The Apothecary Diaries - Volume 8 - Chapter 15

Chapter 15: The Go Contest (Interlude)

“There, that should do it.” Maamei finished some work and stopped to stretch. The Moon Prince’s office was far neater and more orderly than it had been before they’d redistributed the mountain of paperwork to the people whose actual jobs the assignments were.

Only one other person was in the office with Maamei: her younger brother, Baryou, who occupied a sectioned-off corner of the room.

“Ryou, think you’ll be able to wrap things up?” She could take such an informal tone since it was just the two of them. Then again, she would have comported herself exactly the same even if the Moon Prince had been present.

“Yes, I should be able to finish the rest today,” Baryou said. His face, pale as an unripe gourd, peeked over the divider. He never spoke or even showed himself except in front of those he was closest to. Now he said, “Something in here is not like the others.” He passed Maamei a sheet of paper. “I think perhaps it concerns our dear Kan.”

“Kan?” The surname alone wasn’t enough for Maamei to follow.

“The man of La. Grand Commandant Kan.”

“Ah, the eccentric strategist. Don’t be coy; say what you mean.”

Her brother might not be much for human company, but he had a perfectly firm grasp of who worked where and what their names were. He had a sharp mind, but a frail body and psychological constitution. Maamei was all too aware that a sound body, firm mind, and robust capability rarely met in one person. If Baryou could have been mixed together with her other younger brother, it would have been perfect.

“If it’s no special hurry, let’s take it to him later,” she said.

“Are you quite sure?”

“I don’t think it would serve any purpose even if we took it over this minute.” Maamei plucked a piece of paper from the folds of her robe. On it was written Go Tournament and the details thereof.

“Ahh, that was today?” Baryou said. He had some interest in Go, but lacked the courage to go somewhere there would be so many people. Even if he’d attended the tournament, he would probably have gotten dizzy in the crowd and simply collapsed.

“He’s one of the prime movers. I doubt he’s doing any other work.”

“You’re certain it will be all right?” Baryou asked in a concerned tone as he disappeared once more behind his screen. Maamei could hear him shuffling through papers; evidently he wouldn’t take this as cause to slow down.

“All right or not, he brought it on himself.”

Kan Lakan, the so-called eccentric strategist, and the Moon Prince did not seem to get along very well. Perhaps that was why Lakan had been the chief culprit among those foisting their work on this office. Pushing it right back on him had been Maamei’s main job recently.

“I must say, I’m surprised,” she said. “I never expected him to actually do the work we sent back his way.” Yes, the bargain had been that the strategist could have his tournament venue in exchange for doing the work, but considering who they were dealing with, she’d assumed he might find some way to weasel out of it. “And here I had another plan cooked up in case he didn’t play along.” Her strategy to have his every meal changed to carrot congee—in other words, simple harassment—was all for nothing. It was worth noting that the intelligence regarding Lakan’s distaste for carrots had come from his adopted son.

“They say he’s been sleeping half as much as normal. Grand Commandant Kan, I mean,” Baryou said.

“What, really? I hadn’t heard that.”

“Sir Lahan was here while you were out, sister. I heard him speaking quite volubly to Master Jinshi.”

“Whose side do you suppose he’s on?” she said before she could stop herself. Lahan had, after all, given her information as well. “I hope the commandant’s health isn’t in danger.” It had been quite some time since they’d started sending him his work.

“I’m given to understand it’s not a problem. He may sleep half as much as normal, but he was sleeping half of each day to begin with.”

“Like a baby, he!”

Baryou’s face appeared again, reproving her for such a disrespectful way of talking. Maamei, for her part, had two children, and would have been very happy to have a child who slept so much. Incidentally, the Moon Prince had finally gotten his own sleep up to six hours a night. It spoke to how overworked he’d been.

The desire to help his own tournament succeed had made the commandant more malleable. And he had been told that permission for such an event would certainly not be given if there were piles of work lying around. Thus, for some days now he’d been at it like a man possessed, so that the military camp was, for the moment, busier than usual. As a result, the Moon Prince was able to go home early from the office and even, wonder of wonders, take off today and tomorrow—his first vacation in months.

“I daresay it is odd, though.”

“What’s odd, Ryou?” Maamei straightened some papers against the desk as she spoke.

“I mean, why a Go tournament? I was under the impression Grand Commandant Kan was more partial to Shogi.”

“But he’s a strong Go player as well, isn’t he?”

“Yes, he is. So strong that it’s said only the Sage can beat him. But still...” Baryou lapsed into thought for a moment. “At Shogi, no one at all can best him. He’s a monster at the game.”

“A monster?” Maamei asked. Baryou made it sound like the commandant walked another plane entirely.

“I believe the grand commandant sees a world we do not. One multifaceted and strange and full of wonders. Perhaps that’s why he can’t tell people apart—we’re simply made of stuff too simple for him.”

“You sound like you know him quite well.” Maamei peeked around the barricade at her brother. He was ensconced in paperwork, which he continued to attend to even as they talked.

“The civil service is rife with such people. Those who see a world the rest of us aren’t privy to. Sir Lahan might be the archetypal example. I was practically ordinary in that company.”

“If you’re ordinary, what in the world am I?”

“A sister, a wife, a mother. That’s what you are.”

“Perfectly common, wouldn’t you say?”

She might be hard at work now, but she had children at home. It was all right; they were fond of their nursemaid, and had been weaned. Her husband was a soldier. At the moment, he was either hard at work himself, or sneaking a peek at the Go tournament; it wasn’t clear. He was a good enough man to have granted Maamei permission to return to work, so she wouldn’t press him on how he spent his days.

“The common is quite difficult... I envy you,” Baryou said with a long exhalation. He took a piece of cut bamboo filled with tea and took a sip. The bamboo container was his choice; a tea cup was too likely to spill. He preferred his canteen. “That’s why I don’t understand.”

Maamei was about to ask what it was he didn’t understand, but she stopped herself.

“Why would someone who’s not human have any interest in a tournament?” Baryou turned back to his work, looking for all the world like the matter genuinely made no sense to him. Maamei decided to take her cue from him and get back to what she was doing.

“I’ve something else to attend to, so you’ll be on your own. Is that all right? If you need anything, tell the guard outside,” she said.

“I know, sister. I know.”

Maamei left the office, though she didn’t feel quite right doing it.

It would have been nice to say that with the paperwork safely delivered to its respective departments, Maamei’s work was done, but she had one more task to attend to.

She headed for the Moon Prince’s personal pavilion, passing through a series of gates as she drew near the inner court. Each time she showed her permission and entered.

The comparatively sparse pavilion initially looked somewhat plain for the residence of the Emperor’s younger brother, but only the finest materials had been used; any bureaucrat who thought this place was too simple as good as proclaimed himself to be a man of new riches, blind to true wealth.

The guard at the pavilion let Maamei in as soon as he saw who she was. As she entered she was greeted by a pleasant, sweet aroma. She followed it to the kitchen, where she found an older woman with some baked treats in a square container.

“Welcome,” said the Moon Prince’s attendant, Suiren, with a smile.

“You must pardon the intrusion,” Maamei replied politely, and looked at the snacks. “These look delicious.”

“I should say so. They came out well, but I’ve made a number already and they’re not piping hot anymore. I’ve got some I made a few days ago as well—I was about to do a taste test to see which is the most delicious.”

“I’ve come at an excellent time, then.” Call it a perk of the job. Speaking of the job, though, Maamei mustn’t forget why she was there. She supposed it would be wrong to wonder whether she could take a few treats as a little gift for her children, but at the thought of how overjoyed they would be by the snacks, her own face softened into a smile.

“Something on your mind?” Suiren asked.

“Oh, no. I was simply observing that you have some that are steamed and some that are baked.”

“That’s right. The steamed ones retained their shape better, but the baked treats do smell nicer.” Some of the treats were golden brown; they appeared to have been put in a mooncake mold and baked.

Suiren cut one carefully with a knife and offered some to Maamei. It was full of dried fruit, but the texture was somewhat different from mooncake.

“And here’s this one,” Suiren said, passing her one of the steamed treats as well. This one was light and fluffy, but it came at a cost in fragrance.

“Do you suppose you could bake them, but almost as if you were steaming them?” Maamei asked.

“I had the same thought. Yes, that would be perfect.” Suiren took the treats in the square container, cut them, and gave some to Maamei.

“I think I prefer this one,” the younger woman said; she could hardly keep a smile off her face. It was soft and fluffy, but it had walnuts that gave it a pleasing crunch, while the sweetness of jujubes and raisins filtered through. Maamei could smell butter in it, and there was another fragrance too.

“Now try this one; it’s been sitting for three days,” Suiren said, passing Maamei a piece of something else. She put it in her mouth and discovered that the flavor of the fruit had permeated the entire dough. There was a sweet sauce drizzled over the treat, perhaps to keep it from drying out, and it was thick and delicious.

“Do you think I might take some of this home to my children?” Maamei asked. Horrified, her hand flew to her mouth, but the words were out before she could stop them.

“For your children? You can’t have those, I’m afraid. But take as much as you like of these.” Suiren opened a drawer to reveal a whole array of different treats, each made a slightly different way. How many snacks had she made? “What you’re trying now is something I’m going to serve to the little master tomorrow. But do come back another time and get more.”

“Y-Yes, of course...” With a touch of disappointment, Maamei put the rest of her treat into her mouth. It looked like she’d been summoned here today purely for this taste test.

“I was at a loss as to which was best, but now I’m sure. Thank you,” Suiren said.

“My pleasure. But this is all the work you needed done today?”

“It is. You should take a rest every once in a while. I know your children don’t take much minding, but if they don’t see you now and again they’ll forget who you are!”

That stung. Maamei liked her work, but of course she adored her children.

“Is the Moon Prince here, may I ask?” she said. If he was present, she felt she should pay her respects before leaving, but Suiren shook her head.

“He’s spent the entire day with the tutor, studying. Please don’t disturb him. Don’t worry—I know he has a busy day tomorrow. I’ll make sure he goes to bed early.”

“Oh. I was sure he must have gone to see the Go tournament.” Maamei knew the Moon Prince was devoted to learning, though, so the revelation didn’t strike her as particularly strange.

“Ah, yes, of course. He hasn’t been yet. But I’ve something more important to ask you about. Maamei, would you consider becoming the little master’s lady-in-waiting? I know what a diligent worker you must be, since he comes home early each day.”

“Lady-in-waiting? I’m sorry, but I’m not so sure... I do have children to care for.”

Becoming an attendant to the Moon Prince would mean spending all her time in Suiren’s company—and her own mother, who had been one of the Moon Prince’s nursemaid’s along with Suiren, had told her enough stories about the woman to make her think twice. As things stood, Suiren treated Maamei with professional politeness, but if Maamei started working for her directly, she could turn truly fearsome.

“No? That’s a shame. I’ll just have to find someone else, then,” Suiren said, although she didn’t sound that disappointed about it. In fact, she already seemed to know who that someone else should be.

Suiren wrapped up the treats for Maamei, and the younger woman showed herself out of the pavilion. An appetizing scent wafted from the package, but it seemed somehow lacking compared to what she’d tasted a few minutes before. She puzzled over it as she looked up at the sky. “Looks like another clear day tomorrow,” she said, wondering if the Go tournament had been a success. Then she looked back at the treats, and when she pictured the joy on her children’s faces, she couldn’t help but smile.