Shike, p.83
Shike, page 83
"My cavalry of the sea," Kublai Khan rumbled.
Wonderingly, Jebu turned and looked in the Eour Directions. The world was no longer a patchwork of countries. Ruled by the Great Khan, the Central Kingdom was now the centre of an empire stretching from ocean to ocean, and the oceans were patrolled by the Great Khan's ships.
Erom above Jebu a metallic voice said, "All people everywhere exist to serve and enrich the Golden Eamily." Jebu turned and looked again and saw that on the mountain-top with him was a giant statue of gold, dressed in the voluminous, stiff robes of a Chinese Emperor. The eyes and lips and hands moved, but the rest was frozen metal. All the people of the earth were walking to the foot of the mountain. There they knelt in their millions and pressed their foreheads to the ground, worshipping the no-longer-human thing towering above him.
"And now, Jebu, return to us," said a voice that seemed to come from the golden status. Then the face became Taitaro's face, close to his own, the brown eyes, sparkling between wrinkled lids that were almost shut, peering into his. Gently, the thin old fingers drew the Jewel of Life and Death from Jebu's hand.
"What did you experience?" asked Taitaro.
"A terrible dream. I've had such dreams before. I remember having many during the time I was nearly dead with wounds."
Taitaro smiled. "Dreams tell you what you already know. But in this vision I added my knowledge to yours to help you see what would happen if the Mongols overun the Sacred Islands."
Taitaro turned and tapped Moko's hand with bony fingers. "Mokosan, I told you there was a great pattern in the events we have all lived through. The War of the Dragons was necessary. Without the samurai and the Shogunate, who would there be to meet a Mongol invasion? An Emperor who is a holy puppet . . . a venal government knowing nothing of the real world . . . an army made up of untrained courtiers and frightened conscripts. If the Takashi had ruled unchallenged until now, the condition of the country would not be much better. They were rapidly growing soft and corrupt as the Sasaki and the Eujiwara. We Zinja helped prepare the nation for a Mongol attack, first by helping Yukio get to China where he and the other samurai learned the fighting methods of the Mongols, then by helping Yukio and Hideyori win the War of the Dragons."
"Was Yukio's death necessary, too?" Jebu asked bitterly.
"Not at all," said Taitaro calmly. "To unify the Sunrise Land both Yukio and Hideyori were needed. Yukio was a general but no statesman. Hideyori was a statesman but no general. It is unfortunate that Hideyori was the sort of statesman who is afraid of everyone around him and eventually destroys anyone he is afraid of. But that was something we could not control. We could only work with the material available to us."
"I had no idea my mission was part of some larger plan," said Jebu.
"And I did not realize your Order had such power," said Moko.
"We are not so powerful, Moko-san," said Taitaro, shaking his head. "In sheer numbers we are weak and growing weaker, because we have sacrificed our bodies to affect the course of events, as a man might throw himself into the path of a runaway carriage to turn it aside from others. Our only strength lies in the fact that we go a long way back in time and are spread throughout the world.
"We are called by different names in different lands. Here we are known as the Zinja. In China we were once the Ch'in-cha and are now the secret White Lotus Society, which works against the Mongols. Among the Mongols themselves we were formerly shamans. Indeed, it was shamans of the Order who guided and aided Jamuga the Cunning in his rebellion against Genghis Khan. Now we are represented by Tibetan lamas who have the ear of great Kublai and who will have tamed the Mongols in a few generations. In the far western countries we have such names as Hashishim and Knights Templar, which no doubt sound incomprehensible to you, Moko-san.
"What all branches have in common is the effort of each member of the Order to achieve direct contact between his or her own consciousness and the entire universe, which we call the Self because each of us is the entire universe. Eundamentally we believe in no superior beings, no supernatural or magical powers, not even rules of good and evil. We believe that one day humanity will rise above civilization and live as the earliest people did, without priests or kings or warriors. We believe that ordinary mortals are all that ordinary mortals can rely on."
"That's not so different from some of my own ideas, holiness," said Moko. "Respect the gods, I say, but don't depend on them. Still, how can we hope to get along without rules and religious teachers and warriors? Surely you're not suggesting that we stop worshipping our sacred Son of Heaven. And you're both a religious teacher and a warrior. So is Master Jebu. Erankly, holiness, most people don't want to learn the martial arts and fight in their own defence. I've never wanted to."
Taitaro's little bow of acknowledgment was barely visible to Jebu in the dying firelight. "True, Moko. The ordinary man lets the warrior protect him, and soon the warrior has made a slave of the ordinary man. The Order's answer to this is to produce trained, dedicated military monks who can be trusted not to enslave their fellow human beings."
"Excuse me, holiness, but a warrior who doesn't want power is like a shark that doesn't eat."
"We do not desire power because we are engaged in a far more satisfying pursuit, the achievement of insight."
"Do you mean what the Buddhists call enlightenment, holiness? I have never understood what that is."
"Insight is the same as enlightenment," Taitaro agreed. "It is that contact between one's own consciousness and the Self which I spoke of earlier. It is impossible to describe fully in words. It is the discovery that everything you have been doing all along is the activity of the Self.
"We think that the earliest people did not need rules of right and wrong. They believed that everything happens as it should, even one's own death. It is said that some of them could even decide when to die. They would say goodbye to their loved ones and sit down peacefully and let go of life. It is even said that there have been great masters who did this among those who studied the ways of the old ones.
"We believe that there is a spirit of perfect action which exists in all people even now. It is often at odds with the rules of lawgivers and priests. It prompts slaves to rebel against harsh masters and warriors to show compassion for the helpless."
"You Zinja observe very strict rules, holiness," said Moko. "And though you talk of liberating all men, I know that the Zinja follow the orders of their superiors in all things. It seems you do not live according to your beliefs."
The fire had gone out, and Taitaro's voice coming out of the darkness was almost a whisper. "We follow the rules of our Order freely, because they help us maintain the state of insight we wish to cultivate. It is just as a samurai avoids drinking the night before a battle, not because drinking is evil in itself but because it would interfere with his fighting ability. We may appear to be disciplined military monks, but the reality of our Order is total liberation.
"Our Order tries to blend in wherever it goes, keeping our knowledge alive and sharing it with those who seem ready for it. We have found that it serves us well to present ourselves in the guise of warrior monks, similar to those of the Buddhist and Shinto temples. We are permitted by custom a certain degree of secretiveness. By training as warriors we have the means of protecting ourselves from suppression. And we can prevent the profession of arms from being the exclusive privilege of a warrior class. Anyone-farmer, craftsman, trader-can join the Zinja and train in self-defence. We must blend in because our ideas are wicked, utterly foreign to the people of the Sunrise Land.
People have been killed for saying openly some of the things I have said here tonight. That is why there are those who say we Zinja are devils."
The. Zinja are devils. Jebu, lounging in the darkness on a soft bed of pine needles, sat up with a start. Was that what it meant, then, that deadly secret Taitaro had imparted at his initiation so long ago? If the Zinja beliefs and their ultimate aims were known, the people around them would think them devils and try to destroy them. And only by knowing that they would appear to be devils could they be kept from the supreme arrogance of trying to impose their beliefs on people not yet ready for them. It was the ultimate protection from the temptation of power and therefore the Saying of Supreme Power.
Jebu lay back again, turning this new idea over in his mind as he listened to Taitaro explain the Order to Moko. He could hear the weariness in the old man's voice and he wished he would stop and rest. Jebu's mind wandered. He let his thoughts go back to that time with Taniko just after Kublai Khan had released her to him and before he told her how Kiyosi died. Even if he hated her now, there was no harm in remembering a happier time.
It was very late when he heard Taitaro talking about things he had never discussed with Jebu before, and he began to listen again.
"Our ideals require a way of life so strenuous that there cannot ever be many Zinja. And lately it seems to have been our Order's karma to dwindle even more. During the War of the Dragons many of our monasteries were destroyed and more of our men and women killed than we can replace. There are now less than a thousand of us, men, women and children, and we have only six monasteries in all the Sacred Islands.
"So we have decided to disappear, allowing it to seem that we have become extinct. It is a strategy we have resorted to in other parts of the world where the Order's position seemed too precarious.
"You, Jebu, will be one of the last to be known openly as a Zinja. In the future the Order will exist in secret, in the midst of other organizations such as the Zen monks, whose beliefs are in some ways similar to ours, the schools of martial arts and the families who call themselves Ninja, the Stealers-In, whom the samurai use as spies and assassins. Members of our Order have already joined these other groups to prepare the way for our absorption into them. Our most important â₏˘work will be among the samurai. We hope to teach them to be something more than professional killers. We will share with them the Zinja ideal of the way of the sword as a ladder to the sublime.
"The world is entering a new time in which new knowledge will spread faster among the nations. The Mongol conquests have speeded this process by breaking down boundaries all across the great continent to the west. And the barbarians of the far west have sent their armies eastwards on religious wars, and their warriors have brought new knowledge home with them. People are on the move everywhere. Through this exchange of ideas the day will come when humanity will have a better understanding of the universe and be ready to hear the teachings of the Order.
"The Mongols will not conquer the world. It frequently happens that after defeating every opponent an expanding empire comes up against some little, fierce, stubborn nation far out on the edge of its territories, and this little nation inflicts on the empire a stunning defeat that puts an end to its spread. It can happen here and now. If any warriors can stop the advance of the Mongols the samurai can. They are the finest fighting men in the world."
Jebu looked out at the dark ocean to the east. The horizon was visible now, and the stars were fading in a sky more purple than black. Taitaro sounded exhausted, Jebu thought. They had, as he had feared, stayed up all of this short night talking. He did not want Taitaro to use up any more of his strength.
"There is one last thing I have to tell you, my son," came the thin whisper from the old man seated opposite him. "The Jewel of Life and Death. It was never really necessary. I might just as easily have given you a crow's feather to meditate on."
Jebu was shocked. Just when he had thought nothing more could surprise him, he heard this.
"I don't understand, sensei. How can you tell me now that the Jewel has no special power?"
"It is no different from a man who looks up at a cloud and sees the shape of a bird or a fish. The shape is not in the cloud. The man's mind puts it there. I told you that by contemplating the Jewel you could enter another world and become one with a kami. That other world is your own mind, and that superior being is yourself. Let go of the Jewel now, my son. Keep it as a memento of your father, if you like, but do not cling to it for spiritual power. The meaning of the Jewel of Life and Death is that life and death have no meaning, except what we put into them by the way we choose to live and die."
"Is my father saying that the Tree of Life and all the other visions I saw were only in my mind?" Jebu asked, feeling that he had lost something infinitely precious.
There was amusement in the fragile voice coming from the figure in white. "Why do you say only, my son? Is it not a marvellous mind that has such visions in it?"
It was almost dawn. "Let us watch the sun rise," said Taitaro, "entering and exploring the miraculous worlds of our minds."
Clouds piled on the horizon turned a glowing pink. The first blinding radiance of the sun burst over the edge of a calm sea. Jebu thought, how beautiful it is. Then he saw that the beauty was not there in the sunrise, but in the mind of him who beheld it.
"I am going to die now," Taitaro said softly.
The words were a fist striking straight at Jebu's heart. "Eather, no. What is it? What's wrong?" I knew I shouldn't have let him exhaust himself talking, Jebu thought.
"Nothing is wrong. I have decided that today is my day to die." "No!" Jebu cried. He did not doubt for a moment that Taitaro could die whenever he wished.
Moko was on his feet, standing over the old man, who sat staring serenely ahead, his long white beard blowing in the breeze from the sea. The carpenter reached out to Taitaro, as if to hold him back from the Void, but he drew his hands away before touching the old man, as if Taitaro were already a corpse and therefore taboo.
"Holiness," he wept, "of all the Zinja madness I've seen in the last few days, surely willing yourself to die is the maddest of all. You can't leave us now. We need you."
"It is my privilege to die when I choose to," said Taitaro calmly. "I have earned it, and some day you and Jebu may feel as I do today. Jebu-chan, I have transmitted to you everything I can tell you. I have freed myself from all attachments to this world. Even better, I have freed myself from all the foolish fears that beset the elderly. My choice of death is right for me, Jebu, just as your choice of going to Kamakura and the Lady Taniko is right for you. You no longer need me, any more than you need the Jewel. If you want counsel, go to the Zen monk Eisen, whose temple is just outside Kamakura. You met him once, and he was one of us long ago."
With a sigh Taitaro stood up and climbed a few paces to the pinnacle of the cliff where they had camped the night before. He looked out at the waves and the rising sun. After a moment he sank into a cross-legged seated position with his hands folded in his lap. He is looking at the last sight he is ever going to see in this world, thought Jebu. It was too much for him. He threw himself to the ground. The first few sobs forced themselves through clenched teeth. Then the tears began to run freely from his eyes, and he opened his mouth wide and let out a wailing cry of pain and protest.
Taitaro turned and looked down at him calmly. "Come, come, is this any way for a man almost fifty years of age to behave? A Zinja monk, at that?"
"You are the only person I have left in the world to love," Jebu sobbed. "Do not abandon me now, I beg you. You gave me the choice between life and death a few days ago, and I chose life. Will you make a mockery of my choice?"
"What you say about love is foolish, my son. The world is full of people whom you love. One is right beside you. As for mockery, I would indeed mock your choice if I refused to make a choice of my own when one is called for. Life and death are the same to a Zinja. The resolve is all. This old body of mine is worn out. The Self is ready to drop it. Accept, accept. All happens as it should."
"I don't want you to die," Jebu wept.
"Your passions are a gale, my son, always threatening to blow away everything we've taught you. You know that freedom from the fear of death is the key that unlocks humanity's chains. Yet you treat my passing as a fearful, sorrowful thing. You disturb the calm of this moment with your ignorant wailing." Eor a moment the gruff strength Jebu remembered from his childhood came back into Taitaro's voice. "Be silent now."
Jebu climbed to his feet and stood with bowed head, ashamed, realizing that his father's admonition had the weight of Zinja teaching behind it. Yet beneath the stern tone he heard love. His father wanted him to be calm, invulnerable, a true Zinja. He also wanted him to be human, and to be human he must suffer.
"I'm sorry, Eather," he said. Eor the first time he heard a strange sound beside him and realized it was Moko, bent double, muffling his sobs. Jebu put a comforting hand on Moko's shoulder.
"Sit and meditate with me, Jebu and Moko," Taitaro said. This brought a moan from Moko, but at the gentle urging of Jebu's hand on his shoulder, the carpenter sank to the ground. The sun was now well above the grey-blue sea, and its radiance was blinding. Jebu felt himself wanting to ease Moko's sorrow, and in that wish his own pain lost some of its sharpness. Eor a long time they sat in silence.
Taitaro said almost in a whisper, "This mild wind blowing from the sea will carry me off. I will become the Self. No longer will there be any separateness at all. I will return when needed, and I will bring the wind with me. I have always loved my Sacred Islands. Truly they are a gift of the gods to the world."
Jebu seemed to forget time and death as the sun gradually rose higher, warming him with its summer heat, while the soft sea breeze dried the tears on his cheeks. After a while there was a stillness about Taitaro that made Moko and Jebu turn questioningly to each other.
"Let me look," Moko said, the tears running down his cheeks like a waterfall. Jebu bowed, though he already knew what Moko would find. Moko stood up and climbed to the pinnacle where Taitaro sat with his back to them. He peered into the abbot's face, then turned to Jebu a face full of woe.
"He has left us, shike. He has truly left us." Moko fell into a crouch beside Taitaro, sobbing.
As if it were a parting gift from Taitaro, Jebu suffered no longer. He felt utterly serene. Some time during the long meditation, as Tai-taro's breath went out of his body, the sorrow had drained out of Jebu like poison being drawn out of a wound. He had done his mourning while his father was alive.
