Koroku was even angrier because he was related to Tenzo. "This is outrageous," he growled, feeling contempt for Tenzo's evil ways. "I've been stupid, ignoring Tenzo's recent behavior. He's taken to dressing up in fine clothes and keeping a number of women. He's brought the family name into disrepute. We'll have to get rid of him. As it is, the Hachisuka clan will be seen to be no different from a band of thieves or a bunch of shameless ronin. A sad state of affairs for a family that is usually regarded as one of the leading provincial clans. Even I, Hachisuka Koroku, hear in public that I am the leader of bandits."
Hannojo and Oinosuke looked down at the ground, embarrassed at suddenly seeing tears of grief in Koroku's eyes.
"Listen, all of you!" Koroku looked directly at his men. "The roof tiles of this mansion bear the crest of the manji cross. Although it is now covered with moss, the crest has been passed down from the time of my distant ancestor, Lord Minamoto Yorimasa, to whom it was awarded by Prince Takakura for raising an army loyal to him. Our family once served the shoguns, but from the time of Hachisuka Taro, we lost our influence. So now we are merely another provincial clan. Surely we're not going to rot away in the country and do nothing about it. No, I, Hachisuka Koroku, have vowed that the time has come! I have been waiting for the day when I might restore our family name and show the world a thing or two."
"This is what you've always said."
"I have told you before that you must think before you act, and protect the weak. My nephew's character has not improved. He has broken into the house of a merchant and done the work of a thief in the night." Chewing his lip, Koroku realized that the matter had to be settled. "Oinosuke, Shinshichi. The two of you will go to Mikuriya, tonight. Bring Tenzo here but don't tell him the reason. He has a number of armed men with him. He's not a man, as they say, to let himself be captured with a single length of rope."
The following dawn came amid the chirping of birds in the forested hills. One house among the fortifications caught the morning sun early.
"Matsu, Matsu!"
Matsunami, Koroku's wife, peeked into the bedroom. Koroku was awake, lying on his side under the mosquito netting.
"Have the men I sent to Mikuriya last night returned yet?"
"No, not yet."
"Hm," Koroku grunted, a concerned look on his face. Although his nephew was a villain who did nothing but evil, he had a sharp mind. If this turned ugly, would he sense it and try to escape? They're rather late, he thought again.
His wife untied the mosquito netting. Their son, Kameichi, who was playing at the edge of the net, was not quite two years old.
"Hey! Come here." Koroku embraced the child and held him at arm's length. As plump as the children in Chinese paintings, the boy felt heavy, even in his father's arms.
"What's the matter? Your eyelids are red and swollen." Koroku licked at Kameichi's eyes. The boy, turning restive, pulled and scratched at his father's face.
"He must have been eaten up by the mosquitoes," his mother replied.
"If it's just mosquitoes, it's nothing to worry about."
"He frets so, even when he's asleep. He keeps slipping out from under the net."
"Don't let him get cold when he's asleep."
"Of course I won't."
"And be careful of smallpox."
"Don't even talk about it."
"He's our first child. You might say he's the prize of our first campaign."
Koroku was young and sturdy. He shook off the pleasure of the moment and strode out of the room, like a man who had some great purpose to achieve. He was not one to sit indoors and peacefully sip his morning tea. When he had changed his clothes and washed his face, he went into the garden, walking with great strides toward the sound of hammering.
Along one side of the narrow path were two small smithies that had been built in a area where huge trees had been fairly recently cut down. This was the middle of a forest where no ax, until now, had touched a tree since the days of Koroku's forefathers.
The gunsmith, Kuniyoshi, whom Koroku had secretly summoned from the city of Sakai, was at work with his apprentices.
"How's it going?" he asked. Kuniyoshi and his men prostrated themselves on the dirt floor. "No luck yet, eh? Are you still unable to copy the firearm you're using as a model?”
"We've tried this and we've tried that. We've gone without sleep and food, but…"
Koroku nodded. Just then a low-ranking retainer came up to him and said, "My lord the two men you sent to Mikuriya have just come back."
"Have they, now?"
"Yes, my lord."
"Did they bring Tenzo back with them?"
"Yes, my lord."
"Good!" Koroku nodded approvingly. "Have him wait."
"Inside?"
"Yes. I'll be there soon."
Koroku was an able strategist—the clan depended on him for it—but there was another side to his character: a tendency to be softhearted. He could be stern, but he could be moved by tears, especially where his own flesh and blood were concerned. He had made up his mind, though: he must do away with his nephew this morning. But he seemed to hesitate, and stayed for quite some time watching Kuniyoshi work.
"It's only natural," he said. "After all, firearms just arrived here seven or eight years go. Since then, samurai clans in all the provinces have vied with each other to produce guns or buy them from the ships of the European barbarians. Here in Owari we have a tactical advantage. There must be many country samurai in the north and east who have never even seen firearms. You haven't made one before, either, so take your time and work carefully by trial and error. If you can make one, you can make a hundred, and we'll have them on hand for later."
"My lord!" The retainer came back and knelt on the dew-covered ground. "They're waiting for you."
Koroku turned to him. "I'll be there soon. They can wait a bit longer."
While Koroku was determined to make the costly sacrifice of punishing his nephew or justice' sake, he was torn by a conflict between his sense of what was right and his own feelings. As he was about to leave, he spoke to Kuniyoshi again, "Within the year you'll be able to make ten or twenty serviceable firearms, won't you?"
"Yes," said the smith, who, conscious of his responsibility, had a serious expression on his sooty face. "If I can make one that I feel is right, I can make forty or even a hundred."
"It's the first one that's difficult, eh?"
"You spend so much money on me."
"Don't worry about it."
"Thank you, my lord."
"I don't suppose the fighting will let up next year, the year after that, or in the years following…. When the grasses on this earth all wither, and the buds begin to sprout again—well, do the best you can to finish it quickly."
"I'll put everything I have into it."
"Remember, it's to be done in secret."
"Yes, my lord."
"The sound of the hammer is a little too loud. Can you work so it won't be heard outside the moat?"
"I'll be careful about that, too."
On his way out of the smithy, Koroku saw a gun propped next to the bellows. "And that?" he asked, pointing to it. "Is it the model, or one that you've made?"
"It's brand-new."
"Well, let me see it."
"I'm afraid it's not quite ready for your inspection yet."
"Never mind. I have a good target for it. Will it fire?"
"The ball flies out, but no matter what I do, I can't make the mechanism engage as it does in the original. I'll try harder to make something that will work."
"Testing is also an important job. Let me have it."
Taking it from Kuniyoshi's hands, Koroku rested the barrel of the gun on his crooked elbow and made as if aiming it at a target. Just then, Inada Oinosuke appeared at the door of the smithy.
"Oh, you haven't finished yet."
Koroku turned toward Oinosuke with the butt of the gun pressed against his ribs.
"Well?"
"I thin
k you should come quickly. We were able to talk Tenzo into coming along with us, but he seems to think it strange and acts nervous. If things go wrong, he may tun into the tiger breaking out of his cage, as the proverb goes."
"Very well, I'm coming."
Handing the gun to Oinosuke, Koroku walked with long strides down the path through the forest.
Watanabe Tenzo sat just outside the study wondering what was going on. What kind of emergency had caused him to be summoned here? Aoyama Shinshichi, Nagai Hannojo, Matsubara Takumi, and Inada Oinosuke—the trusted retainers of the Hachisuka clan—all sat next to him, carefully observing his every movement. Tenzo had begun to feel uneasy as soon as he had arrived. He was thinking of making up some excuse and leaving when he caught sight of Koroku in the garden.
"Ah, Uncle." Tenzo's greeting was accompanied by a forced smile.
Koroku looked impassively at his nephew. Oinosuke rested the butt of the gun on the ground.
"Tenzo, come out into the garden, won't you?" he said. His appearance was no different from normal. Tenzo was a little reassured.
"They told me to come quickly, said there was some urgent business to take care of.
"That's right."
"What sort of business?"
"Well, come over here."
Tenzo put on a pair of straw sandals and went out into the garden. Hannojo and Takumi went with him.
"Stand there," Koroku commanded, sitting down on a large rock and raising the gun Tenzo realized in an instant that his uncle was going to take aim at him, but there was nothing he could do. The other men stood around him, as inert as stones on a go board. The leader of the bandits of Mikuriya had been placed in check. His face went livid. Invisible flames of anger radiated from Koroku. The look on his face told Tenzo tha words would be useless.
"Tenzo!"
"Yes?"
"Surely you haven't forgotten the things I've told you over and over again?"
"I keep them firmly in my mind."
"You were born a human being in a world in chaos. The most shameful things are vanity in clothing, vanity in eating, and oppressing ordinary, peaceable people. The so-called great provincial clans do these things, and so do the ronin. The family of Hachisuka Koroku is not like them, and I believe I've already cautioned you about this."
"Yes, you have."
"Our family alone has pledged to harbor great hopes and fulfill them. We have vowed not to oppress the farmers, not to act like thieves, and if we become the rulers of a province, to see to it that prosperity is shared by all."
"Yes, we have."
"Who has broken this pledge?" Koroku asked. Tenzo was mute. "Tenzo! You have abused the military strength I have entrusted to you. You have put it to evil use, doing the work of a thief in the night. It was you who broke into the pottery shop in Shinkawa and stole the akae pitcher, wasn't it?"
Tenzo looked as if he was about to make a break for it.
Koroku stood up and thundered, "You swine! Sit down! Do you want to run away?"
"I… I won't run." His voice quavered. He slumped down on the grass and sat as though fastened to the ground.
"Tie him up!" Koroku barked to his retainers. Matsubara Takumi and Aoyama Shinshichi were instantiy on Tenzo. They twisted his hands behind his back and tied them with his sword knot. When Tenzo clearly understood that his crime had been exposed and that he was in danger, his pale face became a little more resolute and defiant.
"U-u-uncle, what are you going to do with me? I know you're my uncle, but this is beyond reason."
"Shut up!"
"I swear, I don't remember doing what you're talking about."
"Shut up!"
"Who told you such a thing?"
"Are you going to be quiet or not?"
"Uncle… you are my uncle, aren't you? If there was such a rumor going around, couldn't you have asked me about it?"
"Never mind the cowardly excuses."
"But for the head of a large clan to act on rumors without investigating them…"
Needless to say, this whining was repugnant to Koroku. He raised the gun and rested it in the crook of his elbow.
"You scum. You're just the living target I need to try out this new weapon that Kuniyoshi's just made for me. You two, take him over to the fence and tie him to a tree."
Shinshichi and Takumi gave Tenzo a shove and grabbed him by the scruff of the neck. They marched him all the way to the far end of the garden, which was far enough away that a poor archer would not be able to shoot an arrow the entire distance.
"Uncle! I have something to say. Hear me out, just once!" Tenzo yelled. His voice, and the despair in it, were plain for all to hear. Koroku ignored him. Oinosuke had brought a fuse. Koroku took it and, after loading a ball into the musket, took aim at his frantically screaming nephew.
"I did wrong! I confess! Please hear me out!"
As unimpressed as their lord, the men stood silently, braced themselves, and watched. After several minutes, Tenzo fell silent. His head hung down. Perhaps he was contemplating death. Or maybe he was a broken man.
"It's no good!" Koroku murmured. He took his eyes from the target. "Even when I pull the trigger, the ball does not come out. Oinosuke, run over to the smithy and get Kuniyoshi."
When the smith came, Koroku held out the gun to him, saying, "I tried to fire just now, but it doesn't work. Fix it."
Kuniyoshi examined the musket. "It cannot be repaired easily, my lord," he said.
"How long will it take?"
"Maybe I can do it by this evening."
"Can't you do it sooner than that? The living target I'm going to try it out on is waiting."
Only then did the blacksmith realize that Tenzo was meant to be the target. "Your… your nephew?" he stammered.
Koroku ignored the remark. "You're a gunsmith now. It would be good if you your energy into making a gun. If you could finish it even one day earlier than planned, that would be good. Tenzo's an evil man, but he is a relative, and instead of dying a dog’s death, he'll have made a contribution if he's put to some use in trying out a gun. Now on with your job."
"Yes, my lord."
"What are you waiting for?" Koroku's eyes were like signal fires. Even without looking up, Kuniyoshi felt their heat. He took the gun and scurried off to the smithy.
"Takumi, give some water to our living target," Koroku ordered. "Have at least three men stand guard over him until the gun is repaired." Then he went back to the main house to have breakfast.
Takumi, Oinosuke, and Shinshichi also left the garden. Nagai Hannojo was to return to his own home that day, and he soon announced his departure. At about the same time, Matsubara Takumi left on an errand, so only Inada Oinosuke and Aoyama Shinshich remained in the residence on the hill.
The sun climbed higher. It got hotter. The cicadas droned, and the only living creatures moving in the broiling heat were ants crawling over the baked paving stones in the garden. The furious sound of hammering erupted spasmodically from the smithy. How must it have sounded to Tenzo's ears?
"Isn't the gun ready yet?" Each time the stern voice came from Koroku's room, Aoyama Shinshichi ran to the smithy through the scorching heat. He would come back to the veranda each time, saying, "It'll take a little longer," and then report on how the work was progressing.
Koroku napped fitfully, his arms and legs outstretched. Shinshichi, too, tired from the previous day's excitement, finally dozed off.
They were roused by the voice of one of the guards shouting, "He's escaped!"
"Master Shinshichi! He's escaped! Come quickly!"
Shinshichi ran out into the garden barefoot.
"The master's nephew has killed two guards and run away!" The man's face was exactly the color of clay.
Shinshichi ran along with the guard, shouting back over his shoulder, "Tenzo's killed two guards and escaped!"
"What?" shouted Koroku, suddenly awakened from his nap. The chirping of the cicadas went on uninterrupted. Almost in a single
motion, he jumped to his feet and put on the sword that was always by his side when he slept. Bounding off the veranda, he soon caught up with Shinshichi and the guard.
When they got to the tree, Tenzo was nowhere to be seen. At the base of the tree lay a single piece of unknotted hemp rope. About ten paces away, a corpse lay facedown. They found the other guard propped against the foot of the wall, his head split open like a ripe pomegranate. The two bodies were drenched with blood, looking as though someone had splashed it all over them. The heat of the day had soon dried the blood on the grass, blackening it to the color of lacquer; the smell had attracted swarms of flies.
"Guard!"
"Yes, my lord." The man threw himself at Koroku's feet.
"Tenzo had both hands tied with his sword knot and was bound to the tree with a hemp rope. How did he manage to slip out of the rope? As far as I can see, it hasn't been cut.
"Yes, well… we untied it."
"Who?"
"One of the dead guards."
"Why was he untied? And with whose permission?"
"At first we didn't listen to him, but your nephew said he had to relieve himself. He said he couldn't stand it, and—"
"You fool!" Koroku roared at the guard, barely able to keep himself from stamping on the ground. "How could you fall for an old trick like that? You oaf!"
"Master, please forgive me. Your nephew told us you were a kind man at heart, and asked if we really believed you were going to kill your own nephew. He said he was being punished just to make an impression, and because you were conducting a full investigation, he would be forgiven by nightfall. Then he said that if we didn't listen to him, we rere going to suffer for making him suffer so. Finally, one of them untied him and went with him and the other guard, so that he might relieve himself in the shade of those trees over there."
"Well?"
"Then I heard a scream. He killed both of them, and I ran to the house to tell you what happened."
"Which way did he go?"
TAIKO: AN EPIC NOVEL OF WAR AND GLORY IN FEUDAL JAPAN Page 7