"Tenzo, put down your staff."
"Why? Are you scared?"
"No, I'm not scared, but isn't it a fact that we both have the same duties? It's all right for a man to die for his mission, but to kill each other in this fight would serve no purpose at all. Why don't you take off that monk's robe and give it to me? If you will, I'll take it back and say I killed you."
Ninja had a particular faith among themselves that was not common to other warriors. It was a different view of life naturally brought about by the singularity of their duties. To the ordinary samurai, there could be no higher duty than to die for his lord. The ninja, however, thought quite differently. They held life dear. They had to return alive, regardless of the shame or hardships they had to suffer. For even if a man was able to enter into enemy territory and collect some valuable information, it did no good at all if he did not return to his home province alive. Therefore, if a ninja died in enemy territory, it was a dog's death, no matter how glorious the circumstances might have been. No matter how steeped in the samurai code the individual may have been, if his death was of no value to his lord, it was a dog's death. Thus, even though the ninja might be called a depraved samurai whose sole aim was to keep himself alive, it was his mission and responsibility to do so at all costs.
Both men held to these principles, right to the marrow of their bones. So, when Sanpei had reasoned with his opponent that killing each other would do no one any good and had sheathed his blade, Tenzo immediately drew back his weapon as well.
“I didn't like the idea of becoming your opponent and gambling with my head. If we can finish this thing with a monk's robe, let's do it." He ripped off a piece of the robe he was wearing and threw it at Sanpei's feet. Sanpei picked it up.
“This is enough. If I bring this back as proof, and announce that I've cut down Watanabe Tenzo, the matter will be over and done with. His Lordship certainly won't demand to see the head of a mere ninja."
“This works well for the both of us. Well, then, Sanpei, I'll be going. I'd like to say that I’ll see you again, but I'd better pray that it'll never happen, because I know it would be the last time.” With these parting words, Watanabe Tenzo walked away quickly, as though he had suddenly become afraid of his opponent and was happy to have saved his own skin.
As Tenzo began to descend the slope of the pass, Sanpei picked up the gun and fuse that he had previously hidden in a clump of grass, and followed him.
The report of the gun could be heard echoing through the mountains. Immediately, Sanpei tossed the weapon aside and leaped down the slope like a deer, intending to deal the finishing blow to his fallen enemy.
Watanabe Tenzo had fallen on his back in a clump of weeds on the road. But at the moment Sanpei stood over him and aimed the tip of his sword at his breast, Tenzo grabbed Sanpei's legs and pulled them from under him, bringing him to the ground with terrific force.
Now Tenzo's wild nature came to the fore. While Sanpei lay stunned, he jumped up like a wolf, seized a nearby rock in both hands, and smashed it down onto Sanpei's face. The impact made a sound like a splitting pomegranate.
Then Tenzo was gone.
* * *
Hideyoshi, now commander of Yokoyama Castle, had spent the summer in the cool mountains of northern Omi. Soldiers say that for a fighting man, inactivity is more trying than the battlefield. Discipline cannot be neglected for a day. Hideyoshi's troops had been at rest for one hundred days.
At the beginning of the Ninth Month, however, the command was given to depart for the front, and the gates of Yokoyama Castle were opened. From the time they left the castle until they arrived at the shore of Lake Biwa, the soldiers had no idea where they were going to fight.
There were three large ships berthed by the lake. Built over the New Year, they smelled of newly sawed timber. It was not until after the horses and men had clattered aboard that the soldiers were told that their destination would be either the Honganji or Mount Hiei.
Having crossed the autumnal face of the great lake and arriving at Sakamoto on the opposite shore, Hideyoshi's men were amazed to see that the army under Nobunaga and his generals had arrived ahead of them. In the foothills of Mount Hiei, the banners of the Oda stood as far as the eye could see.
After Nobunaga had lifted the siege of Mount Hiei and withdrawn to Gifu the previous winter, he had ordered the building of large troop ships capable of crossing the lake at a moment's notice. Now the soldiers finally understood his forethought, and the words he had spoken when he abandoned the attack on Nagashima and returned to Gifu.
The flames of rebellion that burned all over the country were merely reflections of the real fire—the root of the evil—whose source was Mount Hiei. Nobunaga was again laying siege to the mountain with a great army. His face showed new resolve, and he spoke loudly enough to be heard from the curtained enclosure of his headquarters all the way to the barracks, almost as if he were addressing the enemy.
"What! You're saying that you won't use fire because the flames might spread to the monasteries? What is war, anyway? Every one of you is a general, and you don't understand even that? How did you ever get this far?"
This much could be heard from the outside. Inside the enclosure, Nobunaga was sitting on his camp stool, surrounded by his veteran generals, all of whom were hanging their heads. Nobunaga was exactly like a father lecturing his children. Even if he was their lord, this sort of criticism was going too far. At least this was what the bitter expression on the faces of the generals indicated as they looked up, daring to look Nobunaga directly in the eye.
What were they fighting for, indeed? If they thought or worried about it, they risked their reputations by rebuking Nobunaga.
"You're being heartless, my lord. It's not that we don't understand, but when you've given us an outrageous order—to burn down Mount Hiei, a place respected for hundreds of years as holy ground dedicated to the peace and preservation of the country—as your retainers—and precisely because we are your retainers—there is all the more reason why we should not obey you," Sakuma Nobumori said.
A do-or-die expression showed clearly on Nobumori's face. If he had not been prepared to die on the spot, he could not have said this to Nobunaga. Especially the way Nobunaga was looking now. Although it was always rather difficult to speak frankly to their lord, today Nobunaga resembled a demon wielding a fiery sword.
"Silence! Silence!" Nobunaga roared, quieting Takei Sekian and Akechi Mitsuhide, who were about to back up Nobumori. "Have you not felt indignation when you watched the insurrections and this disgraceful state of affairs? Monks transgress the Laws of the Buddha, stir up the common people, store wealth and weapons, and spread rumors; under the guise of religion, they are nothing more than self-serving agitators."
"We do not object to punishing these excesses. But it is impossible, in a single day, to reform a religion in which all men fervently believe and which has been granted special authority," Nobumori argued.
"What good is that kind of common sense?" Nobunaga exploded. "It's because we've had eight hundred years of common sense that no one has been able to change the situation, despite people's lamenting over the church's corruption and degeneracy. Even His Majesty the Emperor Shirakawa said that there were three things over which he had no control: dice, the waters of the Kamo River, and the warrior-monks of Mount Hiei. What role in the peace and preservation of the country did this mountain play during the years of civil war? Has it given peace of mind or strength to the common people?" Nobunaga suddenly waved his right hand to the side. "For hundreds of years, when disasters have occurred, the monks have done nothing more than protect their own privileges. With the money donated by the credulous masses, they build stone walls and gates that would befit a fortress and inside they hoard guns and spears. Worse, the monks flaunt their vows openly by eating meat and indulging in sexual intercourse. Let's not even speak of the decadence of Buddhist scholarship. Where is the sin in burning down something like that?"
Nobumori replied, "Everything you say is true, but we must stop you, my lord. We are not going to leave this place until we do, even if it costs us our lives." The three men simultaneously prostrated themselves and remained motionless before Nobunaga.
Mount Hiei was the headquarters of the Tendai sect; the Honganji was the principle stronghold of the Ikko sect. Each called the other "the other sect" in matters of doctrine, and it was only in their opposition to Nobunaga that they were united. If Nobunaga had not had a moment's rest, it was because of the schemes of the men dressed in monks' robes, living on Mount Hiei. They had plotted with the Asai and Asakura clans and the shogun, helped enemies defeated by Nobunaga, sent secret calls for assistance as far as Echigo and Kai, and even incited peasant revolts in Owari.
The three generals knew that without the destruction of this reputedly impregnable Buddhist fortress, the Oda army would be stymied at every turn, and Nobunaga would be unable to realize his dreams.
As soon as Nobunaga had set up his camp, he had given an incredible order: "Attack the mountain and burn everything to the ground, starting with the shrines, the Great Hall, the monasteries, and all the sutras and the holy relics." This was extreme enough, but he went on, "Let no one escape if they're wearing monkish robes. Make no distinction between the wise and the foolish, aristocratic or common monks. Show no mercy to women and children. Even if someone is dressed as a layman, if he's been hiding on the mountain and runs away because of the fire, you may look upon him as part of the present plague as well. Massacre the entire lot, and burn the mountain until there's not a sign of human life left in the ruins!"
Even the Rakasa, the bloodthirsty cannibal demons of the Buddhist hells, could not have done such a thing. The generals who heard his order were unnerved.
"Has he gone mad?" Takei Sekian muttered under his breath, but well within earshot of the other generals. However, only Sakuma Nobumori, Takei Sekian, and Akechi Mitsuhide dared to express their opinions in front of Nobunaga.
Before going to confront their lord, they had pledged, "We may be forced to commit seppuku one after another for going against His Lordship's orders, but we cannot let him carry out this reckless fire attack."
Nobunaga could simply besiege and take Mount Hiei. But where was the need for such slaughter with an attack by fire? If they dared to commit this outrage, they feared that popular sentiment would turn against the Oda. Nobunaga's enemies would rejoice, and they would use the attack as propaganda to blacken his name at every opportunity. He would only be bringing upon himself the kind of evil reputation that men had feared and avoided for hundreds of years.
"We are not going to fight a battle that will bring you to ruin," the three generals said, speaking for all the men present. Their voices quaked with their tearful devotion.
Nobunaga, however, was determined, and he gave no indication that he would even hink twice about the three men's words. On the contrary, he became even more determined. "You may retire. Don't say anything more," he told them. "If you refuse to obey the order, I'll give it to someone else. And if the other generals and soldiers won't follow ne, then I'll do it myself, alone!"
"Why is it necessary to commit such an atrocity? I would think that a true general could bring about the fall of Mount Hiei without shedding a single drop of blood," Nobumori asked again.
"No more 'common sense'! There speaks eight hundred years of 'common sense.' If we don't burn out the roots of the old, the buds of the new will never sprout. You keep talking about this one mountain, but I'm not concerned only with Mount Hiei; burning it down is going to save the church everywhere else. If by slaughtering all the men, women, and children on Mount Hiei, I can open the eyes of the imprudent in other provinces, then I will have done some good. The hottest and deepest hells are nothing to my eyes and ears. Who else can do this but me? I have heaven's mandate to do it."
The three men, who believed that they, more than anyone else, knew Nobunaga's genius and methods, were appalled by this statement. Was their lord possessed by demons?
Takei Sekian pleaded, "No, my lord. No matter what orders you give us, as your retainers we can do nothing but try to dissuade you. You cannot burn a place sacred since ancient times—"
"That's enough! Shut up! In my heart I've received an Imperial decree to burn the place down. I'm giving you the order for this massacre because the mercy of the Founder, Saint Dengyo, is in my heart. Don't you understand?"
"No, my lord."
"If you don't understand, leave! Just don't get in the way."
"I'm going to object until you kill me yourself."
"You're already damned! Get out!"
"Why should I leave? Rather than watch my lord's insanity and the destruction of his clan in my lifetime, I can try to obstruct this with my own death. Look back to the many examples given by antiquity. Not one man who made a hellfire of Buddhist temples and shrines, or who massacred priests, has come to a good end."
"I'm different. I'm not going into battle for my own sake. In this battle, my role will be to destroy ancient evils and build a new world. I don't know whether this is the command of the gods, the people, or the times; all I know is that I'm going to obey the orders I've received. You are all timid, and your view is limited. Your cries are the sorrows of small-minded people. The profit and loss you talk about only concerns me as an individual. If my turning Mount Hiei into an inferno protects countless provinces and saves countless lives, then it will be a great achievement."
Sekian did not desist. "The people are going to see this as the work of demons. They will rejoice if you show a little humanity. Be too severe, and they'll never accept you— even if you are motivated by great love."
“If we hold back because of popular opinion, we won't be able to act at all. The heroes of antiquity feared popular opinion and left this evil to plague future generations. But I’m going to show you how to extirpate it once and for all. If I'm going to do it, I must do it completely. If I don't, there's no point in taking up arms and marching toward the center of the field."
There are intervals even between the raging waves. Nobunaga's voice softened a little. His three retainers hung their heads, their protests almost exhausted.
Hideyoshi had just arrived, having crossed the lake at about noon. The debate was in progress when he approached headquarters, so he had waited outside. Now he stuck his through a split in the curtain and apologized for intruding.
Abruptly they all looked in his direction. Nobunaga's expression was like a raging fire, while the faces of his three generals, who were resolved to die, were frozen, as if covered with a coating of ice.
"I've just arrived by ship," Hideyoshi said genially. "Lake Biwa in the fall is absolutely beautiful; places like Chikubu Island are covered with red leaves. Somehow it didn't feel as though I was heading for the battlefield at all, and I even made up some poor poetry on board. Maybe I'll read it to you after the battle."
Stepping inside, Hideyoshi chattered away about whatever came into his head. Nowhere on his face was there anything like the solemnity that had transfixed lord and retainers just moments ago. He seemed to have no worries at all.
"What's going on?" Hideyoshi asked, looking back and forth at Nobunaga and his retainers, who were sunk in silence. His words were like a clear spring breeze. "Ah. I heard what you were talking about when I was outside just now. Is that why you're silent? Thinking so much of their lord, the retainers have resolved to admonish him and die; knowing the innermost feelings of his retainers, the lord is not so violent that he would cut them down. Yes, I can see there's a problem. You could say there are good and bad points to both sides."
Nobunaga turned his head sharply. "Hideyoshi, you've come at a good time. If you've heard almost everything, you must understand what's in my heart and what these three men are saying as well,"
"I do understand, my lord."
"Would you obey the order? Do you think it is wrong?"
"I don't think anything at al
l. No, wait. This order is based on the recommendation I wrote up and gave to you some time ago, I believe."
"What! When did you make such a proposal?"
"It must have slipped your mind, my lord. I believe it was sometime in spring." Then he turned to the three generals and said, "But listen, it nearly made me weep as I stood out there unseen and heard your loyal admonitions. Yours is the sincerity of true retainers. In a word, however, I think what each one of you is most worried about is that if we do attack Mount Hiei with fire, it is certain that the country will turn against His Lordship."
"That's it exactly! If we commit this atrocity," Sekian said, "both the samurai and the people will feel resentment. Our enemies will take advantage of it to blacken His Lordship's name forever."
"But it was I who recommended that when we attacked Mount Hiei, we should go all the way, so it was not His Lordship's idea. Now, if that's so, I would be the one to bear whatever curse or bad reputation that might be forthcoming."
"How presumptuous!" Nobumori cried out. "Why would the public blame someone like you? Whatever the Oda army does reflects on its commander-in-chief."
"Of course. But won't all of you help me out? Couldn't we proclaim to the world that the four of us were so eager to carry out His Lordship's orders that we went too far? It's said that the greater part of loyalty is delivering one's admonition even if one is forced to die for it. But if it were left to me, I would say that even delivering an admonition and dying is not enough proof of the loyalty of a truly devoted retainer. It's my view that while we are alive, we should answer, in our lord's place, for the bad reputation, abuse, persecution, stumbling, and anything else. Do you agree?"
Nobunaga listened silently, without signaling agreement or disagreement.
TAIKO: AN EPIC NOVEL OF WAR AND GLORY IN FEUDAL JAPAN Page 55