The Initiate Brother Duology (49 page)

Nodding his head sadly, the Emperor rubbed his hand along the scabbard of his sword as though it were a talisman. “But you, Tadamoto-sum, you, I think, are different. Is that not so?”

“I am the Emperor’s servant.” Tadamoto said simply.

“Ah, I hope that is true, Tadamoto-Sum, I hope that is true.” The Emperor
paused, staring directly at the young officer. “Have you heard of these events at the gorge in Itsa?”

“I have, Sire.”

“And?”

Tadamoto cleared his throat. “Excuse me for saying so, Sire, but I have long advocated putting an end to that feud and reestablishing Imperial Law on the Grand Canal.”

“So you have. Tell me again your reasons for this.”

“Sire, it is the lesson of history. Those Emperors who have offered stability have had the fewest internal problems to deal with. The canal has been unsafe ever since the Interim War, yet this canal is our link with half of the Empire. All of the provinces reached by the canal feel they are being ignored by the capital, they grow resentful, and soon there are problems resulting from this. I have never supported the policy of allowing the Empire to remain unstable, there is no evidence in our histories to support this idea.”

The Emperor nodded. So, and it was Jaku Katta who recommended that I not allow the Great Houses to return to complete peace. Have I listened to the wrong brother all along?

“What you say has the sound of truth, Tadamoto-sum. But tell me what you think of this situation in Itsa.”

“Sire, it is clear from the reports that Shonto used the Butto to push his way through the Hajiwara armies, though it is not yet known how this was done. The situation in Itsa was so contrary to the laws of the Imperium that Shonto was willing to take the situation into his own hands without fear of Imperial reprisal. No one in the Empire will feel that Shonto has acted without honor and respect for his Emperor. He has at once done the Emperor a favor while at the same time making it clear how inadequately the government has tended to certain of its duties. The Hajiwara were no match for the Shonto and I would not be surprised to learn that Lord Hajiwara thought he had come to an agreement with Lord Shonto that was to his advantage…only to learn that the Shonto never make agreements that do not favor them.”

The Emperor caressed his sword again, with a certain compulsion. “I see. So what is to be done now?”

Tadamoto nodded, a quick bow, almost a reflex. “I believe, Sire, that you should seize the initiative in this situation. The Throne should restore order on the canals and the roads of the Empire. It will be costly to begin with, but once law is established then it shall become less so—and I fear the costs
of not doing this will be much greater. There is much support for what the Lord Shonto has done in Itsa—he is the hero of the Empire for the moment—but there would be equal support for this action if it were undertaken by the Imperial Government.”

“But would we not simply appear to be finishing the work of Lord Shonto, scurrying about after him like servants?”

“Sire, I believe it is only a question of making enough noise. Form an Imperial Triumvirate to deal with the problem of the roads and canals. Send out Imperial Functionaries and large forces of guards with power to do your bidding. Have edicts read in the capitals of all the provinces and then parade the robbers and embezzlers through the streets. It will soon be forgotten that it was Lord Shonto who took the first steps.”

“Ah, Tadamoto-sum, I value your counsel. Others give advice only to further their own aims but you…there is indeed an echo of Hakata in your words.”

The young colonel bowed his head to the mat. “I am more than honored by your words, Sire.”

The Emperor nodded. “I do not think my praise is misplaced. We shall see.

“There is another matter, Tadamoto-sum.” The Emperor lowered his voice. “A matter we have spoken of previously. Your brother, in his zeal to ensure our safety, has surrounded us with many who report to him personally. I understand this is for reasons of security, but it is more than is necessary as I have said to you before. Have you managed to discover who these people are?”

Tadamoto nodded once, not meeting the Emperor’s eyes. “I have, Sire.”

“And you have made a list?”

Again Tadamoto nodded.

The Emperor smiled. “Leave it with us, Tadamoto-sum. I will speak with your brother. Taking such precautions is more than is necessary, even for one as conscientious as Katta-sum.

“What of the followers of Tomsoma?” the Emperor asked, his voice suddenly cool. He went on before Tadamoto could begin to answer. “This attempt to cause more tension between them and the Silent Brothers was foolish. The Brothers are treacherous, but they are not fools. Has that priest…what was his name?”

“Ashigaru, Sire.”

“Has he surfaced?”

Tadamoto shook his head. “He has not, Sire. I don’t think the Emperor need be concerned. The magic cults have begun to realize that there is no hope of converting the Imperial Family. They are resentful, Sire, no doubt, but so far they are silently so.”

The Emperor shook his head. “They have been of little use and demanded much.” He turned his gaze on the young officer then, and there seemed to be great affection there.

“And did you ever discuss the Lady Nishima with your brother, Tadamoto-sum.”

“I did, Sire.”

“Ah.”

“He felt it was a service to his Emperor to observe the Lady Nishima, Sire.”

“Of course. And does he continue to see the lady?”

“He has not met with her, to the best of my knowledge, Sire.”

“Perhaps he has reconsidered the nature of his duties. That would be wisdom. There is a duty I would ask you to perform, Tadamoto-sum.” The Emperor did not wait for Tadamoto to answer. “Osha is unhappy with her situation, as you could understand—perhaps it would cheer her if you would escort her to the Ceremony of the Gray Horses.”

“I would, gladly, Sire. May I say that I am touched by your concern for those of humble station.”

The Emperor nodded modestly. “We shall speak again soon, Tadamoto-sum. Very soon. There are other matters in which we would value your counsel. We shall see.”

Tadamoto bowed low and backed from the room. Alone, the Emperor reached for the list Tadamoto had left, but he did not read it immediately. “The Shonto never make agreements that do not favor them,” he whispered. “Never.”

*   *   *

The two men circled each other slowly, each matching the other step for step. They wore the black split pants and white jackets of traditional Shishama fighters, and one, the designated aggressor, wore a red band of silk wrapped above cold gray eyes. A sword flicked right and down in the beginnings of “swallow flight,” but the other countered quickly and the swords went back to the guard position. The aggressor, Jaku Katta, slowed his circling, then stopped, planting his bare feet firmly on the stone floor. His
sword went high to the “falcon dive” position, causing the other to step back and parry. Swords flashed in the sunlight, too quick for the eye to follow and then in the clash of metal Jaku’s blade found the other’s sword arm just above the elbow and it was over. The man bowed deeply, his hand moving to massage his arm.

Jaku Katta bowed also. “I hope I have not caused you harm?”

“The stroke was most controlled, General. It has been an honor just to stand against you. I thank you.”

“The honor was mine, Captain.” The two men handed their blunt practice blades to waiting attendants. “Again, perhaps?”

“Certainly, General.” The man bowed again and Jaku nodded turning to a waiting guard. “Yes?”

The guard knelt quickly. “General Katta, your reply from the office of the Emperor.” The guard offered a folded letter to his general.

Jaku took it and continued toward the nearby door that led to his private quarters. The exercise had felt good; it never failed to restore his confidence and now he basked in that warm afterglow poets called “the sun within.” Slowly he unfolded the letter and as he stepped up onto his veranda he began to read. Two steps farther, on he almost stumbled and then stopped. He read the letter again:

Jaku almost sank to his knees but reached out and gripped a post. The letter had taken him like the stroke of a sword—suddenly it was over. One could not take back the mistake, the misplaced foot, the weak parry.

Ever since he had received the report from Itsa early that morning he had known a sense of foreboding. If he could see the Son of Heaven, explain to him—Jaku had no doubt of his influence over his Emperor—then he could
redeem himself. But now this. He would not have a chance to give his carefully prepared speech; a speech that could be his salvation.

The explanation he had prepared was clear and simple; just the way Akantsu preferred things to be. Jaku Katta knew it would be foolish to deny his involvement in the attempt on Shonto at Denji Gorge, there were too many ways the Emperor could have found out otherwise. No, Jaku’s plan was simply to take responsibility and claim there were reasons of security that had necessitated his secrecy.

The failure was something else altogether. Shonto had not only escaped the trap, but he had embarrassed the Throne by removing those parasites, the Hajiwara, from the Empire’s main artery—parasites that were there with tacit Imperial approval. And this due to counsel from Jaku himself. The Black Tiger shook his head and proceeded to his bath.

Servants scrubbed him thoroughly before he lowered himself into the steaming water. And now what? He had never received a denial of a request for an audience before. Never. The significance of this action shook him. He felt like a man who had fallen off a ship in the night and now watched it sail away into the darkness. It couldn’t be happening. Yet it was. It had, in fact, already happened.

Somehow, Jaku felt a sense of injustice as though his plans, no matter what they may be or who they might involve, deserved to succeed for no other reason than that they were his.

Was it not he who had contrived the entire plan to rid the Emperor of the constant shadow of Lord Shonto? Had he not performed a thousand deeds for his Emperor, many at great personal risk? Things could not be as they seemed. Jaku would go to the Imperial apartments and demand to see the Emperor on a matter of security. All of the men who surrounded the Emperor were Jaku’s men, they would let him through without question. It could be done. He would yet take back the mistake.

Jaku shifted in the water, laying his head back and closing his eyes. Yes that was what he would do. Once he was before the Emperor, he would hold sway. Whoever conspired against him, and he had no doubt that someone did, could not know the key to Akantsu II as Jaku did. The Emperor was, at heart, a soldier and he respected only those whose spirit was as his. And Jaku was the essence of the fighter, the raw matter distilled down until it was as pure as the spirit of the wind. Jaku was the warrior of all warriors and the Emperor knew it.

Jaku’s thoughts shifted inexplicably to Lady Nishima, to the poem he had received from her only an hour before. Her reticence was only an act, he knew. Jaku had seen it before in other well born young women. But her eyes told him the truth, and the truth was she was smitten with him. There was no question of it; this was one campaign Jaku had won. It had not even been difficult. Jaku laughed bitterly.

Everything had fit into his design until Shonto had reached Itsa. What had really happened there? Jaku stretched his muscular arms above him, letting the water splash back onto his face. The plan had been without flaw—but then Hajiwara was a fool, there was no doubt of that. Jaku laughed again. All was not lost. He would recover as a fighter did, turning his enemies’ thrust to his own advantage. He was still strong. The Lady Nishima would come into his plans soon enough and the Emperor, the Emperor who refused his audience, would understand that Jaku Katta was something more than he had ever realized.

Jaku rose and stepped, dripping, from his bath. Servants entered with towels to dry him.

“Bring my duty armor and helmet,” he ordered an attendant. It was time to see this reticent Emperor. Time for a bold stroke. Jaku dressed slowly, enjoying the feel of his light armor, admiring the artistry of its maker.

“General Jaku,” the attendant began. “General, there are servants and guards outside awaiting your orders.”

“What?” Jaku picked up his helmet and started for the door.

The man bobbed in a quick succession of bows as he rushed along beside his master. “They do not understand, General. They have been sent. You must see for yourself.”

Jaku preceded the attendant to the door and as it opened he was greeted by a gathering of faces, all of which he recognized. The servants of the Emperor. Jaku stood without speaking, the eyes of this desperate gathering turned to him, the faces registering a depth of fear that unsettled him so that he found himself taking a step, unbidden, back into the protection of his rooms.

*   *   *

The Ceremony of the Gray Horses was performed in the central courtyard of the Island Palace, a place well known for its view of the setting sun. Garlands of autumn flowers graced the columns of the nearby porticoes and autumn leaves and petals had been scattered on the ponds and streams.
The many trees in their autumn colors needed no artistic assistance, and it was from their autumn palette that other colors were drawn, including the robes of the courtiers and officials gathered for this ancient ceremony.

Directly across from the gate of the inner spirit the dais and Throne of the Emperor had been situated, and there the most revered Son of Heaven sat with the members of the Imperial family arrayed about him, including a sullen Empress. The Major Chancellor and the Ministers of both the Right and the Left sat in their appointed places, while to each side of these the ranks descended from the First to the Third, the lowest rank allowed to attend such an important ceremony. Even so, the numbers reached to several thousand men and women, all dressed with an acute awareness of the appropriate colors and degree of formality so that the overall effect was without a single point of disharmony in the entire composition.