"Sean Russell - The Initiate Brother 2 - Gatherer of Clouds" - читать интересную книгу автора (Russell Sean)

guard thought he could bear it no more, a hint of a breeze, a mere sigh, tugged at the pennants. Against a
dark field, a Choka hawk spread its wings, appeared to take a single beat, and then collapsed as the fickle
breeze died.

The guard was off at a run toward the Governor’s Palace. As he crossed the bridge, a young Botahist
monk hurried past in the opposite direction though the young soldier did not notice, let alone return, the
monk’s half bow. There was no time to be polite to strangers. Jaku Katta had arrived—and several days
before he was expected.

Corporal Rohku pushed on, keeping up his pace until reaching his destination, whereupon he spent several
moments regaining his breath before he could give his report with any show of dignity.
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General Hojo Masakado, Lord Shonto Motoru’s senior military advisor, knelt so that he was between his
liege-lord and the two openings to the room—screens leading to an outer room and the balcony. It was an
old habit, one which he had developed in service to Shonto’s father during the Interim Wars. Having served
two generations of Shonto was a source of great pride to Hojo and he often found himself comparing the
two lords. Physically they were obviously father and son, the high, broad Shonto forehead seemed to miss
few generations, and both lords were exactly the same height and weight-slightly more than average in
both. Personalities differed, however. The father had been more reserved and formal, a biographer and
historian of some note; his humor was dry and intellectual. Motoru was far less formal, more inclined to a
social life, enjoying the company of those much older and noticeably younger than himself. He had the
ability of great leaders to make everyone comfortable in his presence.

Lord Shonto sat before a low table across from Hojo and the Shonto family Spiritual Advisor, Initiate
Brother Shuyun, each of whom bent over the table in turn and examined three small coins that lay on the
fine-grained wood—square gold coins with round holes in their centers.

“There is no question, Sire,” General Hojo said, “they are identical.”

Shonto turned to the Botahist Brother, raising an eyebrow in characteristic fashion. Shuyun held the coin in
the palm of his small hand, staring with the ageless eyes remarked upon by everyone who met him. Hojo
reminded himself that this small monk, no larger, and barely older than Lady Nishima, had once defeated
the most famed kick boxer in all of Wa. Despite his appearance and quiet manner, he was as formidable a
warrior as General Hojo—perhaps more so.

“I agree entirely, Lord Shonto,” Shuyun said. “They have even been struck by the same die. A small
irregularity can be felt along the inner edge.” He turned the coin over and ran the ball of his index finger
around the central hole. Both Hojo and Shonto did the same, with some concentration. Shonto looked at his
general and Hojo shook his head almost imperceptibly.

“I do not doubt that you are right, Shuyun-sum,” Shonto said, “though it is beyond my senses to feel this.”
The lord turned the disk over in his hand and realized he held the coin that had been taken from the raiding
barbarian warrior. The strange dragon etched into its lustrous surface seemed to look at him with some
suspicion. “Lord Kintari’s dissolute son, a barbarian warrior, and now the coins Lady Nishima brings from
Tanaka: ‘from a trunk the Imperial Guard spirited onto a ship,’ Tanaka tells us. A ship bound north. That is
all we know.”

They fell silent and a sudden cloudburst unleashed a torrent of hail which battered the tile roof with a clatter
that would not allow quiet conversation—private conversation. Shonto reached over and opened the screen
a crack that they might watch the spectacle.