From the beginning of the civil wars to the end of the last century, many men had trained in the martial arts. It meant a life of hardship, and for a year and a half Hiyoshi had followed the Way of the Warrior. But he had not gone about with a long sword at his side, aiming to perfect his martial skills. In fact, with his little bit of money he had bought needles from a wholesaler and had become an itinerant peddler. He had walked as far as Kai and Hokuetsu, his sales pitch always on the tip of his tongue. "Need any needles? Here we have sewing needles from Kyoto. Won't you buy them? Needles for cotton, needles for silk. Sewing needles from Kyoto." His earnings were meager, barely enough to live on. He did not, however, become small-minded, as merchants are prone to do, seeing the world only in terms of their wares.
The Hojo clan of Odawara, the Takeda of Kai, the Imagawa of Suruga. Visiting the castle towns of the north, he sensed that the world was stirring, going through a great change. He came to the conclusion that the coming events would be different from the small battles that had, until now, been symptomatic of internal discord. There would be a great war and it would heal all the country's ills. And if it does, he thought as he walked around selling his wares, then even I… .The world is getting tired of the decrepit Ashikaga regime. There's chaos all around and the world is waiting for those of us who are young.
Having traveled from the northern provinces to Kyoto and Omi, he had learned a little about life. He had crossed into Owari and arrived at Okazaki, hearing that a relative of his father lived in this castle town. He was not about to go to relatives or acquaintances to ask for food and clothing, but early that summer he had become weak and was suffering from a bad case of food poisoning. He also wanted to hear news of home.
He had walked for two days under the bright, scorching sun, but had been unable to find the man he was looking for. After eating a raw cucumber and drinking water from a well, he had felt a sharp pain in his gut. In the evening he had followed the bank of the Yahagi River until he found a boat. His stomach felt sore and rumbled. Perhaps because he had a slight fever, his mouth was dry and felt as though it was full of thorns. Even now, he thought of his mother, and she came to him in his dreams. Later he fell into a deeper sleep, and nothing—neither his mother nor the pain in his stomach nor heaven and earth—existed any longer. Until, that is, the soldier began rapping on his chest the spear.
Hiyoshi's waking shout was disproportionate to the size of his body. He instinctively grabbed hold of the spear. In those days the chest was believed to be the location of the soul, like a shrine within the body.
"Hey, runt, get up!"
The soldier tried to pull back his spear. Hiyoshi held on to it and sat up.
"Get up? I am up."
The man, feeling the strength of Hiyoshi's grip on the spear, scowled and said, “Get out of the boat!"
"Get out?"
"Yes, now! We need the boat, so clear out. Get lost!"
Hiyoshi angrily sat down again. "What if I don't want to?"
"What?"
"What if I don't want to?"
"What do you mean?"
"I don't want to get out of the boat."
"You little bastard!"
"Who's the bastard? Waking a man from a deep sleep by tapping him with a spear, then telling him to get out and get lost?"
"Shit! You'd better watch how you talk. Who do you think I am?"
"A man."
"That's obvious."
"You're the one who asked."
"Your mouth works pretty well, doesn't it, for a little runt? In a second it may wrinkle up and shrink. We are men of the Hachisuka clan. Our leader is Hachisuka Koroku. We got here in the middle of the night, and we need a boat to cross the river."
"You can see the boat but not the man. Anyway, I'm using it!"
"I saw you and woke you up. Now get out of there and get lost."
"Annoying, aren't you?"
"Say that again?"
"As many times as you like. I don't want to get out. I'm not giving up this boat."
The man yanked on the shaft of the spear in an effort to pull Hiyoshi onto the bank. Choosing his moment, Hiyoshi let go. The spear sheared through the leaves of the willows, and the soldier tumbled over backwards. Reversing the spear, he thrust it point-first at Hiyoshi. Rotting planks, a bilge bucket, and the reed mat came flying out of the boat.
"Fool!" Hiyoshi mocked.
Other soldiers came running up.
"Stop! What's going on here?" one said.
"Who's this?" asked another.
They crowded together, making a lot of noise, and before long Koroku and the rest of his men were there.
"Did you find a boat?" Koroku asked.
"There's a boat here, but—"
Koroku quietly came to the front of the group. Hiyoshi, thinking that this must be the leader, sat up a little straighter, and looked Koroku straight in the face. Koroku's eyes were riveted on Hiyoshi. Neither spoke. Koroku did not notice Hiyoshi's strange appearance. He was too surprised by the way Hiyoshi looked straight into his eyes. He's bolder than he looks, Koroku thought. The longer they stared at each other, the more Hiyoshi's eyes were like those of a nocturnal animal, shining out of the darkness. Finally, Koroku looked away.
"A child," he said calmly.
Hiyoshi did not respond. His eyes, like an archer's arrows, were still aimed straight at Koroku's face.
"He's a child," Koroku repeated.
"You talking about me?" Hiyoshi asked sullenly.
"Of course. Is there anyone else besides you down there?"
Hiyoshi squared his shoulders a little. "I'm not a child. I've had my coming-of-age ceremony."
"Is that so?" Koroku's shoulders shook with laughter. "If you're an adult, I'll treat you like one."
"Now that you've got me—one man—surrounded by a large group, what are you going to do with me? I suppose you're ronin"
"You're very funny."
"Not funny at all. I was soundly asleep. Besides, I've got a stomachache. Anyway, I don't care who you are. I don't want to move."
"Hm, your stomach hurts?"
"Yes."
"What's seems to be the matter?"
"Food poisoning, maybe, or heatstroke."
"Where are you from?"
"Nakamura in Owari."
"Nakamura? Well, well. What's your family name?"
"I won't tell you my family name, but my given name is Hiyoshi. But wait a minute, what is this, waking a person from his sleep and asking about his parentage? Where you from and what is your lineage?"
"Like you, I'm from Owari, the village of Hachisuka in Kaito district. My name Hachisuka Koroku. I didn't know there were people like you so close to our village. What sort of work do you do?"
Instead of answering, Hiyoshi said, "Ah, you're from Kaito district? That's not far from my village." He suddenly became more friendly. Here was his chance to ask for news about Nakamura. "Well, seeing we're from the same district, I'll change my mind,. You can have the boat."
He took the bundle of merchandise he'd been using as a pillow, slung it over his shoulder, and climbed up onto the bank. Koroku silently watched his every movement. He noticed first the air of a street vendor and the offhand retorts of an adolescent had traveled here and there all by himself. Hiyoshi resigned himself, sighed, and started to leave with a heavy heart.
"Wait, Hiyoshi. Where are you going from here?"
"My boat's been taken, so I have no place to sleep. If I sleep in the grass, I'll get damp from the dew, and my stomach will hurt more. There's nothing else I can do. I'll walk around until dawn."
"If you like, come with me."
"Where to?"
"Hachisuka. Stay at my place. We'll feed you and look after you until you're cured.”
"Thank you." Hiyoshi made a meek little bow. Looking at his own feet, he seemed to be thinking of what to do next. "Does that mean you'll let me live there and work for you?" he asked.
"I like your manner. You've got
promise. If you want to serve me, I'll employ you.”
"I don't." He said this very clearly, his head held high. "Because my aim is to serve a samurai, I've gone around comparing the samurai and provincial lords of various provinces. I've decided that the most important thing in serving a samurai is choosing the right one. One does not choose one's master lightly."
"Ha, ha! This is getting more and more interesting. Am I, Koroku, not good enough to be your master?"
"I wouldn't know about that until you hired me, but the Hachisuka clan is not well spoken of in my village. And the master of the house I served in before was robbed man said to be a member of the Hachisuka clan. It would pain my mother if I worked for a thief, so I can't go to the house of such a person and serve him."
"Well, I guess you worked for the pottery merchant Sutejiro."
"How did you know?"
"Watanabe Tenzo was a member of the Hachisuka clan. But I myself have disowned the scoundrel. He escaped, but we have defeated his band and are now on our way back home. Has the name of the Hachisuka been slandered even as far as your ears?"
"Hm. You don't seem to be like him," Hiyoshi said this very frankly, looking right at Koroku. Then, as though he had suddenly remembered something, he said, "Well, sir, without any sort of obligation, will you take me as far as Hachisuka? I'd like to go to my relative's house in Futatsudera."
"Futatsudera is right next to Hachisuka. Who do you know there?"
"The cooper Shinzaemon is related to my mother's side of the family."
"Shinzaemon is of samurai stock. Well then, your mother too must be a descendant of samurai."
"I may be a peddler now, but my father was a samurai."
The men had boarded the boat and fixed the pole in place, and were waiting for Koroku to get on board. Koroku put his arm around Hiyoshi's shoulders and they got on the boat.
"Hiyoshi, if you want to go to Futatsudera, go to Futatsudera. If you want to stay in Hachisuka, that'll be all right too."
Being small, Hiyoshi was hidden among the men and their spears, which stood like a forest of trees. The boat cut across the wide river, but the current was swift, and the crossing took time. Hiyoshi got bored. Suddenly he saw a firefly on the back of one of Koroku's soldiers. Cupping his hands, he caught it and watched its light flash on and off.
The Mountain of the Golden Flower
Even when he had returned to Hachisuka, Koroku was not about to let Tenzo get away unpunished. He had sent assassins after him and had written to clans in distant provinces to ask his whereabouts. Autumn came, and he still had nothing to show for his efforts. Rumor had it that Tenzo had found refuge with the Takeda clan of Kai. He had presented them with the stolen gun and had entered their service as one of the army of spies and agitators working for the province.
"If he's reached Kai…" Koroku muttered bitterly, but for the time being he could nothing but resign himself to waiting.
Soon after, he was visited by a messenger from the retainer of the Oda clan who had invited him to the tea ceremony. The man brought with him the akae water pitcher.
"We know that this has been the cause of considerable trouble in your family, though we bought this famous piece in good faith, we feel that we can no longer keep it. We believe that if you return it to the pottery shop, you will restore the honor of your name."
Koroku took the pitcher, promising he would pay a return visit. In the end he did not go in person, but sent a messenger with gifts: a splendid saddle and gold worth twice much as the pitcher. That same day he summoned Matsubara Takumi and told him to get ready to go on a short trip. Then he went out onto the veranda.
"Monkey!" he called.
Hiyoshi came skipping out from the trees and knelt before Koroku. He had first gone to Futatsudera, but he had come back directly to Hachisuka and settled into his new life. He was quick-witted and would do anything. People made jokes at his expense, but he refrained from doing the same. He was talkative but never insincere. Koroku put him to work in the garden and became quite fond of him. Although Hiyoshi was a servant, he did more than just sweep the grounds. His work kept him close to Koroku, so he was under his master's eye day and night. After sunset he became a guard. Naturally, this kind of assignment was only given to the most trusted men.
"You're to go with Takumi and show him the way to the pottery shop in Shinkawa."
"To Shinkawa?"
"What are you making such a long face for?"
"But—"
"I can see you don't want to go, but Takumi is to return the water pitcher to its rightful owner. I thought it would be a good idea if you went along too."
Hiyoshi prostrated himself and touched his forehead to the ground.
Since he had come along as an attendant, when they arrived at Sutejiro's Hiyoshi waited outside. Not knowing what to make of this, his former co-workers came up and stared. He himself seemed to have completely forgotten that some of them had laughed at him and beaten him before he had been sent home. Smiling at everyone, he squatted in the sunshine, waiting for Takumi. Presently, Takumi came out of the house.
The unexpected return of the stolen pitcher made Sutejiro and his wife so happy they were not sure they weren't dreaming. They hastened to arrange their visitor's sandals so he could slip them on easily, then hurried on ahead of him to the gate, where they bowed repeatedly. Ofuku, too, was there, and he was startled to see Hiyoshi.
"We'll try to find the time to come to Hachisuka and pay our respects in person," said Sutejiro. "Please give His Lordship our very best regards. Thank you again for taking the trouble to come all this way." Husband, wife, Ofuku, and all the employees bowed low. Hiyoshi followed Takumi out and waved to them as he left.
As they walked past the Komyo hills, he wondered sadly, How's my aunt in Yabuyama? And my poor sick uncle? He may be dead already. They were close to Nakamura, and naturally he thought of his mother and sister. He would have liked nothing better than to run over for a moment and see them, but the vow he had made on that frosty night stopped him. He still had done nothing to make his mother happy. As he turned reluctantly away from Nakamura, he met a man in the uniform of a foot soldier.
"Say, aren't you Yaemon's son?"
"And who are you, may I ask?"
"You're Hiyoshi, aren't you?"
"Yes."
"My, you've gotten big! My name is Otowaka. I was a friend of your father. We served in the same regiment under Lord Oda Nobuhide."
"I remember you now! Have I really gotten that big?"
"Ah, I wish your poor dead father could see you now."
Tears came to Hiyoshi's eyes. "Have you seen my mother lately?" he asked.
"I haven't been to the house, but I go to Nakamura from time to time and hear news. She seems to be working as hard as usual."
"She's not sick, is she?"
"Why don't you go see for yourself?"
"I can't go home until I become a great man."
"Just go and show your face. She's your mother, after all."
Hiyoshi wanted to cry. He looked away. When he felt all right again, Otowaka was already walking away in the opposite direction. Takumi had moved on, and was some disance ahead.
* * *
The lingering summer heat had finally faded; the mornings and evenings felt like autumn, and the leaves of the taro plants were lush and full-grown.
"This moat hasn't been dredged for five years at least," Hiyoshi muttered. "We're forever practicing horsemanship and learning spear techniques, and we let mud pile up atour very feet! That's no good." Having returned from the bamboo cutter's house, he was inspecting the mansion's old moat. "What's a moat for, anyway? I'll have to bring this the master's attention."
Hiyoshi tested the depth of the water with a bamboo pole. The surface of the water was covered by water plants, so no one took much notice; but because fallen leaves and mud had accumulated over the years, the moat was not really very deep anymore. After testing the depth in two or three places, he threw away
the pole. He was about to cross the bridge to the side gate when someone called out, "Master Half-pint." This was not a reference to his height, but the customary way to address a servant of a provincial clan
"Who are you?" Hiyoshi asked of a hungry-looking man sitting under an oak tree, hugging his knees. He wore a dirty gray kimono with a bamboo flute stuck in the sash.
"Come here a moment." The man waved him over. He was a komuso, one of the mendicant flute-playing monks who came to the village now and then. Like the rest, this one was dirty and unshaven, and carried a bamboo flute in a reed mat slung over his shoulder. Some of them went from village to village like Zen monks, attracting people’s attention by ringing a hand bell.
"Alms for a monk? Or are you too busy thinking of your next meal?"
"No." Hiyoshi was about to make fun of him, but knowing how tough the life of a traveler could be, he offered instead to bring him food if he was hungry and medicine he was sick.
Shaking his head, the man looked up at Hiyoshi and laughed. "Well, won't you sit down?"
"I prefer to stand, thanks. What's on your mind?"
"Are you in service here?"
"Not really." Hiyoshi shook his head. "I get my meals but I'm not a member of the household."
"Hm… Do you work in the back, or in the main house?"
"I sweep the garden."
"A guard of the inner garden, eh? You must be one of Master Koroku's favorites?"
"I wouldn't know."
"Is he at home now?"
"He's out."
"That's a shame," the monk mumbled. He looked disappointed. "Will he be back today?"
Hiyoshi thought there was something suspicious about the man and he hesitated, thinking it best to choose his answers carefully.
"Is he coming back?" the man asked again.
Hiyoshi said, "I'll bet you're a samurai. If you're nothing but a monk, you must be a real novice."
Startled, the man stared intently at Hiyoshi. At length he asked, "Why do you think I'm either a samurai or a novice?"
Hiyoshi answered casually, "It's obvious. Although your skin is tanned, the underside of your fingers are white, and your ears are fairly clean. As for proof that you're a samurai, you're sitting cross-legged on the mat, warrior-style, as if you were still wearing armor. A beggar or monk would bend his back and slump forward. Simple, isn't it?"
TAIKO: AN EPIC NOVEL OF WAR AND GLORY IN FEUDAL JAPAN Page 9