The Initiate Brother Duology (5 page)

“The old fox has taken leave of his senses! Next he will set the
wolf
on the throne beside him. What was this poem, did our Brother say?”

The Supreme Master reached for the scroll and unrolled it.

The chi quan instructor laughed with pleasure. “I commend them both for their wisdom. Only a fool could destroy one so clever.”

“There is more,” the Supreme Master said. “A week after the stay of execution, Lord Shonto’s heir, Motoru, announced that he had married Lord Fanisan’s widow and adopted her daughter. The two women emerged from hiding under the roof of the family the Emperor had just spared.”

“The Shonto have always been bold. My concern for their Spiritual Advisor, Brother Satake, has been misplaced. Again the Shonto survive the jaws of the dragon. Had Lord Fanisan already fallen to the Emperor?”

“He fell to the plague first, poor man, leaving the Emperor in the awkward position of not being able to do away with the Fanisan women openly. Lord Shonto’s son has saved them from an assassin, I’m sure. At least for now.”

“So, young Shonto will marry off this adopted daughter to the Emperor’s son, legitimizing the Yamaku claim and tying the Shonto to the new dynasty. The entire family has genius!” The instructor’s voice was full of admiration. “And what of the plague, Supreme Master, have there been recent outbreaks?”

“We seem to have been successful. There has not been a single case reported in three months. But all the damage has been done. When the plague fell upon the Imperial family, Lord Yamaku mobilized. It was a great risk, but the confusion in the Empire gave him the only chance he would ever have. And now we have a blood-sucker on the Dragon Throne.”

Neither man spoke for a moment. The room darkened as the sun set. The Supreme Master lit an exquisite porcelain lamp.

“The Emperor still does not require the services of a Spiritual Advisor?”

“No, Sotura-sum, he still fears our influence. We must watch this one carefully as he is very dangerous to us. His son will be no better. These will be difficult times for our Order. We must all flow like water and wind or we will be damaged—not destroyed—but years of work hang in the balance.”

The Supreme Master poured more cha. “Senior Neophyte Shuyun was sent to me today and arrived during the Sister’s visit—a terrible mistake. He was indiscreet.”

“How so, Supreme Master?”

“She knows of his chi ten ability.”

“Unfortunate, but she cannot begin to suspect his true potential. I feel I’m only beginning to realize it myself. Shuyun joined the junior Initiates at chi quan, today. They were clumsy beside him!” He looked up at the older monk. “What will we do with him?”

“He will, no doubt, become a Spiritual Advisor to a peer of the Empire and spread the teachings of Botahara.”

“Shuyun would make a perfect advisor to an Emperor, Supreme Master.”

“A very remote possibility. Other things seem more likely and almost as useful. We must intensify Shuyun’s training without making him appear too special. I want to know his potential. He has never sparred, has he?”

Brother Sotura shook his head.

“How long would it take to bring him up to a level where he could win the Emperor’s kick boxing tournament?”

“He could win it today, I’m sure, but I think he should train more specifically for such a test. Not long—perhaps two months.”

“Begin his training tomorrow. I have a feeling that you and he will make a journey to the River Festival in the autumn.” The old monk stood and moved to the open balcony screen. He stared out into the open courtyard for a moment. It was lit only by starlight and the shadows played tricks on the eyes.

“You have doubled our security?”

“Yes, and I check the guards personally every night.”

“You are indispensable, Sotura-sum.” The Supreme Master finally asked the question that each of them carried with him day and night. “If the Sisters do not have the scrolls, who else would want them?”

Brother Sotura was quiet for a moment as he considered his answer. “Their value is inestimable, for that reason alone anyone might want them. But no thief could effect their sale and remain unknown—word would surely get out. The greater possibility is that someone has stolen them for political reasons. Anyone who would benefit from a secure hold over the Botahist Brotherhood is suspect.”

“The Emperor?”

“He would earn my first suspicion. He does not love us. There are no monks in his household to keep such a secret from and he is one of the few who could accomplish the theft.”

“Who else?”

“Lord Shonto, Lord Bakima, Lord Fujiki, Lord Omawara, perhaps half a dozen others, and the magic cults, though I don’t believe it was them.”

“And we still don’t know when they were stolen?”

“Sometime in the last ten years.”

The Supreme Master shook his head. “All of the guardians of the Urn have been questioned now?”

“All but two, Supreme Master.”

“And they?”

“They died of the plague.”

“Huh.”

The lamp flickered in a draft from the open screen.

“If the scrolls have been taken to blackmail us, why haven’t they approached us with their demands?”

“Perhaps the time is not yet right for their purpose, whatever it might be.”

“There is another possibility, Sotura-sum. What if the scrolls have been destroyed?”

“I refuse to believe anyone could perform such sacrilege!”

“The followers of Tomsoma?”

“They are bunglers and fools! They could never have accomplished the theft.”

“I’m sure you are right, Sotura-sum. We have spies in their midst?”

“Yes, Supreme Master, and we have contacted them. They report nothing out of the ordinary.”

“You are thorough, Brother Sotura.”

The Supreme Master stood for a moment more and then turned from the open doorway. “Thank you, my friend, you have been most helpful.”

The chi quan master rose and bowed before backing out of the room.

“Sotura-sum,” the Supreme Master said, stopping the monk at the door. “I saw your instruction of the junior Initiates today.” The Supreme Master bowed deeply to the chi quan instructor. Words were unnecessary. From the Supreme Master, there was no greater honor.

F
ROM WHERE HE stood by the steps to the quarter deck, Kogami Norimasa could see the Botahist monk silhouetted against the stars as he leaned by the rigging that supported the main mast. Kogami had been watching the young Brother ever since he had boarded the ship, though the sight of the monastery where the Perfect Master had begun writing his great works had begged his attention.

Very few had seen Jinjoh Monastery and Kogami counted himself fortunate to be among the few in yet another way. For too long he had been among the many—just another in the legion of faceless bureaucrats who served the Dragon Throne. And a very remote throne that had seemed!

As an Imperial Functionary of the Fifth Rank, Kogami had not caught even a glimpse of the present Emperor. Yet, whether the Son of Heaven knew it or not, Kogami had been of immense benefit to him, though of course the Functionaries of the Fourth and Third Ranks had received the credit.

But this injustice was about to be rectified. Kogami Norimasa’s abilities had finally been recognized, and by no less a figure than Jaku Katta, the Emperor’s Prime Advisor and Commander of the Imperial Guard. Such incredible luck! Such amazing good fortune! Kogami’s wife had burned incense at the family shrine every day since then, despite the cost.

After so many years of laboring to make the Emperor richer, Kogami Norimasa would now see the rise of his own fortunes—Jaku Katta had
promised him this. Kogami Norimasa, Imperial Functionary of the Third Rank.

Not since the fall of the Hanama had Kogami dared to even dream of rising to such a position. And that was not all! Jaku Katta had granted him an Imperial Writ which would allow him to participate personally in trade outside of the Imperium—in a limited way, of course— but still, it was a privilege granted so few outside of the aristocracy. Kogami Norimasa was exceedingly clever with money and now he would have a chance to prove it beyond a doubt, on behalf of both himself and the Emperor.

This would help compensate for the shame he felt at not having become a soldier as his father had wished. But he wasn’t made for military life; that had been apparent from his early youth, to his father’s lasting disappointment. His father had been a major in the army of the last Hanama Emperor and had died resisting the Yamaku entry into what was at that point an almost empty capital. That was the cause of Kogami Norimasa’s stalled career.

If the plague had not decimated the Imperial Capital and, with it, the bureaucracy that made the vast Empire run, Kogami knew that he would never have been allowed to keep his head, let alone swear allegiance to the new Emperor. But now, after eight dark years in which he had risen only from the Sixth to the Fifth Rank, he was moving again! The papers had been delivered to him by Jaku Katta’s own brother, papers that bore the stamp of power; the Dragon Seal of the Emperor of Wa. It was as if the gods had decided to once again grant Kogami a future.

The ship was only two days out of Yankura now, perhaps less. He prayed the winds would remain fair. Two more days of watching this young monk and then he would be back in Wa and his new life would begin.

Kogami looked again at the Brother who stood motionless on the rolling deck. He had been there for hours, dressed lightly but not seeming to feel the night’s chill. They were all like that, Kogami thought. The monks who had been his teachers when he was a child had felt neither the heat nor the cold—or anger or fear for that matter. They remained enigmas, always. Even after seven years in their charge Kogami knew so little of them. But the Brothers had left their mark on him, and he knew he would never erase it.

Despite his feelings about the Brotherhood, Kogami did not object to his wife keeping a secret shrine to Botahara—though it was really against his better judgment to allow it in their house. This was not something that was
disallowed; in fact, many families he knew did the same, but, like Kogami Norimasa, they wisely kept their beliefs within their own walls. The Emperor had turned his back on the Botahist faith and any who expected to rise in His service did the same, at least outwardly. Of course, this went against the teachings of Botahara, Kogami realized, but his wife was doubly pious for his sake. The monks themselves did not follow the teachings of the Perfect Master, as Kogami understood them, for the Brotherhood meddled in politics and acquired property and wealth. Kogami sighed. What a complicated world. Time would take care of it all, though, and the Faith would still exist when Emperors and monks had passed. It had always been so.

Outside the Imperial Service, people worshiped as they pleased and, despite the Emperor’s hatred of the Botahist faith, he had not made the mistake of openly offending the Brotherhood. The Botahists held a great deal of power in the Empire and the Son of Heaven was too aware of this.

Kogami shifted his position to try to gain more shelter from the wind. The dark form of the monk remained unmoving at the gunnel. Perhaps he meditates upon the full moon, Kogami thought, and felt a twinge of guilt as he looked up at the pure, white disk of the autumn moon.

I have done nothing wrong, he told himself. To watch is not a crime. That was undeniably true, but there was a slim possibility that he might be required to do more. The words of Jaku Katta came back to him again and he analyzed them for the thousandth time.

“You will assist Ashigaru, if he requires it, though this is unlikely, otherwise you are just to observe. Get to know this monk. Buy your way into his favor if you must, but find out everything you can about him.”

Assist Ashigaru? Assist in what? Kogami had not asked. Somehow he knew that to ask that question was to put his new future in danger. Kogami Norimasa, Functionary of the Third Rank, had pushed these thoughts from his mind.

So far, the man Jaku spoke of had not required Kogami’s assistance—he prayed it would remain so. The priest, Ashigaru, was below decks with Kogami’s wife and his daughter who was suffering from a sickness of the sea. Kogami had disliked the priest from the moment the man had boarded the ship from the island of the barbarian.

A large man with wiry hair and beard, Ashigaru had the look of the religious fanatic—as though he’d been out in the sun far too long. He had the habit of repeatedly tugging the lapels of his robes as he talked, pulling the
material closer around him, protecting himself from a cold that no one else perceived.

For the first few days of the voyage, Kogami had spoken to the priest only in passing, just as Jaku Katta had instructed. But since his daughter had fallen ill, he’d exchanged words with Ashigaru often. This, of course, was entirely natural and should raise no suspicion; still, Kogami was most concerned about such matters, for his entire future depended on how well he performed his duty on this voyage.