edges hazy in the moist air. Lamps burned in the harbor patrol station and on a barge on the water. Nightwatchmen paced by the warehouses, their wooden clappers punctuating the ocean's murmur with sharp clacks: All was well. Patrol officers strolled the promenade and docks. Soldiers drove oxcarts laden with cannon and ammunition for a possible battle against the Dutch ship. Sano avoided notice by staying in the shadows beneath the eaves of closed teahouses and shops as he worked his way down the promenade toward Deshima. Not knowing who might be involved in illicit activities there, he couldn't trust anyone.
A hundred paces from the guardhouse, he sprinted across the road. He darted between two warehouses and followed a dank passage to the water's edge, where a dock jutted into the harbor. It was the last one before Deshima, and gave an unobstructed view of the island's water gates. Sano looked around. Seeing no one, he tiptoed to the edge of the dock.
A rowboat was moored to a piling. It appeared empty, except for what looked to be an old blanket spread on the bottom. Sano lowered himself into the boat. His feet had just touched the blanket, when suddenly it shifted under him. He bit back a cry of surprise and shot backward onto the dock. Sword drawn, he leapt to his feet. In the boat, a human figure sat up and threw off the blanket. The moonlight caught the man's face. Sano's relief turned to anger.
oHirata, what are you doing here? he demanded in a loud, furious whisper.
The young retainer bowed, clutching a jitte in one hand. oGomen nasai "forgive me for startling you, he whispered back. oI'm waiting to catch the mysterious lights.
oI told you to stay away from Deshima. Sano jammed his sword back into its sheath. oNow get out of that boat and go home.
oBut ssakan-sama "
A sharp clacking silenced his protest. Sano turned and saw a light between the warehouses. Instantly he was off the dock and in the boat with Hirata, who threw the blanket over them. They lay tense in suffocating darkness while the dock creaked under the watchman's footsteps. Sano inhaled the blanket's musty odor and hoped the watchman wouldn't inspect the boat. He didn't want a scene that might chase away the mysterious lights and suspend the events they signaled, or his actions reported to the authorities.
The watchman's footsteps retreated. Sano sighed in relief, then emerged with Hirata from beneath the blanket.
oI'm not leaving you, Hirata whispered. oI found witnesses who saw Abbot Liu Yun near the harbor the night Director Spaen disappeared. The townspeople say he's a powerful sorcerer who performs magic in the marketplace during festivals. He could be the one who makes the lights. If he's the killer, you mustn't face him alone.
Sano felt a spring of gladness at having new evidence against Liu Yun, who might also have murdered Peony and left the fake suicide note. Yet he couldn't allow Hirata's continued presence in Nagasaki, especially if his own suspicions about the lights proved true. oNo arguments, Hirata-san, he said. oYou leave for Edo tomor...
His voice trailed off as, across the water, lights blinked purple, white, green.
oGet out of here, Hirata! Sano rasped.;
oNo!
The lights drifted toward Deshima, growing larger and brighter. Sano resigned himself to Hirata's company. To send him away now might attract the notice of the culprits "or provoke an attack by the archer who'd wounded Sano last night. The lights drew nearer to shore, smoke wafting from them. A breeze carried a harsh, burnt odor toward Sano. Now he saw a dark shape beneath the lights, and behind it, a wake that gleamed in the moonlight.
oA boat? whispered Hirata.
They watched the lights draw up to the Deshima water gates. In the colored flashes, they saw the gates open and dark figures descend the steps to the water.
oThe Dutch? Hirata guessed.
oOr the guards. Sano noticed that the barge he'd seen earlier had vanished.
Then the lights went out. Darkness enfolded the island. Sano cursed. oLet's get over there.
He cut the boat's mooring lines. Hirata stood in the stern, lifted the oar, and began to row. The boat sped across the moon-dappled black water. The wind blew chill and moist, but anticipation warmed Sano. He knew with certainty that he was on the path to Jan Spaen's killer. Then the lights reappeared, flashing upon the water south of the island, moving out toward the harbor channel. Hirata matched their speed to the lights' rapid pace. The tall, black forms of anchored ships rose around them, decks unmanned while the foreign crews slept "or hid from the ghosts.
oTake us closer, Sano told Hirata, softly so his voice woul
dn't carry across the water.
Panting, Hirata labored to reduce the distance between their boat and the lights. Sano peered ahead. Did he see a boat under the lights, with an oarsman in the stern and a passenger in the bow? Were they human? Sano shivered involuntarily as his disbelief in ghosts wavered and his faith in his theory weakened.
oMaybe it's Urabe, he whispered, telling Hirata about his interviews with the merchant and Kiyoshi, and his ideas about Peony's murder.
The harbor channel narrowed. They headed seaward between wooded bluffs that sloped up to terraced fields. The lights angled right.
oThey're going ashore. Sano's excitement grew. oSpeed up, we'll catch them there.
Hirata turned their boat, but the lights suddenly disappeared, as if extinguished by the night that lay heavily upon the landscape. Only the faint smell of smoke remained.
oRow along the coast, Sano ordered.
The coastline was irregular, convoluted. Sano and Hirata navigated around partially submerged rock formations and jutting spits of land. Above them, the woods loomed like a windswept, rustling black wall. Waves lapped the shore. Ears alert for any guiding sound, Sano strained his eyes against the darkness.