The turnip had been drawn in India ink without even a trace of effort; and if you looked at it closely, you could smell the fragrance of the earth. This turnip served as the root for a single leaf, and it seemed to be bursting with life. Its wild nature appeared to be laughing at Mitsuhide's rationalism with a marvelous artlessness and lack of concern.
He continued unfolding the scroll, but there was nothing else. The greater part of it was nothing but blank paper.
"It looks like it took him all night to do these two illustrations."
Toshimitsu was also impressed by the scroll, and bent over it in appreciation with Mitsuhide.
Mitsuhide was hesitant to look at it any longer, and asked Toshimitsu to roll it up.
At that point, the sound of the conch shell was heard in the distant sky. It was a call from the headquarters at the Hoyo Temple, signaling the troops throughout the town to get ready. Heard in the arena of the bloody war, the conch shell was a thing of indescribable dread, booming out sorrowful reverberations. But heard on a morning like this its sound was mild and almost quietly comforting.
Mitsuhide was soon on horseback himself. His brow this morning, much like the mountains of Kai, was completely unclouded and without even a hint of shade.
7 TENTH YEAR OF TENSHO 1582 SPRING
Characters and Places
Shimizu Muneharu, commander
of Takamatsu Castle
Akechi Mitsuharu, Mitsuhide's cousin
Akechi Mitsutada, Mitsuhide's cousin
Fujita Dengo, senior Akechi retainer
Amano Genemon, senior Akechi retainer
Yomoda Masataka, senior Akechi retainer
Manase, Kyoto physician
Shoha and Shositsu, poets
Oda Nobutada, Nobunaga's eldest son
Sotan and Soshitsu, merchants from Kyushu
Murai Nagato, governor of Kyoto
Takamatsu, Shimizu Muneharu's castle
Sakamoto, Akechi Mitsuharu's castle
Tamba, province of the Akechi clan
Kameyama, Akechi Mitsuhide's castle
Honno Temple, Nobunaga's
temporary residence in Kyoto
Myokaku Temple, Nobutada's
temporary residence in Kyoto
Fortress in a Lake
Two samurai galloped through the wicket gates of Okayama, their horses raising a cloud of dust as they hurried toward the castle. No one paid much attention to the riders. When they reached the gates, they announced that they carried an urgent dispatch from Lord Nobunaga in Kai.
Hideyoshi was in the citadel when a retainer came in to announce the arrival of the messengers.
"Have them wait in the Heron Room," he ordered.
This room was reserved for conversations of the most secret nature. Almost as soon as the two messengers had entered, Hideyoshi came in and sat down. One of the men took the letter from the folds of his kimono and laid it respectfully in front of Hideyoshi. It was wrapped in two or three sheets of oiled paper. Hideyoshi removed the outer wrapping and cut through the envelope.
"Ah, it's been a long time since I've looked at His Lordship's handwriting," he said. Before opening the letter, he held it reverently to his forehead: it was, after all, written by his lord's own hand.
When he finished reading, Hideyoshi placed the letter into his kimono and asked, "Did our troops in Kai achieve brilliant victories?"
"His Lordship's army was an irresistible force. About the time we left Kai, Lord Nobutada's army had already reached Suwa."
"That's just what you'd expect of Lord Nobunaga. He must have gone out into battle himself. Was he in good spirits?"
"I heard from one of the men on the campaign that going through the mountains was just like a spring flower-viewing outing. It seems that Lord Nobunaga will return by the coast road and view Mount Fuji on the way."
The messengers withdrew. Hideyoshi remained where he was, gazing at the painting of the white herons on the sliding doors. Yellow pigment had been applied to the eyes of the birds, and they looked as if they were staring back at him.
It will have to be Kanbei, Hideyoshi said to himself. He's the only one I can send. He summoned a page and said, "Kuroda Kanbei should be in the outer citadel. Have him and Hachisuka Hikoemon come here."
Hideyoshi took the letter out and read it once more. It was not really a letter, but the pledge he had requested from Nobunaga. Hideyoshi could have easily mobilized sixty thousand soldiers right here in Okayama. However, he had not crossed the border into the enemy province of Bitchu, which he had to conquer first if he was to defeat the Mori clan. There remained one obstacle in Hideyoshi's path into Bitchu that he was determined to remove—bloodlessly, if he could. This obstacle was the main castle of the seven fortresses that formed the enemy line of defense on the borders of the province: Takamatsu Castle.
Kanbei and Hikoemon came into the small room, and Hideyoshi immediately felt more at ease.
"His Lordship's pledge has just arrived," Hideyoshi began. "I'm afraid I'm going to ask you to go through more hardships. I'd like you to go to Takamatsu Castle."
"Would you mind if I read the pledge?" Kanbei asked.
Kanbei read it with the same respect he would have shown had he been addressing Nobunaga in person.
The pledge was addressed to the commander of Takamatsu Castle, Shimizu Muneharu. Nobunaga promised that if Muneharu capitulated, he would be rewarded with a domain consisting of the provinces of Bitchu and Bingo. He had taken an oath before the gods, Nobunaga continued, and nothing could induce him to go back on his word.
"I'd like you and Hikoemon to go to Takamatsu Castle as soon as possible," he told Kanbei. "I doubt there will be any problems when you meet General Muneharu and talk to him, but if there are, I don't imagine he'll remain unmoved after he sees this seal."
Hideyoshi looked optimistic, but the two other men were unable to share his confidence. Did he really believe that Shimizu Muneharu would betray his masters, the Mori, just because of this pledge, or did Hideyoshi have something else in mind?
The journey from Okayama to Takamatsu Castle took less than a day, and the messengers arrived all the quicker because they were on horseback. Passing through their own front lines, they looked up in the direction of the Kibi Mountains at the red setting sun.
From this point on, whoever they encountered would be the enemy. This was not the spring they had left behind in Okayama. The fields and villages were deserted.
A rider galloped from the front line to the palisade around Takamatsu Castle and waited for instructions. Finally, Kanbei and Hikoemon were ushered in through the palisade and led to the castle gate. Takamatsu was a typical example of a castle built on a plain. There were rice paddies and fields on either side of the road leading up to the main gate. The embankments and the outer stone walls stood in the middle of paddies. With each step up the stone stairs, the battlements and sharp, pointed walls of the main citadel loomed ever closer overhead.
Once inside the main citadel, it was clear to the envoys that this was the strongest of the seven fortresses on the border. The area inside the castle was broad, and although more than two thousand soldiers were stationed here, it was quiet. Because of Muneharu's decision to fight, the castle was accommodating an additional three thousand civilian refugees. Muneharu had decided to make his stand against the billowing waves of the eastern army in this one castle.
Kanbei and Hikoemon were shown into an empty room.Without his staff Kanbei limped inside with difficulty.
"Lord Muneharu will be here momentarily," the page said. He seemed to be less than twenty years old, and as he withdrew, his behavior was no different from what it would have been in peacetime.
The general came in, sat down unpretentiously, and said, "I am Shimizu Muneharu. I understand that you are envoys from Lord Hideyoshi. Welcome." He seemed to be about fifty, unassuming and plainly dressed. He had no retainers on either side of him, only a page of eleven or twelve kneeling behind him. The man wa
s so lacking in ostentation that if it hadn't been for his sword and the one page, he would have looked like a village headman.
Kanbei, for his part, was extremely courteous with this unassuming general. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I am Kuroda Kanbei."
As the two men introduced themselves, Muneharu bowed affably. The envoys rejoiced, thinking that they would have no trouble in winning him over.
"Hikoemon," Kanbei said, "would you please tell General Muneharu the purport of His Lordship's message?" Although it would have been more proper for the senior of the two envoys to make the opening remarks, Kanbei thought that the older and mellower Hikoemon would more efficaciously present the merits of their case.
"Allow me to explain our mission, General. Lord Hideyoshi has ordered us to talk to you frankly, and I can do nothing less than that. Lord Hideyoshi would like to avoid a pointless battle if it is at all possible. I think you fully understand how things are going in the west. In terms of numbers, we can easily raise one hundred fifty thousand men, while the Mori have only forty-five thousand men, perhaps fifty at the very most. In addition, the Mori's allies—the Uesugi of Echigo, the Takeda of Kai, the warrior-monks of Mount Hiei and the Honganji, and the shogun—have all crumbled. What kind of moral justice can the Mori claim today by fighting and turning the west into scorched earth?
"On the other hand," Hikoemon went on, "Lord Nobunaga has won the favor of the Emperor and the love and respect of the people. The nation is finally emerging from the darkness of civil war and is greeting a new dawn. Lord Hideyoshi is pained by the thought that you and the many fine men who serve you will die. He wonders if there is not some means to avoid that sacrifice and asks you to reconsider one last time."
Taking out Nobunaga's pledge and a letter from Hideyoshi, Kanbei spoke next. "I will not talk of advantages and disadvantages. Instead, I would like to show you something that demonstrates the intentions of both Lord Hideyoshi and Lord Nobunaga. They both value good warriors. This, therefore, is a signed pledge promising you the provinces of Bitchu and Bingo."
Muneharu bowed respectfully to the document but did not pick it up. He said to Kanbei, "These are quite truly excessive words and this is a document granting me an unmerited reward. I have no idea what to say or what the proper etiquette might be. The stipend that I have received from the Mori clan is no more than seven thousand bushels, and surely I am nothing more than a country samurai approaching old age."
Muneharu said nothing about an agreement. Then there was silence. The two envoys sat in suspense. No matter what they said to him, he would only repeat, warmly and with great respect, "This is more than fair."
Neither all of Hikoemon's experience nor Kanbei's genius seemed to be of any use against this man. As envoys, however, they were determined to break through the wall, and they made their last effort.
"We have really said all that we can say," Kanbei said, "but if you have any particular desires or conditions you would like to add, we will be happy to listen to them and transmit them to Their Lordships. Please speak frankly."
"You're asking me to be frank?" Muneharu asked, almost as though he were talking to himself. He then looked at the two men. "Well, I wonder if you will listen. My hope is that, having reached the end of my life, I do not stray from the right path. That is my first principle. The Mori clan is neither better nor worse than your master in terms of loyalty to the Emperor. Unworthy as I am, I am a retainer of the Mori clan, and even though I've spent an idle life, I've received a stipend from the Mori for many years. My entire clan has received favors from them, and now, during these times of change, I have been ordered to guard the border. Even if I were aiming to make some small profit, and I accepted Lord Hideyoshi's kind offer and became the lord of two provinces, I would not be as happy as I am now. If I turned my back on my lord's clan, what kind of face would I be able to show to the world? At the very least, I would appear to be a complete hypocrite to my family and retainers, and I myself would be breaking every precept I have taught them all along." He laughed. "So, while I appreciate the kindness you've shown, please ask Lord Hideyoshi to forget about all this."
Shaking his head as though he were deeply sorry, Kanbei spoke quickly and distinctly, “I’m not going to be able to persuade you. Hikoemon, we should go."
Hikoemon was unhappy that they had failed, but he had feared from the first that that might happen. Both of them had predicted that Muneharu could not be bribed. "The road will be dangerous during the night. Why don't you stay in the castle tonight, and then leave early tomorrow morning?" Muneharu insisted. It was not simply formality on his part, and the envoys knew he was a truly warm human being. He was their enemy, but he was an honest man.
"No, Lord Hideyoshi will be waiting anxiously for your reply," Hikoemon said. The envoys asked only for torches and then set out on their way. Concerned that something might happen to them, Muneharu sent three of his retainers to take them as as the front lines.
Kanbei and Hikoemon had ridden all the way to and from Takamatsu Castle without breaking their journey for rest or sleep. As soon as they arrived in Okayama, they went straight to Hideyoshi. Their report was short and factual: "General Muneharu refuses to capitulate. His resolve is firm, so another attempt at negotiation would be futile."
Hideyoshi did not appear to be surprised. He told the two men to come back after they had rested. Later that day, Hideyoshi summoned the envoys and several of his generals for a conference.
Referring to a map of the area, Kanbei reviewed the position of the defensive line of seven fortresses. Hideyoshi looked up from the map and stretched out as though he were tired. Earlier he had received news of Nobunaga's victory in Kai. Comparing the ease of his lord's successes with his own difficulties, Hideyoshi hoped that his prospects would improve from then on. He had at once addressed a letter to Nobunaga, to express his congratulations and explain the prospects for his own campaign, and to inform him that he had dropped the idea of trying to persuade Shimizu Muneharu to surrender.
Around the middle of the Third Month, the twenty thousand troops who had been standing by at Himeji entered Okayama, and the Ukita clan sent another ten thousand men. Thus, with a combined force of thirty thousand, Hideyoshi cautiously advanced into Bitchu. After marching only one league, he stopped and waited for reconnaissance reports; after another two leagues, he halted to reconnoiter again. Every soldier had heard the reports of the brilliant victories in Kai, so many found this prudent advance frustrating. Some hastily declared that Takamatsu Castie and the other smaller fortresses could be captured in a single swift advance.
When they understood actual battlefield conditions and the enemy's positions, however, they had to admit that winning a quick victory would be difficult.
Hideyoshi made his first camp on Mount Ryuo, a high plateau well to the north of Takamatsu Castle. From there he could look directly into the castle itself. At a glance he could see the lay of the land and appreciate the interdependence of the fortresses and main castle. He could also survey troop movements from the Mori clan's headquarters and be forewarned if they sent reinforcements.
Hideyoshi began the campaign by taking the small border fortresses one by one, until only Takamatsu remained. Concerned about this negative turn of events, Muneharu sent repeated messages to his overlords, the Mori, begging for reinforcements. One after another, couriers departed with ever more desperate appeals, but conditions did not permit the Mori to counterattack. And it would take them several weeks before they could assemble an army of forty thousand men and march to Takamatsu Castle. The only thing the Mori could do was encourage Muneharu to hold on and assure him that reinforcements were on their way. Then all communications between the castle and its allies were cut.
On the twenty-seventh day of the Fourth Month, Hideyoshi laid siege to Takamatsu Castle. But the fifteen thousand men at his headquarters on Mount Ryuo did not move. Hideyoshi positioned five thousand men on the high ground at Hirayama and the ten thousand me
n of the Ukita clan on Mount Hachiman.
Hideyoshi's generals positioned themselves at the rear of the Ukita contingent. It looked like the first arrangement of counters on a go board, and the positioning of his own retainers to the rear of the Ukita, who until recently had been allies of the Mori, was a matter of prudence.
There were skirmishes between the vanguards of the two armies from the first day of the siege. Kuroda Kanbei, who had just returned from inspecting the front lines, went to see Hideyoshi and described the first day's bloody engagement.
"During this morning's battle," Kanbei began, "Lord Ukita's warriors suffered more than five hundred casualties, while the enemy lost no more than a hundred men. Eighty of the enemy were killed, and twenty others were taken prisoner, but only because they were seriously wounded."
"It was to be expected," Hideyoshi said. "This castle will not fall without bloodshed, it seems that the Ukita fought well." The loyalty of the Ukita vanguard had indeed been tested.
* * *
With the Fifth Month the weather turned sunny and dry. The Ukita, who had suffered heavy casualties in the initial fighting, dug a trench across the front of the castle walls for five nights under cover of darkness. Once the trench was completed, they launched an attack on the castle.
When the defenders saw that the Ukita had advanced as far as the castle gate and outer walls, they hurled insults at them. It was easy to imagine the anger they felt toward these men who had once been their allies but who were now fighting as Hideyoshi's vanguard. As soon as they saw their opportunity, the defenders threw open the main gate and charged out.
"Attack these maggots!" they shouted. "Kill them all!"
Samurai to samurai, soldier to soldier, they grappled and struck at each other. Heads were taken and raised, and they fought with a ferocity rarely seen even on a battlefield. "Fall back! Fall back!" the Ukita general suddenly shouted in the middle of clouds of dust and smoke.
TAIKO: AN EPIC NOVEL OF WAR AND GLORY IN FEUDAL JAPAN Page 89