The Initiate Brother Duology (41 page)

Crossing to the window, he leaned out, blinded by the force of the wind. He realized he had no time to spare, not knowing when the guard might be changed. When the wind veered toward him and he judged the rope would blow nearer, Shuyun reached out blindly with the spear. Something soft seemed to roll under the shaft as he pulled it along the rock, but it did not catch on the barb. Again the wind offered him a chance, but this time he did not feel the rope at all. If it catches on a projection, I am lost, the monk thought. Forcing a calm over himself he waited, dividing his attention between the direction of the wind and the stairway.

The fifth time the Wind God favored him, he felt the rope snag on the tip. Slowly and with great effort, Shuyun brought the rope toward him, never easing the pressure of the spear against the wall. Suddenly it was in his hand and he grasped it as though it were his line to life. Shuyun was about to signal Komawara but stopped. He laid the spear across the opening and tied the line to it. Back in the room he found a strong dagger in a sheath, and he tied it to the rope. He signaled his companion to take in, and then waited, keeping the bitter end in his hand.

When Komawara finally descended, Shuyun braced himself against the stone and pulled the lord across the cliff to the safety of the tunnel.

Feeling his feet on a solid stone floor, the young man clapped the monk on the back in a most disrespectful manner. “I shall tell Lord Shonto of your bravery, Brother. Never would I have climbed here alone.
And my sword
…” he bowed deeply. “I thank you.” He glowed with the elation of one who has risked great danger and survived.

“There will be time later for discussion, Sire, but you must guard the door while I make the sign.”

Komawara’s face changed at the monk’s words. He nodded, and drawing his weapon he went to the stairs.

Shuyun took the shield from the lamp and went to the door. May the watchmen be alert, he thought. Careful not to allow the wind to kill the flame, Shuyun gave the signal and waited. The lights on the lead ship died altogether as though the wind had had its way.

Now, Shuyun thought, we must lower the rope and hold this room at all costs. He returned to the chamber.

“They have seen,” he told Lord Komawara.

It was in the hands of Lord Shonto’s boatmen and soldiers now. The sound of the wind and the waves beating against the rock did not change. It is not done yet, Shuyun thought. He waited by the window, ready to pull up the rope ladder. The wind moaned all around him, and it was almost a moan of pleasure.

D
RESSED IN FULL armor, with helmet and face-mask, Lord Hajiwara crossed the small yard of the keep accompanied by six Shonto officers and an equal number of his own guard. The rattle of armor could be heard everywhere in the dim light, as fifty Shonto soldiers prepared to escort Lord Hajiwara into battle.

The sound and smell of horses permeated the cool air and a shrill wind whistled among the towers, causing the many banners to flutter and crack.

The Shonto general, Hojo Masakado, almost ran to keep up with the giant stride of Lord Hajiwara.

“There must be no time wasted, General Hojo. None at all.”

“My men await you, Sire.”

They came to a stone stairway which they mounted two abreast. At the top, a platform looked out across the plain, yet in the storm and the darkness, nothing could be seen. Dust, collected by the dry autumn, filled the air and stung the eyes.

“Damn this wind!” Hajiwara said.

“It shall be the perfect mask, Sire,” General Hojo said quietly.

“Yes, but it will also be the perfect screen.” He stared out into the darkness, into the cloud of dust. “So, Butto Joda, you think to hide behind the skirt of the night.” He banged a gloved fist against the stone parapet and then turned to his aides who dropped to their knees.

“All is ready, Sire,” a senior officer reported.

“Then we must not hesitate,” Hajiwara said, and strode across the platform to another set of stairs.

General Hojo jumped to his side. “This is not the way, Sire! My men await us here.” He pointed back to the courtyard. A Hajiwara guard stepped between his lord and the general and swords were drawn all around. Hajiwara guards seemed to materialize out of the shadows and the Shonto men found themselves surrounded.

Drawing himself up, the general stared at the Hajiwara lord. “This is treachery,” Hojo almost hissed. “Lord Shonto is not a man to trifle with. I strongly advise you to reconsider.” The Shonto officers formed themselves into a tight knot around their commander.

Hajiwara stopped at the head of the stairway. “
Treachery,
General Hojo?” His voice sounded unreal through the metal of his face-mask. “These are strong words. I do this to assure myself that there will be no treachery. If the information your lord has provided proves to be true, then you shall be freed and your lord sped on his way. You may be sure of this. I take only the precautions any man would take—any man who was not the fool I seem to have been taken for. Be at your ease, General. You shall be treated with all due respect. Please see that your men cooperate.” The lord gave a quick nod and disappeared down the stairway.

The Captain of the Hajiwara guard stepped forward and nodded, pointing with his sword to the stairs the men had ascended. Not exposing their backs, the Shonto soldiers passed down to the courtyard where their fellow soldiers waited.

So, General Hojo thought as he assessed the situation around him, Hajiwara is not the fool we had taken him for. Why, then, is he out chasing phantoms in the storm, while I am here, at the heart of the fortress that controls the locks to Denji Gorge?

*   *   *

Butto Joda dismounted and his horse was led away by an armed aide. The sounds of horses, stamping in agitation, mingled with the wail of the storm.

The Dragon Wind, the young lord thought, but who will it assist tonight? He sat upon his camp stool and a guard handed him a war fan bearing the Butto seal. Senior officers knelt waiting in the dim light of torches.

From this position on the hilltop the young lord could see the many fires of the two armies that faced each other on the broad plain. Far off, the lights of the Imperial Guard Keep, now occupied by the Hajiwara, were just visible,
and to their left, the long black line of Denji Gorge bordered the entire plain.

If only we can trust the Shonto, the lord thought. They have lied to one or the other of us, there is no doubt of that. I pray to Botahara it is as I believe and removal of the Hajiwara is their true goal. He touched his forehead in the sign of obeisance to Botahara.

A senior general came forward and knelt before his young lord. “An army moves over the plain, Sire, though it is difficult to know how large a force it is. Our spies tell us that, even in this storm, it is clear the Hajiwara soldiers make preparations.”

The young lord nodded, deep in thought. In his armor, laced in black and Butto purple, Joda looked even smaller and younger than usual, yet his generals showed no sign of lack of confidence in their lord. All waited, ready to carry out his orders without question.

“And what of the Butto, have we made our preparations?”

“The armies await your commands, Sire,” the general said. “And the
goat
has been staked in the field. We wait only for the
leopard
.”

Butto Joda nodded. “Our soldiers must be patient yet. The
leopard
comes to us. The Hajiwara will attack first, they must. And we will pull back in disarray, drawing them farther into Butto lands. A single battle stands between us and the victory we have so long prayed for. Bring me good news to take to your lord, my father. Let it be said that, in his lifetime, the Butto finally had retribution for generations of compromised honor.”

The wind curled and howled around them, making speech impossible, but then it seemed to rise and throw itself at the sky. “It is a sign!” Butto Joda said. “The Dragon Wind comes to aid the Butto, have no doubt!” The young lord reached up and tightened the cord on his helmet, and all of his retainers did the same.

Horses pawed the ground and snorted as the dragon howled around them. Their manes streamed in the wind, dancing in the torchlight. And then soldiers pushed the torches into the sand and the darkness was complete.

*   *   *

The hundredth Shonto soldier scrambled over the ledge, clawing his way up the cargo nets that had been made into a giant rope ladder. He nodded to Shuyun, observing some formality even in such circumstances.

Can they not come more quickly? Shuyun wondered, though he knew
there really was nothing that could be done about it. Holding a boat next to the cliff was an almost impossible task in this storm. Two soldiers had been lost already—swept under by the weight of their armor when the boat lurched.

Leaving the soldiers to tend to their arriving companions, Shuyun entered the chamber of stone, and signaled Lord Komawara. They crossed to the stairway. It was time to see what lay ahead. The monk had a rough idea of what to expect in such a temple, for all Botahist fanes had certain things in common. But he also realized the sect that had dwelt here so long ago would no doubt have had their own needs.

The walls of the stairway had once been painted with elaborate figures, many in the act of love. They were difficult to discern now, for the centuries had not been kind to them. Ancient written characters left Botahara’s word carved into the rock, but painted over them in many places were the blasphemies of heretics and nonbelievers.

The stairs seemed to twist up into the rock of the cliff so that soon the little light that came from below was gone. Komawara chanced a slight opening of his bronze lantern, but this showed no change—the stairs continued their long spiral. The two climbed on, making as little noise as they could, which slowed their progress painfully. Around the next corner a dull glow seemed to come from above and the warrior and the monk slowed their pace even more.

The stairs ended at a door in the rock and it was from here that the light came. Komawara drew his sword, but Shuyun stepped past him to approach the opening. Stopping to listen, he pushed chi through his body and slowed his time sense; when he moved again, Lord Komawara was unable to believe the speed of his motion.

The door opened into a corridor wide enough for four men abreast. The sound of the storm was less here, but the air still rushed and funneled through the doors and tunnels.

This will be the level of the three windows, Shuyun thought. I am in the hall that connects them. He stepped farther into the corridor, looking toward the source of the light. An eerie wail came from behind and Shuyun whirled toward it…but there was nothing there except the wind.

The voice of the dead Brothers is still in the wind, the monk thought, and he turned back to the light. It seemed to come from a door on the right. An
inner chamber, Shuyun thought, and signaled Komawara to wait while he investigated. The lord took up a position in the doorway where he could watch the hall at the monk’s back.

Shuyun moved forward, seeming to flow like a Sonsa. His bare feet made no sound on the cold stone.

As he came close to the door, there was a noise from the hallway’s end—footsteps and the rattle of armor. A light illuminated the opening and Shuyun could see stairs. He stepped back, ready to run, but realized there was no time. A soldier appeared, lamp in hand, his eyes fixed to the floor in front of him. He was three steps into the corridor before he looked up and saw the monk crouched in the halflight.

The soldier’s eyes went wide and he stopped.
“Spirit-walker!”
he whispered and turned and fled.

Alerted by the noise, a second soldier appeared in the door to the right. He, too, recoiled in shock at the sight of the monk and Shuyun used the second of surprise to drive a soft-fist into the bridge of the man’s nose. There was a “crack” like the sound of a breaking board and the guard fell to the stone in a heap. Shuyun jumped into the room and with a sweeping motion of his left hand deflected the blow of a second guard. Stepping aside, the monk found the center of resistance in his opponent and easily propelled the man across the hall into the solid granite wall. He fell and did not move.

Komawara was beside the monk now, sword in hand.

“Did one escape, Brother?”

Shuyun nodded as he knelt to tie the guards.

“Then we are discovered! He will sound the alarm.” The young lord’s face twisted in what seemed like pain. “We have failed.”

“I don’t think we have, Sire. The guard is sure he saw a Spirit-walker—a ghost of the dead Brothers who once dwelt here. No doubt he is frightening his companions with his tale even now. I think no one will venture down here while this storm lasts. But we must be sure this level is secure so that no one escapes with the truth.”

The lord nodded and was off to the other doors without hesitation, moving with the assuredness and grace of a falcon about to strike.

*   *   *

Shonto slid his brush carefully across his inkstone and went back to the paper he worked on.
No man knows the weaknesses of his own child,
the lord wrote.
And no man knows the strength of the tree by the shape of the seed.