Shike by Robert J. Shea (classic children's novels txt) 📖

“Things aren’t that simple, as you know well, Lady Taniko,” Yukio said with a smile. “Not only did your intervention help my mother to make her painful bargain with the vile Sogamori, but your father, Lord Shima Bokuden, has sheltered my brother on Kamakura ever since my father’s defeat and death.”

“Quite true,” said Jebu. “I took Lord Hideyori to Lord Shima Bokuden myself.”

“Oh,” said Taniko, looking down at her bowl of tea. She was tempted to remain silent, but she reminded herself that Yukio was a friend and ally of Jebu. She knew something of the utmost importance to Yukio, and it was her duty to speak.

“Please forgive me, Lord Yukio, but my father no longer shelters your esteemed brother.”

Yukio narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean?”

“When I tell you, it may give you such pain that you will forget all about gratitude and will hate the Shima family.”

“Please,” said Yukio anxiously. “What has happened to my brother?”

“I do not know for certain,” said Taniko. “Prince Horigawa kept me a prisoner before taking me to China. But I heard from a servant that Sogamori had ordered my father to execute your brother.”

Yukio’s eyes, wild with shock and anger, transfixed Taniko. “Why? Why, after he let him live all those years, would he kill my brother?”

Taniko looked down at her hands and said softly, “Excuse me, please, for mentioning it, but Sogamori’s eldest son, Takashi no Kiyosi, was killed in the fighting when you left Hakata Bay, Lord Yukio. Sogamori was quite maddened with rage and sorrow, and I was told he ordered the death of your brother as his only means of avenging himself on your family.”

Slowly Yukio turned his head and gave Jebu a long look. At last he said, “It should have been I. Better if I had died, rather than Hideyori. Now the clan has lost its chieftain.”

“Now you are the chieftain of the Muratomo,” said Jebu.

Yukio looked at Jebu with an agonized wonder in his eyes, like a horse wounded in battle that must be killed to spare it pain. Jebu looked back with almost as much suffering.

Yukio stood up. “I must leave. I must be alone for a time.” He bowed quickly, turned and hurried out of the yurt, his hand on his sword hilt.

Good, thought Taniko calmly. Suffer a little, Yukio, as I have suffered each day, remembering Kiyosi’s death.

Jebu sat looking after Yukio, then turned to stare at Taniko. There was such anguish on his hard, rawboned face that Taniko reached out and took his hand. His hand lay in hers, cold and lifeless.

“Don’t reproach yourself for Hideyori’s death. Sogamori is the one to blame. He gave the order to execute Hideyori. Nothing you or Yukio did need have caused that.”

A light came into Jebu’s eyes. “Do you really think so?”

There was a knock at the door of the yurt. Jebu was still staring at Taniko. She had been about to answer his question, but the knocking distracted her. It came again and this time Jebu heard it and called the visitor to enter.

It was Moko. Taniko had not seen him in the seventeen years since he fled Daidoji. Her heart leaped at the sight of the crossed eyes under a red Mongol cap with long ear flaps.

Moko threw himself full length to the floor and kissed the carpet in front of her. He was sobbing and wailing loudly. He looked up at her once, shook his head and then fell into a fresh paroxysm of weeping.

“Eorgive me, my lady,” he choked out at last.

“I would be weeping, too, Moko,” said Taniko gently, “except that I’ve used up all my tears in the last few days.”

“Oh, my lady, you have suffered so. But now you and the shik�� are together at last.”

Taniko took Moko’s hand and guided him to the place Yukio had just vacated. “So you’re still with him, Moko. I wonder how a useful citizen like yourself could find employment wandering about with this monk who is little better than a bandit.”

Moko laughed. “The shik�� has made my fortune for me, lady. The Great Khan has been most generous. We are all rich.” His face fell suddenly. “Those of us who are left alive.” He bowed his thanks as Taniko handed him a bowl of ch’ai, then turned to Jebu. “Shik��, I saw the Lord Yukio come out of your yurt a moment ago with a face like the sky before a tai-phun. What’s wrong?”

“Lord Yukio has learned that his elder brother is probably dead,” said Jebu.

“It means he is the last of his line,” said Taniko. “Think of it. Captain Domei had five sons. One would have supposed the future of the Muratomo to be quite secure. Now only Yukio is left. How quickly war can destroy a family.”

How quickly war had destroyed her own family. Odd, that Yukio had said no word of sympathy to her about Kiyosi’s death. He had known Kiyosi at the Rokuhara, and had known that she was Kiyosi’s consort. Perhaps Yukio felt too ashamed to speak to her about it.

“It is difficult for me to feel sorry for Lord Yukio,” Taniko said suddenly. She realized at once she had said more than she wished to. To explain the remark would mean telling Jebu just how much Kiyosi meant to her.

“He has just learned that his last living brother was killed,” said Jebu.

Taniko thought quickly. “Yes, but I once met Muratomo no Hideyori. He made it quite clear to me that he felt no love at all for his younger brother. He was at pains to point out that he and Yukio did not have the same mother, and that Yukio’s mother, my friend Lady Akimi, was not married to Captain Domei. Since Hideyori had so little liking for him, I’m surprised that what happened to Hideyori matters so much to Lord Yukio.”

“However Hideyori may have felt about Yukio, Yukio always looked up to him,” said Jebu. “He admired Hideyori, and always reminded us that Hideyori was the true chieftain of the Muratomo clan.”

“My remark was foolish,” said Taniko. “Eorgive me.” But she saw Jebu eyeing her closely. One day, Jebu, I shall tell you how much Kiyosi meant to me, she thought. How, in some ways, the loss of him was more painful than the loss of you. Because for ten years Kiyosi and I were nearly husband and wife. We had a son together, Jebu, a beautiful boy. Then one day an arrow flew and all was lost.

She must change the subject before Jebu asked her any more questions. She turned to Moko, and noticed something she hadn’t seen before.

“Moko. Your teeth.”

Moko smiled broadly. Where there had been dark, empty spaces in his grin, there were now white teeth that gleamed like peeled onions. Proud of his new smile, he held it for Taniko.

“Is this some sort of magic?” Taniko laughed.

“When one is part of a conquering army, my lady, rich with the spoils of war, one can purchase anything, even new teeth. These were made of ivory for me by a Chinese sculptor. I thought of having him carve me a set from black jade, but I decided that would be getting above my station.”

Taniko peered more closely at Moko’s mouth. “Ivory. Yes, I see now. They’re a little too perfect to be real. Are they comfortable? Can you eat with them?”

“Better than I could without them. There are various minor problems, but on the whole I am a better man. The ladies who know me think so as well.”

Taniko smiled. “So, Moko, you have followed Jebu to China, just as you once promised. Have you had much chance to exercise your skills as a carpenter?”

Moko nodded happily, pouring himself another cup of ch’ai and whipping it to a froth. “Lady, I now know more about carpentry than any joiner on the Sacred Islands. Everywhere we have travelled I’ve studied buildings and talked to the members of the local carpenters’ guild. I’ve even learned how they build their mud-brick palaces in Mongolia. And I don’t just know about houses, my lady. I’ve studied junks and sampans from one end of China to the other. I believe I could build you anything from a Nan Chao dugout canoe to a Linan sea-going merchant vessel with sixteen masts.”

“Or a warship,” Jebu remarked.

“Of course,” said Moko. He looked uneasily at Taniko. “But I have no desire to build warships. Useless things, except for destruction and killing.”

He’s remembered that Kiyosi died aboard a warship, Taniko thought. A memory came to her. Long ago she had sent Moko to the Rokujoga-hara to see the executions of Domei and his followers. Moko had come back with a tale of having been seen by Kiyosi in a tree above the Emperor’s head and having been spared by him. Yes, Moko, too, has reason to mourn Kiyosi, she thought.

“I’ve also performed many services for our samurai,” Moko went on. “I was in charge of food and supplies. I learned to bargain with Chinese traders and get the most and best for the least money. I also helped the shik��‘s father, the holy man Taitaro, to treat our sick and wounded.”

Taniko said, “Your honoured father, Jebu, yes. Why have I not had a chance to pay my respects to him?”

Jebu shook his head. “He’s on another one of his mysterious journeys. He said he was meeting with members of the Chinese and Tibetan branches of the Order.”

“I owe much to the shik�� and to you, my lady,” Moko said. “I’m going to do something for you now that will speak my gratitude in a small way.”

“Moko,” said Jebu softly, “you owe us no debt. Your companionship has been treasure enough.”

“Yes, Mokosan,” Taniko agreed. “You have saved my life many times over.”

The little man waved his hands. “No, I’m going to build a house for you. I’ll design it, I’ll provide the materials. I’ll hire the workers. It will be the most beautiful house in Khan Baligh. Not the biggest or the most costly, but I think that with what I know about building it will make the Great Khan himself envious.”

Taniko was torn. She knew how much giving such a gift would mean to Moko. She could not refuse it. But it seemed to her too grand a gift to accept.

“You will shame us with such a gift,” said Jebu.

“You will shame me if you do not take it,” said Moko, his eyes glistening with tears.

“Excuse me, but I don’t think there will be time for this gift. Perhaps, Moko, it would be best for you to plan to build this house in Heian Kyo.” It was Yukio who spoke.

They turned and stared at him. He was standing in the doorway of Jebu’s yurt, a grim smile on his face.

“Eorgive me for entering without knocking,” Yukio said. “I have been walking about, thinking, since I left you. I have accepted my karma. I am now clan chieftain of the Muratomo. I am the last of my line. If the Muratomso are to be avenged on Sogamori, it must be through me. These wars in China have prepared me for the task. There are less than three hundred left of our countrymen who followed us here, but we have over two thousand warriors in all, and many of them will follow me for battle and for pay. I will not waste myself fighting the Sung, when I could be fighting my real enemy, Sogamori. When we return home, we’ll find a whole new generation of samurai waiting for us. Those Muratomo who were boys when we left will be men now, and