"The last time I saw him, he had his hands on top of the wall, so I suppose he went over it. I think I heard something hitting the water in the moat."
"Shinshichi, run him down. Get men onto the road to the village right away." After giving these orders, he himself dashed off in the direction of the front gate with frightening energy.
Kuniyoshi, covered in sweat, was unaware of what had happened and heedless of the passage of time. Only the gun existed for him, nothing else. Sparks from the forge flew about him. At long last he had fashioned the part he needed from iron filings. Relieved at having done his job, he cradled the musket in his arms. Still, he was not fully confident that the ball would come flying out of the barrel. He pointed the empty gun at the wall and tested it. As he pulled the trigger, it gave a satisfying click.
Ah, it seems to be all right, he thought. But it would be a great embarrassment 1 hand it over to Koroku and have him find yet another defect. He rammed gunpowder and a ball into the barrel, filled the primer pan, pointed the muzzle at the ground, an fired. With a loud report, the ball dug a small crater into the ground.
I've done it!
Thinking of Koroku, he reloaded the gun and hurried from the hut and along the path through the dense trees that led to the garden.
"Hey, there!" cried a man barely visible in the shadow of a tree.
Kuniyoshi stopped. "Who is it?" he asked.
"It's me."
"Who?"
"Watanabe Tenzo."
"Eh? The master's nephew!"
"Don't look so surprised. Though I can understand why. This morning I was tied up to a tree, ready to be used to try out a gun. And now here I am."
"What happened?"
"That doesn't concern you. It's a matter between uncle and nephew. He gave me good dressing down."
"He did, did he?"
"Listen, just now at Shirahata pond in the village, the farmers and some samurai from the neighborhood have gotten into a fight. My uncle, Oinosuke, Shinshichi, and their men went over there. I'm supposed to follow them right away. Were you able to finish the gun?"
“I was.”
"Let me have it."
"Are those Lord Koroku's orders?"
"Yes. Give it to me. If the enemy escapes, we won't be able to try it out."
Tenzo snatched the gun from Kuniyoshi's hand and disappeared into the forest.
"This is odd," thought the blacksmith. He started after Tenzo, who was making his way through the trees along the outer wall. He saw him climb the wall and jump, landing just short of the other side of the moat. Up to his chest in the fetid water, he lost no time in splashing the rest of the way across like a wild animal.
"Ah! He's escaping! Help! Over here!" Kuniyoshi yelled as loud as he could from the top of the wall.
Tenzo crawled out of the water looking like a muddy rat and turned toward Kuniyoshi. He aimed the gun and fired.
The gun made a ghastly noise. Kuniyoshi's body tumbled from the earthen wall. Tenzo ran across the fields, bounding like a leopard in flight.
* * *
"Assemble!"
The notice was issued under the signature of the head of the clan, Hachisuka Koroku. By evening, the mansion was filled with samurai, both inside and outside the gate.
"A battle?"
"What do you suppose has happened?" they asked, excited by the prospect of fighting. Although they usually plowed their fields, sold silk cocoons, raised horses, and went to market just like ordinary farmers and merchants, fundamentally they were quite different from them. They gloried in their martial bloodlines and were discontented with their lot. If the opportunity presented itself, they would not hesitate to take up arms to challenge fate and create a storm. Men like these had been stalwarts of the clan for generations.
Oinosuke and Shinshichi stood outside the walls, giving directions.
"Go around to the garden."
"Don't make so much noise."
"Go through the main gate." The men were all armed with long battle swords; as members of a provincial clan, however, they were not in full armor, but wore only gaundets and shin guards.
"We're going into battle," one man guessed.
The borders of the Hachisuka domain were not clearly defined. These men belonged to no castle, nor had they sworn allegiance to any lord. They had neither clear allies nor enemies. But now and again they would go to war when the clan's lands were invaded, or when it entered into alliances with the local lord; or when it hired its men out as mercenaries and agitators to the lords of distant provinces. Some clan leaders called their troops out for money, but Koroku had never been tempted by personal gain. The neighboring Oda recognized this, as did the Tokugawa of Mikawa and the Imagawa of Suruga. The Hachisuka was only one among several powerful provincial families, but it had prestige enough that no other clan threatened its lands.
Notice having been given, the entire clan appeared at once. Gathered together in the spacious garden, they looked up at their leader. He stood on a man-made hill, as silent as a stone statue, under the moon hanging in the twilight sky. His armor was of black leather, and he wore a long sword at his side. Although his equipment seemed light, there was no mistaking the dignity of the head of a warrior clan.
To the hushed assembly of almost two hundred men, Koroku announced that as of that day Watanabe Tenzo was no longer a member of their clan. After clearly setting forth the circumstances, he apologized for his own unworthiness. "Our current predicament comes from my own negligence. For running away, Tenzo must be punished with death. We will leave no stone unturned, no blade of grass unparted. If we allow him to live, the Hachisuka will bear the mark of thieves for a hundred years. For the sake of our honor, for our ancestors and for our descendants, we must hunt Tenzo down. Do not think of him as my nephew. He is a traitor!"
As he finished his speech, a scout returned at a dead run. "Tenzo and his men are in Mikuriya," he reported. "They expect an attack and are fortifying the village."
When they learned that their enemy was Watanabe Tenzo, the men seemed a little dispirited, but on hearing the circumstances, they rallied to restore the honor of the clan. With resolute step they descended on the armory, where there was an astonishing array of weapons. In the past, weapons and armor had often been abandoned in the field after every battle. Now, with no end in sight to the civil war, and the country plunged into darkness and instability, weapons had become highly prized possessions. They could found in the house of any farmer, and, second only to foodstuffs, a spear or a sword could be sold for ready cash.
A considerable number of the weapons in the armory had been there almost since the clan was founded, and the store had increased rapidly in Koroku's time, but there were no firearms in it. The fact that Tenzo had run off with their only gun had made Koroku so furious that only action could quell his anger. He considered his nephew animal—cutting him to pieces was too good for him. He vowed he would not take off armor or sleep until he had Tenzo's head.
Koroku set out for Mikuriya at the head of his troops.
As they got close to the village the column halted. A scout was sent forward and came back to report that the redness in the night sky was caused by fires set by Tenzo and his men, who were plundering the village. When they moved on, they were met on the road by fleeing villagers carrying their children, the sick, and household goods, and leading their livestock. On meeting the men of Hachisuka, they became even more frightened
Aoyama Shinshichi reassured them. "We have not come to plunder," he said. I have come to punish of Watanabe Tenzo and his ruffians."
The villagers quieted down and gave vent to their resentment over Tenzo's atrocities His crimes did not stop at stealing a pitcher from Sutejiro. Besides collecting the annual land tax for the lord of the province, he had made his own rules and collected a second tax, calling it "protection money" for the rice paddies and fields. He had taken over the dams in the lakes and rivers, and had charged what he called "water money." If anyone dared voice discontent, Te
nzo sent men to ravage his fields and paddies. Also, by threaening to massacre entire households, he put a damper on any ideas about secretly informing the lord of the province. In any event, the lord was too preoccupied with military matters to be concerned about such details as law and order.
Tenzo and his confederates did what they liked: they gambled, they slaughtered and ate cows and chickens on the shrine grounds, they kept women, and they turned the shrine into an armory.
"What has Tenzo's gang been up to tonight?" Shinshichi asked.
The villagers all spoke at once. It turned out that the rogues had started by taking spears and halberds from the shrine. They were drinking sake and screaming about fighting to the death, when suddenly they began looting the houses and setting them on fire. Finally they regrouped and ran away with their weapons, food, and anything of value. It seemed that by making a lot of noise about fighting to the death, they hoped to put off any would-be pursuers.
Have I been outmaneuvered? Koroku wondered. He stamped on the ground and ordered the villagers to return to their homes. His men followed, and together they tried get the fires under control. Koroku restored the desecrated shrine and, at dawn, bowed low in prayer.
"Although Tenzo represents only a branch of our family, his evil deeds have become the crimes of the entire Hachisuka clan. I ask forgiveness, and I swear that he will punished by death, that these villagers will be put at ease, and that I will make rich offerings to the gods of this shrine."
While he prayed, his troops stood quietly on either side.
"Can this be the leader of a gang of bandits?" the villagers asked one another. They were confused and suspicious, as well they might be, for in the name of the Hachisuka, Watanabe Tenzo had committed many crimes. Since he was Koroku's nephew, they gave a collective shudder, assuming that because this man was Tenzo's chief, he was like him. Koroku, for his part, knew that if he did not have the gods and the people on his side, he was bound to fail.
At last the men sent after Tenzo came back. "Tenzo has a force of about seventy men," they reported. "Their tracks show that they went into the mountains at Higashi Kasugai and are fleeing toward the Mino road."
Koroku issued commands: "Half of you will return to guard Hachisuka. Half of the remainder will stay here to help the villagers and maintain public order. The rest will go with me."
Having divided his forces, he had no more than forty or fifty men to go after Tenzo. After going through Komaki and Kuboshiki, they caught up with a part of the band. Tenzo had put lookouts along various roads, and when they saw they were being followed, his men began taking a roundabout route. There were reports that they were going down from the Seto peak to the village of Asuke.
It was around noon of the fourth day after the burning of Mikuriya. It was hot. The roads were steep, and Tenzo's men had to keep their armor on. The band was obviously tired of running. Along the roads they had abandoned packs and horses, gradually lightening their load, and by the time they got to the ravine of the Dozuki River, they were famished, exhausted, and drenched with sweat. As they drank, Koroku's small force slid down both sides of the ravine in a pincer attack. Stones and boulders rained down on the fugitives, and the waters of the river soon ran red with blood. Some were run through; some were beaten to death; some were thrown into the river. These were men who ordinarily were on good terms, and the blood ties—uncle and nephew, cousin and cousin— cut across factional lines. It was an attack of the clan against itself, but it was unavoidable. They really were one body of men, and for that very reason the roots of evil had to be cut out.
Koroku, with his peerless courage, was covered with the fresh blood of his kinsmen. He called out to Tenzo to show himself, but with no success. Ten of his men had fallen, but for the other side it was almost a massacre. But Tenzo was not found among the dead. It seemed he had deserted his men and, traveling along mountain paths, had managed his escape.
The swine! thought Koroku, grinding his teeth. He's heading for Kai.
Koroku himself was standing on one of the peaks when out of nowhere came the report of a single shot, which echoed through the mountains. The sound of the gun seemed to mock him. Tears coursed down his cheeks. At that moment he reflected that he and his nephew—who was nothing more than evil incarnate—were, after all, of the same blood. His tears were tears of regret for his own unworthiness. Bitterly discouraged, he tried to think the problem through and realized the day was far off when he could rise from the status of the head of a clan and become the ruler of a province. He had to admit he was incapable of that. If I don't even know how to control one of my own relatives… Strength alone isn't enough, if one doesn't have a governing policy, or household discipline. Quite unexpectedly, a bitter smile shone through his tears. That bastard has taught me something after all, he realized. And he gave the order to withdraw.
The force, now numbering little more than thirty men, reformed and descended from the Dozuki ravine to Koromo. They bivouacked just outside the town and, the following day, sent a messenger to the castle town of Okazaki. They received permissioin to pass through, but because it was already late when they started off, it was close to midnight before they reached Okazaki. Along the highways leading toward home were branch and main castles and stockades closely crowded together. There were also strategic checkpoints where a group of armed men could not pass. The journey by road would take many days, so they decided to take a boat down the Yahagi River, and then from Ohama to Handa. From Tokoname, once again they would travel by boat across the open water and then up the Kanie River to Hachisuka.
When they got to the Yahagi River it was midnight, and there was not a boat to be seen. The current was swift and the river wide. Frustrated, Koroku and his men came to a halt under some trees. Various men gave their opinions:
"If there's no boat to go downriver, we could take a ferry across and go along other bank."
"It's too late. Let's wait until morning."
What bothered Koroku most was that in order to camp here, they would have to go to Okazaki Castle to ask permission again.
"Look for a ferryboat," Koroku ordered. "If we can find just one and cross over the other side, by dawn we'll have covered the distance a boat might have taken downriver."
"But, sir, we haven't seen a ferryboat anywhere."
"Idiot! There's bound to be at least one boat around here. How else are people go to cross a river this size during the day? What's more, there should be scouting boats hidden among the reeds or in the high grass along the bank. Or boats to use if fighting disrupts the ferry service. Open your eyes and look!"
The men split into two groups, one going upstream, the other downstream.
"Ah. Here's one!" one man shouted from upstream, stopping in his tracks.
At a spot on the bank where the earth had been washed away during a flood, large purple willows with exposed roots stooped and bowed their branches over the water. The water was calm and dark, like a deep pool. A boat was tied up in the shadows under the trees.
"And it's usable."
The man jumped down and, planning to take the boat downstream, reached down to loosen the mooring rope wound around the roots of a willow. His hand stopped and he gazed fixedly into the boat, a small craft with a shallow draft, used for carrying baggage. It was close to falling apart, dank with slime, and listing dangerously. Nevertheless, it could be used for the crossing. What held the soldier's attention was a man fast asleep under a rotting rush mat, snoring soundly. He wore strange clothes. Both his sleeves and hem were short, and under his dirty white shirting he wore leggings and coverings for the backs of his hands. He had straw sandals on his bare feet. His age was somewhere between childhood and adulthood. He lay on his back under the open sky, the night dew on his eyebrows and eyelashes. He seemed to be at absolute peace with the world.
"Hey, you!" The soldier tried to awaken him, but when the man did not respond at all, he called to him again and tapped him lightly on the chest with the butt o
f his spear.
"Hey, you, wake up!"
Hiyoshi opened his eyes, grabbed the shaft of the spear with a shout, and stared back at the soldier.
The swirling water around the boat might almost have been a reflection of the state of Hiyoshi's life. On that frosty night in the first month of the previous year when he had taken leave of his mother and sister, he had told them he would be back when he became a great man. He had no desire to go from one job to another, apprenticing himself to merchants and artisans as he had done so far. What he wanted most was to serve a samurai. But his appearance was against him, and he had no evidence of his birth or lineage.
Kiyosu, Nagoya, Sumpu, Odawara—he had walked through all of them. He would sometimes screw up his courage and stand before the gate of a samurai residence, but all of his pleas were met with laughter and ridicule. Once he had even been chased away with a broom. His money was quickly running out, and he realized that the world was just as his aunt in Yabuyama had told him. Still, he refused to let go of his dream, believing his aspirations were reasonable. He was not ashamed to tell anyone of his ambitions, even if he had to sleep out in the open, on the grass, or, like tonight, with water for his bed. How to make his mother, whom he imagined to be the unhappiest person in the world, the happiest, was what drove him on. And how could he do something for his poor sister, who thought she could never marry?
He had his own desires as well. His stomach never felt full, no matter how much he ate. Seeing large mansions, he wanted to live in such places, and the sight of elegant samurai made him reflect on his own appearance; looking at beautiful women, he was overwhelmed by their perfume. Not that his priorities had changed. First came his mother's happiness. His own wants could be taken care of later. For the time being he took pleasure in wandering from place to place, ignoring his hunger, and learning new things—about the workings of the world, human passions, the customs of different areas. He tried to understand current events, compared the military strength of the different provinces, and studied the ways of farmers and townsfolk.
TAIKO: AN EPIC NOVEL OF WAR AND GLORY IN FEUDAL JAPAN Page 8