The Initiate Brother Duology (99 page)

Out beyond the point where the attack had been aimed, a watch fire burst apart and men could be seen spreading the burning wood across the float. Suddenly there was a tearing sound and the outer watch fires began to drift toward the walls of Rhojo-ma.

“They have broken it!” Akima said. “Look!”

A cheer went up from the walls of the city, but the sound of swords continued. Bowmen strung their weapons then, ready for a section of the bridge to come covered in barbarians and hard-pressed warriors of Seh. So slowly did the section of bridge move that men’s arms began to grow tired holding arrows at the ready.

The sound of clashing swords stopped abruptly and the shouting of the barbarians fell silent also. On the section of bridge that had been broken
free, flames began to spread as the dry planking caught. It drifted on like that toward the wall of the city, a long torch illuminating the area for more than a rih. Barbarians standing on the end of the now truncated bridge could be seen clearly in the orange light. A small boat under sail passed by the burning raft—a patrol boat, no doubt looking for survivors.

The men of Seh watched as the burning hulk began to break up as it drifted near the city. Signs were made to Botahara. The first defenders had died, and the attack slowed by half a day.

*   *   *

Morning came, a clear spring day. Another tree had blossomed on the hillside north of Rhojo-ma. General Toshaki stood at the wall, looking at the scene. He tried not to think of the funeral barge that had born his lord across the lake only a few days earlier, for it had been white with blossoms also.

The sound of the barbarian army preparing their siege echoed across the lake, ruining the perfect stillness. It would be only a few hours now. Toshaki loosed his sword in its scabbard for the hundredth time. The men on the wall around him were silent. There was no need to discuss plans and strategy—their intent was not that complicated.

*   *   *

Captain Rohku stood on a hill south of Seh, hidden by brush and trees that had not been taken by the barbarians for their great floating bridge. He wondered how he had been chosen for the function he now performed. Perhaps being the first to report the arrival of Jaku Katta had started it. Rohku knew that events of even less significance had set men off on a life’s endeavor. Whatever it was, the young captain had become the watcher—the witness.

It had been Rohku who had hidden on the ledge and watched the army of the desert pass. Having reported all he had learned from that to Rhojo-ma and sent reports on to Lord Shonto, he had been given sealed orders. And now he and a few of his company were to be witnesses to the fall of Seh’s capital. No doubt what he saw would tell Shonto and his staff much about the barbarian army and its leaders, but Rohku did not relish the duty. As foolish as he thought the lords of Seh were, he did not want to watch them die.

Much had happened in the dark the previous night though it had been difficult to know what. The men of Seh had obviously staged an attack on the bridge and cut a section of it free, setting it to the torch. Rohku had
watched the flaming raft as it spun slowly, breaking up before it reached the wall of the city. It was impossible to tell what had happened to the men of Seh. They had seen only barbarian warriors in the light from the burning bridge section which had led to much speculation. His companions had finally agreed that most or all of the men from Rhojo-ma had escaped in boats, but Rohku was sure they didn’t really believe this. The attackers from the city, the captain thought, lay on the bottom of the spring cold lake, weighted there by their armor for all time—may Botahara protect their souls.

The last section of the span that would connect the barbarian army with the walls of the island city had been warped out to the bridge’s far end where preparations were being made to move it into its final position. The Shonto guard looked around to make sure his men watched the woods behind and not the drama that unfolded on the lake.

A guard appeared at Rohku’s side just as he turned back to his duty.

“Another barbarian patrol passes to the west. They should appear below us.” He waved off to their left.

Rohku nodded. Barbarians were exploring the surrounding countryside with great determination and this resolve was showing occasional results. More than one patrol returned with some hapless resident of Wa in their midst. Not everyone had left quickly enough. By now the Khan would know where Shonto’s army had gone.

The barbarian patrol appeared as had been predicted—this one without captives. Watching them ride past, Rohku had to admit that they were fine horsemen. If they handled the sword and bow as well, they could make a formidable army.

“Captain,” one of Rohku’s men pointed.

The final section of bridge was beginning to move. Using ropes and poles, the pirates and barbarians began maneuvering the makeshift structure into place. With the Plum Blossom Wind still wafting in from the sea, there was nothing to struggle against but the inherent momentum of the raft itself, and they had enough men a thousand times over to deal with that. Slowly it moved, so slowly there was not a ripple in its wake.

Barbarians holding shields over their heads began to make their way out to the section’s far end, guarding against a foray by the men of Seh. Arrows arced out toward the bridge as it came within range of the strongest archers, but the barbarians knelt down and shields gave protection.

Looking quickly toward the shore, Rohku saw the banners of the Khan
close to the shore where the bridge began. Warriors in red were stationed there on horseback, and the Shonto captain assumed the barbarian chieftain was there, inspiring his warriors to perform great deeds.

When the bridge was almost under the city walls, a shadow appeared on the waters like a passing cloud, but it was a cloud of arrows. Realizing that he held his breath, Rohku tore his eyes away to be sure his guard watched behind, for he would need to give his full attention to the battle now so that he could give as complete an account as possible to Lord Shonto.

As the bridge bumped against the wall, Rohku saw the men of Seh swarm down the wall on ladders and ropes at the same time as the vanguard of the barbarian army started across the last section. The barbarians who guarded the bridge’s end were pushed back almost immediately, much to Captain Rohku’s satisfaction. Those will be their strongest fighters, he thought, and yet they could not stand against the men of Seh.

The barbarian army and the men swarming out of the city met in the center of the bridge, and a great shout went up from both sides. The sound of steel ringing on steel echoed across the valley like the sound of an enormous bell.

*   *   *

Toshaki turned command of the city over to Lord Akima and grasped a rope, lowering himself quickly down the wall. The floating bridge heaved as his feet struck, swaying and jerking like the deck of a ship. Men dropped to the bridge around him; they were the third wave of men from the city and would replace those falling where the opposing sides met.

Despite the number of barbarians, the Khan could not bring his great force to bear, for the causeway to the city would only support fifty men abreast. The second wave of men from the city had won another hundred feet, not pushing the great column of tribesmen back but driving them into the lake and cutting them down where they stood.

Toshaki turned and made his way among the fallen, the deck slick with water and blood. He drew his blade as he went, not looking at the faces of the dead and wounded. He did not want to know who had fallen. As he came up behind the wall of men fighting, he saw men of Seh poised, ready to cut as much of the bridge away as they could if the barbarians began to push them back. It was their intention to drive the barbarians as close to the shore as could be done and then cut the bridge away, forcing them to build again.

We are five thousand strong and we will lose five hundred in this very hour, Toshaki thought, how long can we carry on such a defense?

Thinking this, he threw himself into the fray, cutting down a barbarian in a single stroke. After that it was as if he had lost consciousness—a lifetime of training took hold and he fought on without his mind grasping what truly occurred.

A barbarian tripped and Toshaki felt his boot take the man in the ribs, knocking him into the cold waters. He felt a blow to his shoulder and registered vaguely that he might be wounded. He slipped and fell hard and found himself jerked to his feet by a young giant he did not recognize. He fought again.

He fell back to rest, and others took his place. Forcing himself up before truly rested, Toshaki returned to the battle. Arrows whistled overhead and suddenly the men of Seh began to win ground again. He tripped over a barbarian, dead from an arrow in the throat. The smell of smoke. A huge warrior knocked him down with a shield, but a man of Seh stepped in and took the blow while yet another felled the giant. Those men wore Toshaki colors, the lord realized afterward.

The sound of fire crackling and hissing. Again Toshaki fell to the rear to rest. The men of Seh were being driven back now. Toshaki turned to look for his reinforcements and saw the bridge behind him in flames, beyond the fire men of Seh had severed the span and maneuvered their section away.

We are cut off, some part of Toshaki’s mind informed him. He looked back at the battle raging and realized that they were all exhausted and falling. Forcing himself to rise, the lord moved to the platform’s edge. He would not chance capture; the waters could take him but never the barbarians.

A
LONG THE BANKS of the Grand Canal willows and calypta trees began to unfurl tiny, embryonic leaves adding yet another scent to the complex perfume of spring. Rushes appeared, straight and green, in the growing shade of the trees, and the banks were newly grassed and awash in spring flowers.

Shonto sat on a low platform placed on a high point of the bank. A silk awning in the blue of the Shonto banner protected the platform and a fence of silk hangings bearing the shinta blossom created an enclosure, giving the lord privacy in all directions but east, toward the canal. Boats of armed guards patrolled the water before the enclosure, forcing all traffic to the opposite side. Other guards were posted around the enclosure and beyond them another ring of armed men both on foot and on horseback.

Nishima watched her father as her sampan approached. In the midst of war he has set himself in a place where he can truly appreciate the changing season. Her boat hissed to a stop in the mud, its bow barely on shore, and
guards hurried down to pull it up far enough that disembarking would not be difficult.

Nishima looked up again and saw that her father was deep in conversation with a senior military aide. She nodded to the guard who had assisted her and walked a few paces along the grassy bank looking at the spring flowers. The last of the snow lilies were spread there in the shade of a great calypta, but a few days of such warmth and they would be gone until the next season.

She picked a tiny purple flower not recognized, reminding herself to ask Lady Okara what it might be. An aide of Kamu’s hurried down the bank toward her, and she looked up to see Shonto smiling at her as though they had not met in a long time.

On the platform a cushion had been arranged for her and Nishima slipped out of her sandals. She bowed to her father and he surprised her by bowing low in return, a large grin appearing.

“Lady Nishima,” he said in mock formal tones, “your presence honors me.”

“The honor, Lord Governor, is mine entirely,” she answered.

Shonto waved to a servant. “Governor is no longer a title I claim. When our esteemed Emperor learns that I have abandoned Seh and travel south with an army, I will have achieved a new office—that of Rebel General.”

Nishima’s smile disappeared. “It is a frightening thought, Uncle.”

Shonto continued in the same tone, not showing any of the signs of distress that his daughter displayed. “Not at all, Nishi-sum. Think of all the great men of history who have borne this same title: Yokashima, Tiari, even our beloved Emperor’s own father. My only concern is that my accomplishments will pale in such esteemed company.” He reached out and touched her arm. “Do not be of barren heart, Nishi-sum, the Shonto are in the best of company.”

A servant brought cups and wine, placing them on a small table. Waving him away before the wine was served, Shonto proceeded to pour the wine himself, surprising his daughter for the second time.

“You are in a bright mood today, Uncle. I wish I could feel as light of heart in our present circumstances.” Nishima started to refuse the offered wine, as was polite, but Shonto took her hand and curled the fingers around the cup, squeezing her hand gently. She laughed.