bowed, formally. “I am Shikibu Kogami, wife of the merchant Kogami Norimasa-sum.”
Shuyun nodded. “I am honored.” He did not give his name as it was assumed that everyone aboard would know it.
“My daughter is very ill. She suffers from the gathering of poisons. The right side of her abdomen is afire with the signs of this. She is unable to move from her bed. Honored Brother, could you see her?”
“Is she not in the care of the Tomsoian priest, Shikibu-sum?”
“He has scattered the petals of the spirit flower over her and commended her into the care of the Immortals.” She looked down at the deck. “He can do nothing for her. I am a follower of the True Path, Brother Shuyun, and say my devotions daily. She is my only daughter. I…” The woman’s voice broke, but there were no tears.
“I will come,” the monk said, looking into the woman’s careworn face.
Descending into the dull lamplight of the aft cabins, Shuyun was confronted with the overpowering scent of the spirit flower. The Botahists always took this smell as a bad omen.
On deck a mere zephyr touched Kogami’s neck and somehow that reinforced the tranquillity that had come over him when he saw his wife walk across the deck toward the Botahist Brother.
“The currents of Life cannot be refused. They are the only coursepossible. The most powerful Emperor may choose at what hour of the morning he will rise, but whether his spirit will slip away before the dawn, this he cannot order.” So the teachings of Botahara read. Kogami felt every muscle in his body relax.
The priest grabbed his shoulder roughly, “You must stop her!” he hissed as the monk disappeared below.
“I cannot,” Kogami said quietly, not even struggling to free himself. “You have given my daughter into the hands of the Immortal Ones. She is no longer your charge.”
“Nor is she that monk’s! You damn her for eternity. Do you not understand that? They defile the sanctified human form. Her spirit will be cursed and condemned to darkness!”
“But I can do nothing, Ashigaru-sum. The monk has been asked to attend her. I will not humiliate my wife by ordering him away.”
“You will not humble yourself, you mean. You fear the boy: How could Jaku Katta-sum have chosen a coward for this matter?”
“And what of you, Ashigaru-sum? Will you defy the young Brother? Or has Jaku Katta chosen two cowards?” Kogami snorted, unable to contain his contempt for the priest any longer. He realized that the crew was watching, wondering what would happen, but it no longer mattered.
I cannot sacrifice my daughter to the Emperor’s intrigues, he thought.
Unseen by the priest and the bureaucrat, a sailor slipped below to the captain’s quarters.
The priest pulled himself up to his full height, staring down at the small man dressed like a successful trader. He gathered his robe about him and walked away with exaggerated dignity to the aft companionway.
Kogami Norimasa made no move to follow. The currents swirled about him, he would not struggle.
In the woman’s cabin, the Botahist monk knelt in the lamplight beside the bed of the stricken girl. She lay, obviously drugged, yet still in considerable pain, and though she made no sound her eyes screamed with the effort. The maidservant had opened the girl’s robe, shaking off the petals of the sanja flower. Shuyun could see the swelling—red, and radiating heat. The mother had understood, even if the fool of a priest had not.
“You must be still,” Shuyun said, his voice strong and assured like one much older. “I will not hurt you. You need not worry.”
She managed half a smile that dissolved into a shudder of pain.
The monk took a small crystal from a gold chain around his neck and held the cylinder lengthwise between his thumb and forefinger. A pale, green light seemed to come from within the polished stone, though it may have been only refracted moonlight. Moving the stone above the girl’s skin, Shuyun slowly
Shuyun nodded. “I am honored.” He did not give his name as it was assumed that everyone aboard would know it.
“My daughter is very ill. She suffers from the gathering of poisons. The right side of her abdomen is afire with the signs of this. She is unable to move from her bed. Honored Brother, could you see her?”
“Is she not in the care of the Tomsoian priest, Shikibu-sum?”
“He has scattered the petals of the spirit flower over her and commended her into the care of the Immortals.” She looked down at the deck. “He can do nothing for her. I am a follower of the True Path, Brother Shuyun, and say my devotions daily. She is my only daughter. I…” The woman’s voice broke, but there were no tears.
“I will come,” the monk said, looking into the woman’s careworn face.
Descending into the dull lamplight of the aft cabins, Shuyun was confronted with the overpowering scent of the spirit flower. The Botahists always took this smell as a bad omen.
On deck a mere zephyr touched Kogami’s neck and somehow that reinforced the tranquillity that had come over him when he saw his wife walk across the deck toward the Botahist Brother.
“The currents of Life cannot be refused. They are the only coursepossible. The most powerful Emperor may choose at what hour of the morning he will rise, but whether his spirit will slip away before the dawn, this he cannot order.” So the teachings of Botahara read. Kogami felt every muscle in his body relax.
The priest grabbed his shoulder roughly, “You must stop her!” he hissed as the monk disappeared below.
“I cannot,” Kogami said quietly, not even struggling to free himself. “You have given my daughter into the hands of the Immortal Ones. She is no longer your charge.”
“Nor is she that monk’s! You damn her for eternity. Do you not understand that? They defile the sanctified human form. Her spirit will be cursed and condemned to darkness!”
“But I can do nothing, Ashigaru-sum. The monk has been asked to attend her. I will not humiliate my wife by ordering him away.”
“You will not humble yourself, you mean. You fear the boy: How could Jaku Katta-sum have chosen a coward for this matter?”
“And what of you, Ashigaru-sum? Will you defy the young Brother? Or has Jaku Katta chosen two cowards?” Kogami snorted, unable to contain his contempt for the priest any longer. He realized that the crew was watching, wondering what would happen, but it no longer mattered.
I cannot sacrifice my daughter to the Emperor’s intrigues, he thought.
Unseen by the priest and the bureaucrat, a sailor slipped below to the captain’s quarters.
The priest pulled himself up to his full height, staring down at the small man dressed like a successful trader. He gathered his robe about him and walked away with exaggerated dignity to the aft companionway.
Kogami Norimasa made no move to follow. The currents swirled about him, he would not struggle.
In the woman’s cabin, the Botahist monk knelt in the lamplight beside the bed of the stricken girl. She lay, obviously drugged, yet still in considerable pain, and though she made no sound her eyes screamed with the effort. The maidservant had opened the girl’s robe, shaking off the petals of the sanja flower. Shuyun could see the swelling—red, and radiating heat. The mother had understood, even if the fool of a priest had not.
“You must be still,” Shuyun said, his voice strong and assured like one much older. “I will not hurt you. You need not worry.”
She managed half a smile that dissolved into a shudder of pain.
The monk took a small crystal from a gold chain around his neck and held the cylinder lengthwise between his thumb and forefinger. A pale, green light seemed to come from within the polished stone, though it may have been only refracted moonlight. Moving the stone above the girl’s skin, Shuyun slowly
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