Genpei

by Kara Dalkey

  Koremori sought advice from the warriors among his army who had lived in the Kantō, asking them what sort of fighters the famed Eastern horsemen were in truth.

  Those who knew the Kantō shook their heads, and said, “There are no finer warriors than those who ride the plains of the five eastern provinces. Here, you think these arrows are long? An average fighter of the Kantō can draw a shaft at least fifteen fists long. The bows they use require six strong men to string them. Their best archers can fire an arrow through four suits of armor. Think what that would do to a man, eh?

  “And an Eastern warrior has none of the fine sentiments of your Fukuhara nobleman. A Kantō fighter will ride over the bodies of his father and brothers to continue the battle. He will not think of food or water, heat or cold, life or death. They fight more fiercely than any bear or enraged bull. If those who say Yoritomo has two hundred thousand such men speak the truth, then I regret to say, my lord, that we will not be returning from this battle alive.”

  Naturally, this was most unsettling to the young Koremori, and he asked his tactician, Tadakiyo, for advice.

  “My lord,” Tadakiyo said, “we have come a long way in a short time. We should not advance farther than the Fuji River. Particularly if Yoritomo’s force is as great as they say, we should not face it in our present condition. I expect we will be reinforced with men from Izu and Suruga, and we should wait for them to arrive.”

  As Koremori had little experience in the art of war, he readily accepted Tadakiyo’s advice. On the Sixteenth Day of the Tenth Month, he encamped his forces to the west of Fuji River, with Mount Fuji towering to the north and east.

  But word of the possible size of the opposing army had spread, as well as the rumors of the Kantō warriors’ prowess in battle. And as rumor will, tales grew and became exaggerated. Men saw ghosts and baleful demons in the mists that rose off the river marshes just north of the encampment.

  “This is no good,” the Kantō-bred warriors said. “If we wait here, the Minomoto will have time to sneak around Mount Fuji and attack us from behind, unexpected. That is what we would do.”

  “But that is ignoble,” Koremori protested.

  The Eastern warriors faced him with hard, narrowed eyes. “Kantō horsemen,” they said, “do not fight for sport. They fight to win.”

  No longer was laughter heard in the camp, and the drinking and enjoyment of the entertainment ladies took on a more furtive, desperate nature. The Taira warriors spoke little and watched over their shoulders often. And they waited.

  Administrative Matters

  In the days soon after his return to Izu, Yoritomo had found himself busily administering the lands his forces had already taken. He had heard a saying once that to be thought a ruler one must behave as one, and this he began to do. Throughout the Ninth Month, Yoritomo dispatched many of his new volunteers to put down the ambitious rival Minomoto landowners. In mid-month, he sent a force to subdue the acting governor of Suruga Province, and the Minomoto were victorious.

  Yoritomo gave the landholdings of the vanquished to those who were loyal to his side, or to favored shrines and temples. He searched for new headquarters and at last settled on the town of Kamakura, on the seacoast of a peninsula of Sagami Province, well located between the Eastern Provinces and western, Taira-controlled Nihon. There, Yoritomo commandeered a local official’s dwelling for his own residence and brought his wife and children to join him.

  But by early in the Tenth Month, Yoritomo received word of the enormous Taira force that had been dispatched from Fukuhara. Yoritomo summoned together as many of the newly mustered men as he could, for he did not wish a repeat of his earlier disaster. This new army, whom some numbered as many as two hundred thousand, rode west with Yoritomo at its head.

  Even as he traveled up the valley of the Haya River, over Ashigara Pass and down the valley of the Kisegawa, administrative matters followed Yoritomo. There was the petition from the monks of Izu Temple requesting that the warriors stop plundering the temple’s lands. Yoritomo, knowing it was wise to have monks on one’s side, immediately issued an edict forbidding his men to cross those lands.

  There was the matter of a monk spy who tried to slip away by boat. There was the matter of the prisoners taken in the battle with the Suruga governor, and rewards to be given to the fighters who had captured them. There was the matter of coming to agreement with the allied lords as to what should be the day of battle with the Taira. The Twenty-fourth Day of the Tenth Month was selected.

  Yoritomo and his vast army reached Kajima, on the eastern bank of the Fuji River, on the Twentieth Day. Across the river, he could see the fires of Koremori’s forces, but Yoritomo had gotten conflicting assessments of how many men the Taira had, or how well prepared they were.

  “My lord, there are but a couple of thousand of them, and they spend their days in games of chance, indulging in women and drink. You know how those effete capital lordlings are. They will be no match for us.”

  Or, “My lord, we must exercise caution. There are over a hundred thousand Taira, and daily more march into their camp to serve them. Do not be deceived if they seem idle, for the Taira are ruthless when it comes to holding power. Remember Ishibashiyama and take care.”

  Therefore, on the night of the twenty-third, Yoritomo chose one man, Takeda Nobuyoshi, to sneak across the river into the marsh north of the Taira camp, then to report back on the size and condition of Koremori’s army. The man willingly bowed and left on his mission, and Yoritomo wondered for a moment if Nobuyoshi had any chance of returning alive. If he did not, then Yoritomo would send another man, and another until one survived to bring back the needed information.

  Yoritomo retired to his tent, put on a formal white robe, and offered prayers to Hachiman.

  Marsh Wind

  Left Minor Captain and Commander in Chief Taira Koremori paced in front of his tent. Beside him, on a folding chair of sticks and cloth, sat his advisor Tadakiyo, who was admiring the waning autumn moon. Word had come to the Taira camp that the Minomoto forces had arrived at Fuji River and that they were, indeed, as large as had been feared. Reinforcements from the Oba and Hateyama families would not be coming, as they were on the other side of the Minomoto line. And Koremori had heard of the defeat of the Suruga governor, meaning no more men could be expected from that quarter.

  The cold, damp marsh air, smelling faintly of rotting things, hung heavily over the camp. “When will they attack, do you think?” Koremori asked Tadakiyo.

  “It could be any time, my lord, unless they are waiting for more men, as we are.”

  “With two hundred thousand, how many more do they need? Particularly if these Eastern warriors are as powerful as they say.”

  Tadakiyo sighed. “As many as to be certain of victory, my lord. Yoritomo must win this time if he is to gain the respect of the Eastern overlords.”

  “I do not like your pessimism, Tadakiyo.”

  “Your grandfather himself asked me to advise you, my lord. I do not think he would wish me to lie to you.”

  “I cannot think,” said Koremori, “that the gods would have let me come so far, so grandly, on my first command, only to have me lose to a provincial upstart rebel.”

  “It is better for a warrior to rely upon his own strength and courage than to rely upon the whims of the gods, my lord. The kami have reasons we cannot know. The bosatsu will save those they can, but each man earns his own karma. Do your best, forget the rest.”

  Koremori looked down at his hands in the moonlight. They were trembling. He felt profoundly untested and unready. He swallowed hard and stared eastward across the Fuji River, and wondered how many more days he had left to live.

  A Flight of Waterfowl

  Takeda Nobuyoshi crawled up the western bank of the Fuji River, muddy, sopping wet, and chilled to the bone. He tried to ignore his discomforts and concentrate upon his mission. After all, if one was supposed to be willing to give his life for his lord, what was a little cold and wet?
>
  Nobuyoshi slithered through the moss and the reeds, trying to keep sufficient distance between himself and the Taira sentries. But even in the bright moonlight, the tall marsh grasses made it difficult for him to see where he was. It was hard to distinguish the noises of the camp from the croak of frogs and the ank-ank of waterbirds in the marsh. The muck seemed to tug at his shoes and his sleeves, slowing his movement.

  Nobuyoshi saw glittering light ahead of him—moonlight reflecting off water. Perhaps, he thought, he could swim through the flooded grasses and make better progress. More eagerly than he should have, Nobuyoshi plunged into the water, making a big splash.

  A deafening cacophony erupted around him. Thousands of beating wings, sounding like the pounding of drums or the thunder of hooves. An enormous flock of geese and ducks rose into the sky, screaming and squawking and chucking as if shouting war cries. Great clouds of the birds flew up out of the marsh to the heavens, blocking out the moon and all the stars.

  Nobuyoshi rolled onto his back in the water, cursing himself over and over. Fool, fool, what a fool I am! Now it is done. I have revealed myself, and soon the Taira will come looking for me. With luck, I might kill one before I am slain, but I will have failed on my lord’s mission. What have I ever done in this life or past ones to earn such a fortune? Nobuyoshi pulled out his dagger, huddled in the long grasses, and waited for the Taira sentries to find him.

  A Flight of Taira

  Koremori fairly jumped into the air when he heard the noise. “What is that?”

  Tadakiyo leapt from his chair. “It sounds like thousands of marching feet! It is coming from the marsh, behind us!”

  Koremori ran to the other side of the tent. Birds were rising in great numbers from the marsh, squawking in fright.

  “The Minomoto! They are attacking!”

  “Just as our warriors feared they might,” said Tadakiyo. “They have come around behind us while we waited. We are only fortunate that the birds have given us warning.”

  “We must rally the men quickly!”

  “No, my lord, it would be useless to fight. If there are two hundred thousand ahead of us and now many thousands behind us, we cannot hope to win. We must retreat and return to the capital at once!”

  Koremori was all too willing to take this advice. He called for his horse, shouting, “Retreat! To the Owari River, to the capital!”

  Word and panic spread like brush fire through the Taira camp. Voices echoed the cry “Retreat! Retreat!” Men ran to their horses, without saddle or bridle, leaving their bows, armor, and other belongings behind them. Men leapt onto the backs of tethered horses, only to ride round and round in circles until the ropes were cut. Courtesans and camp followers screamed and ran from the tents, only to be kicked and trampled under the hooves of the fleeing horsemen. Their retainers and groomsmen had no choice but to run on foot after them, some leaving their shoes behind. Each man had no thought but to save himself, and the Eastern Sea Road was soon clogged with fleeing Taira.

  An Empty Field

  The following morning at the Hour of the Hare, just after dawn, Yoritomo sat on his horse on the eastern bank of the Fuji River. The spy had not returned, so Yoritomo assumed Nobuyoshi had been caught and killed. Such is the way of war.

  Behind him, two hundred thousand horsemen waited restively for the order to attack. Yoritomo scented the wind and decided there was no point in waiting further. He raised his sword into the air. “Let it begin!” he cried.

  With a mighty shout, the army surged forward across the broad but shallow river, thundered up the eastern bank, and charged into the open fields to meet the Taira camp. But the horses had galloped no farther than a few yards when the warriors pulled their steeds to an abrupt halt and called for their commander.

  Yoritomo rode across the river to join them and learn what had halted the attack. The sight that filled his eyes astonished him. The camp lay in complete disarray. Arrows littered the ground, boxes of armor and clothing lay burst open. Tents had been demolished and strewn across the grass. The only inhabitants of the camp were clusters of disheveled women, weeping, bruised, and bleeding. They stared up at him with wide, fearful eyes. Then Nobuyoshi emerged from a group of such ladies and sheepishly came forward, bowing to Yoritomo.

  “My lord, it is my fault that you have no foe to fight today. I disturbed the waterbirds, and the Taira thought I was your army. I would have come back to tell you, but I was so astonished I did not think I would be believed. And these ladies needed someone to help bandage their wounds. I know something of the healing arts.”

  A miracle, Yoritomo thought in wonder. Hachiman has sent me another miracle.

  Laughter erupted among the Minomoto warriors. “The Taira run from ducks and cranes! What cowards they are!”

  Yoritomo dismounted, removing his helmet, and performed a ritual washing of his hands and mouth. “We owe this victory to the Great Bosatsu Hachiman. There can be no other explanation for this gift from the gods.”

  “My lord,” said one of his men, “Let us chase the Taira back to Heian Kyō and finish them!” A few warriors, not waiting for commands, took off down the Eastern Sea Road to give chase.

  Yoritomo was about to give assent that the whole force should go when Taira Hirotsune rode up.

  “My lord, it is tempting, I know, to consider riding after your foe. But they have had some hours’ start, and to follow them to Heian Kyō or Fukuhara would take us well out of Eastern territory. This would mean all of the warriors who support you would be gone from the Kantō and those who envy your position, such as Fujiwara Hideyoshi, might decide to take advantage of your absence. Would it not be better to make sure your control of the Kantō is complete before marching on the capital? The gods have, indeed, blessed us this day. Let us not waste their gift chasing foxes through the marsh grass. Let shame be the Taira punishment for now.”

  Yoritomo regarded Hirotsune a moment. And thereby let the warriors of your clan be spared? he wondered. But Yoritomo remembered the fate of his father Yoshitomo during the Heiji, how he was drawn out of the Imperial palace to chase fleeing Taira, only to be caught in a trap.

  Yoritomo nodded. “Very well. We will return to the Kise River and decide there what is to be done next. Gather what weapons and armor were left here. Nobuyoshi?”

  The spy replied, “Hai, my lord?”

  “Though you may not have intended it, you have done us a great service. Therefore, I will delegate more men to you and you will have the post of Shuko here in Suruga Province. I will rely upon you to ensure that the Taira do not return this far again.”

  Nobuyoshi smiled and bowed. “My lord, I will gladly do so. Even if I must surround all of Suruga Province with geese and ducks.”

  Whispered Names

  A late autumn wind whipped sleet against the shōji of the Fukuhara palace. “I am most sorry, Majesty,” said the wizened physician to Kenreimon’in, who knelt in the hallway outside of the sickroom, “but it would do you no good to see him. He drifts in and out of dreams and whispers … names.”

  “I know the names he whispers,” the Empress said as calmly as she could, hiding the sorrow inside. Monks in a nearby room were chanting in a mournful drone, a reminder that death was not far.

  In the year before he was forced to retire, the young Emperor Takakura had had mistresses. What Emperor did not? Two he had been quite fond of, Aoi and Kogo. Aoi had been a girl of lower class, only a servant. But she died after the Emperor had sent her away for fear of gossip. Kenreimon’in herself had presented the Emperor with her beautiful young serving maid Kogo to ease his grief. Her gift apparently had been successful, for Takakura had soon become enthralled with Kogō as well.

  But then Kiyomori had found out. Kenreimon’in still burned with shame, remembering how her father had forced Kogō out of the palace to become a nun, fearing that Kogō would interfere with his daughter’s happy marriage. While she was fond of her husband, Kenreimon’in had no illusions that hers had been anything
but a political marriage.

  “Kiyomori has much to answer for,” whispered Kenreimon’in.

  “I beg your pardon, Majesty?” said the physician.

  “Nothing, good doctor. Has the nature of my husband’s illness ever been determined?”

  The physician tilted his head. “Who can say about such things, Majesty? An evil spirit perhaps, some improperly prepared food, or …”

  “Or?”

  He lowered his voice. “There are some vicious gossips who claim it is poison.”

  “Poison?” Kenreimon’in exclaimed softly. “Who would possibly dare to do such a thing?”

  “Who indeed?” replied the physician. He suddenly seemed to think better of speaking more and abruptly bowed and walked away.

  Kenreimon’in covered her face with her sleeves. They think my father is responsible. It might even be true. What karma caused me to be born into such a wicked world, to such a wicked father? Tears fell at last, and Kenreimon’in could not stop them.

  Brothers Meet

  Minomoto Yoshitsune and his towering retainer Benkei paced on the flagstones in front of a residence in the Suruga provincial capital of Numazu.

  “You are certain he will see us?” Benkei rumbled, scratching his curly black beard.

  “Of course he will,” said Yoshitsune, with more certainty than he felt. “He is my brother.”

  “Those aides didn’t seem too convinced when you told them who you were.”

  “I’m sure the Lord of Kamakura has been getting a lot of visitors or one sort or another lately, people claiming all sorts of things. They can’t be too careful.”