One sorrow
Heaped upon another
Will test my strength to its limits.
This was a poem he had written years before. Now he said it in his heart. He remembered what he had sworn to the mother who had encouraged him when he was young, to his former lord and to heaven, and to the new moon in the empty sky before he went into battle: Give me every obstacle!
Surmounting one after another, he had been able to overcome every obstacle until now. Shikanosuke considered this to be man's greatest pleasure and his own greatest satisfaction.
A hundred obstacles are not in themselves a cause for grief. Advancing through life with this belief, Shikanosuke had tasted great joy in the midst of all his hardships. He had maintained this attitude even when Hideyoshi's messenger told him that Nobunaga had changed strategy. It was true that he had been temporarily discouraged, but he had begrudged no one. Neither had he grieved. Never, not even now, did he sink into despair and think, This is the end. Instead, he burned with hope. I'm still alive, and I'm going to live as long as I continue to breathe! He had one great hope: to get close to his mortal enemy, Kikkawa Motoharu, and die stabbing him to death. After he had snatched away Kikkawa's life, he would rejoice to meet his former lords in the afterworld.
Even though Shikanosuke had surrendered, Kikkawa was not foolish enough to meet him face to face, but politely gave him a castle and sent him on his way. Now Shikanosuke was unhappy, wondering when he might have his chance in the future.
The boat that carried his family and retainers docked on the opposite shore. For a moment his attention was taken by the sight of his family stepping out of the boat in the middle of a large crowd.
Without a sound, a naked blade leaped out from behind Shikanosuke and struck him on the shoulder. At the same time, another blade struck the rock he was sitting on sending sparks flying in all directions. Even a man like Shikanosuke could be taken unawares. Although the blade had cut deep, Shikanosuke jumped up and grabbed the would-be assassin by the topknot.
"Coward!" he shouted.
He had sustained a single sword wound, but his attacker had an accomplice. Seeing his companion in trouble, the second man ran at Shikanosuke, brandishing his sword and yelling, "Prepare yourself to die! It's our lord's command!"
"Bastard!" Shikanosuke spat back in anger. He pushed the first attacker away into his companion, making the second man fall. Seeing his chance, Shikanosuke ran into river, kicking up a huge spray of foam.
"Don't let him escape!" a Mori officer shouted, breaking into a run. He flung his spear with all his might from the bank. It caught Shikanosuke in the back and knocked him face down into the river. The spear shaft stood straight up in the reddening water, like a harpoon stuck in a whale.
The two assassins waded into the river. They dragged the wounded Shikanosuke out by the legs, pinned him down on the riverbank, and cut off his head. Blood ran in rivulets through the small stones on the bank, while the waves of the Abe River almost appeared to be on fire as they rolled back and forth. At the same time, cries and bellowing came from farther up the bank.
"My lord!"
"Lord Shikanosuke!"
Shikanosuke's two attendants began to run toward him, but the Mori had planned for this as well. As soon as they yelled out, they were surrounded by a cage of steel and could go no farther. When they realized that their master had met his end, they fought with all the strength they had, until they followed Shikanosuke into death.
A man's body cannot live forever. An unswerving loyalty and sense of duty, however, will live long in the annals of war. Warriors of later times would say that whenever they looked up and saw the new moon in an indigo-blue evening sky, they would think of Yamanaka Shikanosuke's indomitability and would be struck by feelings of reverence. In their hearts Shikanosuke would live forever.
Shikanosuke's sword and the tea container "Great Ocean" were sent along with his head to Kikkawa Motoharu.
"If we had not struck you down," Kikkawa said as he looked at the head, "you would be holding my head in your hands one day. That is the Way of the Samurai. Having accomplished what you did, you should resign yourself to finding peace in the next world."
* * *
When Hideyoshi's seven thousand five hundred men left Kozuki, it looked as though they would be advancing toward Tajima, but suddenly they turned toward Kakogawa in Harima and joined forces with Nobutada's thirty thousand troops. It was already the end of summer.
Attacked by this large army, both the castles at Kanki and Shikata fell quickly. The only remaining castle was at Miki, the stronghold of the Bessho clan. The battles the Oda fought as they pressed in on Miki Castle seemed to have gone rather easily, but the reaction of fortress after fortress on the first line of Mori defenses had been at the sacrifice of a large number of men. The combined forces of the Oda numbered thirty-eight thousand men, but it was clear that the enemy was going to put up considerable resistance.
One of the reasons this campaign would require time was that, along with advances in weaponry, there had been a revolution in tactics. Generally, the weapons of the western provinces' armies were more advanced than those of the Oda's enemies in Echizen or Kai.
It was the first time the Oda forces had come into contact with such powerful gunpowder and cannon. For Hideyoshi, this was an enemy from whom he could learn many things. Kanbei probably did the buying, but Hideyoshi himself was the first to abandon the old Chinese cannons and equip himself with a cannon made by the Southern Barbarians, which he placed on top of a reconnaissance tower. When the other Oda generals saw this, they too rushed to acquire the latest cannon.
When they heard of the fighting in the western provinces, a large number of arms merchants came up from Hirado and Hakata in Kyushu, dodging the Mori fleet at at the risk of their lives while seeking the ports on the Harima coast. Hideyoshi helped these men by mediating with the other generals, whom he told to purchase the new weapons, regardless of cost.
The power of the new cannons was first tested on Kanki Castle. The Oda built a small hill facing the point of attack, and erected a wooden reconnaissance tower upon it. A large cannon was then placed at the top of the tower and fired at the castle. The castle’s earthen wall and gate were destroyed easily. The real targets, however, were the towers and the inner citadel.
But the enemy also possessed artillery, as well as the newest small arms and gunpowder. The reconnaissance tower was pulverized or burned to the ground a number of times, only to be rebuilt and knocked flat again.
During this hard fighting, Hideyoshi's engineers filled in the moat and pressed in beneath the stone wall, while the sappers excavated tunnels to undermine the walls. This work continued without interruption day and night, never allowing the soldiers in the castle a moment to undo the damage. Such a strategy eventually brought about the fall of the castles. Because victory over the small castles at Shikata and Kanki had required such efforts, it looked as if the attack on the main castle at Miki might be even more difficult.
There was an elevated area called Mount Hirai, about half a league from Miki Castle. Hideyoshi set up his camp there and positioned eight thousand men in the surrounding area.
One day Nobutada visited Mount Hirai, and the two of them went out and observed the enemy's positions. To the south of the enemy were the mountains and hills connected to the mountain ranges of western Harima. To the north ran the Miki River. To the east were bamboo thickets, farmland, and scrub. Finally, a number of strongholds on the neighboring hills encircled the castle walls on three sides. These in turn centered around the main citadel, the second citadel, and yet a third enclosure.
"It makes you wonder if it can be taken quickly, Hideyoshi," said Nobutada, gazing the castle.
"I doubt seriously that it'll be taken easily. It's like a rotten tooth with a deep root.”
"A rotten tooth?" Nobutada unintentionally broke into a smile at Hideyoshi's image. Nobutada had been suffering from toothache for four or five days.
Because of the swelling, his face was a little distorted. Now he held his cheek and couldn't help laughing at Hideyoshi's observation. The parallel of the unassailable Miki Castle and his rotten tooth was both amusing and painful.
'I see. Just like a rotten tooth. To pull it, you need patience."
"It may be only one tooth, but it offends the body in its entirety. Bessho Nagaharu makes our men suffer. It's not enough to say that he's like a rotten tooth. But if we give in to our irritation and try to subjugate the castle thoughtlessly, not only could the gums be damaged but it could be fatal to the patient."
'Well, what shall we do, then? What's your strategy?"
"This tooth's fate is clear. Let's just loosen the root naturally. What if we cut off the supply roads and then shake the tooth from time to time?"
"My father, Nobunaga, told me to withdraw to Gifu if the prospects were not good for a quick attack. You can take care of the delaying tactics and other arrangements; I'm returning to Gifu."
"Set your mind at ease, my lord."
The next day Nobutada withdrew from the battlefield in the company of the other generals. Hideyoshi disposed his eight thousand soldiers around Miki Castle, placing a corps commander at each position and erecting wooden palisades. He posted sentries and cut off all roads leading into the castle. Special emphasis was placed on the observation corps guarding the road to the south of the castle. If one followed the road about four leagues to the west, one would come out on the coast. The Mori navy often sent large convoys of ships to this point, and from here it transported weapons and provisions to the castle.
"The Eighth Month is so refreshing," Hideyoshi said, gazing up at the evening moon. "Ichimatsu! Hey, Ichimatsu!"
The pages came running out of the camp, each of them jockeying to arrive first. Ichimatsu was not among them. While the other pages took stances to outshine one another, Hideyoshi gave them their instructions.
"Prepare a mat at a spot on Mount Hirai with a commanding view. We're going to have a moon-viewing party tonight. Now don't fight among yourselves. This is a party, not a battle."
"Yes, my lord!"
"Toranosuke."
"My lord?"
"Ask Hanbei to join me if he feels well enough for moon viewing."
Two of the pages quickly returned and announced that they had prepared the mat. They had chosen a place near the summit of Mount Hirai, a short climb from the camp.
"A superb view, indeed," Hideyoshi commented. Then he once again turned to the pages and said, "Go ask Kanbei too. It would be a shame if he didn't see this moon." And he sent a page running to Kanbei's tent.
The moon-viewing platform had been set up under a huge pine tree. There was cold sake in a crane-necked flask, and food on a square cypress-wood tray. Although the setting was hardly luxurious, it was quite sufficient for a brief respite during a military campaign—especially with the shining moon overhead. The three men sat on the mat in a line, with Hideyoshi in the center and Hanbei and Kanbei on either side.
It was the same moon that the three men gazed up at, but it evoked completely different thoughts in each of them. Hideyoshi thought about the fields of Nakamura; Hanbei remembered the magical moon over Mount Bodai; and only Kanbei thought about the days ahead.
"Are you cold, Hanbei?" Kanbei asked his friend, and Hideyoshi, perhaps from sudden concern, also turned and looked at Hanbei.
"No, I'm fine." Hanbei shook his head; but just at that moment his face looked paler than the moon.
This talented man has frail health, Hideyoshi sighed without cheer. He worried about Hanbei's health far more than Hanbei himself did.
Once Hanbei had vomited blood while riding at Nagahama, and he had often been ill during the northern campaign. When they had started out this time, Hideyoshi had tried to stop his friend from coming, protesting that he was overstraining himself.
"What are you talking about?" Hanbei had replied lightly, and joined him in the field anyway.
It was reassuring to Hideyoshi to have Hanbei at his side. He was both a visible and an invisible strength—the relationship was one of lord and retainer, but in his heart Hideyoshi looked up to Hanbei as a teacher. Now, especially, he was faced with the difficult task of the western campaign, the war was dragging on, and many of his fellow generals were envious of him. He was approaching the steepest climb of life, and his reliance on Hanbei was all the more critical.
But Hanbei had already fallen ill twice since they had entered the western provinces. Hideyoshi had been so worried that he had ordered Hanbei to see a doctor in Kyoto. Hanbei, however, had quickly returned.
"I've been ill since my birth, so I'm used to infirmity. Medical treatment would be useless in my case. A warrior's life is on the battlefield." With that, he worked at staff headquarters as diligently as before, without the least sign of fatigue. His weak constitution, however, was a grim fact, and there was no way to beat the disease, regardless of how strong his spirit might be.
Heavy rain had poured down on them when the army moved from Tajima. Possibly because of the excesses of that trip, Hanbei had pleaded ill health and did not show his face to Hideyoshi for two days after they set up camp at Mount Hirai. It was normal for Hanbei not to appear before Hideyoshi on days when he was very ill; he very likely did not want to give his lord cause for concern. But because Hanbei had looked fit during the past few days, Hideyoshi had thought they could sit together under the moon and talk as they had not been able to for a long time. But it was not just the light of the moon: as Hideyoshi had feared, there was something not quite right in Hanbei's complexion.
When he sensed Hideyoshi's and Kanbei's concern, Hanbei purposely steered the conversation in another direction.
"Kanbei, according to the news I received yesterday from a retainer in my home province, your son, Shojumaru, is quite healthy and has finally gotten used to his new surroundings."
"Because Shojumaru is in your home province, Hanbei, I have no worries. I hardly ever think about it."
The two of them spoke about Kanbei's son for a little while. Hideyoshi, who still had no children of his own, could not help feeling a little envious as he listened to this talk between fathers. Shojumaru was Kanbei's heir, but when Kanbei had realized what the future held, he had entrusted his son to Nobunaga as a pledge of good faith.
The young hostage had been put into of Hanbei's care, who had sent him to his castle in Fuwa and was raising him as though he were his own son. Thus, with Hideyoshi as the linchpin of their relationship, Kanbei and Hanbei were also bound by ties of friendship. And while they were rivals as generals, there was not the least bit of jealousy between them. The saying that "two great men cannot stand side by side" was hardly applicable in Hideyoshi's field headquarters.
Looking at the moon, drinking sake, and talking about the great men of past and present, and the rise and fall of provinces and clans, it seemed that Hanbei managed to forget his illness.
Kanbei, however, returned to the subject. "Even if a man leads a great army in the morning, he doesn't know whether he'll be alive in the evening. But if you hold some great ambition—no matter how great a man you are—you must live a long time to bring it to fruition. There have been many glorious heroes and loyal retainers who left their names to eternity and whose lives were short, but what if they had lived a long time? It's only natural to feel regret about the shortness of life. The destruction that goes with pushing aside the old and striking at evil is not the only work of a great man. His work is not accomplished until he has rebuilt the nation."
Hideyoshi nodded vigorously. He then said to the silent Hanbei, "That's why we must cherish our lives. I'd like you to take care of your health for those reasons, too, Hanbei."
"I feel the same way," Kanbei added. "Rather than push yourself to excess, why don't you retire to a temple in Kyoto, find a good doctor, and take care of yourself? I suggest this as a friend, and I think you could say that it would be an act of loyalty to give our lord peace of mind."
Hanbei listened, quite overcome by gratitude toward his two friends. "I'll do as you say, and go to Kyoto for a while. But right now we're laying our plans, so I'd like to leave after I see them completed."
Hideyoshi nodded. Thus far he had based his strategy on Hanbei's suggestions, but he still had not seen it succeed. "Are you worried about Akashi Kagechika?" Hideyoshi asked.
"Exactly," Hanbei said, nodding. "If you'll give me five or six days before my convalescent leave, I'll go to Mount Hachiman and meet Akashi Kagechika. I'll try to persuade him to join our side. Do I have your permission?"
"Of course, it would be a great achievement. But what if something happens? You must see that the odds of running into trouble are about eight or nine out of ten. What then?"
"I will only die," Hanbei answered without blinking. From the way he spoke, it was clearly no braggart's bluff.
After Miki Castle fell, Hideyoshi's next enemy would be Akashi Kagechika. But for the time being, Hideyoshi was unable to take Miki Castle. He was not, however, obsessed with the siege. Miki Castle was only one part of the campaign to subdue the whole of the west. So he had little choice but to accept Hanbei's plan to subvert Akashi.
"Will you go, then?" Hideyoshi asked.
"I will."
Hideyoshi was still hesitating, despite Hanbei's spirited resolve. Assuming Hanbei did get past the many dangers on the road and met with Akashi, if the negotiations ended in disagreement, it could not be taken for granted that the enemy would let him return alive. Neither could Hideyoshi be sure that Hanbei would want to return empty-handed. Was Hanbei's true motive to die? Whether he died from disease or was killed by the enemy, he could only die once.
At this point, Kanbei put forward another plan. He had several acquaintances among the retainers of Ukita Naoie. While Hanbei approached the Akashi clan, he himself could go to the senior retainers of the Ukita clan.
When he heard this idea, Hideyoshi intuitively felt reassured. It might be possible to subvert the Ukita clan. Since the invasion of the western provinces had begun, the Ukita had appeared to be somewhat lukewarm, waiting to see which side had the advantage. Ukita Naoie had appealed to the Mori for help, but if he could be persuaded that the future was Nobunaga's…More than that, the Ukita's alliance with the Mori might prove worthless if they received no military support. It could spell the demise of the Ukita clan. The Ukita had learned this after the withdrawal of the Mori army once it had recaptured Kozuki Castle.
TAIKO: AN EPIC NOVEL OF WAR AND GLORY IN FEUDAL JAPAN Page 73