TAIKO: AN EPIC NOVEL OF WAR AND GLORY IN FEUDAL JAPAN

by Eiji Yoshikawa

  "Oh, just that His Lordship is leaving tomorrow," Mitsuhide said with a grin.

  “That's right. Where do you suppose we'll meet again?"

  "Are you drunk?"

  "There's not a day I don't get drunk while I'm in the capital. His Lordship drinks more when he's here, too. In fact, if you went to see him now he'd make you drink quite bit of sake ."

  “Is he having another drinking party?" Mitsuhide asked.

  Certainly Nobunaga had been drinking more recently, and an old retainer, who had served Nobunaga for many years, had remarked that Nobunaga had never drunk to the extent that he did now.

  Hideyoshi always took part in these revelries, but he did not have Nobunaga's resistance.

  Nobunaga seemed to have the more delicate constitution, but he was by far the stronger of the two men. If you looked carefully, you could see his spiritual strength. Hideyoshi was just the opposite. Outwardly he seemed a healthy countryman, but he did not have real stamina.

  His mother still lectured him about neglecting his health: "It's fine to have a good time, but please take care of your health. You were sickly from the time you were born, and until you were four or five years old, none of the neighbors thought you would live to be an adult."

  Her concern had an effect on Hideyoshi, because he knew the reason for his weakness as a youth. When his mother had been pregnant with him, their poverty had been such that they had sometimes had no food on the table, and this state of adversity had surely affected his growth in the womb.

  The fact that he had been able to survive was due almost solely to his mother's devotion. Thus, while he certainly did not dislike sake, he would recall his mother's words every time he held a cup in his hands. And he could hardly forget the times when his mother had cried so much because of her drunkard husband.

  No one, however, would have thought he took drinking so seriously. People said of him, "He doesn't drink much, but he sure loves drinking parties. And when he does drink, he drinks freely." In fact, there was no one more prudent than Hideyoshi. And speaking of drinking, it was Mitsuhide, whom he now met in the corridor, who had just been doing a good bit of it himself. Nevertheless, Mitsuhide looked disappointed, and it was clear that Nobunaga's drinking—just now confirmed by Hideyoshi—was troubling his retainers a great deal.

  Hideyoshi laughed and denied what he had just said. "No, that was a joke." Amused at Mitsuhide's wavering there so seriously, he shook his red face. "The truth is, I was just having fun with you a little. The drinking party is over, and the proof is that here I am, leaving intoxicated. And that's a lie too," he laughed.

  "Ah, you're a bad man." Mitsuhide forced a smile. He tolerated Hideyoshi's teasing, for he did not dislike him. Neither did Hideyoshi hold any ill feelings toward Mitsuhide. He always joked freely with his sober-minded colleague, but at the same time he respected him when respect was required.

  For his part, Mitsuhide seemed to acknowledge that Hideyoshi was a useful man. Hideyoshi was just a bit ahead of Mitsuhide in seniority and was above him in the seating at field staff headquarters, but like the other veteran generals, Mitsuhide was proud of his own family status, bloodline, and education. Certainly he did not take Hideyoshi lightly, but he somehow manifested a condescending attitude toward his senior with such comments as, "You're a likable man."

  This condescension was due, of course, to Mitsuhide's character. But even when Hideyoshi felt that he was being condescended to, he didn't feel unhappy. On the contrary, he considered it natural to be looked down upon by a man of superior intellect such as Mitsuhide. He was comfortable acknowledging of Mitsuhide's great superiority in terms of intellect, education, and background.

  "Ah, that's right. I forgot something," Hideyoshi said, as if he had suddenly remembered. "I should congratulate you. Being awarded the province of Tamba should make you happy for a while. But I think it's natural after so many years of devoted service. I pray that this marks the beginning of better fortune for you, and that you prosper for many years to come."

  "No, all of His Lordship's favors are honors beyond my station." Mitsuhide always returned courtesy for courtesy with great seriousness. But then he continued. "Even though I've been granted a province, it used to be held by the former shogun, and even now there are a good number of powerful local clans who have shut themselves in be­hind their walls and are refusing to submit to my authority. So congratulations are a lit­tle premature."

  "No, no, you're too modest," Hideyoshi protested. "As soon as you moved into Tamba with Hosokawa Fujitaka and his son, the Kameyama clan capitulated, so you've already had results, haven't you? I observed with interest the way you took Kameyama, and even His Lordship praised you for the skill with which you subjugated the enemy and took the castle without losing a single man."

  "Kameyama was just the beginning. The real difficulties are yet to come."

  "Life is worth living only when we have difficulties in front of us. Otherwise there's no incentive. And nothing could be sweeter than having restored peace to a new domain given to you by His Lordship and governing it well. Why, you'll be master there yourself and able to do anything you like," Hideyoshi said.

  Suddenly both men felt that this chance meeting had lasted much too long.

  "Well, until we meet again," Mitsuhide said.

  "Wait just a minute," Hideyoshi said, and suddenly changed the subject. "You're a learned man, so perhaps you'll know this. Among the castles in Japan right now, how many have donjons, and in which provinces are they?"

  "The castle of Satomi Yoshihiro, at Tateyama in the province of Awa, has a three-story donjon that can be seen from the sea. Also, at Yamaguchi in the province of Suo, Ouchi Yoshioki built a four-story donjon at his main castle. It is probably the most imposing in all of Japan."

  "Only those two?"

  "As far as I know. But why are you asking about this now?"

  "Well, today I was with His Lordship, talking about various castle designs, and Master Mori was eagerly explaining the advantages of donjons. He strongly advocated including one in the design of the castle that Lord Nobunaga will be building at Azuchi."

  "Huh? Which Master Mori?"

  "His Lordship's page, Ranmaru."

  Mitsuhide's brow furrowed for a moment. "Are you a bit doubtful about this?"

  "Not especially."

  Mitsuhide's face quickly returned to a nonchalant expression, and he changed the subject and chatted for a few minutes. He finally excused himself and hurried off toward the interior of the palace.

  "Lord Hideyoshi! Lord Hideyoshi!"

  The great corridor of the Nijo Palace was busy with people coming and going to visit Lord Nobunaga. Again, someone called.

  “Well, Reverend Asayama," Hideyoshi said as he turned around with a smile.

  Asayama Nichijo was an uncommonly ugly man. Araki Murashige, one of Nobunaga's generals, was noted for his ugliness, but at least he had a certain charm. Asayama, on the other hand, was only an oily-looking priest. He approached Hideyoshi and quickly lowered his voice as though he were privy to some important matter.

  "Lord Hideyoshi?"

  "Yes, what is it?"

  "You seemed to be having a confidential discussion with Lord Mitsuhide just now."

  "Confidential discussion?" Hideyoshi laughed. "Is this the place for a confidential discussion?"

  "When Lord Hideyoshi and Lord Mitsuhide whisper for a long time in the corridors of Nijo Palace, people are going to be startled."

  "Surely not."

  "No, absolutely!"

  "Is Your Reverence a little drunk too?"

  "Quite a bit. I drank too much. But really, you should be more careful."

  "You mean with sake?"

  "Don't be a fool. I'm cautioning you to be more discreet about being on familiar terms with Mitsuhide."

  "Why?"

  "He's a little too intelligent."

  "Why, everybody says that you're the most intelligent man in Japan today."

  "Me? No, I'm
much too slow," the priest demurred.

  "By no means," Hideyoshi assured him. "Your Reverence is quite knowledgeable in just about everything. The samurai's weakest points are in his dealings with the nobility or with powerful merchants, but no one surpasses you in shrewdness among the men of the Oda clan. Why, even Lord Katsuie is quite awestruck by your talents."

  "But on the other hand, I've achieved no military exploits at all."

  "In the construction of the Imperial Palace, in the administration of the capital, in various financial affairs, you have shown an uncanny genius."

  "Are you praising or disparaging me?"

  "Well now, you are both a prodigy and a good-for-nothing in the samurai class, and speaking honestly, I will both praise you and disparage you."

  "I'm no match for you." Asayama laughed aloud, showing the gaps where he had lost two or three of his teeth. Though Asayama was much older than Hideyoshi—old enough to be his father—he thought of Hideyoshi as his senior.

  Asayama could not accept Mitsuhide so easily. He recognized that Mitsuhide was intelligent, but he was unnerved by Mitsuhide's dry wit.

  "I was thinking that it was just my own imagination," Asayama said, "but recently a person famous for discerning men's personalities from their features has expressed the same opinion."

  "A physiognomist has made some sort of judgment about Mitsuhide?"

  "He's not a physiognomist. Abbot Ekei is one of the most profound scholars of the age. He told me this in the utmost secrecy."

  "Told you what?"

  "That Mitsuhide has the look of a wise man who could drown in his own wisdom. Moreover, there are evil signs that he will supplant his own lord."

  "Asayama."

  "What?"

  "You're not going to enjoy your old age if you let things like that out of your mouth,” Hideyoshi said sharply. "I've heard that Your Reverence is a shrewd politician, but I suspect that a political hobby should not be pushed as far as spreading such talk about one of His Lordship's retainers."

  * * *

  The pages had spread out a large map of Omi in the wide room.

  "Here's the inner section of Lake Biwa!" one said.

  "There's the Sojitsu Temple! And the Joraku Temple!" another exclaimed.

  The pages sat together on one side and craned their necks to look, just like baby swallows. Ranmaru separated himself from the group and sat modestly on his own. He was not yet twenty, but he had long passed the age of a man's coming-of-age ceremony. If his forelock had been shaved, he would have had the appearance of a fine young samurai

  "You just stay the way you are," Nobunaga had said. "I want you as a page, no matter how old you get."

  Ranmaru could compete with other boys in terms of grace, and his topknot and silk garments were those of a child.

  Nobunaga studied the map carefully. "It's well drawn." he said. "It's even more accurate than our military maps. Ranmaru, How did you come up with such a detailed map in such a short time?"

  "My mother, who is now in holy orders, knew that there was a map in the secret storehouse of a certain temple."

  Ranmaru's mother, who had taken the name Myoko when she had become a nun, was the widow of Mori Yoshinari. Her five sons had been taken in by Nobunaga as retainers. Ranmaru's two younger brothers, Bomaru and Rikimaru, were also pages. Everyone said that there was very little similarity among them. It wasn't that his brothers were dull children, but that Ranmaru was outstanding. And this was not just in the eyes of Nobunaga, whose affection for him was unending. It was obvious to anyone who saw him that Ranmaru's intelligence stood far above that of the others. When he frequented the generals of the field staff or the senior retainers, he was never treated like a child, regardless of his clothes.

  "What? You got this from Myoko?" Nobunaga suddenly fixed an unusual stare on Ranmaru. "She's a nun, so it's natural that she should be going back and forth to a number of the temples, but she shouldn't be deceived by the spies of the warrior-monks who are still chanting curses against me. Perhaps you should look for the right time and then give her a warning."

  “She's always been very careful. Even more so than I, my lord."

  Nobunaga stooped down and studied the map of Azuchi intently. It was here that he would build a castle as his new residence and seat of government.

  This was something of which Nobunaga had spoken only just recently, a decision he had made because the location of Gifu Castle no longer suited his purposes. The land that Nobunaga had really wanted was in Osaka. But on it stood the Honganji, the stronghold of his bitter enemies, the warrior-monks.

  After studying the foolishness of the shoguns, Nobunaga did not even consider setting up a government in Kyoto. That had been the old state of affairs. Azuchi was closer to his ideal: from there he could guard against the provinces to the west as well as check the advances of Uesugi Kenshin from the north.

  “Lord Mitsuhide is in the waiting room, and says he would like to speak with you before his departure," a samurai announced from the door.

  'Mitsuhide?" Nobunaga said good-humoredly. "Show him in." And he continued studying the map of Azuchi.

  Mitsuhide came in with a sigh of relief. There was no smell of sake in the place, after all, and his first thought was, Hideyoshi got me again.

  “Mitsuhide, come over here."

  Nobunaga ignored the man's courteous bow and beckoned him over to the map. Mitsuhide edged forward respectfully.

  "I hear that you've been thinking of nothing but plans for a new castle, my lord," he said affably.

  Nobunaga may have been a dreamer, but he was a dreamer who was second to none in executive ability.

  "What do you think? Isn't this mountainous region facing the lake just right for a castle?"

  Nobunaga, it seemed, had already designed the structure and scale of the castle in his head. He drew a line with his finger. "It's going to stretch from here to here. We'll build a town around the castle at the bottom of the mountain, with a quarter for the merchants that will be better organized than in any other province in Japan," he said. "I'm going to devote all the resources I have to this castle. I've got to have something here imposing enough to overawe all the other lords. It won't be extravagant, but it's going to be a castle that will have no equal in the Empire. My castle will combine beauty, function, and dignity."

  Mitsuhide recognized that this project was not a product of Nobunaga's vanity nor some high-flown amusement, so he expressed his feelings honestly. His overly serious answer, however, did not suffice; Nobunaga was too accustomed to showy responses in total agreement with him and to witty statements that only echoed his own.

  "What do you think? No good?" Nobunaga asked uncertainly.

  "I wouldn't say that at all."

  "Do you think this is the right time?"

  "I'd say this is very timely."

  Nobunaga was trying to bolster his self-confidence. There was no one who regarded Misuhide's intelligence more highly than he did. Not only did Mitsuhide have a modern intelligence, but he had also faced political problems too difficult to surmount on conviction alone. Thus, Nobunaga was even more aware of Mitsuhide's genius than was Hideyoshi, who praised him so highly.

  "I've heard that you're quite conversant with the science of castle construction. Could you take care of this responsibility?"

  "No, no. My knowledge is not sufficient to build a castle."

  "Not sufficient?"

  "Building a castle is like fighting a great battle. The man in charge must be able to use both men and materials with ease. You should really assign this duty to one of your vet­eran generals."

  "And who would that be?" Nobunaga asked.

  "Lord Niwa would be most suitable because he gets along so well with others."

  "Niwa? Yes… he'd be good." This opinion seemed to agree with Nobunaga's own intentions, and he nodded vigorously. "By the way, Ranmaru has suggested that I build a donjon. What do you think of the idea?"

  Mitsuhide did not answer.
He could see Ranmaru out of the corner of his eye. "Are you asking me about the pros and cons of building a donjon, my lord?" he asked.

  "That's right. Is it better to have one or not to have one?"

  "It's better to have one, of course. Even if only from the standpoint of the dignity of the structure."

  "There must be various styles of donjon. I've heard that when you were young, you traveled through the country extensively and acquired a detailed knowledge of castle construction."

  "My knowledge of such things is really very shallow," Mitsuhide said humbly. "On the other hand, Ranmaru over there should be quite well versed in the subject. When I toured the country, I only saw two or three castles with donjons, and even those were of extremely crude construction. If this is Ranmaru's suggestion, he certainly must have some thoughts on the subject." Mitsuhide seemed to be hesitant to speak further.

  Nobunaga, however, did not even consider the delicate sensitivities of the two men, and went on artlessly, "Ranmaru, you're no less a scholar than Mitsuhide, and you've done some research in castle construction, it seems. What are your thoughts on the build­ing of a donjon? Well, Ranmaru?" After an embarrassed silence from the page, he asked, "Why don't you answer?"

  "I'm too confused, my lord."

  "Why is that?"

  "I'm embarrassed," he said and prostrated himself with his face over both hands as though he had been deeply shamed. "Lord Mitsuhide is unkind. Why should I have any original ideas about donjon construction? To tell the truth, my lord, everything you heard from me—even the fact that the castles of the Ouchi and Satomi both have donjons— was told me by Lord Mitsuhide one night on guard duty."

  "Well then, it wasn't your idea after all."

  "I thought you would be annoyed if I confessed that every bit of it was someone else's idea, so I just rambled on and suggested building a donjon."

  "Is that so?" Nobunaga laughed. "That's all there is to it?"

  "But Lord Mitsuhide didn't take it that way," Ranmaru went on. "His answer just now made it sound as if I had stolen someone else's ideas. Lord Mitsuhide himself told me that he had some valuable illustrations of the Ouchi and Satomi donjons and even a rare sketchbook. So why should he be so reserved and shift the onus to an inexperienced person like me?"