There was no sound from within, but Sister Sutso opened the screen and stepped aside, nodding to Morima.
Taking a deep breath and releasing it as she had been taught long ago, Sister Morima entered the room, feeling her tension flow out with the outgoing breath. She knelt inside the door and bowed to the mat, hearing the Shoji slide shut behind her.
“Morima-sum, it is always such a pleasure.” Sister Saeja said, her voice a whisper.
“I am honored that you receive me, Prioress.”
“Yes, I know. Come closer, my child, I cannot see you so far away.”
Sister Morima moved forward on her knees to within an arm’s length of the old woman. Sister Saeja, the Prioress of the Botahist Sisterhood, sat propped on embroidered cotton cushions near an open screen that let onto a balcony overlooking a view much like Sister Morima’s own. She was a tiny woman, wrinkled and thin, but she had the kindest face Morima had ever seen. The ancient eyes regarded her and the gentle face wrinkled into a beatific smile.
“Ah, you are thin, Sister Morima. Has this been a difficult task I have set you?”
“I am anything but thin, Prioress. And the task…is done.”
“The task is never done, child, not for those such as you—those with special abilities, but we can talk of this later.” She reached out a thin hand and touched the younger woman’s arm, but then let her hand fall. “You have already spoken with our good Sister Gatsa, I am told.” The old woman’s eyes seemed alive with humor. “I awake each morning and wonder if I awake on my pyre, such is their haste. But there are tasks to be completed before I am truly done, Morima-sum. We both know this. There will not be a Cloister as soon as they would wish.” She laughed a small laugh. Reaching out again she took Morima’s hand in her own. “Tell me of your journey, my child, I sense that something troubles you.”
Old, yes, Morima thought, but the eyes still see. “The journey itself was uneventful, Prioress—no storms no pirates, only a calm sea and fair winds.”
“Botahara protects you, child.”
“The Brothers were no more arrogant than usual. For ten days prior to the Ceremony of Divine Renewal I fasted, as is the custom of the Brothers. The Ceremony of Purification took three days and was performed by their Supreme Master himself, the doddering Brother Nodaku. During this time, I was kept apart from the rest of the Monastery and was unable to observe any of their secret trainings or teaching.
“The Ceremony of Divine Renewal takes place at sunrise and is performed by seven senior Brothers. The Urn is removed from the altar by the Sacred Guards and set on a special stand. Unsealing it is a lengthy ordeal, as every precaution is taken to protect the scrolls from deterioration.” Sister Morima fought hard to keep her hands from trembling. How do I tell her? she asked herself. She saw fatigue in the Prioress’ eyes and felt the grip on her hand lessen. She seemed so frail.
“Are you well, Prioress?”
“Yes, go on,” she whispered.
“The scrolls are removed from the Urn by the Supreme Master as the sun rises, and laid upon the stand. Outside, every person in the monastery chants thanksgiving.” Sister Morima swallowed hard.
The Prioress had closed her eyes and Morima peered at the ancient nun, but again the whisper came, “Go on.”
“The scrolls are then unrolled, one by one and examined with extreme care. I was allowed to watch though I could not touch them.”
“Something was wrong?” Sister Saeja said, not opening her eyes.
“Yes!” Morima said hiding her face in her hands.
“Tell me, child.”
“Prioress, in preparation for this event, I studied every known reference to, and every copy of our Lord’s writing. I cannot explain what I saw there…They were very old scrolls, I’m sure but…I believe, no, I am certain that those were not the scrolls written by our Lord Botahara in His own hand.” She took a deep, uneven breath and looked at the face of her superior.
The old nun nodded almost imperceptibly. “Of course,” she whispered and fell into a deep sleep.
Nine
The purpose of the move must not
be merely hidden within another
purpose.
It must be concealed entirely,
lost within the complexity of a
plan that is even more plausible
than the real one.
Writings of the
Gii Master Soto
SHONTO’S FLEET ROUNDED the Point of Sublime Imperial Purpose and entered the Grand Canal, the ancient waterway which spanned the Empire from north to south. It was an impressive fleet that began the journey north, made up largely of flat bottomed river barges rowed by muscular oarsmen, but there were swifter craft also and not a few that had been armed for the journey.
It said much of the Empire under the rule of Akantsu II, that an Imperial Governor took measures to defend himself from robbers while traveling from the capital to his province. The truth was that Shonto could not have been more satisfied with the situation. It allowed him to arm himself openly, which meant he could protect himself more easily from those he saw as a real threat.
One of those Shonto felt threatened him stood on a guard tower watching the fleet through a narrow opening in the stone wall. Jaku Katta leaned on the worn sill and examined each ship as it passed, assessing Shonto’s strength with professional deliberation. Nearby stood his youngest brother, the lieutenant Jaku Yasata, who waited obediently for the general to complete his surveillance. Occasionally Yasata cast a glance down the walkway toward the door where he had posted soldiers, but he did not really fear interruption here—the tower was an Imperial Guard stronghold and had been for centuries.
Jaku Yasata shifted his substantial weight almost imperceptibly back and forth from one foot to the other though his face betrayed no sign of his impatience. The youngest of the three Jaku brothers, Yasata had neither the martial skill of Katta nor the intellectual brilliance of Tadamoto. He was a soldier of no special merit other than his unquestioning loyalty to his elder brothers. This one trait, though, was enough to make him immeasurably valuable to both his brothers, which indicated the amount of trust they were willing to place in those around them.
Jaku Katta stared at length as each of the river craft passed and he was reassured by what he saw. It proved that his informants were performing their function and indicated, too, that Shonto went off to the north without suspecting the real dangers that lay in his path.
Jaku caught himself gloating and suppressed the emotion. The Emperor is right about one thing, Jaku thought, I must not become overconfident. It is a great weakness. But look how the great Shonto goes! Burdened down with the poorest travelers, luckless merchants, and near bankrupt peers. Everyone has sought his protection for their journey north and Shonto has refused no one. Jaku shook his head. He had expected more from a man of such renown. He felt a momentary flash of pity for Shonto Motoru, but then Jaku laughed. Soon, so soon. Everything goes as it should.
An image of Lady Nishima appeared in his mind—a very grateful Nishima—and this thought excited him.
“Less than five thousand troops,” Yasata said peering over his brother’s shoulder.
Jaku did not turn to answer him but nodded. “Yes, and half the sycophants in the Empire.” He pointed through the opening in the stone wall. “Look at them all! Huddled together under the banner of the Imperial Governor—as though that would protect them.” He dropped his hand to the window ledge and leaned forward as far as he dared.
Yasata peered over his shoulder. “I see no special preparations. He seems to go without suspicion.”
“Shonto goes nowhere without suspicion, Yasata-sum. Do not be fooled. But this time his suspicions have been drawn from the true threat. He has special preparations, be sure of that, but for the wrong contingencies.”
“The false-trap?” Yasata ventured hoping to learn some of his brother’s plans.
“It is not false, it is secondary—but it is where Shonto’s focus
has been drawn. And when he falls, the great general will take others with him. Yasata-sum, but not the Jaku. The Jaku shall rise.” He turned and clapped his brother on the shoulder, surprising Yasata with his speed. “And that means you, Colonel Jaku. Yes! I make you a colonel. I must prepare you. I will have even greater need of your service in the future, you and Tadamoto-sum.”
Yasata looked for words to thank the general, but Katta had already turned back to the window.
The general looked down on the canal as the last barge passed. A smile appeared on his face. No, Emperor, you are wrong, it is not I who am overconfident.
Ten
Our boat of gumwood and dark locust
Her paint scaling like serpent’s skin,
Sets forth into the throng of craft
On the Grand Canal.
Uncounted travelers,
Uncounted desires
Borne over blue water.
Only the funeral barge
Covered in white petals
Appears to know its destination.
“Grand Canal”
From the later poems of
Lady Nishima Fanisan Shonto
THE MOTION OF the river barge, and the crying of the gulls seemed to lighten Lord Komawara’s spirit. He had been too long in the Imperial capital for a country lord and now his spirit had need of the wider world. I belong in Seh, he thought, I am not made for this courtier’s life of careful condescension. He took a deep breath of the fresh country air. The beginning of the journey, he thought, how the heart lifts at the beginning of a journey.
Along the riverbank entire villages of peasants gathered to show respect for the Imperial Governor’s progress. They bowed low as the flotilla approached and did not move again until it was past. Komawara saw an old man push the head of a curious child down into the dirt and hold it there, teaching the young one proper respect.
The riverbank was low here, only the slight swelling of a grass-covered levee between the water and the fields. Far ahead, around a bend in the canal, Komawara could see the first boats in the fleet and he began to count. Thirty to the barge he was on, and he had no idea how many more followed behind. It is not often that such a progress is seen, he thought, except when the Son of Heaven moves to his Summer Palace.
So many craft and who is aboard them? Soldiers, musicians, merchants, magicians, potters, swordmakers, scholars, smiths, fortune-tellers, swindlers, gamblers, Botahist Sisters, courtesans, priests. There is a representative of every part of our world, all gathered together aboard these ships. He thought a poem might be made of this, but the words would not come.
It had been a somewhat smaller flotilla that had brought him south. Of course, that had been before his attendance of the Emperor’s party, before he had met Lord Shonto. Strange how karma worked. He had gone hoping to gain the Emperor’s favor and had been ignored by the Highest One. Then, somehow, he had caught the attention of the man the Emperor felt was his greatest threat. Now here he was, returning to Seh in the entourage of the new governor.
He wondered, again, why Shonto had requested his presence. It seemed the new governor had time for many tasks. Most lords of Komawara’s acquaintance would be completely overextended in an endeavor such as this, yet Shonto seemed to proceed as though nothing in his life had changed. He has an excellent and loyal staff, Komawara thought, not all lords could say this. I have the good fortune of the same blessing, I thank Botahara and my father’s wisdom.
A member of the Komawara House Guard cleared his throat behind his young lord. Komawara looked over his shoulder.
“The sampan is here, lord.”
He walked, on newly caulked planks, across the deck to the waiting boat. Crewman gathered amidships to raise the single sail, for a fair wind had come up aft of the beam and the oarsmen would get a rest. Two sailors lowered a ladder over the side and held it in place for him. Their muscled torsos glistened from the labor of rowing and Komawara had no doubt that they would take his weight with ease.
A small boat, manned by Shonto House Guards, lay alongside the barge and Komawara clambered down to it with characteristic agility. The Shonto guards and the crewmen who bowed as he passed, knew him, though he was not aware of it—the son of the swordsman, they thought as he passed. Yet he appeared young to all of them, with that wiriness and length of limb one expected in a colt. But he is the son of the father, the guards thought. What a man to have had as swordmaster! And then there were the duels. Young Komawara was known for the duels he had won—several already—and it was said he feared no one.
Oblivious to all this, Komawara took his place in the boat feeling somewhat uncomfortable. The role of Shonto ally was disconcerting to him. His awe of Shonto Motoru was too great for him to see himself as in any way necessary to the Shonto purpose. Somehow it all seemed like a mistake that would soon be discovered. Perhaps this thought, which he realized was entirely without honor, was what made him apprehensive about meeting with Shonto.
Sculling up through the line of boats, the guards came skillfully alongside a large, ornate barge. Komawara stepped out onto the boarding platform and the guards there bowed to him with respect. It was strange the way the soldiers could do that, Komawara thought. A person of rank would receive a bow that was flawlessly polite, but a person of equal rank who was also a fighter would receive a bow that unquestionably conveyed more respect, yet Komawara could not say how it differed. He only knew that it was so.
Mounting the stairs to the main deck Komawara began to loosen the strings that held his scabbard in his sash, but as he reached the deck he met Shonto’s steward Kamu, and the old man gestured to Komawara’s sword.
“My lord asks that you wear your sword, Lord Komawara,” he said bowing formally.
Komawara bowed equally in return. “I wear it always for his protection, Kamu-sum.”
Kamu’s face registered his approval. “Lord Shonto asks that you join him on the quarter deck, Sire.”
Komawara nodded and followed the steward to the barge’s stern where he could see Shonto sitting under a silk awning. The lord bent over a low table, brush in hand, and his secretary knelt in attendance to his right. The rattle of armor as guards bowed to Komawara caused Shonto to look up and his face creased into a smile of warmth.
“Lord Komawara, I am honored that you join me.”
Bowing with formality, the two lords made the polite inquiries their strict etiquette required. Cha was served and the lords amused themselves by watching children on the barge behind as they threw scraps to the crying gulls. Only the occasional offering would land in the water, so quick of wing were the small, river birds.
The mid-morning sun was warm, casting a soft, autumn light over the lush countryside. Leaves drifted south in procession on flowing waters, as the flotilla made its way slowly north. A swift Imperial messenger swept by, the powerful oarsmen sending it shooting ahead with each stroke of their long, curved blades.
Shonto watched the messenger glide by. They report our progress to the Emperor, he thought, knowing that the farther from the capital he traveled, the closer he came to the Emperor’s purpose.
“Will fourteen days see us in Seh, Lord Komawara?”
“If the winds remain fair, Sire. But we must expect at least some delay from the Butto-Hajiwara feud.”
Shonto nodded. “Delay, yes,” and he gestured to a guard who placed a tightly rolled scroll on the table before them. Shonto examined the seal carefully before breaking it and then spread the thick paper across the table. It was a detailed map of the area disputed by the warring families. All of the fortifications were drawn in, as well as the troop placements and the strengths of each garrison.
“If it is not an imposition, Lord Komawara, I would ask you to look at this map and verify its details to the best of your ability. Please, do not hurry.”
Komawara bent over the map, examining each placement, each notation. He searched his memory and asked for the help of Botahara. Finally he raised his eyes from his task. �
�It seems to be correct in every detail, Lord Shonto.”
Shonto nodded, “It was made up from the combined information of several spies.” He rolled the map again and it was taken by a guard. “The words of spies should never stand without verification.”
Lunch was served and this brought to Komawara’s mind thoughts of Lady Nishima gracefully serving cha. The conversation strayed through an array of subjects before settling on the lords of Seh and how those of note would react to Shonto’s arrival. It was a topic that Shonto and his advisors had discussed almost endlessly, but they knew that it was all speculation—nothing was sure.
Aware of the secretary who knelt beyond the awning, obviously waiting, Lord Komawara excused himself as soon as he could politely do so.
Shonto watched him go, watched the way the young lord carried himself. He will be tested severely within the year, Shonto thought, though he did not know where the thought came from.
From his sleeve pocket Shonto removed a small scroll that had come that morning, smuggled through the disputed area by a Shonto soldier disguised as a fish buyer. He unrolled it and again read the strong hand of his son. The words themselves were innocent enough. It was the message within, the message in one of the Shonto ciphers, that concerned the lord. There were two sentences that begged his attention again: “The Butto-Hajiwara feud is stable, the lines of battle have not changed in several months—I do not anticipate any problem there,” and, “The barbarian problem is, as you expected, comparatively minor and the reports you received about large buildups on the border are certainly false.”
Shonto read the characters again: “…the lines of battle have not changed in several months…” The feud was stable. So what do they wait for? Shonto wondered. Do they wait for the other to make a mistake or is it something else altogether? Do they wait for Shonto? And if so is it the Butto or the Hajiwara, or both, that I must fear? “I do not anticipate any problem there.” Which, in cipher, meant BEWARE.
The Initiate Brother Duology Page 19