Toward dusk the warriors tethered their horses outside a house that looked more like an aristocratic villa than a teahouse. There seemed to be several rooms separated from each other by enclosed gardens. A balustraded veranda overlooking the Yodo River extended along one side of the house.
". . . Wine, food—now what about the dancing-girls?"
"You'll have to call for those."
"Doesn't this seem like a warrior's house?"
"There's not much point to staying next to a teahouse and minding our manners."
"No dancing-girls—do we provide our own entertainment?"
"Wait, I'll go and see."
Tota left the room and returned almost immediately.
"They'll be here—very soon."
"Coming? At last—"
"The girls live in that wing with the mistress of the house—a nun."
"A nun, did you say?"
"Seems so. I hear they're quite particular about their guests. They seem to think we're respectable."
"That's bad. We shan't have our fun."
"Too soon to complain. We'll have to see the girls first."
The dancing-girls soon appeared in their flowing multicolored robes. Their bearing, their coiffure, and their elaborate toilette reminded the young men of court ladies, and the ornaments they wore showed that merchants who bartered with smugglers from China were regular guests here.
Juro, the eldest of the three, asked: "Will you tell us your names?"
". . . Senzai."
". . . Kujaku."
". . . Ko-Kannon."
Instead of staying one night as they had planned, they stayed three. Ko-Kannon seemed greatly taken with Jiro's naivete and his quaint-sounding eastern dialect, and Jiro found Ko-Kannon completely enchanting. While his companions spent their time drinking and playing dice games, or dancing and singing to the music of lutes with the other entertainers in the establishment, Jiro withdrew to a small room with Ko-Kannon. Drowsy with wine, he stared at her pale eyelids and asked: "How long have you lived here in Eguchi?"
"For the last three years."
"Since the Hogen War, then?"
"Yes, my home was destroyed in the fires," Ko-Kannon replied, lowering her gaze. "My father died then, and all my relatives were scattered."
"Oh?"
"I tell you in confidence—my father sided with the ex-Emperor and was beheaded."
"So your father was a courtier? How cruel to take an unfortunate young girl and make her a professional entertainer! If your father were living, you would be a grand lady in your own right."
"Don't say such things, I beg you. . . . I'm not the only one who came here after the war was over. There are other of nobler birth who have—"
"With all those courtiers and generals killed, it's not strange that many guiltless women have had to face misfortunes of every kind. Not all of them, however, seem to have become nuns."
"Not all, to be sure, for here is our Mother, as we call her, who enjoys this kind of life and who chose to come to Eguchi. All the houses here are not what they appear to be, nor all the entertainers mere harlots."
Jiro, who had heard so much of the famous courtesans of Eguchi while he was still in the east, looked at Ko-Kannon with admiration.
"There must be many courtiers and gentlemen who come here. What makes you receive us eastern warriors so hospitably?"
Ko-Kannon smiled at Jiro's query. "We no longer have any respect for those painted, perfumed aristocrats—the ministers and high officials. It vexes us beyond words, after a while, to entertain them. To us those gay, smiling merchants who cross the angry seas and you young warriors seem like real men. I don't know exactly why—and it's not only I that thinks so."
"We'll leave tomorrow," the young men told each other. "Now for our last night of junketing. No jokes about our lady-loves. We'll leave Jiro alone with Ko-Kannon to make his farewells."
But Jiro and Ko-Kannon, exchanging pleased smiles at the teasing, joined in the noisy games and dancing, of which neither Juro nor Tota seemed to have had enough. Cup after cup of wine was emptied as the dancing, singing, miming, and joking went on. Toward midnight the entertainers suddenly vanished one by one, until only a sleepy-eyed serving-girl remained to pour the wine. "What's this all of a sudden?"
"They couldn't be ghosts—and without any explanations. Even Jiro's Ko-Kannon has left us."
"Some important guests just arrived from the capital, I suppose."
"Blossoms before a hurricane—I wonder who they are." They peered through the branches overhanging the water and saw an elaborately furnished boat touch the shore. Lights streamed down to the water's edge, and presently a gentleman in a hunting cloak, accompanied by attendants, came toward the house.
Ko-Kannon, meanwhile, reappeared; taking Jiro aside, she whispered something to him and then left. "What did she say, Jiro?"
"She was just explaining things, and apologizing, and crying."
"I was told that that visitor we saw now is not one of the usual travelers, or a wealthy merchant, but some close relative of the proprietress here."
"What's that to us? We're guests, too."
"Losing your temper? It won't do us any good."
"It's all very well to say that when you enjoy having Ko-Kannon crying on your shoulder, but what about us?"
"It doesn't look well for a warrior to appear so irked. Wait until I explain. Those people who just arrived are housemen and servants from Rokuhara. Kiyomori of the Heike is going on a pilgrimage to Kumano Shrine in Kishu and is to stop here on the way, and these people have arrived to get things in order for his arrival in a day or two."
"From Rokuhara!" gasped Tota and Juro, staring at each other.
"There was talk that he was making this pilgrimage, but the day has actually been set, has it?"
"That means we'll have to leave for the capital at once. We had our instructions from General Yoshitomo of the Genji."
"We mustn't lose a moment getting back."
The three warriors quickly prepared to leave. "Our horses—are they ready?"
"They will be brought around immediately. Unfortunately, we're rather busy. ... A little patience, please," a manservant replied soothingly.
"No, we're not annoyed. Urgent business takes us back to the capital. . . . Where's the stable? We'll leave from there."
"This way, sirs. Let me take you."
Ko-Kannon waited outside with a lantern and led them through an inner garden, then through a gate. The stable was in a vacant lot between the house and an adjacent building.
"Please don't forget us, and come again," Ko-Kannon said.
"Next time Jiro shall come alone," laughed Tota and Juro as they saddled their horses and prepared to mount. When they looked round for Jiro, they found him peering through a hedge.
"Is that the neighboring house?"
"No, that is where we live with our Mother."
"Jiro! You wretch, peeping! Ko-Kannon, scold him!"
"No, that light over there is in our Mother's room. Ours is on this side of the garden."
Tota immediately thrust his reins into Juro's hands and ran to join Jiro. Despite the cold, a shutter had been left open, and they saw the dignified figure of the woman who sat within. It was difficult to judge her age. The white folds of a nun's coif framed her face becomingly; she seemed to be in her fifties. Her skin gleamed palely in the lamplight and the painted eyebrows gave a youthful comeliness to the face outlined by the headdress. Her nightingale-colored robes lent her distinction as she conversed with someone on the other side of the tall lampstand. Both Tota and Jiro at once recognized this man whom they had seen frequently in the capital, and they gaped at each other in astonishment. It was Kiyomori's younger brother Tsunemori, an officer of the Fifth Rank since the Hogen War.
That night the young warriors hurried toward Kyoto. As they stopped to rest on the way, they discussed what had happened that night. Juro, who had not seen all that Jiro and Tota had, added: "I know that Kiyomori'
s brother was to arrive earlier than the rest of the party, but who do you suppose the mistress of that house could be? I wonder what her name is."
Then they attempted to recall whether they had said anything indiscreet during the days spent at Eguchi, for they had heard that the mistress of the establishment was in some way related to Kiyomori.
"Now, don't worry about that," Jiro assured the others.
"Jiro, Ko-Kannon surely told you something. It's all very well for you to tell us not to worry, but what makes you say that?"
"I'm inclined to believe what she said, and yet I'm skeptical about it. . . ."
"There, you see! Ko-Kannon must have told you something."
"She did, and this is what she said: that their Mother used to be a dancing-girl in the capital, and that she had once been the Emperor Shirakawa's mistress; she used to be called 'the Lady of Gion.'"
"The Lady of Gion? Seems to me I've heard that name before."
"The Emperor Shirakawa gave her to Tadamori of the Heike as his wife. They had several sons, and the eldest was Kiyomori. Only a few people know this, and Ko-Kannon made me promise to tell no one."
Juro and Tota slapped their saddles and exclaimed: "Of all things! We shan't be going to Eguchi with Jiro again. We didn't know he was on such friendly terms with Ko-Kannon. But, look here, was she telling the truth? This is serious gossip to be retelling about someone so influential."
"Serious, perhaps, and not quite improbable. Even General Yoshitomo himself, they say, was the son of a beautiful dancing-girl."
"That's it. I remember—the stories about Kiyomori's real father."
"Anyway, we did have a good time at Eguchi."
"Yes, but what will it be like in the capital?"
"There's no predicting about tomorrow, and not much point in mere warriors like us trying to guess. It's certain, however, that the general has been anxious to know the exact date of Kiyomori's departure for Kumano, and we had strict orders to return when it became known."
"Look, it's hailing! Let's whip up our horses and get warm." Behind them, road, paddies, and hills were soon a white blur.
CHAPTER XX
A PILGRIMAGE TO KUMANO
Tsunemunй, the courtier, was again spending the day at the Vice-Councilor's suburban villa. Nearly everyone in court circles knew of the close friendship between the two, but for appearance's sake Tsunemunй explained that his frequent visits were to give Fujiwara Nobuyori lessons in football. Those who knew that the courtier was adroit at putting people to his own uses carefully avoided involvement in Tsunemunй's affairs, but he, none the less, never lacked a following. The ex-Emperor Goshirakawa favored him as a partner at football, and the Emperor Nijo was partial to him, while Nobuyori, the Vice-Councilor, made Tsunemunй his boon companion and confidant.
"Tsunemunй, what could be keeping General Narichika and Councilor Moronaka?"
"They should be here soon. I can't think what would delay them, except they may come late and separately to make themselves inconspicuous. . . . And have you sent word to Korekata?"
"My uncle promises to come tonight, his duties with the Police Commission understandably keep him busy during the day."
"If that's the case, we might as well go on practicing."
"No, I'm tired and have had enough for today. If I'm overtired, my head won't be clear for the discussions later on."
Tsunemunй and Nobuyori were in the football enclosure, where for a time the thwacking of a football resounded with unusual sharpness in the wintry air. They were now resting at the foot of a tree and conversing in low tones. Some of the younger courtiers had been meeting here lately with increasing frequency on the pretext of holding poetry contests and football matches, and the subject for talk at these gatherings was Shinzei.
For almost three years, since the end of the Hogen War, Shinzei's authority had gone unchallenged. He had risen from an obscure court post to one of undisguised absolutism, and this not unnaturally earned him enemies. In power he was bold, as he once had been self-effacing, dispensing policies with a sure hand. There was nevertheless a growing belief among some courtiers that if he were not soon curbed, there would be no telling to what lengths he would go. With the end of the fighting, Shinzei had seen to it that peace was restored without delay. Sweeping reforms were carried out in rapid succession at his direction. New laws governing provincial taxes were enacted, and the carrying of arms in the city precincts prohibited. At his orders the ablest were picked for office, and to him was given the authority to mete out punishment and dispense rewards. His achievements notwithstanding, Shinzei's measures were not acceptable to all, and there were some who questioned his dictatorial powers.
Whether it is the tyrant who creates conflict, or conflict that breeds the tyrant, there was no denying that a despot arrogating extraordinary privileges to himself had appeared overnight and placed himself at the head of the state. Though circumstances were in his favor and his astuteness unquestioned, those who were dissatisfied argued that Shinzei owed his success largely to Kiyomori's military backing; this alone was enough reason for the Genji to take umbrage, and it began to be said that the interests of the state made it imperative to oust Shinzei and his ally eventually.
Out of these frequent meetings and secret talks at Nobuyori's villa there emerged a fantastic plot aimed at Shinzei. It was to be realized within a year or two. Toward the end of November 1159, however, when there were rumors that Kiyomori planned to go on a pilgrimage to Kumano Shrine, a seven-day journey from the capital, the malcontents agreed that the chance to strike had come— an opportunity which might not recur later.
Nobuyori's villa had been the scene of a gathering on the previous day, and the leaders in the plot—Tsunemunй and Nobuyori—had called for another meeting today.
The afternoon sun slanted ruddily across the football enclosure, where five or six men were seated on the ground near the goal post. General Narichika and Councilor Moronaka had now joined the group, which appeared to be engaged in a harmless discussion of football. But they were occupied with something more urgent.
". . . So the 4th of December is the date of Kiyomori's departure for Kumano Shrine?"
"There's no mistake about that, for I got it from one who is to be trusted and who is a frequent visitor at Rokuhara," General Narichika replied.
"The 4th—that means we have little time left. . . ."
The plotters shivered unconsciously at the thought of what lay before them. There was no question now of wavering or withdrawing.
"We had every reason to believe that the pilgrimage would take place in early spring, but this change in plan means we shall have to hurry with our preparations. In any case, further discussions will have to be carried on indoors."
The company withdrew to the house; the shutters were closed and guards posted along the corridors and galleries to prevent any intrusions. With the appearance of Nobuyori's uncle, Korekata, former Captain of the Bodyguard of the Right, after sundown, the talks took on a more definite character. As an officer of the Police Commission, Korekata was charged with the maintenance of peace and order in the capital. His authority and Yoshitomo's Genji soldiers, the conspirators argued, were an invincible combination.
Master Red-Nose, the owner of an imposing establishment at the entrance to the city markets near the gate to Fifth Avenue, was a parvenu, people said. He employed a large number of assistants —men and women—in his warehouses, which were well stocked with cotton goods, dyestuffs, combs, cosmetics, and perfumes from China. Master Red-Nose was no less than a merchant trader to the ladies of the Court. Bamboku was his real name, but he had come by his nickname because of that feature, the color of an overripe strawberry, which embellished the center of his face. A depression at the side of his nose—the scars left by the pox with which he had been afflicted in childhood—caused his nose to tilt upward, and what might have been a damaging hallmark in any other man in his forties proved to be otherwise for Bamboku, for his nose gave him an a
ir of disarming amiability. Had it been a well-shaped nose with no nonsense about it, it might well have made the beholder wary by allowing his eyes to stray over a face that was decidedly cunning. He was rarely addressed by his real name, but passed as Master Nose among his fellow traders, who even more frequently spoke of him as Red-Nose, or just simply the Nose—so much so, that it was not unusual to find people who were ignorant of his real name.
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