Shike, Robert J. Shea [ebook reader that looks like a book TXT] 📗
- Author: Robert J. Shea
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Jebu darted around the log, slashing at Arghun. He expected the big man to duck back, but Arghun stood firm, parrying Jebu’s sword with a clang. They were almost chest-to-chest, and Jebu thought how unusual to be fighting someone as big as himself.
Arghun put his boot behind Jebu’s bare heel and tripped him. Jebu saved himself by turning his fall into a somersault, rolling away from Arghun’s thrust. Part of Jebu’s anger turned against himself. He was fighting poorly tonight. He was making mistakes, letting himself be taken in by obvious tricks. He told himself that he must get the better of the Mongol. Otherwise he would be failing himself, his father and the Order. Not only his life but the meaning of his life depended upon it.
Jumping to his feet, Jebu wondered when the rest of Arghun’s men would join in. Surely they could hear the ringing of sword on sword. Why didn’t Arghun call them? Probably because he wanted to kill Jebu himself. What was Taitaro doing? Jebu dared not take his eyes from Arghun for an instant.
The Mongol was moving in on him again. Unlike the Zinja, who frequently fell back or feigned retreat in order to draw their opponents off-balance, Arghun stayed constantly on the attack, his blade slamming again and again into Jebu’s. Jebu knew Arghun was trying to wear him down, overwhelm him with his strength. To break the momentum of Arghun’s attack, Jebu crouched and swung his short sword at the Mongol warrior’s legs.
Arghun leaped into the air, bringing his sabre down on Jebu’s blade with all his strength. Jebu lost his grip under the force of Arghun’s blow. The Zinja sword went spinning across the room. Still crouched, reaching for the lost blade, Jebu saw Arghun poised over him, his sword upraised for the death blow.
Rolling himself into a ball, Jebu hit Arghun’s legs. The Mongol started to topple, then caught himself with a dancer’s grace and whirled to strike at Jebu again. Jebu felt the impact of the sword’s point and edge biting into the flesh of his upper arm.
Then the candle went out.
Arghun’s blade, seeking him again, rang on the temple’s stone floor. Jebu realized instantly why Taitaro had been standing near the candle. He had given Jebu his chance, and had blown the candle out when he thought Arghun was going to kill him.
Now Arghun was roaring for his men. “Get in here and bring light! The monk I’m after is here!”
Jebu remembered where his Zinja sword had struck the far wall. He ran for it and snatched it up, then turned to look for Arghun.
“Jebu, you fool! Here!” Jebu felt Taitaro’s powerful fingers on his arm. Taitaro propelled him around to the back of the altar. Jebu heard stone grind against stone. Then Taitaro was pulling him again, and he squeezed through the opening and heard the stone door slide shut behind him.
Taitaro lit a candle and beckoned Jebu. Soon they were in the tunnels in the mountain, far below the temple. Taitaro turned on him angrily.
“I told you precisely what to do, but you wouldn’t listen. If you had, you’d be safely on your way to Hakata. Now you’re wounded, and you’ve still got to walk to Hakata. Let me see that arm. You’re bleeding heavily.” He helped Jebu clean and bind the wound.
“You’ll have a scar there. I hope you’re proud of it.”
“Sensei, you’re angry because I put myself in danger. But what else could I do? The man who killed my father, sitting there talking about killing me-He has been hunting me, sensei. And you were in danger, too. I had to attack him.”
“I don’t want you to be killed by that man.”
“I won’t be. I will kill him some day.”
“Jebu, he killed you tonight, on the plane of combat skill. You did not fight as a Zinja should fight. You were angry and vengeful, and therefore you were conscious and controlling at every moment. You did not let the Self fight. You hungered for revenge on Arghun as an ordinary man hungers for a beautiful woman. Think back on it.”
Jebu remembered. He had entered the temple composing himself for battle in the usual way, but somehow when he had launched himself at Arghun he had forgotten all that. More than anything in the world he had wanted to kill the Mongol giant. Throughout the fight he had incessantly been telling himself what to do. And he had always been wrong. Remembering, he was crestfallen. Truly he had fallen far short of the Zinja ideal. Perhaps it was his Mongol blood.
“You are right. I am humiliated.”
“Humiliation is our best teacher,” said Taitaro. “It is as kind to us as an old grandmother. I wanted you to know this man. An empty space in your life was filled up tonight. But now you should forget the tale of your father and Arghun as you would forget yesterday’s meal. It does not matter how you came to be born or where you came from or what men did injuries to your father. Until you can go against Arghun stripped bare in mind, he will always be able to get the better of you.”
Shame was a leaden weight in Jebu’s chest. “I am afraid, sensei, that I am a bad student. I hunger for beautiful women, like any ordinary man. I haven’t learned not to care about winning and losing. With Arghun, the man who killed my father, the wish to win became my master.”
“You are young, Jebu. The Zinja teachings aim at perfection, but you are not expected to be perfect. We hope you will learn to apply the teachings often enough at this stage of your life that you can live long enough to apply them still more.”
The weight in Jebu’s chest felt lighter. He smiled gratefully, looking into Taitaro’s weary, kindly eyes.
“I will try to care less.”
“Consult the shintai, the Jewel of Life and Death, every day. It will help you to see things more clearly.”
Together, in silence, they made their way downwards through the tunnel system. At last they were on the beach under the half-moon and the stars. Another light caught Jebu’s eye and he looked up in horror. The Waterfowl Temple was burning.
The temple had always reminded Jebu of a bird. Now the tongues of flame were like feathers and wings, and the temple was, not a waterfowl, but a great bird of fire poised for flight.
Rage followed shock. “I wish I could run back up the mountain and kill them all.”
“They are stupid men, and burning the temple is a futile act.” said Taitaro. “It doesn’t matter. We set no great store by temples. They’re just so much firewood in the end.”
They embraced, and Jebu turned his back on Taitaro and on the blazing Waterfowl Temple and started walking down the beach towards Hakata.
From the pillow book of Shima Taniko:
One hears very little from the capital these days. Once in a while Akimi manages to slip me a letter or a present by way of a trusted servant. I can only guess how it makes her feel to be Sogamori’s mistress. Poor Akimi-san. Her son Yukio is now a novice monk at the Buddhist temple on Mount Hiei.
Sogamori has had himself appointed chancellor. This is an ancient office, long left vacant, and is considered higher than the office of Regent. Eujiwara no Motofusa, who is now Regent, must be grinding his blackened teeth down to stumps. With the office of chancellor and with tens of thousands of Takashi samurai ready to spring to do his bidding, Sogamori is the real ruler of the Sunrise Land.
According to Akimi, Sogamori was recently heard to say, “Anyone who is not a Takashi is not a human being.” That remark has been repeated all over the capital. People follow the Takashi fashion in everything from the way men wear their ceremonial hats to the style of the family crest on one’s clothing. Anyone who wants to be in fashion must study and copy the way things are done in the Rokuhara.
A strange and frightening thing happened yesterday. A troop of Takashi samurai visited Daidoji. Their leader was a giant barbarian who spoke our language very poorly, with a thick accent. He questioned all the guards who fought with Jebu, then came to see me.
Arghun Baghadur, he said his name was. What sort of an outlandish name is that? He would tell me nothing of himself, save that he does the bidding of Sogamori and had old Squint-Eyes’ permission to question me. He asked me many questions about Jebu, to most of which I answered that I did not know. Having been told by Horigawa that I speak Chinese, he conversed with me in that language, which he spoke passably well.
I made one stupid mistake. After he had asked me many questions I declared that I had no interest in Zinja monks, especially those of barbarian descent. He pounced at once.
“Then you know of his descent. He must have told you about himself.”
I had only intended to make an insulting reference to this Arghun Baghadur’s own barbarian background. Led on by my wish to hurt,
I forgot myself and made a serious error. It was as Jebu once told me: the warrior who acts out of anger or hatred is simply seeking his own defeat.
I answered that I had guessed Jebu’s barbarian ancestry from his appearance. Suddenly I realized that Jebu had told me his father was killed by a giant barbarian with red hair and blue eyes, and that the barbarian wished to kill Jebu. Instantly I felt sure this was the very man. If only there were some way I could warn Jebu.
The barbarian pressed me with questions for an hour more. I pray I told him nothing else that might help him. After he left, I fainted. Compassionate Buddha, help Jebu.
-First Month, eighth day
YEAR OF THE SHEEP
Arghun Baghadur’s visit brought her last meeting with Jebu vividly back to her. Einally she forced herself to accept a fact she had only suspected in the months since she had seen Jebu. She was pregnant.
Compassionate Buddha, she whispered to herself, help me.
She waited another month to be sure, before telling Horigawa the news on one of his infrequent visits to Daidoji. She asked his permission to go to Kamakura for the lying-in. Any place was better, she thought, than this god-forsaken country rathole. And once she got away from Horigawa, she might be able to find excuses to avoid returning to him.
“Out of the question,” said Horigawa.
“But a woman of good family returns to her home to give birth.”
Horigawa smiled and tapped his fingertips together. “Not, I think, when the home is as far away as Kamakura. It would be entirely too dangerous to your health. What would your honoured father think of me, if I let you journey so far? He who takes such good care of every passing traveller, such as the Muratomo boy.”
Taniko’s heart sank. “Then send me to my uncle’s house in the capital.”
“Oh, no. Never again will you go to the capital. You disgraced me there once. It will not happen again.”
“I did not disgrace you.”
“There are many there who know that you were the go-between for Akimi and Sogamori. Now Akimi acts the great lady
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