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

Home > Literature > TAIKO: AN EPIC NOVEL OF WAR AND GLORY IN FEUDAL JAPAN > Page 106
TAIKO: AN EPIC NOVEL OF WAR AND GLORY IN FEUDAL JAPAN Page 106

by Eiji Yoshikawa

"It's so good that you have come. There is no time to say anything more, and there's really nothing else in my heart. I'm just grateful to be with you now, and firmly believe that in heaven your father's soul will be pleased by this action. I feel as though I've finally been able to pay my respects to you here and have fulfilled my duty as a retainer. I'm happy for the first time since Takamatsu Castle."

  Later that day Hideyoshi invited Nobutaka to accompany him back to his camp in Tonda, and together they turned toward Yamazaki.

  They arrived at Yamazaki at the Hour of the Monkey, the ten thousand men of their reserve army adding to the eight thousand five hundred men of the three vanguard corps. Now there was no place in the mountains or village where horses and soldiers could not be seen.

  "We've just received a report that an Akechi army has attacked the Nakagawa corps in the foothills east of Tennozan."

  Now was the time to strike. Hideyoshi gave the command for the entire army to attack.

  On the morning of the ninth, when Hideyoshi was leaving Himeji, Mitsuhide returned to Kyoto. Less than a week had gone by since Nobunaga's murder.

  On the second, at the Hour of the Ram, while the ruins of the Honno Temple were still smoldering, Mitsuhide had left Kyoto to attack Azuchi. But on his very first step outside the capital, Mitsuhide ran into an obstacle at the river crossing at Seta. That morning he had sent a letter demanding the surrender of Seta Castle, but its governor had killed the messenger and set fire to the castle and the Seta Bridge.

  Thus the Akechi troops were unable to cross the river. Mitsuhide's eyes burned with indignation. The fire-gutted bridge seemed almost to be mocking him. The world does not see you as you see the world.

  Forced to return to Sakamoto Castle, Mitsuhide spent two or three fruitless days waiting until the bridge was repaired. By the time he rode into Azuchi, however, the town was deserted, and its huge castle housed neither master nor men. In the town, there were no goods or even a shop sign left to be seen. Nobunaga's family had fled, but in their haste they had been forced to leave behind Nobunaga's hoard of gold and silver, and his collection of works of art.

  Mitsuhide was shown these things after his troops secured the castle, but he did not feel wealthier for it. Somehow he felt beggared.

  This is not what I was looking for, he thought, and it's mortifying if people think it was.

  He had all the gold and silver in the treasury distributed as rewards to his men. Common soldiers received several hundred gold pieces, while the highest-ranking generals rec­ieved three to five thousand gold pieces.

  What do I want? Mitsuhide asked himself time and again. To rule the nation! came the answer, but it had a hollow ring to it. He had to admit to himself that he had never embraced such lofty hopes, having neither the ambition nor the ability. All along, he had had only one motive: to kill Nobunaga. Mitsuhide's desires had been sated by the fires of the Honno Temple, and now all that was left was a passion so devoid of conviction that it seemed nothing more than frenzy.

  According to a story circulating at the time, Mitsuhide had tried to kill himself soon as he heard that Nobunaga was dead. His retainers had forcibly stopped him. In instant that Nobunaga had been turned to ashes, the hatred that had frozen Mitsuhide’s heart had dissolved like melting snow. The ten thousand soldiers who served him, however, did not share his attitude. On the contrary, they hoped that their real reward was to come.

  "From this day on, Lord Mitsuhide is the ruler of the country," the Akechi generals announced with a conviction Mitsuhide lacked. .

  But the lord they looked up to was no more than a hollow simulacrum of his former self. He differed in appearance and disposition—even in intellect.

  Mitsuhide remained in Azuchi from the fifth until the morning of the eighth, and during that time he took Hideyoshi's castle at Nagahama as well as Niwa Nagahide's at Sawayama. Once he had completely occupied the province of Omi, Mitsuhide re-outfitted his army and once again set off for the capital.

  It was then that Mitsuhide received the news that the Hosokawa clan had refused join him. He had been convinced that Hosokawa Tadaoki, his son-in-law, would be quick to follow him once Nobunaga had been overthrown. But the response carried back from the Hosokawa clan had been an angry refusal. So far Mitsuhide had been absorbed by question of who would be his allies; he had given little thought to who would be his strongest enemy.

  It was only then that Hideyoshi's existence struck Mitsuhide like a blow to the chest. He had not overlooked Hideyoshi's abilities and his military strength in the west. On contrary, he knew that Hideyoshi was an immense threat. What gave Mitsuhide a little peace of mind was his belief that Hideyoshi was pinned down by the Mori and would be unable to return quickly. He thought that at least one of the two messengers he had sent to the Mori had accomplished his mission. And, no doubt, the Mori's response would arrive soon, informing him that they had attacked Hideyoshi and destroyed him. But nothing was heard from the Mori, nor was there any response from Nakagawa Sebei, Ikeda Shonyu, and Takayama Ukon. The news that reached Mitsuhide instead each morning sounded like a judgment from heaven.

  For Mitsuhide, Sakamoto Castle held vivid memories of recent events: his humiliation by Nobunaga; his departure from Azuchi in a rage; his stay at Sakamoto where had stood at the crossroads of doubt. Now there was no more doubt, no more resentment. And at the same time, he had lost all of his powers of self-examination. He had exchanged his true intelligence for the empty title of ruler of the nation.

  On the night of the ninth, Mitsuhide still had no idea where Hideyoshi was, but the attitudes of the local lords made him feel uneasy. On the following morning he left his camp at Shimo Toba and climbed up to Horagamine Pass in Yamashiro, at which place he had arranged to join with Tsutsui Junkei's army.

  "Has Tsutsui Junkei been sighted yet?" Mitsuhide asked his lookouts at regular intervals during the day.

  Because Mitsuhide had been in collusion with Tsutsui Junkei before the attack on the

  Honno Temple, he had never had cause to doubt his ally's loyalty—until now. At nightfall there was still no sign of the Tsutsui forces. Not only that, but the three Oda retainers he had hoped to win over to his side—Nakagawa Sebei, Takayama Ukon, and Ikeda Shonyu—had not responded to his urgent summonses, even though they were nominally under his command.

  Mitsuhide's uneasiness was not unjustified. He consulted with Saito Toshimitsu. "Do you think something's wrong, Toshimitsu?"

  Mitsuhide wanted to believe that something had happened to the messengers he had sent, or that Junkei and the others were merely delayed, but Saito Toshimitsu had already faced up to the truth.

  "No, my lord," the old man replied. "I suspect Lord Tsutsui has no intention of coming. There's no reason for him to be so late traveling the level roads from Koriyama."

  "No, there must be some reason," Mitsuhide insisted. He summoned Fujita Dengo, quickly wrote up a letter, and sent him to Koriyama. "Take the best horses. If you ride at top speed, you should be able to come back by morning."

  "If Lord Tsutsui will talk with me, I'll be back at dawn," Dengo said.

  "There's no reason why he shouldn't talk with you. Get an answer from him even if it’s late at night."

  "Yes, my lord."

  Dengo immediately set off for Koriyama. Before he was able to return, however, scouts arrived with reports that Hideyoshi's forces were moving eastward and that the vanguard had already come as far as the neighboring province of Hyogo.

  "Impossible! It must be a mistake!" Mitsuhide burst out when he heard the news. He could not believe that Hideyoshi had been able to make peace with the Mori, and, even if he had, that he could have moved his large army so quickly.

  "I don't think this is a false report, my lord," Toshimitsu said, once again intuiting the truth. "In any event, I think we should determine a counterstrategy at once."

  Perceiving that Mitsuhide was wavering, Toshimitsu rejoined with a concrete proposal. "If I were to wait for Lord Tsutsui here, you, my
lord, could hasten to stop Hideyoshi from entering the capital."

  "There isn't much hope that Tsutsui will come, is there?" Mitsuhide finally admitted.

  "I think there are only one or two chances in ten of his joining your side, my lord."

  "What strategy do you suggest for stopping Hideyoshi?"

  "The only view we can take is that Ukon, Sebei, and Shonyu are already in league with Hideyoshi. If Tsutsui Junkei has joined him as well, our military strength will be insufficient to take the initiative and attack him. In my estimation, however, it will take Hideyoshi another five or six days to get his whole army here. During that time, if we reinforced the two castles at Yodo and Shoryuji, built forts along the north-south road to Kyoto, and mustered all the forces in Omi and the other areas, we might be able to hold him off temporarily."

  "What? All of that would only stop him temporarily?"

  "After that, we'll need a far grander strategy—going far beyond small local battles. But right now we're in a critical situation. You should leave immediately."

  Toshimitsu waited for Fujita Dengo to return from his mission in Koriyama.

  He arrived with anger stamped all over his brow. "It's no good," he said to Toshimitsu. "That bastard Junkei has also betrayed us. He made up some excuse for not coming here, but on the way back I discovered that he's been in contact with Hideyoshi. To think that a man who was so close to the Akechi clan would be capable of this!"

  Dengo's abuse was unending, but Toshimitsu's lined face showed no emotion at all.

  Mitsuhide left at about noon, having accomplished nothing. He arrived back at Shimo Toba about the same time that Hideyoshi was enjoying a short nap in Amagasaki. The heat on this day was the same at both the Zen temple in Amagasaki and the camp at Shimo Toba. As soon as Mitsuhide arrived back in camp, he met with his generals at headquarters and discussed battle strategy. He still did not realize that Hideyoshi was already within shouting distance at Amagasaki. Although Hideyoshi's vanguard was already moving into position, Mitsuhide judged that it would take several more days Hideyoshi himself to arrive. It would not be right to attribute this mistake to his intellect. He had simply made a judgment based on common sense, using his own uncommon intelligence. Moreover, this particular judgment was in harmony with what everyoneelse deemed logical as well.

  The conference had been completed without any waste of time, and Akechi Shigetomo was the first to leave. He immediately rode to Yodo to begin emergency construction work to strengthen the castle. The narrow mountain road to the capital would surely be a focus for the enemy assault. Yodo Castle was on its right, Shoryuji Castle on its left.

  Mitsuhide issued an order to the divisions that had been deployed along the banks of the Yodo River: "Pull back to Shoryuji and take up defensive positions. Prepare for an enemy attack."

  Mitsuhide made his preparations, but when he calculated the size of the enemy army, he could not completely relinquish his perception of his own weakness. A considerable number of soldiers had been gathering here from the capital and the surrounding area, putting themselves under his command throughout the day. But they were all low-ranking samurai or ronin —little better than mercenaries looking for a quick way to rise in the world. Not one of them had any military ability or the resources to lead.

  "How many men have we got in all?" Mitsuhide asked his generals.

  Counting the troops at Azuchi, Sakamoto, Shoryuji, Horagamine, and Yodo, Mitsuhide’s forces numbered about sixteen thousand men.

  "If only Hosokawa and Tsutsui would join me," Mitsuhide mumbled, "no one could dislodge me from the capital." Even after he had decided his strategy, he was troubled by the sizeable difference in the numbers of troops. Mitsuhide's brain worked in terms of calculations, and now there was not even a flicker of hope that he would have the advantage. Moreover, somewhere a tiny wisp of fear was finding its way into his consciousness. That in itself could make the difference between victory and defeat. He was beginning to sink beneath the waves that he himself had created.

  Mitsuhide stood on the hill outside of camp, staring up at the clouds.

  "Looks like rain," he muttered this into a wind that showed little sign of rain at all. It was essential for a general who was soon to engage in a battle to be aware of the weather. Mitsuhide stood and worried about the movement of the clouds and the direction of the wind for a long while.

  Finally he looked down at the Yodo River. The small lights that swayed in the wind must have been those of his own patrol boats. The undulating line of the large river appeared to be white, while the mountains beyond were pitch black.

  The broad sky stretched over the river, and to the faraway estuary of the sea at Amagasaki. As Mitsuhide's eyes stared in that direction, almost as though they were sending out shafts of light, he asked himself, What is Hideyoshi capable of? Then he called out in a harsh tone that he rarely employed, "Sakuza! Sakuza! Where is Sakuzaemon?"

  He turned quickly and walked back to camp with long strides. A dark and violent wind was shaking the barracks like a huge wave.

  "Yes, my lord! Yojiro is here!" an attendant answered, running out to meet him.

  "Yojiro, the call to arms. We're marching out right away."

  While the army was striking camp, Mitsuhide sent urgent dispatches to all his commanders, including his cousin Mitsuharu in Sakamoto Castle, informing them of his decision. He was not going to retreat and fight a defensive campaign. He had resolved to attack Hideyoshi with all his strength.

  It was the second watch of the night. Not a single star was visible. A combat unit was the first to descend the hill; it was to stand guard at the upper and lower reaches of the Katsura River. The supply corps, the main units, and the rear guard came down behind them. A sudden shower began to fall. By the time the entire army was halfway across the river, pure white rain was beating down on it.

  The wind came up as well—a cold wind from the northwest. The foot soldiers muttered to themselves as they stared at the dark surface of the river.

  "Both the river and the wind are coming at us from the mountains of Tamba."

  During the day, they might have been able to see. Oinosaka was not far away, and it was only ten days before that they had crossed Oinosaka and left the Akechi base at Kameyama Castle. To the men, however, it felt like something that had happened several years ago.

  "Don't fall! Don't let your fuses get wet!" the officers yelled. The force of the current in the Katsura River was far more violent than usual, due probably to a heavy rainfall in the mountains.

  The spear corps crossed, each man holding on to the spear of the man in front of him, followed by the gunners, who grasped each other's stocks and muzzles. The horsemen surrounding Mitsuhide galloped up the opposite bank, leaving a trail of froth and bubbles. From somewhere in front of them, the dull sound of sporadic gunfire could be heard, while in the distance sparks leaped into the sky, probably from burning farmhouses. As soon as the gunfire stopped, however, the fires also disappeared and everything returned to darkness.

  A runner soon arrived with a report. "Our men have driven back an enemy reconnaissance party. They set several farmhouses alight as they retreated."

  Taking no notice of this report, Mitsuhide advanced through Kuga Nawate, passed by Shoryuji Castle, which was held by his own men, and purposefully made his camp at Onbozuka, some five or six hundred yards farther to the southwest. The rain that had plagued them for the last two or three days now ceased, and stars began to glitter in a sky that had previously displayed nothing but different shades of ink.

  The enemy is quiet too, Mitsuhide thought as he stood at Onbozuka, staring into the dark in the direction of Yamazaki. He felt deep emotion and tension at the thought that Hideyoshi's army was facing him from a distance of barely half a league. Making Onbozuka the focal point of his entire force, and using the Shoryuji Castle as his supply base, he deployed his troops in a line from the Yodo River in the southwest to the Enmyoji River, as though opening up a fan. By the time
each corps of the advance guard had gotten into position, it was almost dawn and the outline of the long, flowing Yodo River was beginning to become visible.

  Suddenly the echo of violent gunfire could be heard in the direction of Tennozan. The sun had not yet risen, and the clouds were dark with thick mist. It was the thirteenth day of the Sixth Month, and so early that not even the whinnying of a single horse could be heard on the road to Yamazaki.

  Looking out from Mitsuhide's main camp at Onbozuka, the soldiers could see Tennozan about half a league to the southwest. Hugging its left side was the road to Yamazaki and a large river—the Yodo.

  Tennozan was steep, about nine hundred feet at its highest point. On the day before, when Hideyoshi's main army had advanced as far as Tonda, his officers had all looked straight ahead and stared at the mountain. Several of them had questioned the local guide. "What mountain is that?"

  "Is that Yamazaki in the eastern foothills?"

  "The enemy is at Shoryuji. Where is that in relation to Tennozan?"

  Every corps had to be accompanied by someone who was familiar with the lay of the land. Everyone who understood strategy knew that the side that controlled the high ground would win the day.

  And every general was also aware that the first man who planted his banner onTennozan would win more glory than the one who took the first head on the plain. Each general had sworn that he would be that man. On the eve of the thirteenth, several of Hideyoshi's generals had asked him to adopt their plan of attack, and hoped they would be given the order to storm the mountain.

  "Tomorrow will be the decisive battle," Hideyoshi said. "Yodo, Yamazaki, and Tennozan will be the main battlefields. Prove yourselves worthy of being called men. Don’t compete with one another, or think only of your own glory. Remember that Lord Nobunaga and the god of war will be looking down on you from heaven."

  But as soon as they received Hideyoshi's permission, the gunners raced toward Tennozan in high spirits and in a disorganized melee in the dead of night. This strategic place that had attracted the eyes of all of Hideyoshi's generals had not been overlooked by Mitsuhide. He had decided to march at full speed, cross the Katsura River, and come out quickly at Onbozuka to take Tennozan.

 

‹ Prev