The Initiate Brother Duology

by Russell, Sean

  The steps to the cabin were steep and difficult, but the training of the Sisterhood had given her suppleness and strength beyond that of most inhabitants of Wa. Not using even a hand for balance, she descended with ease. She tapped on the screen to their cabin, but there was no response. Sliding the shoji quietly, she entered the darkened room. Sister Morima lay in a low bed, set against one wall. Tesseko could hear her labored breathing.

  “Sister Morima?” Tesseko said as she crossed the room. But there was no response. She set the tray on a small, fixed table, and knelt beside the bed.

  “Sister Morima?” she said again a bit louder, but still there was only the sound of the Sister’s breathing. She felt the nun’s brow and found it hot and clammy. Poor Sister Morima, she thought. It was then that she noticed that her superior was dressed in her outer robe, she could see her shoulder protruding from beneath covers. Has she been out of bed? Tesseko wondered. I should have been here to assist her.

  The young Acolyte moved away, deciding to let the nun sleep, and was about to rise when something assailed her nostrils. She turned her head to each side, testing the air for the source of the odor. This cannot be, she thought. It seemed to come from under the low table. She bent down to look and could not believe the evidence of her eyes! There, pushed out of sight, was a plate, and on it the remains of a meal of flesh! Bones and pieces of disgusting fat. Acolyte Tesseko felt immediately ill. May Botahara save her, she thought, Sister Morima has eaten of the flesh of an animal! She turned and fled from the cabin.

  * * *

  The boatmen guided the sampan with deft strokes, moving it quickly against the canal’s current. Acolyte Tesseko sat in the prow watching the large junks and river barges as the sampan glided past them. It was another fine day in what seemed like an endless autumn. She breathed the spiced air in careful rhythm, as her instructors had taught her, forcing a calm over her body and mind. Acolyte Tesseko had been distraught, almost in a panic, since her discovery of the day before. Now she felt closer to being at peace. She was aware of the slight time-stretch that the Sisters spoke of, felt the chi-flow in her body. She wondered again if it was true that the Brothers had mastered their sense of subjective time?

  This brought her back to the reason that she was aboard the sampan and shook the feeling of confidence she was trying to create, for the truth was, she was not sure that what she was about to do was correct. But were they not both followers of the Great Way? She could not believe that this young monk, Lord Shonto’s Spiritual Advisor, was evil, as the Sisters said all Brothers were. Her instincts had told her immediately that he was good, a follower of the True Faith. Some of the Sisters believed that this strife between the Sisterhood and the Brotherhood went against the teaching of Botahara, for the struggle was centered on power, and the followers of Botahara renounced all claim to power as they renounced property and the desires of the flesh.

  The desires of the flesh, well, she must not think of those. (Glory to the Seven Paths, glory.)

  If what these Sisters believed was true, then it would be correct for her to speak with this Brother—whose name, she must remember, was Shuyun.

  And besides, Tesseko realized, there was no one else she could discuss her problem with. Who else was there who understood the divine secrets of the human body? Sister Morima, in her few lucid moments, absolutely refused to be taken off the junk (they must get to Seh!) and there were no other Botahist Sisters in the flotilla. What I do is correct. In my soul I do not doubt.

  They came abreast of the Imperial Governor’s barge and Acolyte Tesseko was allowed to wait on the boarding platform while a guard went to find Shonto’s steward.

  It took only a moment for the guard to return, accompanied by a one-armed old man. He bowed to her formally.

  “I am Kamu, Steward of Lord Shonto Motoru. Excuse our precautions, Sister, but is it true that you wish to see Lord Shonto’s Spiritual Advisor?” He said this calmly, as though he were merely verifying information. He showed no surprise at the request.

  “Please, Steward Kamu, it is most important.”

  He said nothing for a few seconds but then asked, “May I tell Shuyun-sum the reason that you wish to see him?” When he saw the pained expression on her face he raised his hand. “I will speak with him.” He disappeared onto the deck and left Tesseko in the company of the Shonto guards who, though stationed to watch her, seemed to be staring off at something in the distance, as was only polite.

  A moment later Kamu reappeared. “Please, Sister, would you come with me?” He gave the guards a hand signal that the nun memorized. She would report it to her superiors. They recorded these things and, over a period of years could sometimes break a family’s code altogether.

  She crossed the deck in Kamu’s wake and followed him to the bow. Out of a hatch emerged the monk she had spoken to in the town. He nodded to Kamu, who bowed respectfully.

  “Acolyte Tesseko, I am honored that you visit me. Perhaps this is a sign of what will happen in the future between our faiths.” He bowed politely and she returned his gesture.

  “Perhaps, Brother Shuyun, though I must tell you that I am here on my own initiative, not on behalf of my Order.”

  Shuyun nodded and motioned to the bow area where they could speak in privacy. He leaned against the low rail and regarded the Acolyte. She was fine of form, he thought, and tall. Under the flat, conical hat, her eyes were guarded, she seemed to be suppressing agitation. She had not yet mastered the technique that would allow her to do this, for he could see tension there, in the tightening of the skin around the eyes and the redness of the tear ducts.

  “Would you care for cha, Acolyte Tesseko?” he asked, following the etiquette of the situation.

  “It is kind of you to offer, Brother, but I have other duties and can only speak with you briefly.”

  He sensed the urgency in her voice. “Perhaps it would be best if we did away with formality, and spoke openly, Acolyte Tesseko.”

  “I agree, that would be best.” She took a breath in preparation but could not begin the speech she had rehearsed. Suddenly, she wondered if what she was doing was right.

  “If it will make it easier, Acolyte Tesseko, I will swear by the Perfect Master that your words will not go beyond me.”

  She nodded. “I have come for advice, Brother, medical advice. I travel with a senior Sister who is very ill. I have not seen these symptoms before, Brother, I am most distressed.”

  “She would not consent to see me?”

  “No, it is out of the question.” She put a hand to the rail and turned to stare off across the canal.

  “Can you describe these symptoms, Acolyte?”

  “She is fevered, often at night. But in the day she seems distant, as though she were in the grip of fever, yet she is not. She eats, some days, in excess, while other days she cannot bear the sight of food. All of her behavior is uncharacteristic. I am not sure what should be done, Brother.”

  “It is unfortunate that she will not see me. Is there anything else you can tell me.”

  Tesseko looked off into the distance again, watching a swallow play with a feather. The tension around her eyes increased, and Shuyun wondered if she would be able to go on.

  “There are other things…Brother. She speaks in her deliriums. She frightens me.”

  “Frightens you, Acolyte?”

  “She says things that—it is only her illness—but these things endanger her spirit. They must. And Sister Morima is such an enlightened woman.”

  Sister Morima! Shuyun remembered her—the large nun in the Supreme Master’s audience hall. (“Have you learned to stop the sand, Initiate?”) Yes, he knew her, knew that she had been selected to witness the Ceremony of Divine Renewal.

  “Tell me of these things, Acolyte, it may be important.”

  “I…I cannot repeat them, Brother, they are blasphemous.”

  “Can you tell me something of their nature without repeating them, Acolyte?”

  “She speaks of the
Word of Lord Botahara, the actual written Word.”

  “I know that she attended the Ceremony of Divine Renewal, Acolyte Tesseko.”

  She nodded but continued to look away. “She says—she seems to say that the words of Botahara are not his words.”

  “She seems to say this? What do you mean.”

  “Over and over she repeats,” the Acolyte half covered her mouth with her hand, “‘lies! all that we have learned is lies!’” Tesseko closed her eyes tightly for a moment. “There is more. Sometimes in the darkness she yells: ‘These are not the words of truth! These are not our Lord’s words!’ I cannot say any more. I am most concerned, Brother.”

  “Yes,” Shuyun said, and it was almost a whisper. She had started now, she would not stop until she had told all.

  “When she eats, she gorges herself, entirely without discipline, and sometimes—I don’t know where she gets it—she eats flesh, Brother!”

  She covered her face completely now. Her shoulders shook, but there were no sobs. Shuyun let her cry, he had no experience in comforting women, and he was afraid anything he said would cause her embarrassment. The monk did not show the shock that he felt. A Sister eating the flesh of animals! It said so much. He felt a deep sense of revulsion.

  Acolyte Tesseko regained her self-possession, though her hands still shook and she tried to hide them. “Pardon me, Brother, I do not deserve your respect after this display of weakness.”

  “Please, do not think of yourself this way. It must be difficult to see a Sister behaving in this manner. I am honored that you would choose to come to me with this. You must feel no shame.

  “What you have described to me, Acolyte Tesseko, I have heard of before. I believe that Sister Morima suffers a crisis of the spirit. Her apparent illness is only a reflection of her inner sufferings. Why this is . . ?” he shrugged, “It seems to be connected with seeing the scrolls of Botahara. Perhaps she was not properly prepared for such an experience.

  “You must not leave her, Acolyte, but word must be sent to your Order. They must know as soon as it can be arranged—a messenger tomorrow at the next stop. Do you have a cipher?”

  Tesseko nodded.

  “Good. Keep this as secret as possible. And you must stop her from eating flesh! Shame her if you must. Tell her everyone aboard speaks of it as scandal. It may well be the truth.

  “Tell me what herbs you have given her.” He saw how she hesitated. “It does not matter. I will tell you what I would treat her with and you may make a decision from that knowledge. In all likelihood what you have given her would be the same. Root of menta, steamed not boiled, mixed with tomal. Every fourth hour will be often enough. But it would be even better if you could convince her to meditate and to do chi exercises. How far north do you travel, Acolyte Tesseko?”

  Again she hesitated, which he found strange. “We go to Seh, Brother.”

  “Then perhaps you should send a message ahead also. Your Sisters will know what to do, I would not fear. If you need to speak with me again, I will leave word with the guard to allow you through.”

  Tesseko bowed to him, formally. “I am indebted to you, Brother. I must return to Sister Morima now.” She turned to go but stopped and smiled at him over her shoulder. “I thank you for your counsel, Brother Shuyun, it has been an honor meeting you.”

  He watched her go, a tall young woman in the yellow robe of the Botahist Sisters. He tried to make his mind address this new information but he could not.

  The Scrolls, he thought. The Scrolls of our Lord! The Sacred Scrolls.

  All of his years of training, and yet his mind refused to focus.

  Thirteen

  A moth in the dark,

  Searching among the mulberry leaves,

  And honor is so

  Easily lost.

  Jaku Tadamoto

  THE WALK OF Inner Peace was a long, covered hall, open along one side, high in the Palace of the Emperor. It looked east, over the vast gardens, toward the distant hills, with their large temples and monasteries—white walls stark against the dark green. Jaku Tadamoto strode along the walk, his keen mind examining the latest information he had received. His brother Katta surprised even him with his audacity. This report of the Imperial Guard Captain who had interfered with Lady Nishima, it had the signature of Jaku Katta brushed upon it. He shook his head in disbelief.

  The Lady Nishima! What was his brother thinking? It could not be an alliance with the Shonto, that would be unthinkable. The Shonto were too strong. Katta would not take the chance of having allies to whom he would be secondary. It was something else, something more.

  It was this “something more” that frightened him. The Jaku had risen beyond anyone’s most secret hopes, did that fool Katta wish to endanger this now? Tadamoto increased his pace. In his sleeve he carried a written report from Katta to the Emperor. It seemed to lay there, heavy with purpose, waiting.

  It was very early morning, too early for the great numbers of people who, each day, sought time to stroll the Walk of Inner Peace. Jaku Tadamoto was surprised, therefore, to see a solitary figure, half hidden by a column, near the far end of the walk. Golden robe, rich material (as all material worn in the palace was rich). A woman, he decided. A Lady of the Court, returning from an assignation? A courtesan who had pleased the Emperor? He walked on. But then, as he drew closer, his heart lifted. He recognized her—Osha, the Emperor’s Sonsa dancer!

  He approached so quietly that he startled her.

  “Oh, Tadamoto-sum,” she put her hand to her heart, “I was so far away.”

  He bowed to her. “I apologize for destroying your harmony, Osha-sum. I was surprised to find anyone here at this hour and was most inconsiderate of your presence.”

  She smiled at him, a lovely smile, though somehow full of cares. “Please, do not apologize. I am honored to have your company, it is so seldom that we speak.” She held his eye for a second and then turned to the view over the grounds. She seemed to be inviting him to share this with her. Looking up and down the hall, Tadamoto moved to the low wall beside her.

  Wisps of cloud still glowed faintly with the colors of the dawn.

  “Is it not beautiful?” Osha asked.

  “It is,” he agreed.

  “But so brief.” She did not look at him. “Why is it that things of great beauty seem to come into this world for only an instant?”

  Tadamoto shook his head. “To remain always a rarity, is that not part of their beauty?”

  She turned to him then, seeming to search his eyes for the source of these words. “I can see why the Emperor values you so, Tadamoto-sum.”

  He nodded modestly, embarrassed by her flattery. Yet she had said this so strangely, with such an emphasis on “you.”

  She turned back to the scene which spread out below them, the vibrant colors of autumn scattered among the greens and browns. She seemed sad somehow, and this pulled at Tadamoto’s heart. He wanted to take her in his arms to comfort her, but he knew he dared not. A sound almost caused him to whirl around, but it was only a dove cooing softly.

  “Does our Emperor seem…distant to you, Tadamoto-sum?” she asked suddenly. The moods of the Emperor were a highly sensitive subject, and Tadamoto was honored that she would trust him enough to ask.

  “I have not found him so.”

  “Ah,” she said, and nodded, “I have wondered.”

  She glanced back along the hall herself now, but still no one was there. “Tadamoto-sum, there is something I need to discuss with you. I would not ask you if I did not know how loyal you are to our Emperor.”

  “Of course.”

  “But we cannot talk here.” She looked behind her again. “Could you meet with me? Do I ask too much?”

  “You could not ask too much of me,” he said.

  “There is a place in the east wing. A Hanama shrine to Botahara. No one goes there now.” She turned to him then, her eyes full of anguish. “Tonight, could you come tonight?”

  He nodded, saying n
othing.

  “The hour of the owl,” she whispered and suddenly brushed by him and was gone. He was left with the touch of her hand on his arm and the memory of silk brushing against him. His heart beat out his excitement.

  Why did she wish to meet him? Was it truly something to do with the Emperor? Or did she wish only to meet with Jaku Tadamoto? He prayed that it was so—and that it was not so.

  * * *

  Her hands shaking with the danger of what she had just done, Osha slipped quietly into her own rooms. Cracking a screen on the far side of the room she said, “cha,” to an unseen maid. To stop her hands from trembling, she clasped them to her breast.

  What choice do I have? she asked herself, what choice?

  She dropped her knees to a pillow. The Emperor was growing cold toward her. She put her hands to her face. It was all so sudden. Only three days ago he had seemed totally enamored of her. She shook her head. “I don’t understand!” she whispered. Was it because the Empress would soon return from the Summer Palace? It could not be. He hated her openly, Osha knew. She had seen the way the Empress tried to keep her hold on him. She was a woman without dignity.

  This will never happen to me, she told herself. But she was not convinced. Osha was aware of how far a mistress of the Emperor could fall when she earned his disfavor. Earned!! What had she done to earn his disfavor? Nothing, she said, he has simply grown tired of me, as he did of the others before me. I thought I would be different. I thought I could hold him. A sob escaped her, but she fought the tears.

  A maid entered with cha, but Osha sent her away as soon as the hot liquid was poured. She wanted to be alone.

  This is more than love-pain, she told herself. With whom would she dance when it became known that she was in disfavor with the Emperor? What troupe would risk offending the Son of Heaven by presenting him with someone he did not wish to see?

  “I was a fool!” she said aloud, surprising herself with the outburst. She sipped slowly to calm her nerves.