The Initiate Brother Duology

by Russell, Sean

  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.

  Four

  SHONTO’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 rapi
dly.”

  “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!

  Without any noticeable signal, the servant moved to open the shoji. Inside the opening, Kamu bowed low.

  “General Jaku Katta, Lord Shonto.”

  Shonto nodded and Jaku stepped through the doorway dressed in the black uniform of the Imperial Guard, on his right breast, the Dragon Fan of the Imperial House, surmounted by the six small crimson dragons denoting a general of the First Rank. Under his right arm Jaku carried a finely crafted dress-helmet, reminding Shonto that the general was left-handed.

  The general knelt and bowed surprisingly low to Shonto and remained kneeling, refusing the cushion that the servant offered.

  “This surprise visit honors my House, General,” Shonto said, bowing slightly. “Please, join me in some mead.”

  “It is my honor to be received, Lord Shonto,” Jaku answered, without apology. His gaze was drawn out from the veranda into Shonto’s garden. “It is as everyone says, Lord Shonto. This garden is the pattern of which all others are but imitations.”

  Shonto gave a half nod, “It was designed to be neither too elaborate, nor too ostentatious—as I prefer all things—so the essence is not masked in any way but only enhanced.”

  Neither man spoke for a moment as they contemplated the garden. The servant leaned forward unobtrusively and filled porcelain cups.

  “I have been trying to bring the water sound back into harmony with the rest of the garden, Katta-sum. Tell me, does it seem too sharp to you?”

  Jaku Katta closed his eyes and listened, without moving. Shonto studied the man’s face, which was strong featured, especially the jaw and the high forehead. The eyelids were heavy, almost sleepy, under dark brows. Jaku’s thin lips and wide mouth were not quite hidden by a magnificent, drooping mustache. Just above average height and perfectly proportioned, Jaku knelt across from Shonto with an easy, relaxed poise which was also present in his movements, and the lord remembered that the other kick boxers had named him the Black Tiger, after the steely-eyed cat.

  Jaku’s eyes were aberrant in color—a light, icy gray rather than the almost universal brown. Both his brothers were green-eyed, which was also unusual, though somewhat more common. The eyes were just another factor in Jaku’s mystique—“the entirely uncommon man.”

  “I feel the stream is perfectly in balance with the whole. I would not touch a pebble of its bed,” Jaku said opening his tiger-eyes.

  “You do not think the bamboo should be thinned?”

  Jaku listened again. “No, Lord Shonto, I think that it’s perfect. I have never in my life heard nor seen such a beautiful garden.”

  Shonto nodded, “I thank you for your opinion, Katta-sum. So, General, tell me. What is it that brings you here so early?”

  Jaku set his cup carefully on the fine wooden table and composed himself before speaking. He met Shonto’s eyes and the lord was startled by their intensity.

  A mark for you, Jaku, Shonto thought, you understand the power of this gift.

  “The Emperor has asked me to express his concern for your safety, Lord Shonto.”

  “Ah. I am touched by his concern, but the Shonto have long since learned to take precautions and, of course, I will take more now that I represent the Throne in Seh.”

  Jaku continued to hold Shonto’s eye. “Your new Spiritual Advisor arrives today?”

  Shonto almost laughed. You cannot throw me off so easily, my friend. We both have been keeping track of his progress.

  “I have been expecting him for the last few days. Why?”

  “The Emperor has reason to believe that this monk is a threat to you, Sire.”

  “I see. And is this so, General Jaku?”

  Jaku looked down at his strong hands at rest on his thighs and then he met Shonto’s eyes again. This tactic, Shonto realized, would soon lose its impact.

  “We have reports on this young monk that we find…disturbing, Lord Shonto.”

  “Can you elaborate, Katta-sum? Nothing about the young man seems at all out of order to me.”

  Jaku cleared his throat quietly like the bearer of some bad news, news that it would pain him to reveal. “We have received reports that this monk—this Initiate Brother Shuyun—has been given a great deal of special training, the nature of which is not entirely known to us. During his year in Wa as senior Initiate he was apprenticed to the most accomplished Botahist Brothers who treated him almost with deference. The entire time he was in Wa the Botahist Sisters spied on him and even tried to maneuver a young Acolyte nun—in disguise, of course—into his company. They were, by the way, unsuccessful.

  “It seems that this boy-monk possesses powers that are unusual even for the Silent Ones,” Jaku spoke the term with distaste. “And he has been chosen for you, Lord Shonto, the Emperor’s most trusted governor.

  “We fear that there is a plot against you or against the Emperor or both. The Botahist Brotherhood can never be trusted. They have strayed far from the teachings of Lord Botahara and have meddled in the affairs of the Empire far too often. I cannot believe they have changed in this regard, despite the platitudes of their current leader.” Jaku fell to silence and Shonto could see that he was controlling his anger in the manner of the kick boxers—
his breathing became even and his face almost serene. The fighters always looked so before a contest.

  Shonto listened again to the sound of his garden and wondered if Jaku, with his boxer’s sense, was aware of the guards nearby. He would, no doubt, realize that they must be there—being trained to stillness could not prevent that.

  “It seems to me, Katta-sum, that the Brotherhood has been most obliging, in fact unusually so, to our Emperor. Did they not make a present of the land that the Emperor wished to purchase from them not more than a year ago? Have they not blessed the Son of Heaven and his line, thereby assuring the support of all the followers of Botahara? No small thing!

  “There are rumors that they have offered the Emperor greater services than this and he has refused.”

  “They offer nothing without its price! They are merchants of the human soul, trading their so-called enlightenment for power and gold. They are hypocrites, without loyalty to anything but their own aspirations.”

  Ah, Shonto thought, did not Botahara say that we hate in others those things which are the least admirable in ourselves?

  “So, Katta-sum, I don’t understand what it is the Emperor wishes of me. I can hardly turn away my Spiritual Advisor now. That would be out of the question! I have made an agreement. Besides, I have paid very handsomely for this monk’s service—gold in exchange for the knowledge of the soul, as you have said. Perhaps you have come merely to warn me of the Emperor’s suspicions in this matter?”

  “The Emperor thinks you would be well advised to send this monk back to his teachers, Lord Governor.”

  “General Jaku,” Shonto said in his most patronizing tone, “I cannot do that on the scant information you have given me. Our family has employed Spiritual Advisors continuously for over five hundred years. It is a Shonto belief that we have profited from these arrangements. I can hardly believe that the Botahist Brothers would send a monk who was a threat to the Emperor into the Shonto House. It would make no more sense than sending such a one to Jaku Katta!” Shonto laughed and motioned to have their cups refilled.