The Initiate Brother Duology (21 page)

Streams meandered, seemingly without design, among arbors, under the arches of bridges, and through stands of cherry and willow and pine.

Lord Komawara could not help but compare these gardens with his own in Seh—the comparison was humbling. And this, the lord realized, was Shonto’s secondary residence!

He followed Shonto’s steward down a long, tiled portico. The steward, Kamu, had met him at the gate and despite the young lord’s lack of entourage, had greeted Komawara like an old and honored friend of the Shonto family. Komawara knew of the one-armed old man by reputation. In fact, his own father had spoken of him often, for Kamu had been a great swordsman in his day—a man around whom legends had grown. In Seh such a man would have been made a minor peer, but it was known that Kamu felt it a greater honor to serve the House of Shonto than to be a lord in the outer provinces. There were many who would make the same choice.

Turning a corner, they came at last to a gate, which Kamu opened before standing aside to allow Komawara to step through. The old man bowed as he passed. “Lord Shonto awaits you, Lord Komawara. May your stay with us be pleasant.”

Komawara Samyamu bowed and went through the gate. A set of steps, made of stones set into the bank, led the lord up into a stand of pines. The aromatic scent was strong on the breeze and reminded Komawara of the forests of Seh. The path branched, and on the walkway which turned left, a fist-sized stone tied with a thong of softened bamboo marked the way he should take.

Intentionally, Lord Komawara slowed his pace and began to observe the details of his surroundings. It was possible that the path left unmarked was the more direct route to the place where he would meet Shonto, but this way had been chosen for him, perhaps for a certain autumn flower that bloomed there, or because there was a view Lord Shonto wished his guest to see. There could even be a message on this pathway, and if that were so, he must not miss it. Lord Komawara opened his senses and breathed as if in meditation.

The path rolled down a low hill, the large flat walking stones, like footprints disappearing among the pines. Rocks, forming a grotto, grew up
around him, and then, a few paces on, he was again in a pine arbor. Moss carpeted the floor, thick and green in the sunlight that filtered through the branches. The path forked once more and again the walkway to his left was marked. This footpath also wove its way down, giving him the illusion that he descended into a valley.

The notes of a flute carried to him on the breeze and he paused to listen. The tune was unfamiliar, melancholy, haunting. Komawara thought for moment of the beautiful Lady Nishima and wondered if this hidden musician could be her.

He went on, not wishing to keep Lord Shonto waiting, while still taking the time appropriate to the enjoyment of the walk his host had planned for him. He came to a small arched bridge crossing a stream where the water babbled among sounding-stones, and then the path turned to follow the water course a few paces through lime trees. The branches parted to reveal a pond—a pond carpeted in yellow water lilies, the favorite flower of his father.

Lord Komawara sat on a boulder of coarse granite and gazed out upon the lily pond. “I knew your father,” the message said, “he was an esteemed friend. Here we may honor his memory, in this place he would have loved.” Komawara Samyamu looked down at his sandaled feet and there, beside the boulder grew the flower of his House, the pale mist-lily. And there, the blossoms appeared at the bowl of a weeping birch, a tree which symbolized purity of purpose; close by, the shinta blossom, symbol of the Shonto House, was planted between carefully arranged stones—the symbol for both hardship and loyalty.

Lord Komawara’s hand fumbled for the familiar feel of his sword hilt, but it was not to be found, for it had been left in the care of Kamu. He rose, not quite sure where he was going. Inside him he felt his spirit swelling, the memory of his father seemed to inhabit him and he felt strangely at peace with himself, with his surroundings.

Setting his feet before him, he turned back to the path though his body moved as if it were without weight. The way rose up again among birch trees whose leaves had begun to yellow with the autumn. Up, until the pond of lilies lay in a pattern below, like embroidery on a woman’s kimono. Rising behind the pond, he could see the borrowed scenery, blue mountains, far off, maned white like the ghosts of lions.

Here on this rise he found a tiny summerhouse of rustic design and the
plainest material. Through the round “window of the moon” that overlooked the pond, Komawara could see the silhouette of a sitting man. Lord Shonto Motoru.

As he came around to the open side of the structure, Komawara saw that Shonto sat before a table studying a large map. The young lord bowed formally. Shonto looked up, and he smiled and nodded in return.

“Lord Komawara. Please join me.” He gestured to a cushion to his right and Lord Komawara stepped out of his sandals and entered the summerhouse.

Through the window of the moon, the lily pond and the rest of the grounds spread out below with the mountains behind providing both balance and contrast. The view from the adjoining open side was of the hills northeast of the city with the Hill of Divine Inspiration, and its several large temples, off in the distance.

On a small, round stand, below the window of the moon, a plain vase held an arrangement of pine boughs and branch-maple, the leaves red with the passing season while the pine symbolized constancy of life. It was a simple arrangement, elegant and carefully executed.

The map before Lord Shonto covered the areas from north of the capital to the northern steppes, the point where Seh ended and the lands of the barbarians began. Komawara glanced down upon it expectantly, but Shonto acted as though the map were not there.

“Would you care for mead or rice wine? Cha, perhaps?”

“Thank you, wine would be perfect.”

“You enjoyed your evening at the palace?” Shonto asked as he raised his hand, turning it slightly in signal to an unseen servant.

“Yes, it was most enjoyable. I must say that your daughter plays beautifully.”

“Lady Nishima will be pleased to hear you’ve said that. Perhaps she will join us later,” Shonto said and saw Lord Komawara’s pupils go wide with pleasure. “It is unfortunate that on such short notice I could not have invited Lady Kitsura also. She is such pleasant company, don’t you think?”

Komawara laughed. “Yes, most certainly. But if you surround the table with such beauty, I would be unable to concentrate on anything else. Even now, this view and your perfect garden call for my attention. But of course, you are a more disciplined man than I, Lord Shonto. I see that you can concentrate on the task at hand,” Komawara gestured to the map, “without falling prey to distractions.”

Shonto smiled. A servant arrived and poured wine in silence.

“Do not confuse lack of choice with discipline. I am forced by circumstances to contemplate the details of my pending journey to Seh.” Shonto sipped the cool wine and looked down at the map before him. “Did you encounter any difficulties on your journey south?”

Komawara followed the lord’s gaze, tracing the route he had taken from Seh—seven hundred rih along the Grand Canal. “I traveled with a moderately large force, my own guard and a group of other travelers. We saw no sign of bandits, though we heard many stories of others who were not so fortunate. Here,” Komawara placed a finger on the map about halfway to Seh, “I was delayed by the Butto-Hajiwara feud, but we were eventually allowed to pass when it became apparent that we were no threat to either side. I paid no bribe myself—I refused!—but others paid rather than wait. That is their business. The Hajiwara delay everyone, hoping to see profit from those whose time is of value. They are just short of levying a tax for passage, but I believe that would finally stir the Emperor to some action.”

“Huh, an unfortunate situation, this feud.”

“Yes and it should not be allowed to continue. A war that disrupts traffic on an Imperial waterway is unacceptable! The Butto and the Hajiwara are virtually demanding tribute from those foolish enough to pay. And the Emperor allows this!” The young lord took a drink of his wine, embarrassed by his outburst.

“I am concerned about this situation myself. I do not wish to be delayed on my way to Seh. Do you recall the manner in which the battle lines were drawn when you passed?”

Lord Komawara set his cup down and began to study the map, placing an elbow on the table as he bent over the intricate cartography. He began to massage his brow in a manner Shonto realized was reminiscent of his father.

The area that had become the center of the dispute between the Butto and the Hajiwara was a gorge on the Grand Canal, surrounded by high granite cliffs. On the map the gorge appeared as a swelling in the canal, with a small, almost round, island in its center, making the gorge look like an eye with an island pupil—the eye of the storm that raged around it. At either end of the gorge, locks were situated and these were held by the opposing armies, which possessed fiefs on either side of the river. Only at the captured locks did either family have a foothold on the other’s land.

Komawara Samyamu, as a warrior and native to Seh, the only province
in the Empire forced to defend its borders, had taken an immediate interest in the war, and it was this perspective that Shonto valued.

The young lord placed his finger on the map. “The southern locks are held by the Butto and all along their flank they have established earthworks on the Hajiwara lands. These fortifications were not built overnight and have been planned with skill using the natural terrain to its best possible advantage.” Komawara ran his hand in an arc along the west bank of the river. “The outer fortifications, which consist of earthen and reinforced siege walls and trenches, run from the cliffs above the river, here, to an outcropping of granite that I would place here.” The long finger tapped the paper. “The inner fortifications are strongly built of wood and are protected from behind by the cliffs. A bridge across the canal has stone palisades guarding either end but on the eastern shore, the Butto side, there are no fortifications, though the guard towers placed along the canal bank are only a stone’s throw apart.

“The Hajiwara have not had to prepare in quite the same way, as they took the Imperial guard tower situated beside the northern locks. This tower sits on an outcropping, which forms a large natural, and quite unassailable, fortress. Whether the Son of Heaven was involved in this is a point that many still debate, though I myself doubt this theory. I believe the Hajiwara took the castle through the simplest tactic of all: bribery. It is their way. From the tower they have managed to push their front out across the plain as far as these low hills. Here the Butto have contained them and the battle lines remain static.”

“What is your opinion of these palisades? Could they be breached?” Shonto asked.

Komawara looked at Lord Shonto, wondering if the great general was patronizing him but decided this was not so—the Lord of the Shonto had no need to do that. Komawara also realized that Shonto would already have thorough intelligence on this situation—so he must be testing the younger man, finding out what he knew, how he thought. Komawara forced a calm over his mind, realizing that much of his future would depend on his answer.

“The fortifications have no apparent weakness that I know of and both have a very great advantage in that their backs are protected by cliffs and, across bridges, the opposite shores are entirely in their control for many rih.

“To overcome either stronghold, it would be necessary to cut the bridges and isolate them. A massive frontal attack and sustained siege would no
doubt be effective in time, but this would take months. The bridges could possibly be rebuilt during that time, and this would almost certainly save them.” Komawara realized he was speaking his thoughts, wondering aloud, but no inspired answer came.

“Stealth,” he said finally. “Stealth and surprise. I know no other way. The bridge would have to be taken or another way found to enter either fortress. It would be difficult, perhaps not even possible, but it is the only way.” Komawara stopped again, his mind racing, realizing that he had no solution, nor any way of finding one so far from the fortresses that guarded the canal. I have failed the test, he thought, and tried not to show this feeling of failure.

Shonto nodded, not taking his eyes from the map. “My generals all say the same, but as of yet we have no solution to the problem. Perhaps we will not need one. I thank you for your counsel.” Shonto nodded, as though satisfied, and began to slowly roll the map.

The next signal Shonto gave was so subtle that Lord Komawara did not see it, but Shonto turned to him suddenly and asked, “I would be honored if you would take a moment to meet my vassal-merchant; you may find what he has to say of interest.”

Shonto said all of this in a tone which indicated how trivial a matter this was to lords of their stature, but they should indulge this man whose concern was money, as one would indulge a very old relative.

“I would be honored, Lord Shonto. I would not think it an interruption at all.” Komawara answered, copying Lord Shonto’s manner of amusement and politeness.

And at this, the merchant Tanaka appeared, coming up the rise. He was dressed in clothes identical to those he had worn earlier and he walked in the manner of a servant, eyes down, his face serious, all of his motions subdued. After the story he had been told about Tanaka’s interchange with the guard, Shonto almost laughed to see the merchant looking so subservient. I hope he doesn’t overplay this, the lord thought, feeling sudden misgivings.

Tanaka came up to the summerhouse and knelt in the fine gravel before it. He bowed, careful to keep his eyes cast down.

Shonto stared at his merchant and suddenly a weariness came over him. There is enough intrigue around me, he thought, enough falseness.

“Tanaka-sum,” Shonto said surprising the merchant by using the honorific before a stranger. “Come, we have no time for this charade. Lord Komawara understands the importance of your position. Join us.” Shonto gestured for
the servants to bring another table. There, he thought, this young one should know the truth of the times. I was right this morning, I have no time to indulge children.