The Initiate Brother Duology (61 page)

Surveying the field of battle and convinced that all opponents were, at least temporarily, not a threat, Komawara crossed to the monk and took the sword from his hand. And then forgetting his manners entirely, the lord lifted Shuyun’s hand and examined it closely.

“How is it that you are unmarked?”

Shuyun did not answer immediately, and Komawara was surprised by the look in the monk’s eyes. He achieves a meditative state in battle, the lord thought.

When Shuyun spoke, it appeared that he did so with difficulty. “You cannot let the edge press against the skin: I was scratched many times learning this. The hand must first match the speed and motion of the sword, but once the blade is grasped firmly along its sides it can be directed as you wish. It is a skill simple in principle, Brother.”

Komawara stood stunned for a moment by the monk’s words. It is a journey on which one constantly sees the impossible, he thought, and found himself looking at the monk’s hands again as though he would discover the trick.

One of the tribesmen Shuyun had felled rolled over and moaned.

Komawara went to him immediately and bound the man with his own sash. The lord found that he was trembling with anger as he tied the man and it took all of his effort not to attack the helpless man. They raid my country, Komawara found himself thinking, they have killed people close to me, members of my family, they will never leave us in peace. He wrenched the knot tight and then glanced up and found Shuyun staring at him and mastered his anger.

A dagger, a skinning knife, and a pouch were found in the man’s tunic. He bore no other possessions.

“We had best bind them all though I do not know what we shall do with them, Brother.”

Shuyun went to the two men Komawara had dispatched and found them both dead and he wondered at the hatred he had just witnessed in the young
lord. A brief entreaty for the tribesmen’s souls and a prayer of forgiveness were all time would allow.

The first of the men Komawara had bound was conscious now, and looking from monk to lord with deep fear. Though the man’s face was dark and lined from the sun, Shuyun realized that he was not old. A youth, the monk thought, no older than his two captors, perhaps younger.

“Look at this, Shuyun-sum,” Komawara said and held out his hand. In the pouch the man carried, the lord had found gold coins identical to those that had been carried by the barbarian raiders in Seh—square, finely minted with the round hole in the center.

“They do not rob out of need, Brother,” Komawara said, and there was disdain in his voice.

Shuyun nodded. “Their dialect is of the Haja-mal, the hunters of the western steppe. I do not know why, but they are far from their own lands.”

“These are not the swords of hunters, Shuyun-sum. Nor do I see the spears or bows I would expect.” He hefted the skinning knife. “Only this. I wonder what it is they hunt.”

Shuyun turned to the tribesman and spoke to him gently in his own language. “Why do you attack us, tribesman?” the monk asked, “we meant you no harm.”

The barbarian did not speak, but looked from one to the other until Komawara moved his sword to a position where it could be put to quick use. The man stared up at the lord’s face and began to speak, though quietly, with neither anger nor resentment in his tone.

“He says that they follow the Gensi, their leader—one of the men who fell to your sword. The Gensi wished to attack us though they argued against this.”

“Why?”

The monk repeated the question and listened patiently.

“He says he does not know, but it is clear that he does not tell the truth.”

“What is his word for ‘lie’?” Komawara asked.

“Malati.”

The lord flicked the point of the barbarian sword against the tribesman’s neck and repeated the word.

Again the man spoke, though this time his tone changed and he spoke quickly.

“He says the Gensi wanted our ‘Botara denu’—I am not sure: perhaps ‘gem
of strength’ is an approximation.” Shuyun reached inside his robe and withdrew the jade pendant on its chain and showed it to the barbarian. The man’s eyes went wide and he nodded as much as the sword pressed to his throat would allow. “He says they argued that this endeavor would bring them…
bad luck
is a poor translation, but there is no other.

“What would the Gensi do with this stone?” Shuyun asked and listened as the man spoke again.

“Make favor with the Khan, who desires the power of the gem,” Shuyun translated. “These men are members of a tribe that does not support the Khan and he claims they hoped to be given gold for bringing the Khan the Botara denu. This seems to be a half-truth, lord.”

Komawara lowered his sword. “Let him lie to us, Shuyun-sum. Lies will tell us the truth more quickly than he can be convinced of the value of honesty. Ask him where the coins came from.”

Shuyun spoke again and the man answered readily. “He says the gold came from trade with the Khan’s men for ponies, though this is another lie.” Again Shuyun questioned him. “He says that he has never raided into Seh, and for once this appears to be a truth.”

Without being questioned, the tribesman spoke again, and Komawara saw the man was uneasy.

“What does he say, Brother?”

“The raiders are also given gold; this is a reward for bravery and also to compensate them for taking no women, which the Khan has forbidden.”

“How strange!”

“He assures us that the gold he carries was for honest trade and he bears no…grudge against the men of Seh.”

Komawara snorted, causing the barbarian to flinch. His eye now flicked back and forth between Shuyun and the lord’s sword blade.

“So. Where did he get the gold if not from this Khan?”

“I believe he is a brigand, Lord Komawara. From some luckless member of a rival tribe.”

“Would you ask him who this Khan is and where he gets his gold?”

Shuyun spoke again and both men watched the transformation of the man as he spoke: the tone of his voice spoke of awe. “He believes the Khan is the son of a desert god and says that he is stronger than twenty men. He squeezes rocks with his hands to make gold for the worthy. The mighty fear him, even the Emperor of Wa pays him tribute and has offered him his daughters as
wives. The Khan revealed the holy place where the bones of the dragon were buried. He calls this place ‘Ama-Haji’—
the Soul of the Desert.
No one can stand against the Khan: all men are his servants, all woman his concubines.”

“This man is obviously crazed,” Komawara said.

“He does not appear to be crazed, Lord Komawara. He also believes everything he just told us. It is often the nature of faiths other than the True Path to affect men deeply, to draw them away from Botahara. Few will find the Way among so many false paths; the Way is difficult and offers no gold nor easy answers.”

“Barbarians,” Komawara said with some finality. “What will we do with these?” He gestured to the other tribesmen, who were showing signs of life.

Shuyun spoke to the tribesman again, and he answered earnestly and at great length. Shuyun listened and nodded, making no attempt to translate until the man was finished.

“This man says that the army of the Khan is camped not far from here, but he says that if we make him free he will not attempt to join the Khan but instead he will return to his tribe and give his word to do no harm to the men of Wa or any member of my faith. He says also that if we give him his life, he will be Tha-telor—in our debt or service. We may demand service or payment for his life. He offers us his gold. I believe he is telling the truth in this.”

“Truth!” Komawara spat out. “They are entirely without honor, Brother. It is generous of him to offer us his gold when he is bound and helpless and the coins are already in my hand.”

“It is the opinion of my Order, Lord Komawara, that the tribes have a code, though it is not as yours or mine, but it is a code nonetheless and they are as bound by it as you are by your own.”

“My code does not let me easily take an unarmed man’s life, but I do not doubt that this is what we should do, for our safety and the safety of Seh. I know you cannot be party to this, Brother, yet I am sure it is the wisest course.”

“These men are all kin, Sire. If we take one with us, the others will not endanger his life. I believe we should take this man. There is no doubt that we need a guide.”

“Brother Shuyun! These others will run to their Khan. This one has said that the Khan wants a pendant such as yours. If there is even a small force nearby, any number of men could be dispatched to track us. Once they know
we are here, I have not enough skill to keep us from being found. Excuse me for saying so, but I cannot believe this is a wise course.”

“These men are not in favor with the Khan, Lord Komawara. To go to this leader with nothing in hand but a story would be a dangerous undertaking. It is also true that they, too, would be Tha-telor. I believe that this binds them totally. If there is an army nearby, we must be sure of it and we must know its extent. I believe a guide would save us much valued time.”

“Can you ask him how large this army is?”

Shuyun spoke again to the man who nodded eagerly. He knew they debated his future and was anxious to please them.

“He says the army is too large to count, but he has seen it with his own eyes and it is more than half a day’s ride to encircle their encampment.”

“He is a liar!—a crazed liar. There are not enough barbarians in a hundred deserts to make an army of half that number.”

Shuyun questioned the man again.

“Though what he says is fantastic beyond belief, Lord Komawara, he tells the truth. He and his tribesmen observed the army at their encampment only five days ago.”

“Botahara save us, Brother, I pray this is not so.”

*   *   *

“Kalam,” Komawara said, using what he believed to be the tribesman’s name. In fact it was more of a title, though a title was perhaps too official: Kalam meant “sand fox.” Most of the hunting tribes would have someone among them who bore this name, for it was traditionally given to a young hunter who ranged far and showed great cunning in his hunt. This was the one who guided the two men from the Empire of Wa, a young hunter who was Tha-telor, though neither Waian was aware of what that meant.

The tribesman reined in his horse and Komawara pointed at what appeared to be haze in the south. The barbarian nodded vigorously and then catching Shuyun’s attention began to speak rapidly in his own tongue.

“He says that is the dust of the Khan’s army. They travel now toward Seh, Lord Komawara.” Shuyun could see the look of anxiety on the northern lord’s face.

“Who would begin a campaign just as the winter is upon us? The rains will start. There will be snow and some weeks at least of bitter cold. Nothing he says makes sense to me.”

“Perhaps not, lord, if we assume he is wrong about the size of the army.
If it is as the Kalam says, then an army of great size attacking a land that is poorly defended and unaware of the threat may expect a quick victory. Seh offers the fruits of a bountiful harvest. The winter rains will come, as you say, and the inner provinces will not send an army until late spring by which time the Khan will have had time to create defenses, if indeed it is his intention to take Seh and hold it.”

Shaking his head, Komawara scanned the southern horizon again. “It could also be a dust storm, Brother, nothing more.” He pointed to the western horizon where a faint haze was apparent. “There is also dust there. Is that an army?—and if so why do they travel away from Seh?” He scanned the entire horizon then, but found no more dust storms to support his argument. “How far to the encampment?”

Shuyun spoke again to Kalam.

“We will be there before sunset, Lord Komawara.”

Shaking his head again, the young lord of Seh gestured for the tribesman to lead on.

Much had changed in the day since the barbarian ambush. With great reluctance, Komawara had agreed to take Kalam as their guide and had released the others. They had replaced their lame pack animal with one of the barbarian’s own mounts and set off for the encampment of, what Komawara believed, was a mythical army.

They bound Kalam by night and stood watch turn about, but there was no sign of his kinsmen falling on them in the dark. They made good time now; with Kalam guiding, they took no false turns nor met with any dead ends. All in all, the tribesman was proving to be an excellent guide and he had even worn away a little of Komawara’s suspicion that morning by killing a viper and providing the lord with meat for a meal.

Shuyun looked over at the young lord, riding silently, lost in a whirlwind of thought and concern. He carried a sword now and no longer bothered to keep up his tonsure and neither he nor Shuyun spoke of this. If they were captured by a leader who was about to make war on the Empire, it would not matter that they were healers…especially if it was true that the Khan desired a Botahist pendant for his own.

This thought made Shuyun worry about the safety of Brother Hitara, though there was something about this wandering monk that made Shuyun wonder if his concern would be better focused elsewhere.

Perhaps two hours before sunset Kalam brought them to the base of a cliff. “The way changes, Lord Komawara,” Shuyun said as he dismounted. “From here we must leave our horses and proceed on foot.” He stared up at the cliffs that rose above them, and Komawara’s gaze followed.

“We climb again?”

“Yes.”

Komawara rolled his eyes as he left his saddle.

They followed Kalam as he found his way upward among the shattered ledges and broken boulders of the cliff face. It was strenuous but not steep or difficult. Shuyun could see relief on Komawara’s face—glad that he did not have to repeat their ascent of the face in Denji Gorge, for this, by comparison, was only a scramble.

Finally, Kalam motioned for them to stop and proceeded to a vantage where he hid, searching with his eyes for what Shuyun could not tell. Then, he motioned them forward and signed that they should be silent. Coming up to the rocks that hid the tribesman, the monk looked out and there, below them, stood a sentry in the shadow of the cliff—a sentry dressed entirely in a soft light gray from his boots to his turbaned head.