"Hm… you're right." The man got up off the mat without taking his eyes off Hiyoshi for even a second. "You have very keen eyes. I've gone through many border posts and checkpoints in enemy territory, and no one's caught on to me yet."
"There are as many fools as wise men in the world, wouldn't you say? Anyway, what do you want with my master?"
The man lowered his voice. "The truth is, I've come from Mino."
"Mino?"
"If you were to mention Namba Naiki, a retainer to Saito Dosan, Master Koroku would understand. I wanted to see him and leave quickly without anyone knowing, but if he's not here, there's nothing to be done. I'd better keep to the village during the day and come back this evening. If he returns, tell him what I said privately."
Naiki started to walk away. But Hiyoshi called him back, saying, "It was a lie."
"Huh?"
"That he's away. I said that because I didn't know who you were. He's at the riding grounds."
"Ah, so he is here."
"Yes. I'll take you to him."
"You're pretty sharp, aren't you?"
"In a military household, it's only natural to be cautious. Should I assume that the men in Mino are impressed by this sort of thing?"
"No, you should not!" Naiki said, annoyed.
Following the moat, they crossed the vegetable patch, and taking the path that went behind the wood, they came to the wide riding grounds.
The earth was dry, and dust rose into the sky. The men of Hachisuka were training hard. They were not just practicing riding. In one maneuver, they drew up stirrup-to-stirrup and exchanged blows with staves just as if they were fighting in a real battle.
"Wait here," Hiyoshi instructed Naiki.
Having observed the training session, Koroku wiped the sweat from his brow and went to the rest hut for a drink.
"Some hot water, sir?" Hiyoshi ladled out some hot water and diluted it a bit to cool it. He took the cup and, kneeling, placed it before Koroku's camp stool. Hiyoshi drew nearer and whispered, "A messenger has come from Mino in secret. Shall I bring him here? Or will you go to him?"
"From Mino?" Koroku immediately got up. "Monkey, lead the way. Just where did you leave him?"
"On the other side of the forest."
There was no official treaty between the Saito of Mino and the Hachisuka, but for many years they had been bound by a secret alliance to help one another in emergencies. In return, the Hachisuka received a handsome annual stipend from Mino.
Koroku was surrounded by powerful neighbors—the Oda of Owari, the Tokugawa of Mikawa, and the Imagawa of Suruga—but he had never sworn allegiance to any of them. He owed his independence to the watchful eyes of the lord of Inabayama Castle, Saito Dosan. Their territories being separated by some distance, the reason the Hachisuka and the Saito had entered into such an alliance was not clear.
One story was that Masatoshi, Koroku's predecessor, had rescued a man close death in front of the Hachisuka mansion. He seemed to be a wandering swordsman following the rigorous discipline of the martial arts. Feeling sorry for him, Masatoshi h taken him in and given him the best medical care. After the man had recovered, Masatoshi had even given him some traveling money.
"I won't forget this," the man swore. On the day of his departure he pledged, "When I've made my fortune, I will send you word and repay you for your kindness." The name that he left with them was Matsunami Sokuro.
Several years later a letter had arrived, bearing the signature Lord Saito Dosan. To their surprise, it was from the man whom they had known as Sokuro. The alliance was an old one, passed on from one generation to the next. So, as soon as Koroku knew that the secret messenger was from Saito Dosan, he hurried out to meet him.
There in the shadows of the forest, the two men exchanged greetings, then, looking each other in the eye, each man raised his open palm to his chest, as if in prayer.
"I am Hachisuka Koroku."
"I am Namba Naiki of Inabayama."
As a young man, Dosan had studied Buddhism at Myokakuji Temple. This experience had led him to use the secret Buddhist terms and signs he had learned in temples and monasteries as passwords among his men.
Once they had finished these formalities and authenticated their identities, the two men felt more at their ease and talked freely. Koroku ordered Hiyoshi to stand guard and to let absolutely no one pass, and he and Naiki walked deeper into the forest. Whatever the two men talked about, or whatever secret documents Naiki might have brought with him, were, of course, not revealed to Hiyoshi, nor did he want to know. He stood faithfully at the edge of the forest, keeping watch. When he had a task to perform, he did it: if he was to sweep the garden, he swept it; if he was to stand guard, he stood guard. He did a thorough job, whatever it was. Unlike other men, he was able to find pleasure in any job that he was given, but this was not simply because he was born poor. Rather, he saw the work at hand as a preparation for the next task. He was convinced that this was the way he would one day realize his ambitions.
What do I have to do to become somebody in the world? This was a question often asked himself. Some had pedigree and lineage, but not he. Others had money and power, but Hiyoshi did not have these, either. Well, how am I going to make my fortune? The question depressed him because he was so short, and no healthier than the next man. He had no learning to speak of, and his intelligence was only average. What in the world did he have going for him? Faithfulness—that was all he could come up with. He wasn't going to be faithful in some things and not in others, he was determined to be faithful in all things. He would hold on to his faithfulness because he had nothing else to give.
All or nothing! That was how far he had to go. He would pursue any job to the end, just as though the gods themselves had given him a mission. Whether it was sweeping the garden, being a sandal bearer, or cleaning out the stables, he would put everything he had into it. For the sake of his ambitions, he resolved not to be idle now. To try to separate himself from the present was nonsense in terms of the future.
The small birds of the forest chirped and twittered above Hiyoshi's head. But he did not see the fruit in the trees at which the birds were pecking. When Koroku finally emerged from the forest, he was in high spirits. His eyes were fired by ambition. And his face, which would become strained when he heard about problems, was still flushed by some important news.
"Where is the monk?" asked Hiyoshi.
"He took another path out of the forest." Koroku looked hard at Hiyoshi and said, "Keep this to yourself."
"Of course, sir."
"By the way, Namba Naiki praised you to the skies."
"Really?"
"Someday I'm going to promote you. I hope you decide to stay with us forever!"
Night fell, and the principal members of the clan met in Koroku's residence. The secret council lasted into the small hours. That night, too, Hiyoshi stood beneath the stars in the role of faithful guard.
The strictest secrecy was maintained about the contents of the message from Saito Dosan, the substance being revealed only to the key men. But in the days following the nighttime council, several of Koroku's retainers began to disappear from Hachisuka. They were a select group, the ablest and shrewdest, and they left the village in disguise—bound for Inabayama, it was whispered.
Koroku's younger brother, Shichinai, was one of those chosen to go undercover in Inabayama. Hiyoshi was ordered to accompany him.
"Are we going on a scouting mission? Is there going to be a battle?" he asked.
"Never mind," was the curt reply. "Just keep quiet and come along with me." Shichinai would say nothing more. Lower-ranking members of the household, even the kitchen workers, called him "Master Pockmark," but only behind his back. He made them feel ill at ease, and they detested him. He drank heavily, was arrogant, and had none of the warmheartedness of his elder brother. Hiyoshi quite frankly felt the man was disgusting, but he did not complain about the assignment. He had been chosen because Koroku trusted him. Hiyo
shi had not yet asked to become a member of the clan, but he had agreed to follow orders faithfully. He was ready and willing to serve Shichinai—even this Master Pockmark—to the end, if need be.
On the day of their departure, Shichinai changed his appearance right down to the way he tied his hair. He would be traveling incognito, disguised as an oil merchant from Kiyosu. Hiyoshi changed back into the itinerant needle peddler of the previous summer The two of them were going to be chance traveling companions on the road to Mino.
"Monkey, when we come to the checkpoints, we'd better go through separately."
"All right."
"You're a blabbermouth, so try to keep your mouth shut, whatever they ask you.'
"Yes, sir."
"If you give yourself away, I'll pretend I don't know you and leave you there."
There were many checkpoints along the road. Despite the close ties of kinship that should have made the Oda and the Saito allies, in reality they were exactly the opposite. As a result, both sides were particularly vigilant at their common border. But even when they had crossed into Mino proper, the atmosphere of suspicion did not dissipate, and Hiyoshi asked Shichinai why.
"You're always asking the obvious! Lord Saito Dosan and his son Yoshitatsu have been at odds for years." Shichinai did not seem to be surprised by the enmity between two factions within a single family. Hiyoshi was tempted to question Shichinai's intelligence. It was not as though examples were lacking, even in ancient times, of fathers and sons in the warrior class taking up arms against one another, but there had to be good reasons.
"Why is there a bad relationship between Lord Dosan and Lord Yoshitatsu?" Hiyoshi asked again.
"Don't be a nuisance! If you want to know, ask somebody else." Shichinai clucked his tongue and refused to say anything more. Before arriving in Mino, Hiyoshi had worried that he would be forced to do something against his better judgment.
Inabayama was a picturesque castle town nestling among small mountains. The autumn tints of Mount Inabayama were misty under a fine rain, but there was a hint of sunlight shining through. Autumn was deepening, and one could look at the mountain from morning till night and never tire of it. It looked as if the cliff had been covered with a golden brocade, a phenomenon that had given Inabayama its second name: the Mountain of the Golden Flower. It soared up from the Nagara River, a splendid backdrop the town and fields, and Hiyoshi's eyes grew wide when he saw on its peak the white walls of the castle, small in the distance, crouching like a solitary white bird.
The only way up from the town below was by a tortuous path, and the castle had a plentiful supply of water. Hiyoshi was impressed. It was the kind of stronghold that was difficult to attack and unlikely to fall. Then he reminded himself that a province was not held by castles alone.
Shichinai took a room in a merchants' inn on a street in the prosperous part of town. He gave Hiyoshi only a little money and told him to stay at one of the cheap lodging houses in the back streets.
"After a while I'll give you your orders," he said. "People are going to be suspicious if you're idle, so until I'm ready for you, go out every day with your needles."
Hiyoshi gave a respectful bow, took the money, and did as he was told. The lodging house was not very clean, but he was more at ease being on his own. He still could not imagine what he was going to be ordered to do. There were many different kinds of travelers staying at the lodging house: actors, mirror polishers, and loggers. He was familiar with their unique smell and with the fleas and lice they boarded with.
Hiyoshi went out every day to sell needles, and on his return he brought back salted vegetables and rice, for everyone did his own cooking. The stoves were available to those who paid for the firewood. Seven days passed. Still no word from Shichinai. And wasn't Shichinai himself idle every day? Hiyoshi felt as though he had been abandoned.
Then one day, while Hiyoshi was walking down a side street in a residential area, plying his trade, a man with a leather quiver at his side and a couple of old bows on his shoulder came walking toward him, calling out in a voice far louder than Hiyoshi's, "Old bows repaired! Old bows repaired!"
When he got up close, the bow mender stopped, his eyes widening with surprise. "Why, it's Monkey, isn't it? When did you get here, and who are you with?"
Hiyoshi was no less surprised. The bow mender was Nitta Hikoju, another of Koroku's men.
"Master Hikoju, what are you doing mending bows in Inabayama?"
"Hm, I'm not the only one. There are at least thirty or forty of us. But I didn't expect to find you here."
"I came seven days ago with Master Shichinai, but all he told me to do was go out and sell my needles, so that's what I've been doing. What's it all about, anyway?"
"Don't you know yet?"
"He wouldn't tell me a thing. And there's nothing worse for a man than to have to do something without knowing why."
"Yes, I can imagine."
"Surely you know what's going on."
"If I didn't, would I be walking around mending bows?"
"Please, can't you tell me anything?"
"Hm, Shichinai's unkind. You go around without knowing why your life is at risk. But we can't stand and talk in the middle of the street."
"Our lives are in danger?"
"If you were caught, there'd be a risk of the plan being exposed, but for all our sakes, maybe I should explain so you'll have some idea of what it's all about."
"I'd appreciate that very much."
"But we're too conspicuous standing out here."
"How about behind that shrine?"
"Yeah, and I'm hungry. Why don't we have lunch?"
Hikoju walked ahead, and Hiyoshi followed. The shrine was surrounded by woods, and very quiet. They opened their lunches wrapped in bamboo leaves, and started to eat. The ginkgo leaves above them danced in the sunlight. As they looked through the bright yellow foliage, they saw Mount Inabayama clad in the flaming red leaves of departing autumn. The castle on the peak soared into the blue sky above: the pride of the Saito clan and the symbol of its power.
"That is our objective." Hikoju pointed at Inabayama Castle with his chopsticks, their tips sticky with rice. They were both looking at the same castle, but each saw it quite differently. Hiyoshi's mouth fell open as he stared blankly at the tips of the chopsticks.
"Are the Hachisuka going to storm the castle?"
"Don't be stupid!" Hikoju snapped his chopsticks in two and threw them on the ground. "Lord Dosan's son, Yoshitatsu, holds the castle, and from there he controls the neighborhood and the roads to Kyoto and the east. Within its walls he drills his troops and stores new weapons. The Oda, Imagawa, and Hojo are no match for him. So what could the Hachisuka do? Don't ask such stupid questions. I was going to let you in on plans, but now I don't know whether I should."
"I'm sorry. I won't say anything else." Scolded, Hiyoshi fell meekly silent.
"There isn't anybody around here, is there?" The bow mender looked around and then licked his lips. "I suppose you've heard about the alliance between our clan and Lord Dosan." Hiyoshi limited his reply to a nod. "Father and son have been at odds for years.” Hikoju told Hiyoshi about the feud and the resulting chaos in Mino.
Dosan had once traveled under other names, one of which was Matsunami Sokuro. He was an experienced man: he had been an oil merchant, a wandering swordsman, and even a novice in a temple. Eventually he had risen from the lowly position of oil merchant and seized the province of Mino with his bare hands. To do this, he had killed his 1ord, Toki Masayori, and driven his heir, Yorinari, into exile. He had later taken one of Toki’s concubines. There were countless stories about his brutality and the atrocities he had committed. If more proof were needed of his astuteness, once he had become master of Mino, he had not ceded a single inch of land to his enemies.
But the workings of fate are terrifying. Could it be that what happened next was divine retribution? He adopted Yoshitatsu, the son of his former lord's concubine. But he worried abou
t whether the child was his own or Lord Toki's. As Yoshitatsu grew up, Dosan's doubts became stronger with each passing day.
Yoshitatsu was an imposing man, who stood over six feet tall. When he was made lord of Inabayama, his father moved into Sagiyama Castle, on the other side of the Nagara River. On opposite banks of the river, the destinies of father and son were in the of the gods. Yoshitatsu was in his prime and he ignored the man he assumed to be his fathr. The aging Dosan, ever more suspicious, cursed Yoshitatsu and finally disinherited him, with the idea of putting his second son, Magoshiro, in Yoshitatsu's place. Yoshitatsu, however, was quick to catch on to the plan.
But then Yoshitatsu contracted leprosy and became known as "the Leper Lord." He was a child of fate and eccentric, but also resourceful and brave. Yoshitatsu set up forts to guard against attack from Sagiyama, and never turned down an opportunity to fight. Determined to rid himself of this despicable "Leper Lord"—his own son—Dosan resigned himself to spill blood. Hikoju took a deep breath. "Dosan's retainers are, of course, known hereabouts. We were asked to set fire to the castle town."
"Fire the town!"
"It wouldn't do any good just to suddenly set fires. Before doing that, we're to spread rumors, and when Yoshitatsu and his retainers at Inabayama are unsettled, we pick a windy night and turn the castle town into a sea of flame. Then Dosan's forces will cross the river and attack."
"I see." Hiyoshi nodded with a grown-up look. He showed neither admiration nor disapproval. "So we've been sent here to spread rumors and commit arson."
"Correct."
"So in the end, we're just agitators, aren't we? We're here to stir up the people."
“Well, yes, you could put it that way."
“Isn't being an agitator the work of the lowest outcasts?"
"There's nothing we can do about it. We Hachisuka have been dependent on Lord Dosan for many years now." Hikoju saw things very simply. Hiyoshi looked at him. A ronin was always a ronin, but he had trouble getting used to the idea. Although he got his rice from the table of a ronin, he considered his own life to be precious, and he did not intend to throw it away heedlessly.
TAIKO: AN EPIC NOVEL OF WAR AND GLORY IN FEUDAL JAPAN Page 10