The Initiate Brother Duology (75 page)

O
SHA KNELT BEFORE a low table and, in the soft light of a lamp, went through the ritual of choosing between two perfumes. As each bottle was unstopped, she would take great care not to breathe while a dab was placed on her forearm. This would be allowed to evaporate appropriately before the delicate fragrance was inhaled. Although the entire ritual was enacted with eyes closed in apparent concentration, in truth, it was a sham. Osha could not truly focus her attention on the scents and she let her arms fall to her sides with a sigh—an act of resignation or despair.

Before she had opened the perfume, Osha had sent all her maids away so that they would not distract her, but the truth was she wanted to be alone to tie her sash. She looked at the gold brocade but could not bring herself to take it up.

The women had left with some reluctance, running a last comb through her long hair, rearranging the hem of a third under-kimono so it would be properly displayed. Although Osha was very careful not to reveal her feelings to her servants, it still made her sad that they were so unaware of her situation. Osha shook her head sadly. They were excited to see the Emperor’s renewed interest in their mistress, believing that this would make her happy.

Finally settling on a scent of ground conch shell, musk, and summer tulip, the Sonsa dancer carefully washed the other scent from her arm before dabbing tiny droplets behind her ears and on her wrists. Osha was circumspect in her use of perfume, unlike many of the women in the court. As a
Sonsa dancer she believed that beauty resided in movement—all else was unimportant.

The ritual completed, Osha took the long brocade sash that she had chosen to offset the pale green of her robes and laid it across her lap. Until this moment she had done so well, but suddenly her spirit sank like a stone through water. Taking deep breaths she mastered this moment of weakness. Sonsa dancers were trained to such control. Slowly winding the yards of fabric around her waist, Osha imagined that she bound her emotions inside with each turn.

A shoji slid aside somewhere down the hall and several sets of footsteps could be heard through the rice paper screens. The voices of Osha’s maids were quiet but, all the same, projected a note of urgency. Osha stopped the winding of her sash and cocked her beautiful head to listen. It was not urgency that she heard, it was
protest
and the footsteps were those of a man or men.

Immediately the dancer imagined the worst. It was an enraged Emperor coming to confront her with her infidelity. The shoji to her chamber banged open and Osha started as though struck. Tadamoto stood in the opening, tall among the protesting servants.

Collecting her wits, Osha waved the servants out and Tadamoto entered, dropping to his knees a few feet before her. The resolve he had shown forcing his way to her rooms disappeared and he slumped, staring down at the floor. He raised his eyes to hers as though he would speak, but no words came and his gaze returned to the floor.

Nor could Osha find words for the turmoil that Tadamoto’s arrival had sparked. They sat in silence for several minutes before Osha managed to form a few words.

“Tadamoto-sum,” she whispered, “you must not, you…you place us in the gravest danger.”

Tadamoto shook his head. The pain he felt was brushed in broad strokes across the features of his scholar’s face. Yet he did not speak.

“Tado-sum,” Osha whispered again, “I could not tell you.” She reached out to take his fine-boned hands, but he pulled them away and left her, half reaching out to him. She covered her face then and silent tears glistened on delicate fingers. “I thought he was finished with me. It was my dream that, in time, he would…not care about us.” She pushed small fists against her eyes.
“We have been so loyal!”

Tadamoto reached out as though he would comfort her but stopped.

“I wanted to tell you, Tadamoto-sum, but there are no words to describe the confusion in my heart.”

“How?” Tadamoto said at last. “How could you let this happen?”

Osha emerged from behind her hands now, tears still shining in her eyes. “Tado-sum,” she said so quietly he almost did not hear. “What did you imagine? Did you imagine that I could make a choice? That we have a choice?”

The young officer said nothing and she reached out to take his hands again, and again he pulled away.

“You could have chosen to refuse,” he said, his voice colder than he intended; it was almost a hiss.

When Osha answered, her voice sounded calm, with a touch of distance in it. “And what would have happened then?” When he did not answer she continued. “Could a member of the Jaku family visit me secretly in a monastery in Chou or Itsa Province? What would the Emperor say to that? I would have lost everything, Tadamoto-sum, my dance, my life here in the capital, and I would have lost you also. Do not deceive yourself. If I am sent to the outer provinces, it would be the end for us. There is no place where we could run, Tado-sum. You know this to be true.”

She reached out and took his hands now and he did not resist. “What other choice is there?” She tugged his hands gently, but still he would not meet her eyes. “Speak to me.”

“Osha, Osha-sum. You cannot…. You cannot.” He was unable to finish.

“Our only choice is to never see each other again. Tado-sum my love, I cannot make that choice. Can you?” When he did not speak, she went on. “He will tire of me soon. There is no doubt of that. As soon as he has recovered from this slight by the Omawara girl, he will have no more need of me. If you want to truly help, find a girl of high birth who is ambitious for her family and a great beauty as well. I am nothing to him, truly.” She paused. “And he is even less to me. Tado-sum?”

He looked up at her now.

“I know this is terrible, but…. Please, I would not do this thing if it were not for us.”

Osha pressed herself into his arms and he responded, pulling her close against him. He could feel the struggle as she tried not to sob. Life was so unfair to her, this tiny girl trapped by talent and beauty, and yes, by ambition,
too. Tadamoto buried his face in her hair. The delicate scent of her perfume was the greatest blow of all.

*   *   *

When he had gone, Osha sat staring at the lamp on her perfume table, watching the flame sway and dance to the will of imperceptible currents within the room. Taking the brocade in her hands she finished winding it and tied the Lover’s Knot with barely a second’s hesitation.

*   *   *

Later, in the chambers of the Emperor, Osha tried to focus on an image of Tadamoto. The Emperor was lost in his passion and held her tightly to him as he moved. To her horror, Osha felt her breath begin to come in short gasps. She heard a moan of pleasure, and the voice that uttered it was her own!

No,
she thought,
Jenna, Jenna, please…let me be.
But the voice cried out again, uncaring in its own pleasure.

“No, Jenna,” Osha whispered under her breath. “Oh, no. Oh…” But the protest was lost in a cry of passion that heeded no voice but its own.

S
HUYUN CAME EASILY to the Fifth Closure and altered his pattern. He had been practicing this same exercise now for several weeks though he had yet to achieve the results he desired. Jaku had tried to strike him thus: Shuyun moved through the complex pattern of punches and deflections as though the Black Tiger had returned to fight their bout again. Shuyun closed his eyes and concentrated on his memory, trying to find the same reaction in himself, trying to achieve the identical state.

Again he felt close, but yet it eluded him. Without hesitation he began the Fifth Closure and continued, practicing the broadening of his focus that would eventually include his entire musculature, the flow and precision of his movements, breath, and his meditative state. Far off, a rapping entered
his realm of consciousness. A pause and then it came again. Three punctures of his meditative state that echoed endlessly through his altered time sense.

He interrupted his exercise and stood calmly for a moment, adjusting his sense of time. The tapping came again, though they seemed short quiet raps now.

“Please enter.”

The shoji slid open to reveal a Shonto guard kneeling in the opening.

“Corporal?” Shuyun crossed toward the open screen so that any interchange would be as quiet as possible. The Governor’s Palace had too many ears by far.

“Excuse this interruption, Brother but you left instructions for this situation and Kamu-sum confirmed them.”

Shuyun waved this aside. “Please, Corporal, do not apologize.”

The guard gave a nodding bow. “On the Grand Canal you were visited by a young Botahist nun—Sister Tesseko?”

Shuyun nodded.

“A young woman is at our gate claiming to be this woman, though she is not dressed in the robes of her Order. She has requested a meeting with you, Brother Shuyun. Kamu-sum confirmed that you had left orders to interrupt you were this young woman to come again. She is waiting in the Spring Audience Hall. I hope we have acted correctly, Brother.”

Shuyun hid his surprise. “You have, thank you, Corporal. Please inform Sister Tesseko that I will join her in moments.”

There was not enough time to bathe, so Shuyun settled for washing in cold water and changing his robes. Acolyte Tesseko…He remembered her well—young, tall, the bearer of unsettling news. He had often wondered what had become of her charge, Sister Morima. Had she survived her crisis of the spirit? There was more than concern for the nun’s spiritual well-being at issue here; there was self-interest also and Shuyun knew it.

He finished dressing and left his chambers, passing down the halls quickly though somehow without seeming to hurry. The Spring Audience Hall was a small, simple room with a low dais, painted screens depicting spring in the mountains, and a simple shrine to Botahara set into a tiny alcove in the wall. The shrine was no doubt what had led the guard, or perhaps Kamu, to choose this hall for their meeting—that and the fact that the room was so seldom used.

Guards knelt on either side of the double wooden doors to the chamber.
They bowed as Shuyun approached, and with a quiet knock of warning they pushed open the doors.

Sister Tesseko looked up as Shuyun entered and her face seemed to register terrible grief. If not for a lifetime of training, the strength and immediacy of the woman’s pain would have drawn all of his attention, but as a follower of Botahara he was more affected by the fact that she sat with her
back
to the Shrine of the Perfect Master.

Shuyun stopped and gave the short double bow of the Botahist-trained. “Acolyte Tesseko, your visit honors me, as it does the House of my Lord.” He knelt a polite distance away.

The nun bowed. “I am no longer called Sister Tesseko, Brother. I am Shimeko, now.” She bowed again. “I thank you for your kind words, though I realize that, in truth, I have broken all convention and exhibit the worst possible manners coming here unannounced.”

“Shimeko-sum, I am honored that you would trust me enough to come without sending word, as I asked you to do when we traveled together on the Grand Canal. Please, be at your ease.” Shuyun paused to gauge her reaction, but she did not meet his eyes. “May I ask, how fares our Sister, Morima-sum?”

The young woman shrugged. “She has shown some improvement, Brother, though not as much as the Sisters had hoped.” She shrugged again.

There was a silence then, and Shuyun had an opportunity to study Shimeko while she stared down at the grass mats. She was dressed in the plainest cotton robes, like the wife of a poor merchant, and she covered her head with a rough woolen shawl. Her face was careworn and Shuyun thought she looked older than she had when they last met. There were other signs of great strain, for she was thin and her skin was mottled and lifeless as though her diet had been very poor for some time. Shuyun was concerned.

“Are you well, Sister?” he asked quietly.

She seemed to consider this for a second, a sad smile almost coming to her lips. “I am no longer a
Sister,
Brother Shuyun. I…I find I must keep reminding myself of this.” She fell silent again, then looked up and held his eyes for an instant. “The Way,” she said, returning her gaze to the floor, “is difficult. I-I had not the strength.”

Shuyun nodded slowly. “Ahh,” he said almost under his breath. “Is there some way that I may serve you, Shimeko-sum? Please do not hesitate to ask.”

The conversation was punctuated by a long silence then. “Brother…
Brother Shuyun, I have come to beg that I may be allowed to take service with you.” She put her hand to her mouth as though she would stop it from causing her more embarrassment.

Shuyun put the tips of his fingers together as in meditation. “Shimeko-sum, what you ask is not possible, I am sorry. This is not my decision to make. And certainly it would not be proper for a young woman to serve me. It is out of the question.” Shuyun watched her as he spoke but could not be sure of her reaction, for her face was partly hidden by her shawl. “Shimeko-sum? Why do you ask this?”