Lord Shonto’s archers had controlled the hills since the barbarian army had started down the road, and though many of the bowman were gone now the barbarians were still quite reluctant to venture far from their road.
From out of the foliage ahead one of Komawara’s several guides appeared, trotting at the pace they never seemed to vary. The lord was sure these men could run like that all day without signs of strain. The man stopped, leaning on his bow, waiting for Komawara to approach. A huntsman by trade, he was typical of his type, tall, lean, and sinewy. There was an air of the forest creature about this man. Even now the lord realized that the guide had stopped where anyone but Komawara would find him hard to see among trees and bushes.
Bowing quickly the man almost whispered, “There is a glade with a stream and new spring grass less than a rih distant. It will be a good place to refresh the horses.” Looking around with the air of a wary animal he went on. “There are signs of barbarian patrols coming into the forest ahead. They are small in number, however. If we see them, we will make them believe Lord Shonto’s bowmen are still here in force.” A smile flashed and was gone. “Tomorrow we will be through the hills, but the danger will be greater then, for a time. The barbarians control the lands immediately beyond the hills, now. We will need to have rested horses to travel quickly. If Botahara smiles upon us, we will be back with Lord Shonto’s fleet in three days.” The smile flashed again.
“What of Captain Rohku?” Komawara asked. “Is there no sign of him?”
The man looked down as he shook his head. “None yet, Sire, though there is no reason we should cross the captain’s track. The hills,” he waved at the trees, “spread over many rih and it is no doubt Captain Rohku’s intention to avoid detection.”
Komawara nodded. “Lead us to the glade, then. Our horses are in need.”
They pressed on. Komawara called a retainer forward and sent him to check on the wounded—so many had been victims of their injuries since the retreat. A second man he sent down the column to inform Jaku Katta of their pending rest. The Guard Commander stayed close to his men and showed great concern for the injured. It gained him much respect and loyalty.
Despite the losses Komawara did not think they had spent lives unwisely in their raid on the supply rafts. It had been impossible to destroy the entire train with such a small force, for there had been many more rafts than Komawara had believed possible. Still, they had acquitted themselves well. Even Jaku Katta had paid him a compliment when the attack was over, not something Komawara had expected.
After Komawara’s force had reached the relative security of the hills, he had listened with some surprise to the reports of the men who had destroyed rafts. Much that the rafts carried was not grown in the desert: grains, rice, corrapepper, dried fish. Many of these foods could have originated only on the islands of the southern barbarians, which unsettled Komawara. Despite the common pejorative, these two races had nothing in common. Komawara would have guessed them barely aware of each other’s existence—two non-seafaring peoples separated by a wide ocean. Impressive what gold and the ships of pirates could obtain—if, indeed, it had been pirates. He remembered Lord Kintari.
The sound of running water mixed with the sound of the Plum Blossom Wind, wafting through the trees. The forest was more than half pine here, mixed with plane trees and slip maple. The scent of the trees was strong. Unfolding leaves waved in the soft breeze, dappling the sunlight where it touched the forest floor. The paper white of birch trees appeared and beyond them Komawara could see the sun green of spring grass. It was a bigger pasture than Komawara expected and spoke of itinerant herdsmen; there was likely a hut concealed nearby.
The huntsman stopped at the edge of the glade until he received a signal that the lord never heard. “It is secure here, Lord Komawara. There is grass like this on either side of the brook, both up and down stream. It will mean spreading your company out but there is pasture enough for each horse.”
“The woods are free of barbarians, you are certain?”
The huntsman nodded.
“Then we will do as you suggest. The animals need to graze or they will never manage this last sprint you speak of.” He turned and gave the command.
One of the Hajiwara men who had taken service with Komawara took his lord’s horse and led it off to drink and feed. Komawara walked across soft grass to the stream and bent stiffly to drink and fill his water skin before the creek was muddied by horses. He jumped heavily to the other bank, feeling the weight of his armor as he landed.
Finding a fallen tree on the far side of the glade, Komawara sat and pulled his helmet off. He ran a hand through his hair, much of which had grown back since Shuyun’s ministrations in the desert. Sweat and the weight of his helmet plastered it tightly to his brow and the lord suddenly longed for a bath.
The coolness of the air and the warmth of the sun were like the differing flavors of a complex wine, opposing but complementary. Slipping down to the ground, Komawara leaned back against the log, closing his eyes against the brightness of the sky.
He was not sure how long he rested like that, nor if he even slept for a second, but suddenly he was aware that the sun no longer warmed him. A cloud, Komawara thought, but then the sound of a man clearing his throat reached him. His eyes flicked open almost involuntarily.
“General Jaku.”
The guardsman bowed. “Excuse me for interrupting you, Lord Komawara.”
“Do not apologize, General.” Komawara struggled into a more upright position. “I managed to fill my water skin before the hordes, General Jaku, please.” He proffered the water to the guard.
Jaku nodded and accepted the water. Returning the skin to Komawara, the guardsman sat down on the log and followed the lord’s example, pulling off his helmet. “Three days, I have been informed? Do you think Lord Shonto will have moved his fleet again?”
The lord pulled a burr off the lacing of his armor and rolled the spines gently between his forefinger and thumb. “It seems most likely, General. The barbarians move slowly, but Lord Shonto will not risk his army. It may be the Empire’s only hope.”
“It is sadly true,” Jaku observed dryly. “Though the Emperor raises an army, it is impossible to predict what he will do with it—and I know the Emperor.” Jaku produced a square of cotton and wiped his face and neck with it.
The same huntsman Komawara had spoken to earlier appeared out of the trees twenty paces off, looked around and then spotted the lord. Trotting over, he dropped to his knees and bowed so as not to stand above the seated peer. When he spoke, the man’s voice quavered slightly.
“Sire, we have discovered…something of great concern.” He gestured to the forest behind him, words failing him. “Close by.”
Komawara glanced at Jaku, questions unspoken. Signaling to his guard, the lord waved the huntsman on and he and Jaku fell in behind. Walking through the spring woods filled with the sounds of birds Komawara felt suddenly cold. He did not know what had been found, but the huntsman’s reaction was not reassuring.
As the tracker had said, it was not far. The perfume of the spring forest was replaced by a sudden stench and flies buzzed up, agitated by the presence of people. The huntsman stopped, saying nothing. At his feet lay a corpse, belly down, stripped naked, its head severed. Stubs of three broken arrows protruded from the throat and shoulder.
“There are more,” the huntsman said, making a sign to Botahara.
“Who?” Komawara whispered.
Shrugging the huntsman stepped away, covering his mouth and nose. “Not barbarians, certainly.”
Twenty feet away lay two men who had been felled and mutilated also. The grass and bushes nearby had been well trampled, perhaps by a struggle. A horse without saddle or bridle was found, its head twisted at an improbable angle.
Several of the huntsman’s company could be seen searching the bush, stopping now and then as they discovered another corpse.
“Captain Rohku’s company,” Jaku said qui
etly to Komawara, “or some of it.”
Komawara nodded. “No doubt you are correct. This man wore armor often.” The lord pointed to familiar marks on the man’s shoulders. He waved the huntsman over. “Hide men behind us. Be certain we are not pursued.”
The huntsman nodded. “What shall we do for these?” He waved at the ground around him.
Komawara turned in a slow circle, examining the area. “Leave them to the forest.”
“Sire,” the man started to protest but was silenced by a cold stare.
“There will be many more like these before this war is over, and we will not be able to perform ceremonies for one in a thousand.” He looked down. “May Botahara have mercy on their souls.”
Forty-one
THOUGH HE WAITED to speak with the Emperor of all of Wa, Jaku Tadamoto had not yet decided what he would say to the Son of Heaven. Perhaps the glimpse he had caught of a woman leaving the wing of the Emperor’s apartments had unsettled Tadamoto more than he realized, though he was not at all sure it had been Osha. The woman had appeared briefly down a long hall, her hair in an elaborate style, ornate robes of canary yellow—a color Osha despised and the Emperor loved. But she had moved with such ease….
Tadamoto felt like he was drowning in deep sadness, unable to focus his will sufficiently to stroke to the surface. Things of the greatest import hardly drew his attention. What would be said and left unsaid in this audience with the Emperor was crucial, he knew, yet that knowledge did not seem to galvanize his energies. Despondency was what Tadamoto felt, and his famed intellect did not seem able to exert control over his other faculties.
Through the screens Tadamoto could hear the Emperor’s voice as he spoke to some official. From where Tadamoto waited, he heard brief silences in which, presumably, the official spoke and this made Tadamoto wonder if he was equally quiet when addressing the Emperor. It was a strange thing to listen to, as though half of the dialogue was silence.
Tadamoto turned a scroll he carried, examining it carefully as though he would suddenly be able to assess its impact in the meeting to come. Would the Son of Heaven respond as the young officer hoped? If the Emperor’s greed was caught by the information in the scroll, he might forget to ask when the Imperial Guard had found Lord Shonto’s vassal-merchant—if the answer was not already known. Why have I played this foolish game with this merchant? Tadamoto asked himself.
The Emperor’s voice had not responded to the silence now for several minutes, and Tadamoto made a last attempt to focus his will. A secretary appeared and bowed to the guard officer, saying nothing. Rising, Tadamoto followed the old man through a bare anteroom. Double screens opened onto a terrace tiled with small stones and shards of porcelain forming a lotus blossom pattern. Beyond was the view north across the Dragon Pond toward the Mountain of the Pure Spirit.
Kneeling before the screens, Tadamoto waited to be announced. It was done so quietly that the officer did not hear. The Emperor’s mood must be dark.
At a signal, Tadamoto moved forward on his knees across grass mats that had been laid over the stones. On a small dais at one end of the terrace the Emperor sat under a silk awning. To his left the view stretched out toward the far mountains and to his right stood a small ornamental cherry, ancient despite its size and famous for the perfection of its shape. The Emperor tapped the tip of his sword on the edge of the dais, staring at neither view nor blossom—he scowled openly and his eyes were not focused on anything another could see.
Tadamoto touched his forehead to the mat.
“Be at your ease, Colonel,” the Emperor said, irritation lodged in his tone like a thorn.
Tadamoto returned to a kneeling position feeling anything but at ease.
“I am told the raising of our army proceeds apace, Colonel.” The Emperor gave a slight nod.
Tadamoto bowed in return. “The reports of Lord Shonto’s force would indicate he has fewer than twenty-five thousand men, Sire. Our force will equal that very soon.”
The Emperor nodded. He still tapped the dais with his sword. “Once Motoru reaches the inner provinces it is impossible to say who will join him. We must be prepared to face all manner of treachery, Colonel, or we will not even have the luxury of time to regret our mistakes.”
“Recruitment continues, Emperor. I’m confident we will raise an army of adequate numbers.”
“And no experience!” the Emperor shot back.
Tadamoto froze for a second. “We are training now, Sire,” he said quietly.
“At least our army will be no less battle ready than Shonto’s.”
Tadamoto pressed his eyes closed for an instant, then glanced out over the Dragon Pond and back to the mats in front of him.
The Emperor fixed the young scholar with a hard stare. “You have a scroll for me, I see.”
Tadamoto nodded.
“Not more news of pending disaster, I trust?”
Tadamoto lifted the scroll with both hands. “A complete, detailed list of all of the Shonto House holdings and properties.”
The Emperor stopped tapping the dais.
“We have taken the Shonto vassal-merchant into our custody,” Tadamoto said evenly.
“Tanaka?” the Emperor said with more than a trace of disbelief.
Tadamoto gave a half bow, keeping his eyes cast down. Leaning forward he set the scroll on the edge of the dais though the Emperor almost snatched it from his hands.
Breaking the seal with a thumbnail, the Emperor unrolled the paper and held it up to the light so that it hid his reaction. When he appeared again, his face was creased with delight. “This rebel general was once a very wealthy lord.” He waved a finger at the scroll. “Astonishing that his merchant could hide so much wealth!” He let the itemization fall back into his lap. “You are to be complimented, Tadamoto-sum. I will see that you are given,” he paused to think, “a fortieth of the Shonto wealth as a reward. But what else has this merchant said? What of Shonto’s plans?”
Tadamoto nodded, as though acknowledging the question though he was trying desperately to gather his thoughts. “I—I am honored by your generosity, Emperor.” He bowed low. “It is difficult to be sure what Tanaka knows about his lord’s intentions, Sire. I have spoken with him now on several occasions and I am not convinced Shonto has been as open with Tanaka as we had believed.”
The Emperor set the scroll aside and reached for his sword. “Perhaps a less gentle method of inquiry would produce the results we require, Colonel.”
“I…I hesitate to do so, Sire. I would rather gain his confidence and convince him with arguments.” An idea. “After the war is over, Tanaka will have no liege-lord. He would make a valuable addition to your staff, Sire.” Tadamoto gestured toward the scroll. “Imagine what such a man could do to increase the Imperial fortunes.”
The Emperor raised an eyebrow at this. “Is this possible? A Shonto retainer?”
“This list is an example, Sire—which, by the way, was done entirely from memory. Tanaka agreed to create this itemization after I had convinced him that such an act would not affect Lord Shonto, no matter what the outcome of the civil war. He is not a warrior, Sire. One can appeal to his intellect and see some result. It is also well known that he enjoys the trappings of wealth himself. Many a lord would be happy to live in this vassal-merchant’s home. When there is no Shonto House,” Tadamoto shrugged, “where will Tanaka’s loyalty lie?”
The Emperor looked out toward the Mountain of Divine Inspiration, lost in thought. “If you can win his willing service, Tadamoto-sum, I will double your reward, and more. But we cannot let him hide behind this.” The Emperor gestured to the scroll. “We desperately need to know what Motoru plans. Be certain this merchant is hiding nothing.”
Tadamoto bowed. Wealth…Tadamoto thought, enormous wealth…on the eve of civil war. The irony threatened to make him laugh. “I will spare no effort, Sire, be assured.”
The Emperor favored him with a controlled smile. “Is there more that I should hear, Tadam
oto-sum, or will we stop now, while the gods smile upon us?”
Tadamoto hesitated for a second and saw the Emperor’s face darken as he did so. “I have had reports from the north, Sire. Lord Shonto dammed the canal and flooded a large plain north of Fuimo. A barbarian force was certainly following close behind the men of Seh at that time.”
The Emperor stared hard at Tadamoto for a moment and then rose suddenly, causing the younger man to flinch visibly. Crossing the terrace, the Emperor descended a set of stairs. When all but his head had descended out of sight, the Emperor turned and nodded toward Tadamoto to rise and follow.
Waiting on another terrace, a level below, the Emperor stared off to the north and when Tadamoto caught him he set off again, Tadamoto in his wake. They descended another flight of stairs which put them on the lawn that ran down to the edge of the Dragon Pond. The Emperor walked toward the eastern wall of the palace where a complex hedge-maze stood, planted generations past and renewed and altered over the centuries.
The Emperor stopped before the entrance to the maze, waving Tadamoto ahead with his sword. “Colonel.”
Tadamoto stepped into the maze, not sure what was required of him, his mouth drying quickly. He walked down the path, the fall of the Emperor’s step close behind. The maze branched both left and right almost immediately and the guardsman continued straight, not knowing if he should have chosen one of the other paths.
“Have you been through the puzzle before, Colonel?”
Tadamoto shook his head, but before he could speak the Emperor went on.
“It is a most ingenious maze. Unlike others of the type it does not give up its secret easily. In fact, few find their way to the center. To unexpectedly arrive back at the beginning is the common experience or at one of the several gates which lead out. Turn right, Colonel.”
The Initiate Brother Duology Page 80