The Initiate Brother Duology (91 page)

The steward bowed stiffly. “Our first boats are on the canal now, Lord Shonto, clearing the way. I have seen to my lord’s craft personally.”

Shonto nodded. “I will wait until we have our own assessment of the barbarian force. General Hojo, speak with Lord Toshaki and Lord Ranan—if they will sell their lives, be sure they are sold dearly.”

A
FAINT RAINBOW APPEARED above the western mountains, forming a high, pure arc across a tumultuous sky—ragged clouds trailed dark ribbons of distant rain.

There was no sign of rain where the newly appointed captain, Rohku, lay—concealed on a ledge high above the broad valley. In fact the sun shone on what seemed to be a pleasant, early spring day. Unfortunately, Rohku’s cave looked north and no sun came to warm his hiding place. Although the rock was both hard and cold, he would not chance movement for many hours to come. It was early morning, the second day of his vigil.

The perimeter of the barbarian camp lay not far to his right and stretched back up the valley in the direction of the border. Rohku’s initial shock at the size of the Khan’s forces had been replaced by a growing sense of despair.
One hundred thousand men.
Since the plague had swept through the north, the entire population of Seh numbered barely more than that. Once Rhojo-ma alone had contained one hundred and forty thousand people, but now it boasted only half that number.

How can they be so many? the guard asked himself again. It was a question without answers: the question that had led the lords of Seh to ignore all warnings about barbarian invasions.

Rohku wasn’t sure which was more disturbing—the barbarian army by day or by night. The fires in the barbarian camp had been beyond counting. The fires in their camp! How could they be so many?

Patrols had left the encampment before dawn. Rohku had not been able
to see them, but he had heard them pass. The Khan sent out both large and small parties. Perhaps thirty men to a small patrol and more than two hundred to a larger group. It was a conservative strategy; the small groups would travel farther afield but would be able to retreat back to the larger patrols should they encounter Seh’s warriors in any number. And Rohku found this, too, unsettling: such a vast army willing to risk so little. It was not the bravado he had been led to expect from barbarian warriors.

The army of the desert had come awake like a dragon, a slow ripple passing from head to distant tail. The head aware and moving before the extremities had even quivered. The dragon was on the hunt, now, snaking slowly across the landscape like a great worm.

The van passed below Rohku, riders on fine horses, well armored in the style of the Empire and carrying swords and short lances. Rohku could see bronze helmet ornaments flashing in the sunlight, but he could not distinguish their shapes.

Banners waved their colors in the breeze, displaying characters and symbols that Rohku did not recognize. Banners bearing the shapes of animals; a running horse, a winged tiger, the blue desert hawk, a coiled viper. Prominent among them were standards of gold silk bearing the shape of a strangely twisted dragon.

Behind these warriors came a vast cavalry mounted on the ponies of the steppe though among these men rode captains or chieftains on horses.

This sight forced Rohku to control his anger: where did the barbarians find horses except among the men of Seh and he knew that the raids could hardly have brought the tribes so many fine animals.

The cavalry were not outfitted with the consistency of the vanguard. They had not the well matched armor and elaborate helmets, but that hardly mattered. Their arms were more than adequate and appeared to have seen use. By the time the Khan’s cavalry had passed, the sun was at its zenith.

The faces of the tribesmen were far enough off that they were hard to distinguish, but Rohku could see that this army was made up of men of all ages—from boy-men to seasoned fighters of the age of Lord Shonto and older. None looked frail; life in the wastes saw to that. It was a hard testing ground, and the tribes had their own rites of passage. The weak, no matter what age, found no place at the fireside.

After the passing of the cavalry came bowmen and foot soldiers, marching so close they ceased to appear human, as though a nest of ants had spewed
its contents onto the valley floor. A great moving mass bristling with pikes and spears—and even these men were armored and wore helmets.

A sea of banners followed the foot soldiers and behind these rode turbaned men dressed in gray. There were rumors of these men in gray—it was said Lord Komawara and Brother Shuyun had seen them on their journey to the desert and that they guarded the skeleton of an ancient dragon. The Shonto guard caught himself straining forward for a better view and pulled back. The gray men were few in number and passed quickly, followed by what looked like an honor guard wearing armor laced in black with crimson and gold. Rohku could see the backs of these riders now. Imperial Crimson, he realized suddenly—
they wore the colors of the Emperor of Wa.

A chieftain rode among them, a man upon a great bay horse—a horse that would have been the envy of a lord of Seh. His armor was crafted in the style of the Empire but worn with the high boots favored among the tribes. Even from a distance, Rohku’s practiced eye told him that an artist of the armorer’s art had created this suit—armor worthy of an Emperor. Rohku shook his head as he watched the man pass, armor laced in Imperial Crimson with trim and sash of gold. This barbarian chieftain wore a helmet crested with high plumes of deep red which bobbed and swayed as he rode. Rohku leaned forward again, a sudden realization shaking him: the Golden Khan rode before him dressed as an Emperor of Wa. Rohku pressed his eyes closed for a second. The men of Seh believe they are about to fight for control of their province, yet Seh is the smallest of this barbarian’s concerns, he thought.

Inside the circle of the Khan’s guard, Rohku saw other chieftains riding and though none wore the crimson, they were finely outfitted in laced and lacquered armor with surcoats of wolf and tiger skins. These men talked among themselves and laughed as though they were on a hunt or riding for pleasure. Down the length of the great column riders passed and reported occasionally to a chieftain near the Khan.

A pebble bounced on the ledge before the Shonto guard, and he pulled back against the cold stone. He stopped breathing. A trickle of dirt scattered across the moss. Something or someone, was on the cliff above.
Had he just been muttering to himself?

Voices came down to Rohku now. Despite being raised in the south it was a tongue the guard recognized—he had heard Shuyun speak it to his barbarian servant several times. Horses now and more men. May Botahara protect
me. Rohku tried to push himself into the rock, hoping no part of him could be seen. With great care but little expertise the captain had studied his ledge—hiding a footprint in the moss, being sure he snapped none of the bush’s branches. He hoped that a barbarian tracker would not be able to see signs of his passing from so high above, but he was not convinced this would be the case.

The reputation of the barbarian trackers was legend among the men Rohku had met in Seh, and this made the young captain slowly unsheathe his dagger. The ledge would be too small for a sword. The Shonto guard’s left leg was asleep and he knew that it would not respond if needed quickly. He offered a prayer to Botahara.

Another pebble bounced on the ledge and more talk drifted down to him. If only, he had taken the time to learn some of this language from Kalam!

The sound of hoofs seemed to echo through the stone and then grew fainter. There were no more voices. Rohku lay without daring to move for some time, realizing that he would do exactly this if he wanted to take a man hidden on a ledge: ride away and let the man believe he was safe, taking him when he was unprepared.

Something in the long line of barbarians drew the guard’s attention. Within another circle of the Khan’s guard Rohku was amazed to see women. They rode like the men of the desert, though Rohku could see hints of fine silk being worn under robes of rougher material. There were perhaps a hundred women, their heads wrapped in bright scarves that covered all but their eyes and foreheads.

And thus they go to war, Rohku thought, how amazing.

Late afternoon came, the clouds scattered across the sky grouped for an assault on the expanse of blue and the day turned gray. Rohku began to shiver. He ate some food and drank water from his skin, but not having room to move was making him very cold. It would be at least another day before he could leave his ledge and he began to wonder if he would be able to manage the climb up.

Following another group of armed riders came the supply train. The barbarians did not seem to have carts or wagons, so everything came on the backs of ponies and mules. Darkness came before the train had passed and the man of Wa spent the first part of the night listening to the sound of the barbarian flutes wafting up from innumerable campfires.

A soft rain fell, but Rohku’s prayers for a downpour were not answered.

*   *   *

Shonto sat on the railing of the balcony outside the governor’s personal apartments. The day was fine, hinting at warmth to come. Billowing white clouds scattered themselves against the great expanse of spring blue sky. It would be a day to lift the heart—if the heart were not burdened with other matters.

Shonto could see the long line of people being forced to leave the city, so many of them only newly arrived. There were no boats to carry the population of Rhojo-ma and animals of burden were being taken for the war, so the refugees were forced to flee on foot. They crossed the long bridge to the shore and then made their way up a low hill to the crest where the road divided. About half the people chose to go south toward the inner provinces while the rest turned east toward the sea. One could almost see them hesitating at the top—suddenly unsure of their decision.

It is a gamble either way, Shonto thought. His own course was already set—to leave as he’d come, along the Grand Canal. And that was a gamble, too.

Shonto read Lord Toshaki’s letter for the second time.

Shonto looked off at the long straggling line of humanity that wandered up the side of the hill. So sad.