The Initiate Brother Duology (56 page)

Yet this Shonto was also the minion of a despised Emperor who would not contribute a handful of ril to the defense of Seh yet insulted them by sending a famous general now, when only the occasional barbarian incursion was dared. It was an insult almost beyond bearing.

And now the Emperor’s governor had found one of the many run-down fortifications, left to decay for lack of Imperial funds, or lack of vigilance. And Shonto Motoru walked among the sorry ruin of stone, and the northerners felt they had somehow failed in the sight of the man who had given his life beside their own ancestors to preserve the borders of Seh. The war raging inside these men was written on their faces, and Shonto wondered at it.

The fort had been created around one of Seh’s natural outcroppings of
stone that thrust up here and there, breaking up the landscape with their stark, unnaturally angular forms. This one was almost a natural castle in its own right and had needed little help from the Imperial Engineers.

Shonto walked along the remains of a rampart, stepping up onto blocks of stone long dislodged from their places. Whole sections of the wall had been carted away and no doubt formed the foundations of some local land owner’s buildings. The new governor had an impulse to have the stone hunted down and the party who had taken it executed for theft from the Province of Seh, theft affecting the security of the Empire, but he realized it would be likely that the thief was either dead or very old. He shook his head and the men of Seh looked at each other, questions in their eyes, for the lord had said nothing since his arrival at the tower.

“Is this tower typical of the fortifications I will find in Seh, General Toshaki?” Shonto spoke quietly.

The general assigned to Shonto by Lord Akima hesitated for a moment and then said with some difficulty, “There are others that are better, Sire—closer to the border—but the state of repair you see here would not be thought uncommon.”

Shonto stared out at the view of the fields and forest, the road winding among the hills. “General Hojo, if this is the state of the province’s defenses, how difficult do you think it would be for a barbarian army to push through Seh?”

Shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot, the Shonto general cast a glance at the northerners around him. “When your numbers are small and the area to be protected large, fortifications become more important, Sire.” He paused again but then seemed to brace himself before speaking. “A committed commander with an army of reasonable size, perhaps fifty thousand, could push the warriors of Seh, for all their skill, back into the capital in a very short time, Sire.”

General Toshaki turned to his supporters with a look that said,
have I not told you?—do you see what we must put up with from these southerners!
But when he spoke, his voice was full of respect. “General Hojo is a commander of great repute, Lord Shonto, there can be no doubt, and I cannot dispute what he has said. But where is this barbarian army? I have lived here all my life and I still have not seen it.”

Shonto did not answer, but stared off as though Toshaki had not spoken. He raised his hand and pointed to the east. “Who are those horsemen, General?”

Toshaki moved to the wall. “I don’t know, Sire.” He turned and nodded to his second in command. “We will find out immediately.”

Far off, a small party of riders rounded a stand of pine and plunged into a low mist that still hung in a small draw, half disappearing as though they forded a stream. Although they did not gallop, there was definitely haste in their bearing and their destination was obvious; they rode straight toward the tower.

Shonto stood watching as men from Toshaki’s guard rode out to intercept the advancing horsemen. Squint as he might, Shonto was not able to make out even the color of their dress. Hojo looked over at his liege-lord and shook his head.

It could be seen, however, that one rider bore a standard with a figure on its crest, though what the figure was could not be guessed. Behind him Shonto heard men begin to whisper, but when he turned toward them they fell silent and did not meet his eye, which was unusual behavior for the men of Seh.

Toshaki’s riders disappeared behind a rise and then appeared again, racing toward the party of eight whose numbers could be counted now. Twenty men of the capital’s garrison wheeled up before the approaching riders who slowed, then stopped, then tried to push on and were stopped again.

“What is this?” Hojo muttered, but no one offered an explanation.

It was clear to Shonto that something was wrong. The men of the garrison reeled their horses back and forth and it appeared that threats were made. He could see arms gesturing, men standing up in their stirrups and pointing at the standard.

“Who commands our men?” Shonto asked.

General Hojo turned to Lord Toshaki.

“Lord Gitoyo Kinishi, Sire. The son of Lord Gitoyo…”

“Hojo!” Shonto barked. Suddenly, an all too familiar glint had appeared among the riders; swords were drawn! The Shonto general pushed past Lord Toshaki and the sound of men in armor, running, echoed among the stones.

Below, Shonto could see that no blades had crossed, but there was every indication that this would not last. What is it? Shonto wondered, and suddenly he felt truly the outsider. Truly the man cast into the unknown. And then Hojo and his men erupted out of the fallen gate, bent low over the necks of their mounts. The sound of their approach tipped the balance and the two groups separated, though no swords were sheathed.

*   *   *

“Well, General,” Shonto said to Toshaki, “let us find out who has slipped through your net of guards.”

Shonto turned and stepped off the stone onto the grass earthwork that backed the wall and descended toward the courtyard.

Horses jostled in the gate as Shonto found his way around yet more broken down stone. The men of the garrison pushed into the yard, their horses sweating from the run and agitated by the anger of their riders.

Outside the gate, Hojo sat his horse as though he marshaled the men inside. His face was set, cold as the broken stone that framed him.

Shonto felt his own anger rising but controlled it.
“To lose control because you do not feel in control is a most confused response, don’t you think? I will certainly win now.”
So Brother Satake had once teased him as they played gii. And, indeed, Shonto had lost the game—but he had learned the lesson.

The riders filed in behind the men of the garrison and Shonto recognized Komawara’s livery, then Komawara himself appeared in the midst of his guard. Behind him rode the man bearing the standard. Shonto stopped without realizing it. It was the standard of no lord of Seh, for the man carried a pole
surmounted by a human head!
—the features slack, but twisted as though in rage or agony. The men in the courtyard cast their gaze down and none looked to their new governor.

Shonto continued to stare at the head of the barbarian warrior. Everyone waited.

“Lord Komawara,” Shonto said quietly.

The young lord did not dismount nor, Shonto noted, did he take his hand from his sword hilt. “A holding nearby was raided two nights ago, Lord Shonto. One barbarian lost his horse when it broke its leg jumping a wall. He was surrounded and brought down.” Komawara nodded toward the grisly pole. “We lost three men and four horses. No women or children were hurt.”

Shonto noticed the “We…”—“We lost three men…”—men of Seh. It affected him somehow. Komawara obviously had no idea who the people were, they were simply northerners, people who fought the same battle.

Shonto looked around the circle of faces. Some looked away, others obviously fought to control their anger. Shonto thought of how recently he had sat in the Emperor’s garden and watched the Sonsa dancers under a pale
moon. But none of the men of Seh seemed particularly horrified by Komawara’s prize.

I am far from the concerns of the courtiers, Shonto thought, very far.

The Imperial Governor looked from face to face. “Who knew nothing of this?” he asked.

Glances were cast from one man to the other. None spoke, as though the answers to all silent questions were known. Of this group, some turned to their governor and nodded.

“You may leave us,” Shonto said.

Men, both on foot and on horse, turned and began to make their way toward the gate, leaving Shonto and his guard with half a dozen others. Komawara, too, had stayed, and Shonto noted that the young lord learned his role of Shonto ally quickly.

Looking at the men who remained in the courtyard, Shonto noted that there was little difference in demeanor between them and his own guard, though they stood accused of a crime approaching treason. They are northerners, the lord thought, and had to admire their calm.

“I trust no one has a satisfactory reason for keeping information that pertains to the security of Seh from the Imperial Governor?” Shonto let the question hang in the air. He looked from one man to the next, all met his gaze—he could detect no resentment.

“Let all senior officers step forward.” Three men left their places, joined by another who dismounted his horse: Gitoyo Kinishi who had led the horsemen of Seh to intercept Lord Komawara.

Shonto stood before the four men. There was no question in his mind as to his course of action, though he wished it were otherwise. “You have your swords,” Shonto said, his voice suddenly soft. “We will leave you to your preparations.”

“May I speak on behalf of another, Lord Shonto?” A voice broke the silence. It was Komawara.

Shonto turned to his young ally and nodded.

“I do not think that Lord Gitoyo Kinishi understood what was taking place when he came out to intercept me, Sire.”

Shonto stared at Komawara for a few seconds as if he needed to digest this information, then turned to the young man who stood his ground among the condemned. “It is not my habit to repeat myself, Lord Gitoyo. Did you know of the barbarian raid before meeting Lord Komawara?”

The young man opened his mouth to speak, but no words came. Finally he shook his head. “No, Sire,” he managed, through a mouth without trace of moisture.

“Then why did you try to stop Lord Komawara?”

A soldier from Gitoyo’s company stepped forward and gave his commander a draught from a water skin.

“I…I did not think it was necessary to bring the barbarian head into your presence, Sire.” He hesitated again. “Obviously, some present must have known of the raid…bringing in the remains would be offensive to many. I was afraid such an act might influence your judgment, Lord Shonto.”

Shonto eyed the young man for a moment as though he pondered what was said. “Yet you chose to stand among these others.”

The young man nodded. “It was unlikely that I would be believed, after the altercation with Lord Komawara. I would have appeared a coward to claim ignorance, Sire.”

Shonto shook his head and noticed two of the condemned officers did the same. He turned to his Spiritual Advisor who stood close by, watching as always. One of the Silent Ones, Shonto found himself thinking. “Shuyun-sum?”

“I believe he tells the truth, Sire.”

Turning back to Gitoyo, Shonto said, “You risk being called a fool, young lord, but perhaps that concerns you less. Step away from these others. You are free to go.”

Shonto turned away and walked back toward the lookout but then changed his mind and continued up the hill.

*   *   *

Shonto stood upon the hilltop and stared out toward the north. The position commanded a view in all directions. Fields and woods seemed to fold themselves to the rolling countryside. Even this far north a few autumn colors remained and in the fair sunlight they looked as though a painter of some skill had crossed the landscape, daubing his brush here and there in a brilliant design.

“Autumn refuses to let go, does it not?” Shonto said to Lord Komawara.

Komawara cleared his throat. “I remember only one year like this, Lord Shonto, in my youth.”

Despite his mood, this brought a fleeting smile to Shonto’s lips. He had
watched another youth almost throw his life away only moments before, so the remark lost its humor immediately.

Shuyun came up the grass slope toward them. He had stayed in the courtyard to give the condemned the comfort of Botahara’s blessing.

“I wonder how this will be seen in your province, Lord Komawara.”

The young lord knew that Shonto did not refer to the weather. “It was certainly just, Sire; none can deny that. We live in a harsh world, here: pity is thought wasted on the foolish. These men knew who you were—they knew what would happen to them if they were found out. They did not show surprise at your sentence, Sire—only anger that they had underestimated you. Do not concern yourself with the reaction of the people of Seh. If anything, Lord Shonto, this act will increase people’s respect for you.”

“Huh.”

Shuyun had come up and bowed, remaining silent when he heard what was being said. Now he cleared his throat.

“If I may speak, Lord Shonto…Lord Botahara sits in judgment, Sire, returning all those who are not yet ready to the wheel. Botahara has no mercy, yet He is all merciful. The Perfect Master will judge them, Sire, not you. And my Lord has not been harsh. There is no death as cruel as the lives some will be given. Yet it must be so if they are ever to attain Perfection. Mercy does not always appear merciful.”

“Thank you, Brother.” Shonto turned to the east, toward the sea. “And what of Lord Toshaki?”

Komawara did not hesitate. “He certainly knew, Sire. That is beyond question.”

“To say this in public would mean a duel, yeh?”

Komawara laughed. “We would be well rid of him, Sire.”

“Perhaps.”

“I would be more willing to…speak my suspicions aloud, Lord Shonto…” Komawara said.

“We will keep Lord Toshaki near us, Lord Komawara. It is certain that he has been placed as close to me as anyone outside my own staff can be. We should appreciate such manipulations. Lord Toshaki shall have access to more and more of my most sensitive decisions.

“How long would it take to restore these fortifications, Lord Komawara?”

“Anything is possible, Sire, if the resources are limitless. Under most
circumstances I would estimate eight months, perhaps nine. It could be done in five if need was great.”