The Initiate Brother Duology (123 page)

F
OG LAY AROUND the base of the hill and the thousand fires of the barbarian army illuminated the mist, causing it to glow like a fabric of mystical origin. Shonto stood looking out toward the plain, his hand resting lightly on the trunk of a tree. Two paces away Kamu stood watching in silence. Lord Shonto had spoken very little since sending for the steward, but this did not seem to matter to Kamu—his lord had requested his presence and it was possible that nothing more than that would be asked for. The old man did not feel it was his place to question.

Earlier in the evening Shonto had requested that his armor be brought and had then inspected it meticulously, knowing full well that Kamu had done the same. The steward did not take offense at this, for he knew that Shonto’s inspection was a ritual only, something to occupy the mind. Even so, the old warrior was gratified that his lord had found the armor to be without flaw.

Now Shonto was lost in silent thought. Everyone wondered if the battle
would be joined the next day, after the fog cleared. It depended on the Khan, for the men of Wa would not take the offensive.

“Shokan-sum,” Shonto said suddenly, “have we word of his progress?”

Kamu cleared his throat. “The countryside is full of barbarian patrols, Sire. I instructed Lord Shonto’s guides to bring him to us with all possible caution. I apologize, Sire, his present location is not known to me.”

Shonto moved his hand as though he brushed away an insect though Kamu knew it was the apology his lord waved off.

Silence returned. Occasional music and singing would drift up from below—sometimes the haunting scales of a barbarian flute and sometimes the familiar tunes favored by the soldiers of Wa. Neither side seemed inclined to the drunken, boisterous singing often heard in camps. Somehow Kamu had expected it from the barbarians—curious.

Shonto shifted his position, running his hand down the smooth, white bark of the birch. “I wonder about this Emperor, Kamu…. Is it possible that he will sacrifice his Empire? Is Akantsu so certain I will surrender before allowing the loss of the Imperial Capital? He takes a great risk.”

Kamu ran his hand through gray hair. “Undoubtedly he knows Lord Shonto is more loyal to the Empire than the Yamaku—who are only loyal to their own ambitions. If the Khan is defeated and my lord is part of the command that routs these invaders, the Emperor believes he will lose his throne for his part in bringing the barbarians into Wa. Akantsu must think that he can only survive if both Lord Shonto and the Khan fall. He will not sacrifice his House to save the Empire.”

Shonto nodded. “If I were to surrender my force to the Emperor, would he fight or would he retreat?”

Kamu kneaded the stump of his missing arm and shifted his weight subtly from foot to foot. “Sire, I…I cannot say what is in the mind of the Emperor of Wa.” Kamu considered carefully before speaking his next words. “If Akantsu stands against the barbarian on this field and does not triumph, the Imperial Army will be shattered. The barbarian army is formidable.” The old steward whispered his last sentence. “Certainly the Emperor would be a fool if he did not retreat and attempt to increase his force.”

Shonto nodded. “He would be a fool. I agree. The question is really very simple: who will sacrifice their House to save the Empire? Thank you, Kamu-sum.”

*   *   *

The former commander of the Imperial Guard, Jaku Katta, sat on a rock with his back against a tree and examined a sketch which showed the relative positions of the armies in the field. A lamp hung from a branch to the general’s right and several guards knelt on the edge of the circle of light. The fires of the barbarian army glowed in the mist gathered below, and overhead stars appeared to be immersed in liquid, points of light diffused by a high veil of the thinnest clouds.

Jaku looked up from his map and stared into the darkness. It is hopeless, he thought, the Emperor could hardly have chosen a worse field. Considering the number of ideal positions farther north, it was almost a betrayal of the Empire to have chosen this site to face the invading army. Fool! Jaku thought. If he had only listened….

Rolling the map with some care, Jaku created a calm to replace his anger. His teachers had taught that anger and fear destroyed one’s ability to reason, dulled the reactions, and this was a time that would demand the very best of the former kick boxer.

Jaku set the map aside. If only Tadamoto would reconsider his proposal. A dead Emperor would change the world—as surely as the change from winter to summer. Shonto could defeat this Khan, Jaku had no doubt of that, and the Jaku family would retain a position at court, for who would sit upon the throne but a member of the Shonto family—the son or Lady Nishima.

Tado-sum,
the kick boxer sent his thoughts out to his brother,
why do you stay loyal to this man
?

There was no doubt in Jaku’s mind that it would be worth the life of his brother to kill the Yamaku Emperor. He was not certain that his brother would agree, however.

What will Shonto do? Jaku asked himself again. He must retreat, the guardsman thought, it is the only wise choice. Akantsu was such a fool! Both armies had to be preserved if they ever hoped to stand against the barbarians.

Jaku believed it would take the Khan another day to ready his attack, which could allow the armies of Wa a chance to slip away. But if the Khan had any idea of what really transpired in the camps of his enemy, he would attack the next day. Pray that this chieftain does not understand what transpires here, Jaku thought.

As any good general, Jaku tried to consider all the possibilities, no matter how unpleasant. Defeat of the forces of Wa on this plain would put the Jaku
on the run—if they survived. Nitashi or Ika Cho would be the provinces most likely to remain autonomous if the Empire fell—at least for a while. An army might be raised there. Whichever province Jaku chose, he knew that he must make his way there by the fastest method—by boat, unquestionably. Yankura would be his destination if the armies of Wa suffered defeat. From there he could go either north or south—Ika Cho or Nitashi. He would not decide before reaching Yankura. Much would depend on what occurred in the next few days—on who survived.

Calling for an inkstone and paper, Jaku shifted so he could write by the light of the lamp. Considering the uncertainty of the future, custom indicated that he must compose the required poems. There were still many hours before a battle would begin—if there was a battle at all.

*   *   *

A servant brought steaming bowls of cha to the two ladies who sat on grass mats looking out over the scene to the south. They were as far away from the sight of the armies as they could manage and still be within the protective perimeter of Shonto’s defenses.

Once the servant had returned to the darkness, the conversation resumed.

“Do you remember, when we journeyed north on the canal,” Nishima said, “my spirits fell low and you lectured me…”

“I never lecture, cousin,” Kitsura interrupted.

“Encouraged me,
then,” Nishima said, slowly turning her bowl, steam rising into the air, the swirls barely visible in the starlight. “You said it was truly surprising that, considering our family histories, we had never been forced to flee before. Excuse me for saying so, cousin, but I’m not certain I truly believed that. Yet here we are. If the Emperor does not come to his senses, my uncle will take our force where? South, perhaps, or east. And will the Khan take the capital then? I believe so. Strange to think—the capital of Wa in the hands of a barbarian chieftain.” She sipped her cha.

Kitsura did the same. The night was warm for the time of year and without a breeze. A waning moon would not appear until very late and the stars were suspended in a haze. The lights of the capital glowed in the south for the nightly fog did not spread south of the hills upon which the armies camped.

“I hope my family have escaped south,” Kitsura said quietly. “Our estates in Nitashi should be out of reach of barbarian armies for a while.” There had
been no word from the Omawara family for many days and Kitsura’s worst fear was that the Emperor had moved against them.

Nishima reached out and touched her cousin’s arm. “I am certain they have slipped away and have been unable to send word. Your family have been well informed of the true situation, thanks to the diligence of their own daughter. The Omawara have had warning long before any other family in the capital. Do not despair, cousin, I am sure they are safely away.”

Kitsura nodded—a smile of thanks for her cousin’s reassurance. They sat quietly, sipping their warm cha, the aroma of the herbs blending with the complex scents of spring in Wa.

*   *   *

Tadamoto sat across the board from the vassal-merchant and stared at the arrangement of pieces as though he contemplated his next move, but in truth his mind was elsewhere.

Tanaka cleared his throat quietly.

Tadamoto looked up and then realized that it was indeed his turn to play. “Excuse me, Tanaka-sum, I am not a worthy opponent this evening. I apologize.”

“There is no need to apologize, Colonel Jaku. Please. This battle will decide the fate of the Empire.” Tanaka tried a reassuring smile. “Your brother’s proposal? It unsettled you?”

Without ever intending to, Tadamoto had spent much of the evening explaining the present situation to the Shonto merchant—had even told him of the Prince’s death and his meeting with his brother. It was quite likely that Tanaka was the only man Tadamoto knew who was, beyond a shadow of doubt, not an informer for the Emperor—a man to be valued for that alone. The young colonel had also come to appreciate the merchant’s opinions and the unassuming manner in which they were proposed.

“Katta unsettles me simply by being Katta. He demands much.” Out of frustration Tadamoto finally exchanged a piece, a move he had explored several times though he could not remember if he had decided it was a good move or bad.

Tanaka nodded. “Your brother said the same thing of the Emperor, yeh?” The merchant responded by taking a swordsman. “It seems you are caught between two men who have the same requirements but different ends in sight, Colonel.” Tanaka’s face contorted in a small grimace. “Most difficult.”

Tadamoto stared down at the board again. Tanaka was forming a substantial
attack, there was no doubt, though Tadamoto could not quite see where the effort would be concentrated. To the right side of the colonel’s keep his position was weaker and to the left the board was more complex, so he moved his
Emperor
to the left, hoping the complexity would shield it.

Tanaka contemplated the shift in focus Tadamoto’s move created. There was no evidence that he was having trouble concentrating nor did he appear very concerned with the situation just beyond the walls. Tadamoto had been expecting the merchant to ask what would become of him on the eve of the battle but was beginning to realize that Tanaka had no intention of asking him. This response had added to Tadamoto’s feeling of anxiety and he suffered from an urge to explain the merchant’s situation to him just to be rid of the tension.

“I had the honor of watching Master Myochin Ekun play gii on several occasions—years ago now. He played against my liege-lord. Those were instructive matches, Colonel Jaku, two formidable masters of gii. I must say, those were humbling matches also.” Tanaka moved a
dragon ship
into the center of the fray. “Master Myochin won almost invariably—but then he had the advantage of being blind.”

Tadamoto looked up at the merchant, wondering if this was meant as humor, but Tanaka stared at the board, his palms together, fingers pushing under his chin, his look serious.

“It is an unusual advantage, Tanaka-sum, one which most people would choose to be spared.”

“No doubt that is true, Colonel, but the game that Master Myochin plays exists entirely within, he does not even need a board. He has also never seen any of his opponents—they are only differentiated by their styles of play. Master Myochin plays gii—we play…” he waved at the contest in progress, “a game on a board with another who intimidates us or is our friend or rival or lover. Our game is always caught up in the world—we cannot escape this—and it lacks…purity.” Tanaka shrugged.

Tadamoto moved a
swordmaster
to counter the
dragon ship,
no longer caring if he made intelligent moves. “I had never considered this before, but what you say is…fascinating.”

Tanaka removed Tadamoto’s
swordmaster
with a
guard commander
and the young colonel stared at the position. His
swordmaster
had been well covered, and obviously so. Tanaka was offering a sacrifice and there seemed to be no choice but to take it. He looked further but was not sure where Tanaka’s attack
would concentrate. He took the
guard commander
with a
foot-soldier
and Tanaka answered without a second’s contemplation, taking the
foot-soldier
with his
dragon boat
and pinning Tadamoto’s own
dragon boat
in the process.

The young colonel threw up his hands and then pushed over his
Emperor
in surrender.

“The Commander of the Imperial Guard defeated by a
guard commander.”
He smiled, the tension in his face disappearing for an instant. “It could not have been more artfully done, Tanaka-sum.” He gave a half bow to his opponent. “I congratulate you. For a man with the affliction of sight you play remarkably well.”

Tanaka nodded, bowing lower than his opponent. “You are too kind, Colonel. Like any Emperor, I will sacrifice a guard commander without hesitation to win a battle.”

Tadamoto stood abruptly, jarring the gii table as he did so, knocking some of the pieces to the floor. He looked down at the older man, his face hard with controlled anger. “You presume too much, merchant. Your instruction is neither asked for nor acceptable.” Tadamoto waved toward the door. “I have much to prepare for.”

Tanaka gave a low bow and rose. He was shorter than Tadamoto by half a head, so stood looking up at the younger man. “Loyalty to principles, Colonel, those were the words you used. What principles is your Emperor loyal to? Ask yourself that, for if you serve him you are, without choice, loyal to those same principles.”