The Initiate Brother Duology (53 page)

Jaku nodded. “It is one of your many strengths, Tado-sum, this understanding of honor.” Katta sipped his wine and tiny beads of the liquid clung to the ends of his luxurious mustache. “If our father were still alive, he would be proud to see what you’ve become. A respected scholar, a confidant of the Emperor, a man desired by the most beautiful women, and still one who honors his elders and retains an unusual loyalty to his family. He would be more than proud of you, my younger brother.”

Tadamoto bowed slightly, as though modestly acknowledging praise. “I thank you for your words, brother, you are too generous, especially for one
of your talents and position.” He placed a bowl of soup before his brother. “May you carry the warmth of your family’s home with you throughout your journey.”

Jaku bowed slightly in acknowledgment. “And may the warmth of our home surround you in my absence.”

Tadamoto bowed slightly in return and they fell silent for a moment as they ate. A fish hawker could be heard passing by, calling out the day’s wares.

“I have not forgotten, Katta-sum, that it was your efforts that raised the Jaku from obscurity into the Emperor’s favor.” Tadamoto met his brother’s gaze. “Just as it is your loyal service that has gained you your present appointment. Our Emperor is very wise and has long been aware of your labors. It is this wisdom that has allowed him to understand, as few others do, how well your efforts serve his purpose.” Tadamoto glanced out the slightly open shoji as though suddenly taken by the passing scene.

“The common person who bows before you can little understand how tireless your efforts have been, Katta-sum. They do not understand what it means to reach above oneself, to exercise one’s grasp.” He began to raise the porcelain spoon to his lips, then stopped. “The common people are bound by superstition and fear and feel that it is the will of the gods that they occupy their place on this plane. These people do not even dream of moving up in the world, of knowing a life of refinement, or of courting a lady of high birth; but by and large they are not dissatisfied and thank the gods for what they have.” Tadamoto raised a spoonful of the hot liquid to his mouth and drank it down slowly, taking time to savor its spices. “Not everyone constantly desires more, Katta-sum. Many feel they have been blessed to simply be alive—to be allowed to serve their Emperor would be a dream beyond imagining. And as the Emperor’s boat passes, they bow readily and without resentment.”

“It is a difference between you and me, Tadamoto-sum. Bowing is not an exercise I enjoy.”

“That, brother, is obvious.”

“But you see, unlike the common man, I do not fear the anger of the gods nor do I feel that my hands will not be strong enough. I simply reach out; it is my nature to do so and as a result the Jaku have risen with me.” Jaku finished his soup and began to serve the next course, noodles covered with a pungent sauce made of marsh root.

“It is as you say, Katta-sum, you have brought the family honor. This cannot
be denied. But now what will you bring us? Is it not enough to have become the Emperor’s right hand? Is it not enough to have risen to the Third Rank and to have every reason to believe you will be raised to the Second, to one day perhaps be titled? I do not understand you, Katta-sum—how is it that the same blood flows in our veins?”

Jaku stopped in his preparations and placed his large hands on his thighs. He appeared to be completely calm as though he discussed the weather or the charms of the country in springtime. “It is a question I have often asked myself. I, for instance, would put loyalty to my House above desire for a woman, especially if desire for that woman were to endanger my House.” He returned to his preparations and then set a bowl of noodles and steaming sauce before his brother.

Tadamoto did not seem to notice the food. “Ah. So this correspondence that you carry on so secretly does not endanger our House? I am glad to know this. You are aware of what the Emperor thinks of this matter?”

“This correspondence should do anything but endanger the Jaku. The lady in question is, after all, a woman free to make her own choices not bound to a husband…or lover. As for the Emperor’s concern; I, for one, do not understand it. I cannot even imagine how such a trivial matter came to the attention of the Son of Heaven.”

Tadamoto lit incense from the flame of a small lamp and placed it in a silver burner. “May Botahara bless your journey, brother,” Tadamoto said quietly and they both raised their wine bowls again as they began their next course.

“I was also surprised,” Tadamoto said, as though there had been no interruption, “when the Emperor mentioned this correspondence to me. Perhaps it was the unfortunate incident with the Lady Nishima on the canal that piqued the Emperor’s curiosity. Who can say? No matter, I have assured the Emperor that, to the best of my knowledge, you do not continue to see the lady. I hope, as always, that I have spoken the truth.”

“It concerns me little whether, in this matter, you told the truth, brother,” Jaku said, leveling his gaze at his kinsman.

Tadamoto looked down at his wine. “It does concern the Emperor, however.”

“Ah, yes, the Emperor. In your reading of history, brother, has it come to your attention that dynasties do not just rise, they have also been known to fall?”

Tadamoto shook his head as though overcome by great sadness. “It has not escaped my notice, General, nor has it escaped my notice that in all of our history there have been only six dynasties while the same period has seen the fall of ten thousand ambitious advisors. It is a point that I feel is worthy of careful consideration, just as I think you should consider the meaning of your present appointment. The Emperor does not need to act as a teacher to his advisors and would only do so when such an advisor was dear to him.”

Jaku banged his fist on the table but then stopped the rush of anger and calmed himself. His face became almost serene. “I am not a child in need of instruction, brother. The Emperor owes much of his security to the Jaku and I have not forgotten this.”

“Perhaps not, Katta-sum, but Denji Gorge has not been forgotten either.”

Jaku now shook his head sadly, as though he had just heard a terrible lie from a favored son. “I am loyal to my family and their interests, brother. Has that been forgotten?”

“It is something we have in common, Katta-sum. I, too, am concerned with the interests of our family. I would not want to see the Jaku’s position undermined by ill-considered ambition.”

“Was it ill-considered ambition that secured us our present position, brother? Was it fear of our own shadows that brought the Jaku to the Emperor’s attention? It is interesting to me that suddenly you have taken it upon yourself to arbitrate in this matter, deciding what is and what is not in the interests of our family. It must be a terrible burden to bear at your age. Of course, the Emperor must be delighted to see such a man making these decisions—a man with no personal ambition.” Katta held his hand over his wine bowl as though warming himself—a hand that showed no sign of the tremor of anger. “I have forgotten to congratulate you, Colonel Jaku. I understand that you will act as Commander of the Imperial Guard while I am away from the capital. Your lack of ambition seems to have worked admirably for you.”

Tadamoto stared down at his hands. “Perhaps this journey you undertake will allow you time to reflect on these matters we have discussed, Katta-sum. I believe that was the Emperor’s true purpose in assigning you this task. Few rulers would overlook the implications of a situation such as Denji Gorge. You are being treated with great kindness, brother, though I know
you do not see it. If I may give you some advice: don’t underestimate our Emperor, Katta-sum. It is a grave and dangerous error; dangerous not just for yourself.”

Katta said nothing but only stared at his younger brother with a look of undisguised contempt. The steady rhythm of the oarsmen stopped and the boat glided on smoothly.

“We have come to the edge of the city, brother,” Jaku said coldly, “from here I go on alone.”

Tadamoto nodded, but his gaze fell on the serving table where the final course of sweet rice cakes waited; the course that was offered for luck on the journey. He bowed deeply and rose to his feet, not meeting his brother’s eyes. “It saddens me, Katta-sum, but perhaps you will reconsider in time. I am truly your loyal brother, more loyal than you realize. I would not see you…” Tadamoto stopped in mid-sentence as Katta rose and turned away, leaving the deckhouse by the rear shoji.

Jaku Tadamoto stood for a moment staring at the screen, struggling with an urge to go after his brother. This is not the companion of my childhood, Tadamoto reminded himself, nor is this one of the child’s moods. This is a grown man who makes difficult decisions and lives by them. He will not listen to me. Only time can teach such a man…if he has that much time. Turning on his heel, Tadamoto left the cabin for the boat waiting to return him to the Island Palace.

*   *   *

From the upper deck Jaku Katta watched his brother go, watched his sampan disappear into the mist and the traffic on the canal. He gripped the railing that was wet with condensation and watched his breath come out in a fine mist. The cold of late autumn was in the air and a breeze from the far off ocean pulled at his uniform.

Jaku shook his head. The sight of his brother with the Emperor’s Sonsa still haunted him. None of my lieutenants would have succumbed to such a ploy, he told himself. Jaku felt an unusual sadness come over him. My own brother, he thought, my own blood. He wiped his hand along the rail, sending a shower of water raining down onto the lower deck. Did not Hakata say that betrayal was the greatest unhappiness of honorable men? He dried his hand on his robe. Jaku Katta, the general thought, is not happy.

Turning from the rail, he returned to his cabin and, sitting down, ladled himself a bowl of hot wine. From the sleeve pocket of his outer jacket he
took a sheet of pale green paper. It was the poem he had received a few days earlier from the lady in question, Lady Nishima Fanisan Shonto.

Perhaps it is loyalty we should speak of.

Jaku sipped his cha and read the poem again. He felt a thrill every time he looked at the elegant hand of the Lady Nishima. There was a part of him that would hardly believe such a woman could be his—yet he did not doubt that she was; or would have been if he had not been forced to leave the capital so suddenly. He had tried to see the lady before his departure, but she had been ill and unable to receive him. He cursed aloud. His plans were falling to pieces all around him and the Lady Nishima was central to his designs. Damn Tadamoto!

Jaku took another drink of his wine and calmed himself, breathing slowly. It was not over yet. The Black Tiger was still alive. There were still those at court who were indebted to him and there were even a few of his people, missed in the purge, who remained near the Emperor. It was far from over. That coward Tadamoto could do him little harm now, and Jaku’s agents in the palace would be looking for a chance to undermine the younger brother’s position with the Son of Heaven. The Emperor trusted no one, so it would not be difficult to arouse suspicions about the brilliant young colonel. Jaku smiled. It would be almost too easy.

T
HE LADY NISHIMA swirled her brush in water, watching the black ink curl out from it in sweeping coils. I will call the series
Secret Journeys
, she thought as she read the poem again. Kitsura-sum and Lady Okara may see them after we arrive in Seh—a chronicle of our journey, and of my inner journey also. She set the brush carefully on a jade rest carved in the shape of a tiger, then rose from her cushion. Through the stern window she could just see the bow of the boat behind as it cut through the mist and the constant drizzle that seemed to travel with them.

Yes, Nishima thought, that will be part of
Secret Journeys
also.

She went back to her cushion and the charcoal fire that warmed her small cabin. Three days now they had been on the canal and she had not dared to show her face on deck. Lady Okara had gone out that morning and told Nishima that the mists would certainly hide her from the curious, but Nishima decided it would be better to wait. They were still too close to the capital for her to feel they had truly escaped. Kitsura shared this feeling, so the two young women spent their days below, often sharing meals and talking late into the night.