The Initiate Brother Duology (87 page)

The Emperor tapped the edge of the chest with his sword, raised the scabbard suddenly as if he would strike the edge, then stopped himself. “Find them,” the Emperor said to no one and, turning, scattered the officials before him.

Tadamoto stood for a moment, looking down into the empty chest. His gaze drifted back to the coins. He pushed one with his finger to uncover another—it bore the mark of a strange dragon.

“Colonel,” the Minister of the Left said, his voice jarring in the silent room, “these guards were best found quickly.”

Tadamoto thrust the bag and coins into the old man’s hands and stormed out. In the hall beyond he broke into an undignified trot. There was no doubt in his mind that there had been no theft. The chest and its contents were a message from Shonto—a declaration of war. Tadamoto had not received confirmation yet, but it was rumored that Shonto had published a tract offering gold for the service of armed men.

Civil war was all but inevitable. And what of this barbarian army? If Jaku told the truth, it would be more than civil war; it would be the war that ended the Empire. He went from a trot to a run.

*   *   *

The Great Audience Hall of the Empire was lit by only a half dozen lamps, spaced around its great perimeter, and the small light they provided appeared to be drawn into the hall’s vast darkness. It gave the chamber an eerie feel and distorted one’s sense of the space and distance. Tadamoto stood just inside a door to one side of the dais, waiting for his eyes to adjust. He could hear the sound of footsteps. They seemed to come toward him, then stop, then retreat again. Someone muttered—words he could not understand.

Staring into the gloom, Tadamoto was finally able to make out the silhouette of a man moving before the dais. He was unsure of what to do. After waiting in the dark for some minutes longer Tadamoto knelt down where he stood and waited until the footsteps approached and then stopped again.

“Emperor?” he said quietly.

The unmistakable sound of a sword being drawn from its scabbard.

“Sire? I have come with my report as you wished. It is Colonel Jaku.”

“Tadamoto-sum?”

“Yes, Sire. Please excuse my intrusion.”

“You are alone?” The voice came out of the dark.

“Yes, Sire.”

“Get up,” the Emperor commanded.

Jaku bowed to the darkness and rose to his feet.

“Come along,” the voice said.

Tadamoto walked toward the sound. The Emperor’s form materialized in the poor light. Tadamoto could see him returning his sword to its scabbard.

“Walk with us, Colonel.” At this the Emperor turned and started down the hall, his pace deliberate if not hurried. Halfway down the length of the great chamber the Emperor broke the silence.

“The Shonto guards are not to be found?”

“This is so, Emperor. It seems very likely that Shonto’s most senior retainers have slipped away also, though appearances are being kept up faithfully at their residences. I have failed….”

“The gods take them!” the Emperor interrupted. “I did not truly believe they could be found. They did not steal Seh’s taxes—their lord did.”

Tadamoto nodded. They came abreast of a lamp and he could see the Emperor’s face, strangely distorted by the half light. The eyes hidden in dark holes and the forehead standing out like a deformity. The young guardsman looked away.

This man touches the woman I love.

“I had hoped to avoid civil war,” the Emperor said softly. “I had so hoped to avoid it.

“Of course, Shonto will drive the Empire into this war. I should have realized.” His voice was sad as though he spoke of an errant child.

She spends her nights in his arms.

“We will have to raise an army now. If Shonto tries to split the Empire and establish himself in Seh, we will be forced to go north to fight. If the lord chooses to come south, we will let him come to us. Either way the Empire will pay a great price.”

They strode on until they came to the massive entrance doors where the Emperor changed course abruptly and started back toward the dais.

I have let this occur, frozen into inaction.

“Are preparations complete for sending the Prince north?”

Tadamoto fought the rage that swelled inside him. “They have been complete for some days, Sire,” he said tightly.

“Then he shall drag his feet no longer. Send him off even if you must use force.”

Tadamoto nodded again.

“And the Omawara. We watch them with great care?”

“Both by day and by night, Emperor.”

“Do not let them slip away, Colonel. I will have plans for them yet.”

They walked in silence to the foot of the Dragon Throne and then turned back. Half the length of the hall passed beneath their feet with nothing but the sounds of their footsteps and the hiss of the Emperor’s brocade robe along the stone. Occasionally the jeweled scabbard the Son of Heaven carried would catch the dim light, and it seemed he almost brandished it as though at an enemy.

“Sire…?” Jaku struggled to collect his thoughts.

“Speak your mind, Colonel,” the Emperor said with some impatience.

“Excuse me for saying so, Sire, but perhaps we play this game too openly.” He took a deep breath. “If we locate Shonto’s retainers and they are taken by Imperial Guards, no matter how carefully disguised, the Empire will soon know. We risk dividing the Great Houses.” Tadamoto glanced at the Emperor, but it was impossible to read his face in the low light. “There are other courses. We could announce that we raise an army to send north—the situation in Seh is not critical, but it is not what we originally thought. Of course, we will keep this army here under our control until we see what Shonto does. It will be a message for Shonto’s allies.”

Tadamoto could see the Emperor nodding. “But what of this gold we have received from Shonto?” The Emperor turned toward him in the dark. “You understand its significance, Tadamoto-sum?”

“I do, Sire.” They walked a few paces more. “We could send a message to Shonto saying we are confused by this. Certainly the Imperial Treasury should contribute to the efforts against the barbarians, but this action of Shonto’s staff is foolish in the extreme. Could not the governor look into this matter and tell us his province’s needs?”

The Emperor considered this. “Ah, Tadamoto, this is wisdom. Why do my other counselors not advise me so?” The Emperor slapped his palm with his scabbard. “We will do as you suggest, though Shonto’s retainers should be found if it is at all possible. I’m certain Tanaka could provide a wealth of information, and not just about his lord.”

They had walked the hall’s length and returned now to the foot of the throne.

“What of your brother? Has he written in return to your letter?”

“It may yet be too soon, Sire.”

“Ah.” The Emperor paced across the foot of the dais and then stopped.

“Begin to raise the army. My son will leave for the north immediately…to assist Shonto until our entire force can be made ready.” The Emperor mounted the steps and disappeared into the total darkness surrounding the Dragon Throne. Tadamoto heard him settle into the cushions.

“Prepare a letter for our governor,” said the voice in the darkness. “Tell him that we are confused by the action of his staff. Say we prepare an army as quickly as we can. Let him wonder what we plan, let him lie awake and wonder.

“Colonel,” there was real warmth in the Emperor’s voice now, “I shall reward you for this, reward you richly. Tell us your desire, Tadamoto-sum.”

Tadamoto knelt and bowed, his spirit sinking as he did so. “To serve my Emperor,” he forced himself to say, “that is my desire.”

This man….

“You are a man of honor, Tadamoto-sum, but I’m sure something can be found that will be worthy of you. We shall see.”

*   *   *

Tadamoto sat on the lowest step of the dais, brooding in the darkness. The Emperor had gone, leaving the young officer in a turmoil.

Osha, Osha,
he thought. He had not seen the dancer for several days, had been unable to face her, though he could not say why. It was one thing for him to be avoiding Osha, but now he began to believe that she was avoiding him as well.

We have come to this, he thought, two people who felt and thought as one.

Damn him! May all evil take his soul!

Tadamoto stood and walked along the step a few paces, then sat again. If nothing else, an army would be raised. If Katta had written anything near to the truth, then Tadamoto would feel he had done what he could. The Empire would not be entirely unprepared. And if Katta joined the Shonto in an attempt to overthrow the Yamaku…? Tadamoto put his face in his hands.

“Osha-sum,” he whispered, and the sound disappeared into the dark hall without an echo.

T
HE IMPERIAL GOVERNOR’S Palace was a riot of preparations and though most of the people involved, beyond Shonto’s own staff, thought the governor was mad, they were not allowed to let this feeling be reflected in their work. Shonto’s retainers made sure of that.

Shuyun found himself with little to do, for he had no specific responsibilities other than to advise his lord when required. Lord Shonto’s staff were masters at logistics, so advice from an Initiate Brother, who owned almost nothing and had moved only twice in his short life, was highly unnecessary.

The day was comparatively mild, but a strong wind blew out of the west, whipping up and pushing at Shuyun where he moved along the top of the palace wall. He had walked the perimeter of the Imperial Palace atop its various sections of wall and through its towers for no other reason than to be out in the air after all the hours spent in the palace during the winter. Though it seemed to indicate lack of Enlightenment, Shuyun could feel his spirit lift with each step.

The palace sat atop a low rise on the city’s eastern edge, the highest point on the natural island that formed the anchor of Rhojo-ma. Much of the rest of the city sat upon manmade islands built on a rock shelf that lay just under the lake’s surface. The palace’s position hardly offered a high vantage, but it afforded some views that were worth contemplating and Shuyun had stopped at each of these.

Below, Shuyun saw two guards in Shonto blue who looked up and pointed
in his direction, then one of them began to make his way at a trot toward nearby stairs. Lord Shonto must have sent for his Spiritual Advisor, the monk thought, and increased his pace.

“Brother…Shuyun.” The guard puffed to the top of the stairs, holding his sword hilt as he ran. “There has been a missive left for you.” He bowed. “My corporal was not sure of its urgency, so he sent me immediately.”

Shuyun gestured down the stairs. “Please, I will follow.”

They did not have far to go, for the guard led the way to a nearby gate that opened into the streets beyond the palace—quiet streets. Guards bowed as the governor’s Advisor approached and the few pedestrians who passed by stepped aside. Inside the gate house the corporal the guard had spoken of bowed low to Shuyun.

“Excuse me for interrupting your contemplation, Brother, but I thought this might be of importance.”

The corporal’s name was Rohku; Shuyun had met his father during his brief time in the capital. He took from a table what appeared to be a scroll wrapped in plain gray paper and handed it to the monk.

Shuyun nodded his thanks. It was not a missive, certainly, for there was no stamp of his Order upon it.

Corporal Rohku bobbed in a second bow—the story of Shuyun’s confrontation with the young Lord Toshaki had made its way down through Shonto’s guard, and it brought even greater respect to the monk. “It was delivered by a Botahist Brother.”

Shuyun turned it over and found a wax seal with a name-character impressed in it.

Hitara.

Shuyun felt his time sense stretch as though he practiced chi ten, yet he did not.

“How long ago?” Shuyun asked, his mouth suddenly dry.

“Moments, Brother Shuyun, only moments.”

“Did you see the direction he set out in?”

“Toward the market streets….”

Shuyun placed the scroll in his hands. “Guard this,” he ordered and then was out the door at a run before the corporal could protest.

“Follow him,” Rohku snapped. “He is not to leave the palace without an escort.”

The young guard set out at a run but was soon outdistanced by the small
monk. By the time he reached the market streets, Shuyun was lost from sight.

Shuyun ran.

“A Botahist Brother? Did he pass?” he yelled at a peasant leading a mule. The man nodded and pointed down a narrow side street. Shuyun ran on, increasing his pace.

At the next meeting of streets he asked again and was directed left. Then right. Then up a flight of stairs and across a bridge. Coming to a small square, he was stopped by the many streets and stairs and alleys.

An old man sat on a step, working at a strap on an ancient sandal. “A Brother,” Shuyun panted, “did he pass?”

The old man tugged away at the strap, looking off into the distance as he did so. After several seconds of contemplation he nodded.

“Which way?”