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

by Eiji Yoshikawa

  "Well, you're pretty hard to understand. Lord Hideyoshi's army has made it a principle to rule benevolently and has done nothing despotic at all so far. What, really, do you have to complain about?"

  The five laborers laughed coldly. One of them said, "Your Honor, we're not complaining. Just pay us what we've earned. We can't fill our stomachs with waste paper and rice tickets. And, more important than that, who is going to give us real money for that waste paper on the day Lord Hideyoshi loses?"

  "If that's what it is, you have nothing to worry about!"

  "Ah, but wait. You say that you're going to win, and you and all these generals have staked your lives on this gamble, but I wouldn't put a half share on a bet like that. Hey, everybody! Isn't that right?"

  As he waved his arms from the top of the dike, asking for the thousands of workers' agreement, a shout arose instantaneously in response, and a wave of human heads undulated back and forth as far as the eye could see.

  "Is that your only complaint?" Kanbei asked.

  "Yeah. That's what we'd like to settle first," the man replied, looking to the crowd for support but not showing the least bit of fear.

  "Absolutely not!" Kanbei spoke in his true voice for the first time. That instant, he threw down his staff, unsheathed his sword, and sliced the man in two. Turning quickly to another who had started to run away, he cut him down too. At the same time, Rokuro and Kyuemon—who were standing behind Kanbei—wielded their swords and finished off the other three men in a shower of gushing blood.

  In this way Kanbei, Kyuemon, and Rokuro divided up their work and cut down five men in the instant it takes lightning to strike.

  Struck by the speed and unexpectedness of the action, the laborers were as hushed as grass in a graveyard. The dissatisfied voices had been hushed in an instant. The faces that had been so impudent up until then—the defiant looks—were gone. Nothing was left but countless faces the color of earth, cowering in fear.

  Standing over the five corpses, the three samurai glared ominously at the laborers, their blood-soaked swords still in their hands.

  Kanbei finally shouted with all his ferocity, "These five men who represented you— we called them up here, listened to what they had to say, and gave them a very clear an­swer. Someone else may have something to say, too, however." He paused, waiting for someone to speak up. "Surely there's someone down there who wants to come up. Who's next? If there's anyone who thinks he wants to say something for everyone, now's the time to speak up!"

  Kanbei was quiet for a moment, giving the men time to reflect on the matter. Among those numberless heads, there were very clearly men whose expressions were changing from fear to regret. Kanbei wiped the blood off his sword and returned it to its scabbard. Softening his expression, he lectured the laborers in a dignified manner.

  "I see that no one is going to come up after these five men, so I imagine that means your intentions are different from theirs. If I'm right, then I'm going to have my say. Are there any objections?"

  The several thousand laborers answered in the voices of men who had been saved from death. Not one of them had an objection. Nobody had any intention of complain­ing. The men who had spoken were clearly the ringleaders who had instigated the slow­downs. The rest were going to follow orders and work. Would Hideyoshi forgive them?

  The three thousand men were speaking noisily back and forth, some in whispers, some yelling, so that one could hardly understand who was saying what. The feeling of the entire crowd, however, was united.

  "Quiet now!" Kanbei waved his hand to control them. "All right. This is the way I think it should be. I'm not going to say anything complicated, but essentially it would be best if you all worked happily and quickly with your wives and children under His Lord­ship's administration. If you're indolent or greedy, you will only delay the arrival of the day you are looking forward to. The expeditionary army sent by Lord Nobunaga will not be defeated by the Mori. No matter how large a province the Mori control, it is a province that is doomed to fall. This is not because the Mori are weak, but because of the great movement of the times. Do you understand?"

  "Yes," the laborers replied.

  "Well then, are you going to work?"

  "We're going to work. We're really going to work!"

  "All right!" Kanbei nodded strongly and turned toward Hideyoshi. "My lord, you can hear how the workers have spoken, so won't you be generous with them this time?" He almost seemed to be pleading for the crowd.

  Hideyoshi stood up. He gave a command to Kanbei and the two officials who were kneeling before him. Almost immediately, foot soldiers walked over, shouldering what appeared to be heavy money bags—a mountain of straw money bags.

  Facing the laborers, who were caught up in their fears and regrets, Kanbei said, “You're really not to blame. All of you are in a pitiful situation. You've been led astray by two or three bad elements. That is what Lord Hideyoshi has declared; and so that you'll work with no other thoughts in mind, he has commanded that we give you a bonus to urge you on a little. Receive, express your thanks, and get quickly back to work."

  When the command was given to the foot soldiers, every straw bag there was broken open and the mountain of coins poured out, almost covering the top of the dike.

  "Grab however much you can and go. But only one fistful for each man."

  He said this quite clearly, but the laborers still hesitated to make a move forward. They whispered among themselves and looked back and forth at each other, but the mountain of coins stayed right where it was.

  "The fastest man will be the winner! Don't complain after it's all gone. Each man should take a fistful, so the men born with big hands can account themselves lucky, and men with little hands shouldn't let anything slip between their fingers. Don't get excited and fail. Then go back to work."

  The laborers no longer had any doubts. They could see that Kanbei meant what he said with his smiling face and jocular words. The laborers in the front of the crowd rushed up to the mountain of coins. They wavered a little, as though frightened by the sight of so much money, but as soon as the first man had grabbed a fistful and retreated, a chorus of happy voices suddenly arose. It sounded almost like a victory song. Almost immediately such confusion took over that coins, men, and clods of earth were hardly distinguishable. No man, however, tried to cheat—somewhere along the line they had all thrown off their craftiness and dissatisfaction. Holding on to their handfuls of coins, they seemed to have been transformed, and each man ran off to his own work station.

  The echoes of hoes and spades being used with real force filled the air. With spirited yells, men dumped earth, inserted poles through the straw carrying-baskets, and shouldered sandbags away. Real spirit was being mustered for the first time. The sweat the men were now wringing out of themselves increasingly gladdened and refreshed them, and they began to shout with enthusiasm among themselves.

  "Who says we can't finish this dike in five days? Hey, everybody—remember the big flood?"

  "That's right. This is nothing like trying to keep the flood waters out."

  "Let's do it! Let's give it all we've got!"

  "I'm not going to give up!"

  In just half a day, more work was accomplished than in the previous five.

  The overseers' whips and Kanbei's staff were no longer needed. Bonfires were lit at night, the dust from the earth darkened the day, and finally the work was almost finished.

  As the landlocked dike neared completion, the related work of diverting the seven rivers around Takamatsu Castle also advanced. Nearly twenty thousand men had been put to work on that project. Damming up and drawing off the waters of the Ashimori and Naruya rivers were the construction projects considered to be the most difficult.

  The official in charge of damming the Ashimori often complained to Hideyoshi, "The level of water is rising every day with the heavy rains in the mountains. There just doesn't seem to be any way of damming it."

  Kanbei had gone to inspect the s
ite with Rokuro the day before, and he understood the extreme difficulty of the situation.

  "The current is so strong that even when we pushed in boulders that took twenty or thirty men to move, they were washed away immediately."

  When even Kanbei could only bring back excuses, Hideyoshi went to the river him­self to see the actual situation. But when he stood there and looked at the power of the rushing current, his own human knowledge was overwhelmed.

  Rokuro came up and offered a suggestion: "If we cut down trees at the upper reaches of the river and push them in with the foliage still attached, it may slow the cur­rent a little."

  This plan was put into operation, and for half a day, more than a thousand workers felled trees and tossed them whole into the river. But this, too, failed to slow the current.

  Rokuro's next suggestion was to sink thirty large boats loaded with huge boulders at the site of the proposed dam.

  Pulling the huge boats up against the current, however, proved to be impossible, so wooden planks were set out on the land, oil was poured over them, and, with great effort, the boats were pulled overland and sunk with their loads of boulders at the mouth of the river.

  In the meantime the great dike, stretching an entire league, had been completed, and the rushing current of the Ashimori was transformed into foam and spray and diverted toward the plain around Takamatsu Castle.

  At about the same time, the waters of the other six rivers were channeled into the area. Only the channeling of the Naruya River had proved too difficult for the workers to complete on time.

  Fourteen days had passed since the seventh day of the Fifth Month, the day the work began. It had been completed in two weeks.

  On the twenty-first day of the Fifth Month, the forty thousand Mori troops under Kikkawa and Kobayakawa arrived at the border—one day after the surroundings of Takamatsu Castle had been transformed into a muddy lake.

  On the morning of the twenty-first, Hideyoshi stood with his generals at the headquarters on Mount Ishii and looked over his handiwork.

  Whether one thought of it a grand spectacle or a wretched one, the swollen waters— aided by the rain during the night—had left Takamatsu Castle standing completely iso­lated in the middle of a lake. The outer stone walls, the forest, the drawbridge, the roofs of

  The houses, the villages, the fields, the rice paddies, and the roads were all submerged, and the level was rising hourly.

  "Where's the Ashimori?"

  In response to Hideyoshi's question, Kanbei pointed to a stand of pines that could dimly be seen in the west.

  "As you can see, there's an opening in the dike of about four hundred fifty yards in that area, and we're running the dammed-up waters of the Ashimori through that break."

  Hideyoshi followed the line of the faraway mountains from west to south. Beneath the sky directly to the south, he could see Mount Hizashi on the border. With the dawn, the countless banners of the Mori's vanguard had appeared on the mountain.

  "They're the enemy, but you can't help but sympathize with what Kikkawa and Kobayakawa must have felt this morning when they arrived and saw the lake. They must have stamped on the ground in vexation," Kanbei said.

  Just at that moment, the son of the official in charge of the work at the Naruya River site prostrated himself in front of Hideyoshi. He was crying.

  "What's the matter?" Hideyoshi asked.

  "This morning," the young man replied, "my father declared that he was guilty of inexcusable negligence. He wrote you this letter of apology and committed seppuku."

  The official had been in charge of the difficult project of cutting five hundred yards through a mountain. Ninety yards remained that morning, thus he had not met his dead-:. Taking responsibility for the failure, the man had taken his own life.

  Hideyoshi gazed down at the man's son, whose hands, feet, and hair were still covered with mud. He gently beckoned him to his side.

  "You are not to commit seppuku yourself. Pray for your father's soul by your action on the battlefield. All right?" And he lightly patted the youth's back.

  The young man cried openly. The rain began to fall. Stripes of white rain began to pour into the muddy lake from the thick clouds that were quietly descending.

  It was now the night of the twenty-second day of the Fifth Month, the evening after the arrival of the Mori troops at the border.

  In the dark, two men swam like strange fish across the muddy lake and crawled up to the dike. They triggered an array of clappers and bells that had been attached to a rope stretched along the water's edge, tied to the dwarf bamboo and brushwood, and made to look just like the brambles of a wild rose.

  A bonfire burned brightly at each guardhouse along the dike. The guards came running quickly and captured one man, while the other was able to make good his escape.

  "It doesn't make any difference whether he's one of the soldiers from the castle or on an errand from the Mori. Lord Hideyoshi should question this man carefully."

  The commander of the guards sent the captive to Mount Ishii.

  "Who is this man?" Hideyoshi asked as he went out to the veranda.

  Retainers held lamps at either side of him, and he stared down at the enemy soldier, who was kneeling beneath the rain-covered eaves. The man knelt proudly, both arms bound with rope.

  "This man's no soldier from the castle. I'll bet he's a messenger from the Mori. Wasn't he carrying anything?" he asked the retainer in charge of the prisoner.

  In his preliminary investigation, the retainer had found in the man's clothing a sake bottle containing a letter, which he now placed before Hideyoshi.

  "Hm… it seems to be a reply from Muneharu, addressed to Kikkawa and Kobayakawa. Bring the lamp a little closer."

  The Mori reinforcements had been discouraged when they saw the lake that stretched as far as the eye could see. They had rushed to the castle, but had no idea how to aid it now that it was surrounded by water. They advised Muneharu to surrender to Hideyoshi and save the thousands of lives inside the castle.

  The letter that Hideyoshi now held in his hand was Muneharu's response to that suggestion.

  You have thought sympathetically of those of us here, and your words are filled with benevolence. But Takamatsu Castle is now the pivot of the western provinces, and its fall would surely signal the demise of the Mori clan. We have all received favors from the Mori clan since the time of Lord Motonari, and there is not one person here who would extend his life even by a day by selling the victory song to the enemy. We are firmly prepared for a siege, and are resolved to die with the castle.

  In his letter, Muneharu was actually encouraging the reinforcements. The captured Mori messenger answered Hideyoshi's questions with unexpected frankness. Since Muneharu's letter had already been read by the enemy, he seemed resigned to the fact that it would be futile to hide anything. But Hideyoshi did not make a complete investigation. It was a matter of not humiliating a samurai. What was useless was simply appraised as such, and Hideyoshi turned his thoughts in another direction.

  "I think that's enough. Untie this warrior's bonds and turn him loose."

  "Turn him loose?"

  "He swam across that muddy lake, and he looks cold. Feed him and send him off with a pass so he won't be arrested again on the way."

  "Yes, my lord."

  The retainer untied the messenger. The man had naturally been resolved to die, and was now confused. He bowed silently toward Hideyoshi and started to get up.

  "I trust Lord Kikkawa is in good health," Hideyoshi said. "Please send him my warmest greetings."

  The Mori messenger knelt down in the proper fashion. Feeling the depth of Hide­yoshi's kindness, he bowed with the deepest respect.

  "Also, I think there is a monk by the name of Ekei on Lord Terumoto's field staff. Ekei of Ankokuji."

  "There is, my lord."

  "I haven't seen him for a long time. Please send him my regards as well."

  As soon as the messenger had gone, Hideyoshi tu
rned and asked a retainer, "Do you have the letter I gave you earlier?"

  "Quite securely, my lord."

  "It contains a secret message of great importance. Take it directly to Lord Nobunaga."

  "I shall deliver it to him without fail."

  "Undoubtedly, that Mori retainer left on his errand with no less resolution than your own. But he was captured, and a letter containing the intentions of both Muneharu and Kikkawa fell into my hands. Be extremely careful."

  Hideyoshi sat facing the lamp. The letter he had entrusted to the messenger to take to Azuchi requested Nobunaga to lead an army into the west.

  The fate of the solitary Takamatsu Castle was like that of a fish already in the net. The combined armies of Mori Terumoto, Kobayakawa Takakage, and Kikkawa Motoharu had come. The hour was now! The conquest of the west could be completed with a single blow. Hideyoshi wanted to show this grand spectacle to Nobunaga, and he believed his lord's personal attendance would guarantee a momentous victory.

  "Kumquat Head!"

  The castle town of Azuchi had become the bustling center of a new culture. Lively, color­fully dressed citizens thronged its streets, and above, the brilliant golds and blues of the castle donjon looked as though they had been embroidered with the green of the new spring leaves.

  Conditions could not have been more different from those in the west. In the Fifth Month, while Hideyoshi and his men had been toiling day and night in the mud to ac­complish their attack on Takamatsu Castle, the streets of Azuchi were hung with decora­tions, and the town was so animated that it looked as though its citizens were celebrating the New Year and the Midsummer Festival at the same time.

  Nobunaga was preparing to welcome a guest of some importance. But who, people wondered, could be that important? The man who arrived at Azuchi on the fifteenth day of the Fifth Month was none other than Lord Tokugawa Ieyasu of Mikawa.

  Less than one month before, Nobunaga had made his triumphal return from Kai through Ieyasu's province of Mikawa, so he might have been doing nothing more than re­turning the courtesy. But the visit was clearly in Ieyasu's interest; it was an era of sweeping change, and no time to neglect the future. Thus, though it was rare for Ieyasu to make formal visits to other provinces, he was coming to Azuchi, attended by a brilliant retinue of retainers.