Shike - Robert J. Shea (best finance books of all time .TXT) 📗

Zinja is armed even when empty-handed,” a guard muttered.

Jebu strode forward, climbed the steps and stood beside the screen that hid Taniko. A faint scent of lilac came to him, and his head reeled. He feared the pounding of his heart must be visible to all. Goshin stood close to him, and Jebu gave him the same hard stare he had given the guards.

“This man is not authorized to hear the word,” he said.

“Goshin?” said Taniko.

Grunting angrily, Goshin took a few steps away from Jebu. He drew his sword and stood poised to spring.

Leaning towards the screen until his lips were almost touching it, and looking into the bright eyes he glimpsed in the shadows beyond the screen, Jebu whispered, “The waterfowl is still snared in the lilac branch.” He heard a faint sigh from within.

“Goshin,” Taniko called, “this monk has given the correct password. He is a genuine messenger from my father. Since he is travelling to Minister Sogamori, he will see my husband. I have a message for my husband which I will give this monk.”

Goshin glowered. “My lady, I still don’t trust him. There are many ways he could have learned this password. And there is the business of the samurai equipment he was-carrying.”

Jebu turned to Goshin. “You are quite correct. Now that I have been identified as, I hope, a friend of this house, I can admit that I did steal the horse. Not far from here a party of Muratomo samurai was riding through the forest. I was with a Takashi band waiting in ambush. One of the enemy tried to escape on his horse. I jumped from a tree, and took his horse away from him. He seemed so unhappy about losing his horse that I killed him to spare him further grief.”

Taniko greeted this story with her tinkling laughter, and soon all the servants and guards near by joined in. Only Goshin stood unsmiling, his bulging eyes filled with anger.

“Did you not already have a horse?” he demanded.

Jebu laughed. “Clearly you do not know Lord Shima no Bokuden, or you would not have asked that question. Lord Bokuden is not the most generous of employers. He felt my legs were strong enough to take me to Heian Kyo.”

Behind the screen Taniko laughed again.

Goshin broke in. “You do not behave as Prince Horigawa would want you to, my lady. You are too familiar with this monk.”

“Be silent, Goshin!” Taniko snapped. “My husband did not appoint you to teach me manners. I am mistress of this house, and in my husband’s absence I rule here. You are dismissed. Monk, wait there. A maid will take you to my chamber when I am ready to receive you.”

“May I collect my weapons, my lady?” Jebu asked.

Goshin said, “I will keep them for you, monk. You don’t need weapons here, since you are such a great friend of this house. Ask for them when you are ready to leave.”

Reluctant to entrust his bow and arrows and his swords to this man, Jebu saw that he had no choice. He bowed. “Thank you.”

Shortly afterwards, a maid led Jebu to the women’s quarters and down a series of twisting corridors. As he had long ago been taught to do on entering a strange house, Jebu constructed and committed to memory a mental map of everything he could_ see.

At last he entered a large, dim room with a sleeping platform in the centre. On the platform was a screen of state whose curtains were painted to depict snow-covered mountains. Overcome with excitement, Jebu strode straight for the screen, meaning to step around it and see Taniko.

“Stop,” she called from behind the curtain in a warning tone. Of course, Jebu thought, they must be under surveillance. He had allowed himself to be carried away by emotion, just the thing a Zinja was not supposed to do.

In a low voice Taniko went on, “We can be watched, but if we speak softly enough we cannot be heard. Sit down and talk to me. I am so happy to see you, my heart is like a butterfly just burst from its cocoon.”

“When we parted I told myself I must never expect to meet you again,” said Jebu. “Yet I knew I would think of you for the rest of my life. Not a day has gone by that I have not remembered that night on Mount Higashi overlooking the lights of Heian Kyo.”

“I have not forgotten either. There has been nothing in my marriage to replace the memory of that night. I have known nothing but horror and sorrow and ugliness since we parted.”

Jebu felt as if a hand were crushing his heart. “How sorry I am to hear that. It would be like death to know that you had forgotten me, but I would accept it if it meant you had found happiness. We should have run away together instead of letting you go to that man. Tell me about the prince.”

“He is cold and ugly and cruel. Let us not speak of him. Why are you travelling under a false name? Are you really working for the Muratomo?”

“Yes. The cause of the White Dragon is collapsing, but the Order has commanded me to stay with it.”

“It is unfortunate that you said you were going to Sogamori,” Taniko said. “He is well known in this house. Eor you to claim a connection with him raises suspicion. Horigawa is with Sogamori now.”

At that moment Jebu heard bare feet on the wooden floor behind him. He whirled.

“Shik��!” It was Moko, scuttling towards them and bowing from across the room.

“You do not know him, Moko!” Taniko snapped from behind her screen. “He is dead if they find out who he really is.”

Moko stopped where he was, his face pale. He threw himself down on his knees.

“Eorgive me, mistress. Eorgive me, shik��. Moko is so stupid-” Jebu smiled and patted him on the back.

“You can speak to him, but try to seem as if you are speaking to me,” said Taniko. “Supposedly I am giving you instructions about the new guard tower.”

Moko said, “I am so happy to see you, shik��. I have missed you so much. But if you want to do the sensible thing you will run out of this room, through the garden and over the wall and across the rice paddies and not stop until you reach the woods. These guards will not rest until they kill you.”

“They have no reason to kill me.”

“These are men who need no reason to kill.”

“I will not leave here-not yet.”

“I understand, shik��.” Moko nodded towards Taniko, behind her screen. “She is the reason I stay in this hellhole with Horigawa and his bandits.”

“We can safely talk no longer,” said Taniko. “Go now, Moko.” Moko bowed first to Taniko, then to Jebu. “My lady. Shik��.” He hurried away.

Taniko said, “You will have to leave me now. But I hope you can remember the way to my bedchamber. You will come here tonight.” The words were more a demand than a request. Through a small opening at the top of the screen Jebu could see brown eyes looking into his.

“You must be silent as only a Zinja can be. I am watched constantly.”

Smiling, Jebu stood and bowed. “As my lady commands.” He turned and left the room, once again imprinting on his mind a picture of the corridors through which he passed.

Outside the women’s quarters, Jebu found himself in the garden. He wished for brush and ink so that he might bring a poem to her tonight. The thought of the night to come filled him with a powerful yearning. Men whose constant companion was death needed women in a way most men couldn’t understand, he thought. He wondered what Prince Horigawa had been doing to her. The thought that Horigawa might have hurt her filled him with rage. He hoped he could be tender enough with Taniko to wash away all the anguish she might have suffered.

The winter sky was empty and grey. The garden seemed bare and sad. How could a man such as Horigawa have a garden that would look anything but sad? Jebu stood awhile, letting pebbles drop through his fingers into the brook, then turned to leave.

The unseen sun was setting and the early winter evening was coming on, the empty grey sky turning to a cold black. Jebu walked through the main yard of the estate just as the gate was being shut for the night. He went into the building that housed the manor’s guards.

The men lounging in the guard room eyed him closely. He saw his bow and arrows and his two swords-his. own Zinja sword and the sword he had taken from the samurai who tried to kill him-hanging on the wall where all the other weapons had been gathered. He asked one of the men where he could get something to eat, and provisions for his departure in the morning.

“Just go to the kitchen and tell them you’re a guest of the manor. There are so many people here, they’re always cooking. If you have any trouble, just tell them you’re a friend of Lady Taniko.”

“Thank you.” Jebu smiled at the man and left. In the kitchen a cook served him a meal of bean paste, rice, soup, cucumbers and slices of fish. The man seemed used to cooking for military men and transients, Jebu noted. With practised swiftness the cook packed a box with enough provisions for a two-day journey.

“That’s more than enough to get you to Heian Kyo, even if you travel slowly,” he said.

Back in the barracks, Jebu settled down in a corner to meditate. He wanted very much to take his weapons from the wall, but knowing the guards probably had orders to stop him, he resisted the urge. He looked around for Goshin, but did not see him.

“Hey, monk!” It was the man who had directed him to the kitchen. “Want to share some of our warmth with us?” He pointed to a jar of sake being heated over a brazier.

“Monks don’t drink sake, fool,” one of the other men said.

“Thank you,” said Jebu. “I’m not used to sake. I’m afraid it would go to my head.”

The men talking around the brazier smiled and nodded to Jebu and went back to talking among themselves. Jebu sat cross-legged against the wall and closed his eyes. With Goshin gone, the atmosphere seemed much more friendly. One could even walk into this room and be unable to tell whether the samurai here fought for the Takashi or the Muratomo.