Genpei

by Kara Dalkey

  Kurikara

  On the Seventeenth Day of the Fourth Month in the second year of Juei, Taira Koremori set forth from Heian Kyō up to the Northern Land Road to do battle with Yoshinaka. The forces he took with him were not nearly so grand as the procession that followed him to the Fujiwara, but still impressive in numbers. Many young men hungered for the opportunity to prove themselves in battle and make their name. Tens of thousands of warriors had flocked to the butterfly banner of the Taira, eager to do battle again after a year of dull peace. All except Uncle Munemori, who had remained behind in the capital, again, to “oversee matters.”

  An army of such size needed provision, of course, but with the two-year famine there had been no provisions available in the capital. So the Taira forces received an Imperial edict to seize whatever they needed from the countryside in order to feed the troops. The already hard-pressed commoners and landowners of the provinces north of Heian Kyō saw what little they had left looted by the oncoming Taira. Koremori watched from his horse as such depredations took place, watching the peasants flee for the surrounding mountains with only what they could carry on their backs. These people will not remember the Taira kindly, he realized. Let us hope we are victorious, so that such people will not flock to the ranks of the Minomoto.

  By the end of the Fourth Month, Koremori’s men had made it into Echizen Province, and found themselves at the shore of a large lake. Across the lake, surrounded by high mountains and tall cliffs, was Hiuchi Stronghold, manned with six thousand Minomoto warriors.

  “We brought no boats,” Koremori said to his great-uncle Tadanori. “Nor did we bring boat-builders. How will we cross?”

  “Surely our opponents must have boats for their own use,” said old Tadanori. “Let us wait for them to come to us. Our archers will cut the Minomoto down as they cross the water.”

  This sounded wise to Koremori, and so he ordered his forces to encamp and wait. For days, they waited, but no boats came out of Hiuchi Stronghold. As last, Taira sentries spotted an archer on the opposite shore. The archer fired an arrow into the Taira camp, but it was not a humming arrow to announce the beginning of hostilities. Wrapped around the shaft was a message, which was delivered to Koremori. It read:

  The lake is not natural. It is formed by a dam of logs to the south. Destroy the dam by night and by daylight you will only have to cross a mountain stream. Your horses will find good footing and you may cross swiftly.

  The Heizenji Abbot-Master of Deportment Samei

  “What excellent news!” said Koremori. “We have a partisan in their ranks.” Without waiting for nightfall, men were sent to cut away the log dam, and very quickly the lake dwindled until it was shallow enough for the Taira horses to gallop across. The six thousand Minomoto defenders gave good account of themselves, but they were vastly outnumbered by the Taira. The Minomoto were driven from Hiuchi, and tried to reestablish themselves in other strongholds in Kaga Province, to the north. But Koremori’s forces chased them and defeated the Minomoto in those strongholds as well.

  Emboldened by his victories, Koremori encamped his forces in the mountains near Tonamiyama, preparing to do battle on the coastal plain below.

  But his spies reported that Yoritomo’s cousin Yoshinaka was hurrying northward with a mighty force. Indeed, scouts were already reporting riders with white banners on the coastal plain and white banners fluttering on nearby Kurosaka Hill. So Koremori ordered his men to dismount on the slopes of Tonamiyama, let the horses forage and rest, and pondered his next move.

  That night, a spy was shown into Koremori’s tent, bearing disquieting news. “There is a shrine to Hachiman, the Minomoto’s guiding kami, nearby. I spoke with one of the attendants there. He said Yoshinaka had already been by to petition the god. The attendant said that upon receipt of the petition and prayers, three white doves flew up from the shrine’s roof. This was interpreted by all as a sign of the god’s favor to the Minomoto.”

  Koremori sighed. “My grandfather told me tales of white doves appearing to the great general Yoshitomo as well. While Hachiman is doubtless a powerful deity, he did not seem to do Yoshitomo much good during the Heiji. Very likely, these doves will mean little to Yoshinaka as well.”

  The following morning, the Taira awoke from their tents to find the Minomoto forces arrayed on the pine-forested hillside only three hundred yards away.

  “They must have come silently in the night,” Koremori murmured in wonder. “How did they manage that?”

  “They know these lands,” said old Tadanori. “And they may have wrapped their horses’ hooves in cloth to muffle the sound.”

  Koremori could not determine their numbers, so hidden were the Minomoto among the trees. “Why did they not attack?”

  “Perhaps they are few in number and await reinforcements from the plain. Perhaps they came upon us by accident and merely choose to observe.”

  “Fortunate for us. Have the sentries in the valley send word immediately if more Minomoto forces are coming up their way.”

  “Of course, Commander.”

  Koremori watched the Minomoto forces watching them as his own men hastily put on armor. The Taira bowmen readied their bows, horsemen saddled and untethered their mounts, foot soldiers held naginata and shields at the ready. But the Minomoto forces, other than creating a shield wall just in front of their stand of pine, did not move.

  Not until midday, when suddenly a group of fifteen armored, mounted riders came out from behind the Minomoto shield wall. They rode forward a few yards and fired humming arrows into the Taira line.

  “Ah. It begins.” Koremori heard grunts from men struck by the blunt arrows but no one suffered serious injury. He gave orders for fifteen Taira riders to fire humming arrows into the Minomoto lines. Then he mounted his horse and waited the personal challenges that would surely come next. I wonder if Yoshinaka will call challenge to me. What a great enhancement to my reputation it would be if I could take his head. No one would call me “the general who flees from ducks” anymore.

  But personal challenges did not come. Instead, the Minomoto sent out a group of thirty archers to fire humming bulb-arrows.

  “What foolishness is this?” cried Koremori. “They have already announced their intention to give battle. Why do they not begin?”

  “It is a delaying tactic,” said old Tadanori. “They wish to keep us unnerved while awaiting reinforcements.”

  “But the sentries have reported there are no Minomoto approaching from the sea.”

  “Perhaps Yoshinaka wishes us to believe otherwise.”

  Koremori could see that the Minomoto warriors were eager to give battle. He could see arguments between the mounted warriors and their officers and retainers holding on to their lords’ reins, restraining them. Koremori sent out thirty warriors to fire humming bulb-arrows as well.

  Then the Minomoto sent out a group of fifty archers to fire the blunt humming arrows.

  Ah, thought Koremori, I understand. This is but a small army we face. They were sent to provoke us and hope that we will attack and chase them into the mountains. By scattering and spreading our forces thin, they hope to be able to pick us off more easily. That is the only way a small force has a chance against an army the size as ours. But that tactic did not work for Yoritomo at Ishibashiyama. It will not work for Yoshinaka now.

  So Koremori rested and enjoyed the game. As the Minomoto sent out more archers, the Taira did likewise in number to match them. He forbade any of his warriors to issue personal challenges and, apparently, so did the Minomoto. In this manner, the afternoon passed into evening, as if the encounter with the enemy were nothing more than an Imperial archery contest.

  As evening fell, the Minomoto pulled back into the trees and set up cooking fires. Hah, thought Koremori, they have given up. They have seen we will not fall into their trap. The Taira forces did the same, taking down the shield wall and retiring to their tents. Koremori admired the silhouettes of deer moving along the ridges of the surroundin
g hillsides and the sound of the mountain wind in the pine branches.

  But just as Koremori was bringing a rice cake to his lips, the vale resounded with war cries and the clashing of gongs. The surrounding ridges now were lined with men, not deer, each bearing a white banner that glowed in the late twilight. The gathered enemy lit torches until the valley seemed ringed with fire.

  War cries then came from Yoshinaka’s forces, and they rode pell-mell out of the woods toward the Taira camp. There were more of them, many more, than Koremori had estimated.

  “Their reinforcements have arrived!” cried Tadanori, “only they came from the mountains, not from the sea!”

  In panic, the Taira leapt to their horses, but some had removed armor for the night and were ill prepared to fight. Koremori’s aides brought him his horse, and he just had time to mount before he had to draw his sword to fend off a Minomoto warrior. He stabbed the man in the neck and felt the welcome spray of hot blood across his face.

  But he could not see the layout of his forces. His orders could not be heard over the roar of the oncoming Minomoto. They were pouring down the hillsides, momentum on their side, into the Taira camp. Koremori had no choice but to call retreat.

  He scarcely had any need to. As his horse joined the rout, already every Taira warrior who could ride had leapt onto a horse and galloped down the valley, the only escape route the Minomoto had left open to them.

  But it proved to be no escape. The Kurikara Valley was more like a canyon, so narrow and steep in places that horsemen would have to ride carefully, in single file. At full gallop, in full panic, in the dark, this was not possible.

  It was not long before Koremori heard the screams of horses and men ahead of him. In the dark, with the roar and thunder of the Minomoto behind him, with pine branches slapping his face and armor, it was terrifying.

  Someone rode alongside him, grabbed the bridle of his horse, and pulled him to a stop. “My lord, you must not go that way! Already the valley is three deep in corpses! More men will die of broken necks than of arrow wounds tonight. You must come this way, up the hillside.”

  Numb with fear and shock, Koremori let his horse be led into the forest, away from the terrible slaughter below.

  A Midnight Pilgrimage

  When the news of Koremori’s rout, as well as other Taira defeats in the region, reached Heian Kyō, it was like a hammerblow to the morale of the Taira. Kenreimon’in and the little Emperor Antoku were moved from the Imperial palace to Rokuhara, where it was believed there might be a chance of repelling an attack, should one come.

  By the Sixth Month, the few thousand survivors of the Taira forces, Koremori among them, straggled back into Heian Kyō. The cost of the northern battles had been terrible. The dead included Kiyomori’s sixth son Tomonori. Munemori readily pardoned Koremori for his retreat. What else could he do, for he surely would have done no better himself.

  An uneasy month passed, as Munemori petitioned the monks rebuilding the great Enryakuji to pray for the Taira and pledge loyalty to the Taira cause. Perhaps because Munemori had been partly responsible for the destruction of the monastery on Mount Hiei, the monks politely informed him that they had already thrown in their lot with the Minomoto.

  It was near midnight, on the Twenty-fourth Day of the Seventh Month that Kenreimon’in was awakened by the sound of running feet in the wooden corridors and the neighs of nervous horses out in the courtyards. She crawled to the shōji and flung it aside. “What is it? What is happening?” she shouted at the armored men running past, but only one stopped to answer her. “The Minomoto are outside the city!” was all he said before running on.

  Kenreimon’in threw on two layers of kimono and hurried to the apartments of the Emperor and his nurse. She rushed over to embrace Antoku, four and a half years old now, still wearing his long hair in side-loops. The boy sleepily awoke in her arms. “Mama-chan? What is it?”

  “I fear it may be the end.”

  The shōji slid farther open, and Munemori entered the room. “Ah, here you are. I am glad you are awake.”

  “What is the news?” asked Kenreimon’in, the breath stealing from her lungs in fear.

  “It is the worst. Minomoto forces are situated to the north, east, and south of the city and will doubtless enter soon. Some of our generals wish to stay and make a last stand, but I cannot imagine the distressing things that might happen to you, His Majesty, and our mother if we remain. For your sakes, I am going to implement a plan I have had for a while. We are going to abandon Heian Kyō for the western provinces.”

  Kenreimon’in gasped and held Antoku tighter.

  Munemori held up a hand to forestall her protest. “We have many more allies in the west than we do here, and it will be much easier to replenish our depleted forces in Aki and Settsu. This is not defeat but … a tactical retreat. Although, alas, this time we do not retreat from ducks. It may be a while before we can return.”

  “Naturally, we will go if you think it is best,” said Kenreimon’in, shocked and bewildered. “When will we depart?”

  “Before dawn, if possible,” Munemori said. “If we are gone before the Minomoto enter the city, they will have little cause to chase and harass us. I have ordered men to gather the Imperial Regalia and other treasured objects. I will send men to secure the Retired Emperor so that we may bring him, too. The Minomoto may gain the city, but we will still have the legitimacy of rule.”

  A frantic knocking on the shōji frame caught their attention. A sweat-dripping man knelt there wide-eyed and bowed.

  “What is it? Who are you?” Munemori asked him.

  “I am called Sueyasu, lord, and I have the honor to serve as a guard at Hōjūji Mansion. Tonight I was on duty and I overheard a commotion in the Retired Emperor’s ladies’ quarters. I went to investigate and learned a thing most distressing for the Taira.”

  “Well, what is it?” Munemori demanded impatiently.

  “My lord, the Retired Cloistered Emperor has vanished!”

  Retired Cloistered Emperor Go-Shirakawa had not been idle that second year of Juei, though he had made every effort to appear so to the Taira. For many months now, Go-Shirakawa had been in correspondence with Minomoto Yoritomo, encouraging his revolt, and claiming that the Imperial edicts on behalf of the Taira meant nothing. Go-Shirakawa had known that Munemori was so useless a general, so hapless a leader of the Taira, that it was only a matter of time until the Minomoto prevailed.

  That Twenty-fourth Night of the Seventh Month, a messenger had arrived from Yoritomo through one of the many secret passages in Hōjūji. The message he bore read:

  Our forces are arrayed in readiness. Now would be a good time for the crane to fly to a higher perch.

  Munemori had made the mistake of revealing to Go-Shirakawa his plan of fleeing the capital, should invasion ever be imminent. Go-Shirakawa knew that, should he leave with the Taira, it would only mean confinement again for him. So when Yoritomo’s message arrived, Go-Shirakawa already had a plan of his own. A plan he told no one else, not even his closest ladies-in-waiting.

  Just as he had escaped from the Imperial palace so many years ago, Go-Shirakawa dressed in commoner’s clothes. Then he stole out through one of the secret passages, one that opened out to the north. He took with him only one servant, and under cover of darkness they headed into the hills toward the monastery of Kuramadera.

  But one thing troubled Go-Shirakawa on his walk up the dark mountain paths. In a correspondence of a few days before, Yoritomo had mentioned a thing most troubling. His note, among other things, had said:

  Victory is nearly ours. Daily we give thanks to Hachiman for his preservation of our clan’s fortunes. Also I must give thanks to the advisor who nightly whispers in my ear—one whom you know well and once called brother. With such divine and Imperial guidance, how can we not prevail?

  It can only be the Shin-In who advises him, Go-Shirakawa thought, his blood turning cold. And my dear deceased brother wishes only chaos, not victory
. I must do something about this, in time. But in time soon.

  The Flight from the Capital

  The discovery that Go-Shirakawa had disappeared, most likely to defect to the Minomoto faction, made preparations for departure at Rokuhara all the more urgent. No one slept that night, as boxes and chests were packed up with the most valuable possessions, although much would have to be left behind.

  At the Hour of the Hare, just before dawn, the Imperial Travel Palanquin was brought to Rokuhara. Kenreimon’in helped little Emperor Antoku step into the palanquin. She went through the curtains after him and seated herself on the soft cushions. Two boxes were put in the palanquin with them; a small box that contained the Sacred Jade Jewel, and a larger box that contained the Sacred Bronze Mirror. Last of all, the guards placed in the palanquin the Sacred Sword, Kusanagi.

  Instinctually, Kenreimon’in moved away from it. But little Antoku reached forward and grasped the elaborate gold-and-sharkskin scabbard and pulled it onto his lap. Kenreimon’in watched in anxious dread as the little boy turned the sword in its scabbard over and over with curiosity.

  It was not her place, even as his mother, to chastise the Emperor. Nonetheless, Kenreimon’in said, “An-chan, you must be very careful with that. It is very sacred.”

  “I know,” he replied calmly. “Obaa-san has told me stories about it.”

  “Of course,” said Kenreimon’in, wondering with what stories her mother had filled the Emperor’s ears.

  “I had a dream last night,” Antoku went on. “About the sword. I dreamed I swung it, like the guards do, hyeah! hyeah!” He smote the air with his little fists. “And in my dream, I cut down all the Minomoto like they were blades of grass. And I used Kusanagi to call up a great wind to blow them all away. But then they all turned into hornets and came flying back at me. I had to jump in the water to get away from them.”