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

by Eiji Yoshikawa

  Leading reinforcements of about twenty thousand men, Nobumori, Takigawa, Niwa, and Mitsuhide left the capital and reached Harima at the beginning of the Fifth Month. Nobunaga later sent his son, Nobutada, to join them.

  In the meantime, having increased his main army with the advance party of reinforcements led by Araki Murashige, Hideyoshi moved the entire force, now east of Kozuki Castle, to Mount Takakura. Reviewing the position of Kozuki Castle from this vantage point, he could see that it would be extremely difficult to establish contact with the men trapped inside.

  Both the main stream and the tributaries of the Ichi River flowed around the mountain upon which the castle stood. Moreover, the castle was closed to both the northwest and southwest by the inaccessible crags of Mount Okami and Mount Taihei. There was simply no way open to approach it.

  There was only a road, and it was blockaded by the Mori. Beyond that, the enemy fortifications and banners appeared at every river, valley, and mountain. A castle with such natural defenses could be held, but the very nature of its position made it extremely difficult for reinforcements to reach it.

  "There's nothing we can do," Hideyoshi lamented. It was as though he were confessing that, as a general, he had not the first idea for a strategy.

  Finally, when night fell, he ordered his men to make bonfires. And to make them big. Soon, huge flames could be seen from Mount Takakura to the neighborhood of Mount Mikazuki, rising over the peaks and valleys. During the day, innumerable banners and flags were hung between the trees on the high ground, which at least showed the enemy that Hideyoshi's army was present and also encouraged the tiny force inside the castle. This went on until the Fifth Month and the arrival of twenty thousand reinforcement under Nobumori, Niwa, Takigawa, and Mitsuhide.

  Everyone's spirits were raised, but the actual results did not justify such elation. The reason was that there were now too many illustrious generals present in one place. With all of them shoulder to shoulder with Hideyoshi, there was not one who wanted to be put into a subordinate position. Niwa and Nobumori were both Hideyoshi's seniors, while Mitsuhide and Takigawa were his equals in terms of popularity and intelligence.

  They themselves engendered an atmosphere of doubt concerning who the commander- in-chief really was. Orders cannot come down even two roads, and now they were being issued by several generals. The enemy was able to sniff out such internal difficulties. The Mori forces were awake enough to see through the inefficiency of the situation. One night the troops of Kobayakawa skirted the rear of Mount Takakura and made a surprise attack on the Oda camp.

  Hideyoshi's men sustained a number of casualties. Next, the troops of Kikkawa moved quickly from the plains to the rear up to the area of Shikama and made a surprise attack on the Oda supply corps, burning its ships and generally doing their best to cause disruption.

  One morning, as Hideyoshi looked in the direction of Kozuki, he saw that the castle's watchtower had been completely destroyed overnight. Inquiring into the matter, he was informed that the Mori army possessed one of the Southern Barbarians' cannons and had probably pulverized the tower by making a direct hit with a huge ball. Impressed by this show of force, Hideyoshi left for the capital.

  * * *

  When Hideyoshi arrived in Kyoto, he went straight to Nijo Palace, his clothes still dusty from the road, his face covered with stubble.

  "Hideyoshi?" Nobunaga had to look twice at Hideyoshi just to make sure it was him. He certainly looked different from the man who had marched off at the head of his troops; his eyes had a hollow look, and a sparse, reddish beard surrounded his mouth like a scrubbing brush.

  "Hideyoshi, why have you come here looking so pressed?"

  "I haven't had a moment to spare, my lord."

  "If that's so, why are you here?"

  "I've come to ask for instructions."

  "What a troublesome general you are! I made you commander-in-chief, didn't I? If you keep asking my opinion about everything, there'll be no time to put your tactics into action. Why are you so reserved on this particular occasion? Can't you act on your own?"

  "Your irritation is entirely reasonable, my lord, but your orders have to come through single channel."

  "When I put the baton of command in your hand, I gave you authority in every situation. If you understand what I want, then your instructions are my instructions. What is there to be confused about?"

  "With all due respect, that's exactly the point I'm having some difficulty with. I don't want to let one single soldier die in vain."

  "What are you trying to say?"

  "If the present situation persists, we cannot win."

  "Why do you say that this is a lost battle?"

  "Unworthy as I am, now that I am in command, I do not intend to lead my men into a pitiful rout. But defeat is inevitable. In terms of fighting spirit, equipment, and geographical advantage, we're hardly a match for the Mori right now."

  "The first thing to remember," Nobunaga countered, "is that if the commander-in-chief anticipates defeat, there's no reason for him to win."

  "But if we miscalculate, thinking that we can win, our defeat might be disastrous. If your troops are stained with one defeat in the west, the enemies who are waiting here and elsewhere, and, of course, the Honganji, will think that the lord of the Oda has stumbled, and that now is the time for his downfall. They'll beat their gongs and scream their incantations, and even the north and east will rise up against you."

  "I'm aware of that."

  "But shouldn't we take into consideration that the invasion of the western provinces, which is so important, might be fatal for the Oda clan?"

  "I have that in mind, of course."

  "Then why didn't you come to the western provinces yourself, after I had made somany requests to you? Time is of the essence. If we miss this opportunity, we'll have no chance in the real battle. It's almost foolish to mention this, but I know you are the first general ever to perceive this opportunity, and I do not understand why you did nothing when I sent request after request to you. Even though I've tried to draw the enemy out, they're not so easily provoked. Now the Mori have raised a huge army and attacked Kozuki, using Miki Castle as a base. Is this not a heaven-sent opportunity? I would be happy to be a decoy to lure them out further. Then couldn't you, my lord, come in person, and finish this game with a single stroke?"

  Nobunaga was lost in thought. Because he was not the kind of man to be indecisive at a time like this, Hideyoshi understood that Nobunaga did not mean to granlt his request.

  Finally Nobunaga said, "No, this is no time to move rashly. First I need to ascertain exactly the Mori clan's strength." This time it was Hideyoshi who looked lost in thought. Nobunaga went on as if he were rebuking him, "Haven't you become a little overawed at the Mori's strength, expecting defeat even before you've put up a reasonable fight?"

  "I don't account it as loyalty to you, my lord, to fight a battle that I know will end in defeat."

  "Are the forces of the western provinces that strong? Is their morale that high?"

  "It is. They're protecting the borders they've held since the time of Motonari, and are taking pains to strengthen the interior of their domain. Their wealth cannot be compared even with the Uesugi of Echigo or the Takeda of Kai."

  "It's foolish to think that a wealthy province is always a strong one."

  "Strength depends on the quality of wealth. If the Mori were extravagant and arrogant, they wouldn't be worth worrying about, and in fact their very wealth might be taken advantage of. But the two generals, Kikkawa and Kobayakawa, are of great aid to Terumoto, and they maintain the traditions of their former lord; their commanders and soldiers act virtuously, following the Way of the Samurai. The few soldiers we take alice are of an awe-inspiring mettle and burn with hostility. When I see all this, I can't help lamenting that this invasion is going to be so diff—"

  "Hideyoshi, Hideyoshi," Nobunaga interrupted with a look of displeasure. "What about Miki Castle? Nobutada is headed ther
e."

  "I doubt that it will fall easily, even with your son's abilities."

  "What kind of commander is Bessho Nagaharu, the governor of the castle?"

  "He is a man of character."

  "You're only praising the enemy, you know."

  "The first rule of the military man is to know his enemy. I suppose it's not a good thing to praise both their commanders and their soldiers, but I've spoken frankly because I feel it's my duty to give you a correct evaluation."

  "I suppose that's right." Nobunaga finally seemed to recognize the strength of the enemy, although he did so reluctantly. Nevertheless, the determination to win was festering somewhere within him, and presently he said, "I suppose that's so, but it's another thing for our troops not to be spirited, Hideyoshi."

  "Absolutely!"

  "The role of commander-in-chief is not an easy one. Takigawa, Nobumori, Niwa, and Miitsuhide are all senior generals. It's not that they don't follow your instructions, is it?"

  "You have excellent insight, my lord." Hideyoshi hung his head, his battle-weary face turning red. "Perhaps it was too much of a responsibility for their junior, Hideyoshi."

  Certainly he could see through the subtle machinations of the senior retainers, and how they had prevented Nobunaga from riding into battle himself. Even if the large army of the Mori was nothing to be worried about, he had to caution himself to be wary of the danger from his own allies.

  "This is what you must do, Hideyoshi. Abandon the castle at Kozuki temporarily. Join Nobutada's forces, proceed to Miki Castle, and bring down Bessho Nagaharu. Then watch what the enemy does for a while."

  The primary cause of the troops' depression was the fact that the army had been split in two, one half to attack Miki Castle and the other to relieve Kozuki. This was the result of differing opinions in the Oda military conferences up to now. And the reason for the split was clear. The small Amako force, entrenched in Kozuki Castle, was depending on the Oda clan. To abandon them for a quick strategic gain would make other western clans feel uneasy and lead them to wonder what kind of man Nobunaga was. Certainly the Oda could gain the reputation of being unreliable allies.

  The man who had placed Amako Katsuhisa and Shikanosuke's troops in Kozuki Castle was Hideyoshi, and now misery, friendship, and an almost unbearable sympathy filled his heart. He knew that he was going to watch them die. Nevertheless, as soon as he received Nobunaga's new orders, he responded with an immediate "Yes, my lord," and withdrew.

  Repressing his own feelings, he returned to the western provinces, deep in thought all the way. Avoid the difficult battle, and be victorious over that which is easy—this is the natural law of military strategy, he said to himself. It seems that taking this measure has little to do with good faith, but we have been fighting for a greater objective from the very beginning. So I'm going to have to bear the unbearable.

  When Hideyoshi returned to his base on Mount Takakura, he called the other generals and informed them of Nobunaga's decision exactly as it had been told to him. Then he immediately gave the order to strike camp and join Nobutada's army. With Niwa and Takigawa's forces left behind as a rear guard, Hideyoshi's and Araki Murashige's main army began the retreat.

  "Has Shigenori returned yet?" Hideyoshi asked a number of times before leaving Mount Takakura.

  Takenaka Hanbei, who knew exactly what was on Hideyoshi's mind, looked back toward Kozuki Castle as though he were reluctant to leave.

  "He's not back yet?" Hideyoshi asked again.

  Shigenori was one of Hideyoshi's retainers. Two nights before, he had received Hideyoshi's instructions to go alone to Kozuki Castle as a messenger. Now Hideyoshi was anxious and kept wondering to himself if his messenger had been able to slip through the enemy lines. What would Shikanosuke do? Hideyoshi's message, carried by Shigenori, was to inform the men in the castle of the changing direction of the battle.

  Can you be determined to seek life in the midst of death, and strike out from the castle and join our forces? We will wait for you until tomorrow.

  Tomorrow had come, and they watched in anticipation, but the soldiers inside the castle did not move, nor did the Mori army surrounding the castle make the slightest change. Giving them up for lost, Hideyoshi and his men left Mount Takakura.

  The men in Kozuki Castle were sunk in a pit of despair. To defend the castle was death; to leave the castle was death. Even the indomitable Shikanosuke was in a daze. He had no idea what to do.

  "No one is at fault," Shikanosuke had told Shigenori. "We can only hold a grudge against heaven."

  After discussing the matter with Amako Katsuhisa and the other retainers, Shikanosuke gave Shigenori his answer: "In spite of Lord Hideyoshi's kind offer, it is inconceivable that this small, tired force could break out and join him. We must somehow search for another plan."

  When he had sent back the messenger, Shikanosuke secretly wrote a note addressed to the commander of the attacking forces, Mori Terumoto. It was a letter of surrender. He also made separate requests for intervention to Kikkawa and Kobayakawa. These were, course, to spare the life of his lord, Katsuhisa, and to plead for the lives of the seven hundred troops in the castle. But neither Kikkawa nor Kobayakawa would listen to Shikanosuke's repeated pleas. There was only one way they would be satisfied. "Open the castle," they said, "and present us with Katsuhisa's head."

  It was an extravagance to look for mercy when forced to capitulate. Swallowing tears of grief, Shikanosuke prostrated himself before Katsuhisa. "There is nothing more that your retainer can do. How pitiful that you have had the misfortune of having a worthless retainer like myself. It is inevitable, my lord, you must prepare yourself to die."

  "No, Shikanosuke," Katsuhisa said, and turned away. "That the situation has come this pass is not because my men have poor abilities. But we cannot hold a grudge against Lord Nobunaga either. Rather, it is a great, great joy to me to have earned my retainers’ devotion and to have served as the leader of a samurai clan. It was you who gave me the will to restore the name of our clan, and presented the opportunity to harass our sworn enemies. What regrets have I, even if we are defeated now? I think I have done everything I could do as a man. I can rest in peace now."

  At dawn on the third day of the Seventh Month, Katsuhisa committed seppuku in manly fashion. The grudge between the Mori and Amako clans had lasted for a full fifty-six years.

  But the greatest surprise was yet to come. Yamanaka Shikanosuke, the man who had fought on against the Mori despite the worst hardships and pains, and who had just asked his lord to commit seppuku, chose not to follow him in death. Instead he surrendered and went to Kikkawa Motoharu's camp like a common foot soldier, ignominiously becoming a prisoner of war.

  The human heart is unfathomable. Shikanosuke was criticized by both his enemies and his allies, who said of him that no matter how he cloaked himself in loyalty, when it got to the point of no return, he couldn't help showing his true colors.

  But these same critics would hear something even more unexpected several days later, news that would leave them disgusted and incredulous. Yamanaka Shikanosuke had become a retainer of the Mori and had been given a castle in Suo in exchange for his future loyalty.

  "What a shallow dog!"

  "This man is unfit to associate with samurai!"

  The name of Yamanaka Shikanosuke was soon worth nothing but contempt. For twenty years he had been considered—by both enemy and ally alike—a warrior of undying devotion and loyalty who had remained unbending through many difficulties. But now people felt ashamed that they had been taken in so badly. Their hatred was in direct proportion to Shikanosuke's earlier fame.

  In the hottest part of the Seventh Month, Shikanosuke—who appeared to be giving no ear at all to the taunts of the world—his family and his retainers were led to his new estate in Suo. They were escorted by several hundred Mori troops who were acting officially as guides but who were really nothing more than guards. Shikanosuke was like a captured tiger that could still turn vio
lent at any time. Before he was caged and accustomed to being fed, his new allies did not feel truly comfortable with him. After a few days' march they came to the Abe River ferry at the foot of Mount Matsu.

  Shikanosuke dismounted and sat down on a large rock facing the riverbank.

  Amano Kii of the Mori clan dismounted and approached him. He said, "The women and children are poor walkers, so we'll let them cross the river first. Rest here for a little while."

  Shikanosuke simply nodded. He had recently become quite reticent, not wanting to waste his words. Kii walked toward the ferry and yelled something to the men on the riverbank. There were only one or two boats. Shikanosuke's wife, son, and retainers piled into them one after another until the boats appeared to be filled with little mountains, and set off for the opposite shore.

  Watching the boat, Shikanosuke wiped the sweat from his face and asked his attendant to dip a cloth into the icy water of the river. His only other attendant had led his horse downstream to drink.

  Green-winged insects buzzed around Shikanosuke. A pale moon floated in the late afternoon sky. Flowering bindweed crept along the ground.

  "Shinza! Hikoemon! Now's your chance!" Kii's eldest son, Motoaki, whispered to two men standing in the shade of a stand of trees where about ten horses were tethered. Shikanosuke did not notice them. The boat carrying his family was almost halfway across the river.

  The river wind filled his breast, and the entire scene dazzled his tear-filled eyes. How pitiful, he lamented. As a husband and father, he was heartbroken to think of the fate of his vagabond family.

  Even the bravest warrior has feelings, and it was said that Shikanosuke was more sentimental than most men. His courage and chivalrous spirit burned in his eyes with more intensity than the hot summer sun. He had been abandoned by Nobunaga; he had severed his ties with Hideyoshi; he had delivered Kozuki Castle; and then he had presented the head of his lord to his enemies.

  And now he was still here, obstinately clinging to life. What were his hopes? What honor did he still have? The world's insults sounded like the chirping of the grasshoppers that surrounded him now. But as he listened while the cool breeze played on his breast, he did not care.