The Tengu's Game of Go by Lian Hearn Page A

moment, his brother might make a signal and the unseen guards would emerge and fall on him. He felt his right hand edge closer to the cane he had placed beside him. They might not be expecting to fight a man trained by a tengu.
    The movement, slight as it was, did not escape Kiku. “I can understand that you don’t trust us. We treated you very badly.”
    Kuro raised his head and said, “Not me. I wasn’t there. I don’t see why I should have to grovel.”
    Kiku made a gesture to silence him. “Those old rituals demand a high price. We have all paid it in different ways. But it was worth it. You will see the power I have drawn from the skull. Gessho was an extraordinary man.”
    â€œIn other words, you would do the same thing again,” Mu said, more amused than angry.
    â€œWell, I suppose I would. I am glad we can be honest with each other. Tsunetomo, you may sit up now. My brother understands, and to understand is to forgive.” He addressed Mu again. “Really, Tsunetomo has nothing to apologize for. He agreed to serve me, he was obeying me. Any offense was mine alone. But I thought you would like to see such a warrior prostrate before you. It is quite a pleasing sight, isn’t it? I never tire of it. From now on, you and I are as one, in his eyes and the eyes of all his men. You only have to say the word and they will grovel at your feet. They will thrust their swords into their own throats if you command it.”
    â€œWhy have you summoned me here?” Mu said.
    â€œSo we are reconciled?” Kiku exclaimed. “Come closer so I can embrace you.”
    â€œWe needn’t go that far,” Mu returned.
    â€œIt’s what people do!” Kiku’s face was more animated now, as though he, too, found their situation amusing. “We embrace to show we are reconciled, and as long as one of us doesn’t take advantage of the hug to stab the other in the back, we are friends, from now on, as brothers should be.”
    Mu began to laugh. He understood Kiku perfectly, as no one else ever would. He went forward and they embraced briefly. As he held the thin, wiry frame, so similar to his own, he felt he could read every thought that arose within his brother’s mind.
    â€œLet’s drink!” Kiku clapped his hands to summon servants and wine.
    After the first cups were filled and emptied, Kiku told Chika and Tsunetomo to leave, and take the guards with them. The wall hangings rippled as though a mild earthquake had struck, and an assortment of warriors poured out. Like the guards at the gate, many had limbs missing, a leg made from carved wood, a metal hook in place of a hand. Some had lost part of their skull and covered the wounds with a variety of masks, some had terrible scars or had suffered burns that left the skin seared white. Each made a reverent bow to Mu as they filed past him.
    â€œThat’s just a small part of them,” Kiku said. “Aren’t they hideous? My crippled army. Hideous in the eyes of men but beautiful to me. I like looking at their scars and their injuries and contemplating their courage and their endurance, all now dedicated to my service.”
    â€œHow do you do it?” Mu asked. He couldn’t help admiring Kiku’s effrontery.
    â€œMen are not hard to manipulate,” Kiku replied, pouring more wine into Mu’s cup. “Especially warriors, who are so proud and so single-minded. Loyalty and courage are everything to them. Give them the opportunity to risk their lives a couple of times a month and they are happy.”
    â€œBut who do they fight against?” Mu said, draining the cup and holding it out for a refill.
    â€œThat’s a very good question. Now that we’ve wiped out the bandits on land and subdued the pirates at sea, we are running out of opponents. My cripples are getting restless. Their old wounds ache at night and remind them of ancient grudges. Cleaning up a pack