Shike by Robert J. Shea (the reading list txt) đź“•
" 'A Zinja who kills a brother of the Order will die a thousand deaths.' "Jebu quoted The Zinja Manual, the Order's book of wisdom.
Fudo snorted. "That book is a collection of old women's tales. You are wrong, Jebu. The Father Abbot foolishly appointed us to guard you. We have only to say we killed you because you were trying to escape from the crypt."
"I don't know any Saying."
"Kill the dog and be done with it, Weicho."
The instant Jebu felt the point of the naginata press harder against his skin, he swung his hand over and struck the weapon aside. With a quick chop of his other hand he broke the long staff into which the blade was set. The curved steel blade splashed into the water, and Jebu felt around for it. He grabbed the broken wooden end and held the naginata blade like a sword. But he still dared not climb out of the crypt.
"Come and get me," he said.
"Come and get us," said Weicho.
"He won't," s
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Jebu was stunned. “You have the audacity to offer to ally yourself with us after you tried to kill all of us?”
Arghun looked at Jebu gravely. “It happens quite often that leaders in war ally themselves with those they previously were trying to kill.”
“As for audacity, it is a very valuable quality in a military leader,” Yukio said with a smile.
Taitaro said, “It will show a great deal of audacity on your part, Lord Yukio, if you accept this offer.”
“Why would a tarkhan who commanded a whole Banner now stoop to taking orders from the leader of a people he has always despised?” asked Jebu.
Arghun held up a broad hand. “I have always admired your people, shik�� Jebu. I greatly enjoyed my stay among them.”
“Yes,” said Taitaro dryly. “During which you served the Takashi.”
Arghun shrugged. “It was necessary for me to serve the Takashi. I was hunting Jebu, who served the Muratomo. Tell me, old monk. Your Order hires out its members to fight for various masters. Does a Zinja always go through life serving on one side of a conflict? Or does he change sides as his Order commands him?”
Taitaro nodded. “He may well change sides many times. But I still do not understand why you wish to change from Kublai Khan to Lord Yukio, when you enjoy rank, wealth and power as it is.”
Arghun’s seamed face darkened. “You do not understand my position. The Great Khan publicly disgraced me. I devoted much of my life to trying to carry out a command of Genghis Khan, and his grandson mocked me for it. I do not wish to go to war against the Sung as an outcast. When I heard that Muratomo no Yukio had received the Great Khan’s permission to take his contingent of foreign troops back to the Sunrise Land, to renew his war against the Takashi, I decided that I wanted to join him. I helped Kublai Khan become Great Khan, but I no longer wish to serve him.” He lowered his voice. “I do not respect him. I would sooner fight in a foreign land and even die there than watch our empire turn into something I loathe.”
“Jebu, if I were to take Arghun into our ranks, could you set aside your enmity towards him?” Yukio said.
“Forgive me, Lord Yukio,” said Jebu, “but you would be mad to accept this man’s service.”
Arghun shrugged his wide shoulders and stood up. “I have said what I came to say. Lord Yukio, I leave my future to you. Consult with your friends and advisers. I will wait to hear from you.”
Jebu was relieved. Perhaps now he and Taitaro could talk some sense into Yukio.
“One last thing,” said Arghun. “Your force consists now of about two thousand fighting men. If you accept me, I will not come to you empty-handed. There are many Mongols who are personally loyal to me. There are many who fought for Arik Buka and who do not want to fight for Kublai Khan. You could return to your homeland with considerably more than two thousand men.”
There was a light in Yukio’s eyes. “How many more?”
“An entire tuman,” said Arghun with a faint smile. He bowed and was gone.
The three men in Yukio’s yurt were silent. Jebu studied Yukio in the flickering lamplight. His eyes burned with dreams of victory and vengeance. He would be impossible to convince, but Jebu had to try. He waited for Yukio to speak first.
“Ten thousand cavalrymen,” Yukio breathed.
“You should have asked,” Jebu said slowly, “whether they will be the same ten thousand who tried to slaughter us at the edge of the Gobi.”
Yukio leaped to his feet and stood over Jebu, his fists clenched. “Would you deprive me of victory? With ten thousand Mongols fighting for me, Sogamori won’t have a chance.”
“What makes you think your samurai will fight alongside the Mongols who only recently tried to kill them?”
“My samurai have fought side by side with Mongols for the last four years.” Yukio sat down beside Jebu on the bench and put his hand on Jebu’s shoulder. “I know how you feel. This goes back to your father. But I didn’t know your father. You yourself never knew him. Look at the gift Arghun brings us. Can’t you put this old enmity away?”
Jebu turned and stared into Yukio’s eyes. “As easily as you could ally yourself with Sogamori.”
Yukio was silent, breathing heavily. At last he stood, paced a bit over the thick Chinese carpets, and said, “Sogamori is the enemy of the realm, not merely my enemy. I fight him, not for my personal revenge, but to save the Sacred Islands from misrule.”
“If you embark with a tuman of Mongols under Arghun, you will be leading a Mongol invasion of our Sacred Islands. Arghun’s men will so outnumber yours that you will have no control over what they do.”
Yukio sat down again. “Jebu, people were wretched under the Ta kashi when we left. Now they’ve had five more years of misery. The moment I land and raise the White Dragon, samurai will flock to me from every province. Soon Arghun’s tuman will be only a part of my forces. I will use ten thousand to deliver the first blow, a devastating blow from which the Takashi will never recover.” Yukio stood once more, walked to the centre of the yurt and turned to Taitaro.
“Sensei, you have not spoken. I know that to their skill in the arts of combat the Zinja add sagacity. Do you see what I can accomplish with Arghun and his troops? Or do you share your son’s blind hatred of Arghun?”
Taitaro smiled. “As we say in go, I have the advantage of the onlooker and can see things that are not apparent to the contestants. Though I have, on occasion, fought Arghun, I bear him no ill will. Even so, Lord Yukio, I believe you would be mistaken to accept Arghun’s services. He is one of the most dangerous men I have ever seen. I have been the channel for a vision of your triumphant return to the Sacred Islands. But believe that your victory will be marred by sorrow and defeat unless you act with purity.”
Yukio frowned. “Purity? Do you mean I must land on the Sacred Islands without any foreign warriors?”
Taitaro folded his hands in his lap and looked down at them. “You have over two thousand warriors whom you have gathered yourself, trained yourself, led yourself. They are loyal to you. Most of them are foreign, but they are still a fighting force that is purely yours. They have had samurai training and samurai leadership. Arghun’s ten thousand, on the other hand, are a borrowed, foreign power. They are not truly your men, and you will not be able to control them. Unleashing a horde of barbarians on the people of the Sacred Islands can only bring you infamy.”
Yukio shook his head. “You think as your son does.”
“On the contrary.” Taitaro stood, walked over to Jebu, and looked down at him. “Jebusan, I heard the hatred and vengefulness in your voice when you spoke to Arghun tonight. You have made no progress in your feelings about him in the eighteen years since you fought him at the Waterfowl Temple.”
“Your counsels are impossible, sensei.”
“They would be worth nothing if they were easy.” Taitaro turned back to Yukio. “I know that you, too, find my advice hard to act upon. But if you do not follow it, all will end in ruin for you.”
Yukio shrugged. “I told you years ago that a military commander who puts his stock in omens and visions is likely to lose. I’m sorry, sensei, but nothing you say has changed my mind. I will make the bargain with Arghun, and you two will learn to live with it, if you want to stay with me.”
Jebu’s heart sank. “Yukio, would you choose Arghun over me?” Yukio turned his back. “Yes,” he whispered. “Because he brings me ten thousand warriors.” He whirled on Jebu and Taitaro. “Again and again you two monks have tried to do my thinking for me. It’s time you learned there can be only one commander in an army.”
“When you land on the Sacred Islands with your tuman, be sure that you, and not Arghun, are that one commander,” said Jebu.
“I want to be alone now,” Yukio said hoarsely.
Taitaro and Jebu bowed and said good night.
As they walked under the stars Jebu said, “This is a calamity. I was hoping you could persuade him, sensei.”
“I knew I wouldn’t,” Taitaro said. “My vision at the Ch’in-cha temple in Szechwan already warned me that I would fail. There will be a dark side to Yukio’s triumph, and nothing can prevent it.”
Twenty sea-going junks lined the riverfront of the city of Haitsin on the north China coast, two days’ ride from Khan Baligh. Each ship was capable of carrying two hundred soldiers and as many horses. There were not enough ships available on the coast to transport Yukio’s entire force at once, so the warriors had been divided into five groups that would leave different ports on different days. The first ships were to leave Haitsin on the fifth day of the Third Month.
The night before the sailing, Yukio gave a banquet for his officers at the largest and best inn in the city.
“Tell him I’ve gone to burn incense at the temple of Niang niang for a successful voyage,” Taitaro said. “I’ve had quite enough of Mongol feasts.” Niang niang was a local goddess who had originated as a sea-captain’s daughter. The sailors of Haitsin brought models of their ships to her every spring.
The inn was a three-storey building fronting on Haitsin’s largest marketplace. Two Mongol officers were fighting on a second-floor balcony as Jebu approached. One pushed the other over the railing and he fell into a crowd of gaping onlookers below. One who may not make it to the ships tomorrow, thought Jebu.
The junior officers were dining and drinking on the lower floors. One of Yukio’s men led Jebu to the top storey, where those of rank of hundred-commander and above were gathered. Jebu stepped through a gilded doorway and nearly choked on the smell of roasting meat. A roar of shouts and songs hammered at his ears.
Yukio’s officers were seated on benches at long tables already awash with wine. Courtesans danced through the crowd, a few of them altogether naked. The warriors reached after them, pawed them and roared with laughter.
Jebu saw Yukio at a table set on a platform at the far end of the room. Yukio was dressed as the Mongols were, in a robe of embroi dered Chinese satin. On the wall behind him hung a White Dragon banner. Shameful to display the Muratomo family insignia at a brawl like this, Jebu thought. In the Sunrise Land the room would have been quiet with, perhaps, music in the background. His host would have risen and politely escorted him to a place. Above all, there would be no stink of burnt flesh. Had Yukio forgotten all that? Was this what he wanted to unleash on his people? Jebu pushed his way through the crowd towards Yukio, and Yukio waved to him.
Just as he got to the table, two men sitting near Yukio looked up. One was Arghun Baghadur. The other was the tumanbashi Torluk. Jebu felt his face grow hot. He expected to see Arghun here, but
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