Shike by Robert J. Shea (the reading list txt) 📕

Like all buildings in the Sunrise Land, the Shogun’s castle was draughty and cold in winter. Taniko, Hideyori, Bokuden and Ryuichi, dining privately in Hideyori’s chambers, wore many layers of clothing and kept their feet near the charcoal fire burning in the kotatsu, the square well in the floor covered with a low table.

“Tanikosan,” said Hideyori, “you spent many years among the Mongol barbarians. I have just received word that ambassadors from the Emperor of the Mongols have landed at Hakata on Kyushu.”

Taniko’s heart momentarily stopped, then began a frightened thumping. She shut her eyes, touching her fingertips to her forehead, and saw the face of Kublai Khan, huge, commanding, round and brassy as the summer sun, as vividly as if she had left his palace only yesterday. When she opened her eyes Hideyori was staring at her with a penetrating gaze remarkably like Kublai’s.

“I have never seen you appear so frightened, Tanikosan,” he said softly, curiously.

“My fear is of the dreadful suffering this may bring upon our people, my lord. What message do the Mongols carry?”

“They have a letter which they insist they must deliver to His Imperial Majesty. I have ordered the Defence Commissioner for the West to detain them at Dazaifu on Kyushu until we decide what to do with them.”

“If their ambassadors are harmed, I have no doubt that they will make war on us, my lord. To the Mongols an ambassador is sacred.”

“These islands are sacred. If they invade us, the gods themselves will fight on our side.”

“Please excuse me, my lord,” said Taniko politely, “but every nation believes it enjoys the favour of the gods. When I was at the court of the Great Khan I met a princess from a land far to the west, where they worship a god called Allah. Their spiritual leader was a holy man who lived in a mighty city known as Baghdad. He ordered the Mongol ambassadors slain when they came to Baghdad, and announced that Allah had declared war on the Mongols. He called on all the faithful to come to the aid of Baghdad. No one came. Neither god nor man could stop the Mongols from tearing down the walls of Baghdad in a few days. Because their ambassadors had been killed, they took out the people of Baghdad, men, women and children, and they put them all to death. Even babies. Ninety thousand died.”

“What of the holy man?” asked Ryuichi. Taniko’s uncle had grown much fatter in recent years. He had stopped wearing white face powder, but he still dressed in trailing robes.

“They covered him with a pile of carpets, Uncle, then rode their horses over the carpets, trampling him to death. This they did to avoid shedding his blood. The Mongols’ law forbids spilling the blood of a person of high rank.”

Hideyori uttered a barking laugh. “A most lawful people. And merciful.”

“My lord, I do not suggest that we yield to the Mongols. It may be that we will have to fight them. But we should be aware of what would happen to us if we lost a war with them. Picture our beautiful city of Heian Kyo depopulated and our Son of Heaven trampled under carpets.”

Hideyori stared at her, genuinely shocked. “Taniko, never say such a thing in my presence again. It is blasphemy to suggest that foreign barbarians could lay a hand on our sacred Majesty.”

Taniko offered no answer. Hideyori appreciated her intelligence, or so he said, but not when her remarks verged on scepticism.

“Might not the Mongol army that is now on our soil turn against us?” asked Bokuden, stroking his sparse grey moustache with the tip of his index finger.

“There are barely three thousand of them left,” said Hideyori, his hard features relaxing in a small smile. “They lost many in the War of the Dragons. I saw to that. They are at the opposite end of the realm from their ambassadors on Kyushu. I have sent the Mongol army to the land of Oshu to arrest my brother.”

“Have you located the lieutenant, then, my lord?” Ryuichi asked. As if the might of Kublai Khan were not enough to frighten me, thought Taniko, now I must fear for the lives of Jebu and Yukio.

“I’m sure you are aware that title has long since been revoked, Ryuichi,” said Hideyori irritably. “Yes, my rebellious brother has managed to escape to Oshu, where he sought refuge with the Northern Eujiwara. He managed to slip through the barrier fort at Ataka disguised as a wandering monk. I have ordered the fort commander at Ataka to commit harakiri to expiate for having let Yukio and his companions through. Yukio is travelling with that big Zinja monk who goes with him everywhere, and with a few other bandits. The Zinja helped us in the early stages of the War of the Dragons, but I have ordered them to withdraw their support from Yukio and they have not done so. I intend to proceed against the Order of Zinja as soon as Yukio has been captured.”

Taniko remembered an afternoon in Oshu, long ago, on a hilltop overlooking the Chusonji Temple, when a few words from Jebu had brought their happiness to an end with the suddenness of an earthquake. Now, seeing in her mind the glitter of that golden roof and the temple pillars, she felt tears coming to her eyes. I must send for Moko and tell him about this at once, she thought. At last we know where Jebu is, and that, for the moment, he is alive.

“What will the Mongols do when they catch up with your brother, my lord?” she asked.

“That depends on Yukio, of course, Tanikosan,” said Hideyori. “What I desire above all else is to end this wrangling between us that began when he permitted the Imperial Court to turn his head. Their orders are to arrest him and bring him here to me. If he comes peaceably, we will discuss our differences. If we can come to a meeting of the minds, I will pardon him. I have sent Prince Horigawa to Oshu along with the Mongols. He acts as my personal emissary to Lord Hidehira, urging him, out of his old friendship to my family, to help make peace between Yukio and me. However things turn out, Horigawa will then proceed to Kyushu to meet with the Mongol ambassadors.” So, in spite of Hideyori’s talk of marriage, Horigawa was still part of his plans, thought Taniko.

“Are you sure you can trust Prince Horigawa with such important matters, my lord?” she asked.

“Taniko,” said Bokuden reprovingly. “Your conduct towards Prince Horigawa has shamed our whole family. You should not speak of him.”

“The question is a sensible one,” said Hideyori with a stare that crushed Taniko’s father. “The answer is that Prince Horigawa, like all who serve me, knows that he had better carry out my orders precisely if he wishes to keep his head.”

Bokuden cringed and had nothing further to say.

A cold, damp wind from the sea swept across the grey plain, blowing the white cloaks of the mourners and spurring the priests to hasten their funeral chants. The long white beard of Eujiwara no Hidehira, the late lord of Oshu, fluttered in the breeze. His body, on the pyramid of logs his people had built to do him final honour, was wrapped in a dark green robe brocaded in gold with a scene of mountain pines. Lord Hidehira’s eldest son, Yerubutsu, his round head topped by a tall cap of lacquered black silk, stepped forward and held a torch to the pyre. Eed by the wind, the flames leaped from log to log, and the containers of sweet-smelling oils sizzled and released their perfumes on the air. The body on the pile of logs disappeared behind a blazing orange wall.

The people of Oshu had gathered on this plain to the west of their capital, Hiraizumi, to bid farewell to their lord, who had passed into the Void at the amazing age of ninety-six. Hidehira had ruled Oshu for so long that most of his subjects could remember no earlier lord. The masses of common people were held back from the pyre by a hollow square of four thousand warriors. The samurai wore full armour, and their helmet ornaments and naked weapons reflected a steel-grey sky. In the midst of the soldiery, Lord Hidehira’s large family was gathered, headed by Yerubutsu, the new chieftain of the Northern Eujiwara and lord of Oshu, surrounded by brothers, sons and nephews. All of them looked with poorly veiled hostility at their distinguished guest, Muratomo no Yukio, who stood off to one side, dressed, as were all the others, in white robes of mourning. Towering over Yukio was the monk Jebu, who added his Zinja prayers for the departed to those of the Buddhist and Shinto priests.

Little was said while the flames crackled, sending up puffs of scented smoke to be torn to shreds by the wind before they could rise into the sky. When the pyre had burned down to ground level, Yukio approached Yerubutsu and bowed deeply, showing his reverence for his host’s new rank. Yerubutsu nodded coldly.

“Now I am alone in the world,” said Yukio.

“My father commanded me to protect you and to help you to become once again the greatest leader in the realm,” said Yerubutsu, with no more enthusiasm than he had shown when Yukio sought shelter with Lord Hidehira after his return from China. “Even as my father was a father to you, I will be a brother to you.”

“I need a brother,” said Yukio, “my blood brother having become my mortal enemy.”

“You will always be safe with us,” said Yerubutsu, fuming away and motioning his kinsmen to follow.

Before the new chieftain would move out of earshot Yukio called, “Is it true, Lord Yerubutsu, as I hear, that an army sent by my brother is approaching the border of your land?”

Yerubutsu reddened slightly. These warriors of Oshu were not used to dissembling. With a grunt of resignation he turned again to face Yukio.

“I had intended to tell you about this army, Yukio-san, but I didn’t want to worry you unnecessarily. We do not yet know who sent them, or why. In any case, it is only a small force, about three thousand. We have fifty thousand men under arms here.”

“I don’t mean to sound critical, Lord Yerubutsu,” said Yukio with a gentle smile, “but if I had been doing your scouting for you, I would have learned much more about this army by now. As you see, with no help at all I was able to find out about its existence, even though you so kindly tried to protect me from this disturbing knowledge. Perhaps you could spare me a small troop of samurai, and I could assist you in intelligence gathering?”

Yerubutsu’s grin was like that of a cannibal demon in a Buddhist painting of hell. “We are fully able to protect you, Yukio-san. You are our