"Bamboku, you seem to grow more and more prosperous."
"Ah, the honorable Tsunemunй! Have you come for a morning stroll through the markets?"
"Oh, no, I was at the Vice-Councilor's villa last night—the usual poetry contest, you know."
"On your way home, then?"
"You already seem busy at this early hour. Let me speak to you inside—a request to make. . . ."
"No need for apologies. . . . Now, this way, please."
Bamboku led the way through the open shop front to a narrow passage, past a stableyard and a row of warehouses, to an inner court
"You might have come through the gate to the courtyard."
"I found it locked."
"Now, that was very careless of me. . . . Here," Bamboku called in passing his wife's bedchamber, "we have a caller, the honorable Tsunemunй” and continued to lead his guest across the court to a room that received the full light of the winter morning's sun.
"You merchants have fine houses—sunny and cheerful."
"Not at all, sir, nothing like your fine mansions."
"You're mistaken there. Tradition, social position, this keeping up of appearances, complicate our lives, and the less chance we have of seeing the sun. The Emperor and the court ladies spend their days in candlelit rooms. Better not get any richer and build a larger house."
"Ah, no, sir, I can hardly be counted among the wealthy merchants here on Fifth Avenue. I have a few ambitions, though. . . . You need not be concerned for me, sir, and I certainly hope to continue receiving your patronage."
"I heard you made quite a fortune right after the war."
"That's how it seems to people, sir, but far from it."
Tsunemunй laughed. "No fear, Bamboku, I haven't come for a loan."
"But, sir, should you ask for the impossible, I shall be only too glad to try to meet with your wishes."
"Just flattery, I suppose?"
"How could I to my benefactor?"
Just then Bamboku's comely wife, younger than he by some twenty years, appeared, having completed her morning toilette.
"Welcome, indeed, sir! You come early for a cold morning."
"Well, well, Umeno! How are you—getting on nicely together, I hope?"
Umeno blushed charmingly and Bamboku gazed at his wife with a fatuous, doting look.
"Some nice little cakes or something—and some herb tea?" Bamboku said to his wife, who departed with a demure air.
Bamboku's wife, the granddaughter of a councilor who had come down in the world, had been employed in Tsunemunй's household until the past year, when Tsunemunй had arranged a match for her. Bamboku, at one time a petty clerk at the Court, a post offering at best little advancement beyond a stewardship over the lower order of menials, had resigned from his position ten years before, bought a small shop in the market-place, and turned merchant, and through his former connections did business with the Court and the ladies. Tsunemunй, who first met Bamboku at the Regent's villa, took a fancy to the droll merchant, who always accepted good-naturedly the constant jesting at his expense. Finding him ambitious and energetic like himself, Tsunemunй patronized the shrewd Bamboku and at the end of the war, when there was a demand for numerous commodities, quietly saw to it that Bamboku was commissioned to supply the Court with building-materials for the new palace. These business transactions had resulted in Bamboku's erecting a fine house and a row of warehouses at the gate by Fifth Avenue.
His establishment completed, Bamboku found he needed a wife to manage his household. As he claimed descent from the nobility, Bamboku aspired for the hand of one from the higher circles of society—say, the daughter of a courtier who had seen better days. Moreover, his long years at the Court had kindled in him secret ambitions to live like a gentleman. The desired spouse, as it happened, was provided by Tsunemunй, whom Bamboku in his gratitude declared was his lifelong benefactor. Bamboku, however, anticipated paying dearly for this particular favor, and this morning it came to him instantly that the day of reckoning had come. "You had a request. Now tell me what it is. I'm more than willing to give all I own to accommodate you."
"No, Bamboku, I'm not here for money or anything of that nature. On the contrary, I'm proposing that you make some large profits."
"Well, that sounds too good to be true at this time of the year."
"Not too good to be true. But you will have to promise to agree to this, or refuse before I even disclose the matter."
"Naturally, I cannot refuse. Is it a highly secret matter?"
"Bamboku, will you first see that the shutters are closed so we shan't be interrupted?"
Tsunemunй proceeded to disclose a part of the plot to Bamboku. Detecting the gleam of interest in the Nose, he added, as he fixed him with a searching look, "If you go through with this, I assure you you shall receive whatever you ask for. Bamboku, will you let us have the use of your house? We cannot risk a meeting outside the city gates. I believe this bustling market quarter is the safest place for us. And, furthermore, most of us will come in disguise."
Tsunemunй had a further proposal to make. "In these years since the end of the Hogen War, there has been a strict ban on arms, and we lack the necessary weapons, so you are to get hold of all we require. All very secretly, you understand."
Tsunemunй did not leave until noontime. Bamboku's wife, meanwhile, prepared and served a handsome repast including a flask of flavorsome wine from China, bought in the market from merchants who traded regularly in goods from across the seas. When Tsunemunй was ready to go, he discreetly departed by a rear gate and made his way to the river, where his carriage waited for him. He found the carriage-ox dozing in the winter sun and the ox-boy sprawled asleep in the grass. Tsunemunй gazed across the river to the walls and trees of Rokuhara on the other bank.
Since the end of the Hogen War, Kiyomori had been saying: "It's time I made a pilgrimage to Kumano Shrine to offer thanks. This year I shall go without fail."
His last trip had been in 1154, the year after his father Tadamori's death.
Kiyomori's stepmother, Ariko, was visiting at Rokuhara when Kiyomori remarked half in jest: "I haven't been to Kumano Shrine for so long that I'm sure the gods will punish me."
"Kiyomori, you are too irreverent," Ariko said severely. "If you continue to make such blasphemous remarks, you will some day have reason to regret it. Your good father, Tadamori, was a deeply pious man, but you don't resemble him in the least. You must remember that you are after all the head of the clan and you must for that reason take heed of your conduct in such matters."
Ariko's rebuke silenced Kiyomori. He had never felt at ease with her. Since her husband's death, Ariko had taken the vows of a nun and gone to live in a place north of the capital, and there passed her days in religious devotions. Not infrequently she came to visit at Rokuhara, and at such times Kiyomori felt as though he were a wayward child summoned to receive her kindly meant advice. What chastened him most was his stepmother's habit of saying at every other word "your dear father, the late Tadamori." Not only Kiyomori, but his wife, Tokiko, also stood in awe of Ariko, who reserved her approval and open affection for her eldest grandson, Shigemori. In him she saw an exemplary young man, who, unlike Kiyomori, was not only punctilious but gentler and more attentive to her than anyone else in the household.
"You should before anything else make this pilgrimage to Kumano. Take Shigemori with you. Pray for forgiveness for your past impieties and ask for a blessing for yourself and the rest of the household."
Ariko earnestly begged Kiyomori to go to Kumano Shrine, and in this he was willing to comply. Since he had been detailed to supervise the building of a temple at Shirakawa, he could not leave until the dedication was over. Throughout the autumn Shinzei constantly consulted Kiyomori on matters relating to various civil reforms, and though Kiyomori found little time to attend to his personal affairs, he welcomed the opportunity to get a taste of politics under Shinzei's tutelage and expected a slackening in his duties by
the middle of December. When he mentioned his intention of going to Kumano, Shinzei approved of the plan wholeheartedly and even sent Kiyomori a parting gift.
A few days before the date of his departure Kiyomori sent his brother Tsunemori ahead to Eguchi to arrange for lodgings for the party and to hire boats that would take them part of the way to Kumano. On the 4th of December, Kiyomori, accompanied by his eldest son, Shigemori, and Mokunosukй and a company of fifty retainers, left Rokuhara. Their first night's stop was at Eguchi, which they reached by sailing down the Yodo River. There was a choice of a land route or a sea route to Kumano, but with a large party the trip by water was usually preferred, for a large sailing vessel would carry the entire party most of the way.
That same evening Kiyomori arrived at Eguchi, where Tsunemori awaited him. Since a party of more than fifty could not all be lodged in one house, Kiyomori and Shigemori stayed at separate inns. Kiyomori, who had taken a vow of abstinence until the pilgrimage was over, prepared to retire early without the drinking and merrymaking customary at Eguchi. Only a few lights burned in the silent inn.
"Master—my apologies for disturbing you—"
"Ah, Old One, is it you? What is it?"
"Your brother has sent me with a message."
Mokunosukй knelt in the adjoining room and studied Kiyomori's face to see how he might receive the announcement.
"It's a bitterly cold night, Old One; better come in and close the door after you."
Seeing that his master was not out of sorts, Mokunosukй came forward and knelt before Kiyomori and began to relate what Tsunemori had told him.
Mokunosukй was now eighty, the same retainer whom Kiyomori since boyhood had always addressed affectionately as "Old One." From the old retainer, a spectator of human affairs for so long, who now viewed them as dispassionately as one might the flight of a wasp or a butterfly, or the slow growth of a tree or flower, came a low monotonous recital, uttered as it were by a mask crowned with snowy locks.
But Kiyomori was startled by what he heard. He was told that the proprietress or this house at which they were staying was the widow of a courtier and had become a Buddhist nun. There were many who had known her in days gone by; she had been a famous dancing-girl in the capital and later became the mistress of the Emperor Shirakawa, who gave her to Tadamori of the Heike as his wife. She, who had had several sons by Tadamori, had been known as the Lady of Gion.
Kiyomori struggled for a moment with a confusion of emotions that the recital called up in him and then turned a bleak face to Mokunosukй. Tsunemori had played a trick on him, Kiyomori felt. She was his own mother, that lovely mother of his who had forsaken her impoverished husband and sons so long ago. He had long ceased to think of her, and refused to think of her as his mother, but Tsunemori, it seemed, had never forgotten her. He had somehow traced her whereabouts and brought her to Tadamori's deathbed, and even since then had apparently been seeing her, concealing his meetings from both Kiyomori and their stepmother, Ariko.
"Old One, tell Tsunemori this– "
"Yes. . . ."
"Tsunemori may have had such a mother, but she is not mine. I have no desire to see her. There's no reason why I should see her. Tell him so."
"You have no desire to see her?"
"Why should I have feelings one way or the other, Old One? You should know that better than anyone else. Why rake over the ashes of the past?"
"I told you this with all that in mind."
"Then why did you have to come to me at all? You have ruined the first night of my trip."
"I feared that I would, but your brother seemed to feel that as you were on your way to Kumano, it would not be amiss, in memory of your late father, to comfort your aging mother, and it seemed to me that he spoke truly."
"What! Dare you insist on talking? I tell you I have no such mother, you addlepate! Whoever or whatever she is, let Tsunemori go and talk to her if he thinks it will do him good. I'm tired— sleepy. Where is my bedchamber?"
The serving-lad who sat dozing behind Kiyomori suddenly awoke and blinked in astonishment at the sound of his master's voice. Rising quickly, he led the way with a lamp.
All the inn servants long since were abed. About the hour Kiyomori should have been asleep, a figure stealthily crept from his room. Mokunosukй, who was still awake, watched it pass along the corridor, fumble at a shutter, and then unlatch a door. Suspicious, Mokunosukй spoke to the figure. Kiyomori swung round startled and stared intently in the direction from which the voice came; in the darkness he suddenly grinned.
". . . Was it you, Old One?"
"My master, what makes you go out into the garden on a cold night like this?"
"The first night in a strange place leaves me wide-awake. I somehow couldn't get to sleep. To tell you the truth, Old One, I've reconsidered what I said. Do you know where it is?"
"Know what, my master?"
"The apartments of the lady of whom Tsunemori spoke."
"You have decided to see her after all?"
"Umm—yes." Kiyomori scratched the back of his head sheepishly. "After all, when I come to think of it, she must be nearly sixty. Here I am, going on forty-three—and it's ridiculous to let the past keep me from seeing her, particularly when I'm staying under the same roof. I begin to feel that I may regret it if I leave without seeing her."
"Ah, that sounds quite sensible."
"Old One, you do think that it would be better to do so?"
"I had hoped from the very beginning that you would feel as you do now. It would be just what your father would have wanted you to do."
"True. He was no bigoted quibbler like me. Just before he died Tsunemori brought her secretly to my father's bedside and I listened to what he said to her, she who had been so false to him."
"Yes, I know all that happened that morning."
"Old One, I wept as I eavesdropped—at his great love, at what he said to one who had so cruelly injured him."
"In the master's eyes she was one to be deeply pitied. He must have felt so in the long years before they finally parted."
"I can hardly hope to be like him. But I am a man and in my forties. . . . Whatever has happened, there's no denying that she bore me—this Kiyomori. I can at least follow Tsunemori's filial example and meet her this time. Take me to her, Old One."
That night Kiyomori saw his mother, with whom Tsunemori had already been spending the evening.
She was not as Kiyomori had expected to find her. She appeared to be neither sad nor lonely, but on the contrary seemed to enjoy her present life. The furnishings of her room reflected the elegance and comfort in which she had always delighted.
The Heike Story Page 32