He allocated the posts and divided the men, and then shouted with authority enough to start a battle, "Let's begin!"
Tokichiro also found work for his new subordinates. He ordered one of them to beat a drum. When he commanded the workers to begin, the man beat the drum as though they were marching into battle, one beat to every six paces.
Two beats of the drum sounded a break.
"Rest!" Tokichiro gave the order standing on top of a boulder. If someone didn't rest, he scolded him.
The construction site had been swept clean of the indolence that had prevailed until then; it was replaced by an intensity of activity more common on the battlefield, and by the sweat of excitement. But Tokichiro looked on silently, satisfaction never showing in his face. Not yet. Not like this, he thought.
Taught by their many years of labor, the workmen knew how to use their bodies in crafty ways. They gave the impression of working hard, but in fact they were not wringing out real sweat. Their resistance was such that they took a little comfort by showing obedience on the surface, but not truly working hard. Tokichiro's past life had been drowned in sweat, and he knew the true value and beauty of that sweat.
It is untrue to state that labor is a thing of the body. If labor is not filled with the spirit, there's no difference between the sweat of men and that of cows and horses. Keeping his mouth shut, he thought about the true nature of sweat and work. These men were working in order to eat. Or they were working in order to feed parents, wives, and children. They worked for food or pleasure, and they did not rise above that. Their work was small. And it was mean. Their desires were so limited that pity welled up inside Tokichin and he thought, I was like that too, before. Is it reasonable to expect great works from people with little hope? If he couldn't imbue them with a greater spirit, there was no reason for them to work with greater efficiency.
For Tokichiro, standing silently on the construction site, half a day passed quicky.
Half a day was one-sixth of his allotted time. Looking at the site, however, he could see no signs that they had made any progress since morning. Both above and below the scaffolding, the men seemed to be full of eagerness, but it was nothing more than a sham. On the contrary, they anticipated Tokichiro's complete and overwhelming defeat in three days.
"It's noon. Beat the drum," Tokichiro ordered. The noise and uproar of the construction site came to a halt all at once. When Tokichiro saw that the workers had taken out their lunches, he sheathed his sword and went off.
The afternoon ended with the same atmosphere at the construction site, except that discipline had broken down and indolence was more evident than it had been during the morning. It was no different from the day before, when Yamabuchi Ukon had been in charge. Even worse, the workers and coolies had been ordered to work without rest or sleep from this evening on, and knew that they were not going to be let out of the castie grounds for three days. Thus they begrudged their labor even more and did nothing but think of more ways to cheat as they worked.
"Stop your work! Stop your work! Wash your hands and meet in the square!" It was still light, but the official suddenly made the rounds beating the drum.
"What's going on?" the workers asked each other suspiciously. When they asked the foremen, they were answered with shrugs. They all went to the square where the lumber was kept, to see what this was about. There in the open, sake and food had been put into piles as high as mountains. They were told to be seated, and sat on straw mats, stones, and lumber. Tokichiro sat down in the very center of the workmen and raised his cup.
"Well, this isn't much, but we have three days before us. One day has already passed quickly, but I would like you to work and try the impossible. So, just tonight, please drink and rest to your hearts' content."
His manner was completely different from what it had been that morning, and he himself set an example by drinking a cup. "Come on," he shouted, "drink up. For those of you who don't like sake, there's food and sweets."
The workers were amazed. Suddenly they began to worry about finishing the project by the third day.
But Tokichiro was the first to get tipsy.
"Hey! There's plenty of sake. And it's the castle's, so no matter how much we drink, there'll be more in the storehouse. If we drink, we can dance, sing, or just sleep until the beat of the drum."
The workers soon stopped complaining. Not only were they being released from work, but they were also unexpectedly receiving food and sake. More than that, the overseer himself was relaxing and mixing with them.
"This gentleman has a sense of humor, doesn't he?"
When the sake began to take effect, they started to tell jokes. But the foremen still looked at Tokichiro coolly.
"Huh! He's being clever, but it's transparent." And this made them even more hostile. With looks on their faces that questioned the propriety of drinking sake in the workplace, they didn't touch their cups.
"Foremen! What's the matter?" Tokichiro got up, cup in hand, and sat down amid
their cold looks. "You aren't drinking anything at all. Maybe you're thinking that foremen have responsibilities much like generals and therefore shouldn't drink, but don't be so anxious. What can be done, can be done. What can't be done, can't be done. If I was wrong, and we can't do this in three days, the matter will be closed with my suicide. Forcing the foreman who had the bitterest look to take a cup, Tokichiro poured from the flask himself. "Well, if we're talking about anxiety, it's not so much this particular construction project or even my own life that concerns me. I worry about the fate of the province in which you all live. But taking over twenty days to do just this little bit of construction—with that kind of spirit, this province is going to perish."
His words were charged with emotion. Suddenly the workers fell quiet. Tokichiro looked up at the evening stars as though in lamentation. "I imagine that all of you seen the rise and fall of provinces, too. And you know the misery of the people who lived in fallen provinces. Well, it's something that cannot be helped. Naturally enough, His Lordship, his generals, and those of us who are the lowest samurai do not forget about the defense of the smallest part of the province, even when we sleep.
"But the rise and fall of a province is not in its castle. It's right here, in you. The people of the province are its stone walls and moats. Working on the construction of this castle, you may feel as though you're plastering the walls of somebody else's house, but you’re wrong. You're building your own defenses. What would happen if this casste was burnt to the ground one day? Surely it would not be the fate of the castle alone. The castle town, too, would be engulfed in flames, and the entire province would be destroyed. It would be like a scene from hell: children ripped away from their parents, old folks looking for their children, young girls screaming in panic, the sick burnt alive. Ah, if the province were to fall, it would really be the end. You all have parents, children, wives, and sick relatives. You must always, always remember."
Even die foremen stopped sneering and looked serious. They too had property and families, and Tokichiro's words struck home.
"So why is it that we are at peace today? Fundamentally, of course, it's thanks to His Lordship. But you, the people of this province, most certainly protect us with this castle as your very center. No matter how much we samurai fight, if the heart—the people—were to waver…" Tokichiro spoke with tears in his eyes, but he was not pretending. He grieved from the heart and meant every word he spoke.
Those who were struck by the truth of his words were immediately sobered and hushed. Someone wept and blew his nose. It was the carpenters' foreman—the most influential and oldest hand—who had been more openly opposed than anyone to Tokichiro.
Ah, me!…Ah, me!" He dried the tears on his pockmarked cheeks. The others looked on, amazed. When he realized they were all looking at him, he suddenly pushed through his colleagues and threw himself down in front of Tokichiro.
“I have no excuses. I understand my own foolishness and superficial
ity now. You should tie me up as a lesson, and hurry on with this construction for the sake of the province." Head bowed, the old man trembled as he spoke.
At first, Tokichiro looked at him with blank amazement, but then he nodded slightly and said, "Hm. You were told to do this by Yamabuchi Ukon, right?"
“You knew it all along, Master Kinoshita."
"How could I not know? And Ukon told you and the others not to come to my house when I invited you."
"That's right."
"And he told you to be as slow as possible at the construction site, to delay the work purposely, and to disobey my orders."
"Y-yes."
"It's not surprising that he would do such things. And if all of you made a mess of things, your heads would be lined up too. Well, all right, don't blubber. I'll certainly pardon you for realizing that you've done wrong."
"But there's more. Yamabuchi Ukon told us that if we worked as poorly as possible and slowed things down so that it exceeded three days, he would give us all a load of money. But listening to what you just said, I know that accepting Master Yamabuchi's money and setting ourselves against you was working toward our own destruction. Now I see things clearly. As the leader of the mutineers, I should punished, and the construction completed without delay."
Tokichiro smiled, realizing that with a single turn, a strong enemy had become a sincere ally. Rather than tying the man up, Tokichiro gave him a cup. "There's no guilt in you. At the instant you come to this realization, you become the most loyal citizen of this province. Come on, have a drink. Then, after a rest, let's get to work."
The foreman received the cup with both hands and bowed from the heart. But he did not drink. "Hey! Everybody!" he shouted, suddenly jumping up and lifting his cup high. "We will do exactly as Master Kinoshita says. After one drink, let's get to work. We should be ashamed of ourselves, and it's a wonder that we haven't been punished by heaven. I've devoured rice in vain so far, but from now on I'm going to try to make up for it. I'm going to try to be of real service. I've made up my mind. What about the rest of you?"
As soon as the foreman had finished, the others stood up all at once. Lets go!
"We'll do it!" they all shouted.
"Ah, thank you!" said Tokichiro, raising his cup too. "Well, I'm going to put away this sake for three days. When we've finished the work, we're going to drink it to our hearts' content! Also, I don't know how much money Yamabuchi Ukon said he would give you, but after we've finished this job, I'll reward you as much as I'm able."
"We won't need anything like that." With the pockmarked foreman leading, they all downed their cups in one gulp. And, just like warriors about to fight in the vanguard of a battle, they dashed back to the construction site.
Watching their spirit, Tokichiro experienced heartfelt relief for the first time.
"I've done it!" he blurted out without thinking. He was not going to miss this chance, however; he mixed with the others, working in the mud, laboring like a madman for the next three nights and two days.
* * *
"Monkey, Monkey!" There was somebody calling him. He saw that it was Inuchiyo, looking unusually agitated.
"Inuchiyo."
"This is good-bye."
"What?"
"I've been exiled."
"Why?"
"I cut someone down in the castle, and Lord Nobunaga reprimanded me. For the present, I've been made a ronin."
"Who did you cut down?"
"Yamabuchi Ukon. You'll understand my feelings better than anyone else."
"Ah, you were too quick."
"The hot blood of youth! I thought of that right after I cut him down, but it was too late. One's nature comes out unconsciously, even if it's repressed. Well then…"
"Are you going right away?"
"Monkey, take care of Nene. This shows that she and I were not meant for one another. Look after her."
About the same time, a single unruly horse pierced the darkness as it galloped from Kiyosu toward Narumi. Seriously wounded, Yamabuchi Ukon held fast to the saddle. It was eight or nine leagues to Narumi, and Ukon's horse galloped quickly.
It was already dark and no one could see, but had it been daylight, passersby would have seen the blood that fell with the galloping of the horse. Ukon's wound was deep but not fatal. Nevertheless, as he clung to the horse's mane, he wondered which would be faster: the horse's hooves or death.
If I can only make it to Narumi Castle, he thought, remembering that when he had been struck by Maeda Inuchiyo, Inuchiyo had almost flown at him, screaming, "Traitor!
The voice that had brought down this accusation was like a nail driven right into his skull, and would not fade away. Now, between his hazy consciousness and the wind that cut through him on the galloping horse's back, his thoughts wandered. How had Inuchiyo found out? As he considered how this event was going to affect Narumi Castle and the fortunes not only of his father but of his entire clan, panic seized him and he began to bleed heavily.
Narumi Castle was one of the branch castles of the Oda clan. Ukon's father, Samanosuke, had been made Narumi's governor by Nobuhide. Nevertheless, his vision of the world was limited, and what he saw did not portend a great future. When Nobuhide had died, Nobunaga was fifteen, and his reputation was at its lowest. At that time Samanosuke had given up on him and secretly allied himself with Imagawa Yoshimoto.
Nobunaga had discovered Narumi's treason and had attacked the castle twice, but Narumi had not fallen. There was reason for it not to fall; it was supported at the rear by the mighty Imagawa, both militarily and economically. Nobunaga could attack in any way he liked, but his own strength was always spent in vain. Nobunaga understood this and ignored the rebels for a number of years.
But the Imagawa, in their turn, started to doubt Samanosuke's loyalty. Narumi was being looked upon with suspicion by both sides, and being regarded in this way by the ruler of a large province could only advance one's own demise. So, whatever his real intentions, Samanosuke went to Nobunaga, lamented his many years of misconduct, and
begged to be returned to his former position.
"The branch never outgrows the trunk. It would be good if you understood that. Try to be loyal from now on." With these words, Nobunaga forgave him.
After that, the public works of both father and son were many and impressive, and their former treachery was forgotten. But what had been well hidden was seen by two men: Maeda Inuchiyo and Kinoshita Tokichiro. Ukon had been worried about these two or some time, but then Tokichiro had taken the position of overseer of building works, and the following day Inuchiyo had attacked and wounded Ukon. Now, assuming that he had been discovered, and stumbling from his wounds, he fled from the castle and made his way to Narumi.
It was dawn by the time he saw the gate of the castle. When he was sure he had arrived, he fainted, still clinging to the horse's back. When he came to, he was surrounded by the castle guards, who were attending to his wounds. When his head cleared and he got to his feet, the men around him looked relieved.
The situation was quickly reported to Samanosuke, and several of his attendants rushed out, their eyes wide, asking anxiously:
"Where is the young master?"
"How is he?"
They were dismayed. But the most shocked of all was his father. Seeing his son helped into the garden by the guards, he ran out himself, unable to suppress a father's anguish.
"Are his wounds deep?"
"Father…" Ukon collapsed and said, "I'm sorry…," before he fainted again.
"Inside! Quickly, take him inside!" Samanosuke's face was suffused with regret for the irrevocable. He had been anxious about Ukon's serving Nobunaga from the very beginning, for Samanosuke, not having genuinely returned to the Oda clan, was not yet committed to submission. But when Ukon was opportunely appointed to the post of overseer for the rebuilding of the castle walls, Samanosuke saw it as an opportunity for which he had been waiting for years, and immediately sent off a secret message to the Imagawa
:
Now is the time to strike at the Oda clan. If you strike at Kiyosu Castle with five thousand men from the province's eastern border, I will raise my forces and take the offensive. At the same time, my son will throw the castle into confusion from within, by setting it on fire.
Thus he hoped to move Imagawa Yoshimoto to a manly resolution. The Imagawa, lowever, did not move suddenly, despite his request. Regardless of what was said, the Yamabuchi—both father and son—had held long service with the Oda. The Imagawa vere suspicious of their plan. Hearing nothing from either the first or second messengers he had sent, Samanosuke sent a third two days later, with a note saying, "Now is the time.”
Meanwhile, Ukon had been wounded and had fled back alone. And it did not look like a private quarrel. It seemed as though their plot had been discovered. Samanosuke was dismayed, and called his entire clan together for a conference.
"Even though there may not be cooperation from the Imagawa, we can do nothing more than make our military preparations and be ready for the onslaught of the Oda. If word of our rebellion reaches the Imagawa, and they join the fray, then our original hopes of crushing the Oda with a single blow may yet be realized."
Nobunaga had little to say after exiling Inuchiyo. Taking his moods into account, not one of his attendants talked about Inuchiyo. But Nobunaga was not fully satisfied, and he said, "When two warriors fight in camp, or a blade is drawn on the castle grounds, it is an absolute rule that the punishment should be strict, regardless of the reasons for the argument. Inuchiyo's a valuable man, but quick-tempered by nature. And this is the second time he's wounded a retainer. Magnanimity beyond this cannot be permitted by law."
Later that night he grumbled to the senior retainer on duty, "That Inuchiyo! I wonder where he's gone, now that he's been banished. Being a ronin is good for the soul. Maybe a little hardship will do him some good."
TAIKO: AN EPIC NOVEL OF WAR AND GLORY IN FEUDAL JAPAN Page 25