The Heike Story

by Eiji Yoshikawa

  "Would you rather have me go on a matter of such importance?"

  "No, that would make it appear that we are desperate. Hanzo will do."

  Kiyomori quickly wrote a letter and sent Hanzo off with it. He then told the chief priest that an unexpected summons from the Court called him back to the capital, and added: "As we start before dawn, I must beg your indulgence and allow us to attend the early morning services."

  It was still dark when the blaze of cooking-fires lighted up the shrine yard, and long before the first birds were heard, the shrine resounded to rhythmic clapping and the chanting of prayers.

  Clad in full armor, Kiyomori, Shigemori, and their soldiers and retainers wound their way slowly north. Each man wore a twig of yew somewhere in his armor. It was customary for pilgrims to carry a twig of yew, sacred to Kiribe Shrine, as a charm.

  The priests, who had not yet heard of the uprising in Kyoto, thought that Kiyomori had been summoned by the usual duties of his office and presented him and the others with large branches, which were secured to their saddles. Kiyomori and his men stared curiously at the fragrant globules of mandarin oranges clustering golden among the dark-green leaves. What an addition they would be, Kiyomori thought, to the New Year's feast at Court, where this strange new fruit would cause the courtiers to marvel. Then he wrenched off one of the fruits, peeled it, and tasted it.

  "Here, it's delicious!" he cried, turning suddenly in his saddle. "Shigemori—Old One—taste them. There's little chance we'll get back to the capital with these. Here, men, share your oranges among you."

  Kiyomori tore off fruit after fruit and tossed them back to the soldiers, who scrambled for them with eager shouts, fighting over them like excited children. The sun was now well above the horizon, and the chill morning air was broken by the sound of laughter which greeted the shower of golden fruit.

  Past hamlet after hamlet they rode until sundown, when Kiyomori ordered a halt. The following morning they crossed a mountain pass and pressed on until they reached the Kii River. There they were overtaken by twenty armed horsemen dispatched by the chief priest of Kumano Shrine in answer to Kiyomori's letter.

  That same day, as the party were on their way through a defile, they were met by a local chieftain and his thirty retainers. In reply to Kiyomori's questions why they had come, the chieftain answered:

  "My father was deeply indebted to your late father, Tadamori, who gave us his protection. I heard that you had suddenly decided to return to the capital because of an uprising there and came to give you warning."

  The chieftain then went on to say that rumors had reached the capital that Kiyomori had interrupted his pilgrimage to Kumano. Yoshitomo's son, Yoshihira, with three thousand horse, had arrived at Naniwa (Osaka) and was deploying his soldiers in an arc toward the south, in wait for Kiyomori.

  A hot surge of blood raced through Kiyomori's veins. Shigemori's eyes grew tense as they swept the sky to the north. Kiyomori's intentions were now clear to all his followers, and Kiyomori realized that the moment had come when they might yet decide to desert him.

  "Here, rest your horses. Finish the rest of the oranges. There are not many left. Divide them among you. Let every man have at least a taste," he ordered, and added, laughing: "Perhaps, your last chance."

  His eyes searched the faces around him for the effect his words might have had on them.

  Kiyomori's men formed a ring round him on the moor.

  "I came thus far planning to cross to Shikoku Island, but have changed my mind. There's no safety anywhere, even if I cross to China itself."

  Kiyomori spoke without any sign of being troubled.

  "If we turn our backs on the unrest in the capital we shall be safe, but warriors elsewhere will despise the Heike as cowards and refuse us their wholehearted support. It is even more possible that they will rally to the Genji."

  The soldiers listened to him intently. From their looks it was plain that no one would follow his suggestion, and Kiyomori suddenly felt shamed by the quizzical glances turned on him. He realized that he was risking his life as much as they, and that they trusted him. Had they intended to desert him, Kiyomori reflected, they had already had ample opportunity to do so.

  "I have said enough. This is no time for me to be talking. Though we're only a hundred horse, I am certain that if we are determined, we shall succeed in reaching the capital. And when it becomes known that I am back at Rokuhara, our friends will rally to us. What do you think?"

  Loud ayes greeted Kiyomori, for every soldier was anxious about the wife and children he had left in the capital.

  Kiyomori continued: "One difficulty still lies before us. I have been told that Yoshihira of the Genji and three thousand horse are lying in wait for us farther north. They are thirty to our one."

  It was now the soldiers' turn to persuade Kiyomori of their determination to return to the capital, and they assured him that they were ready to face unnumbered enemies, to follow him wherever he led, and to show how mighty were the arms of the Heike.

  Kiyomori needed no more assurances. Whatever doubts he had had about his soldiers vanished. He then ordered his men to feed and water their horses, cook their evening meal, and look to the cords of their sandals and armor and prepare to charge through enemy territory that same night.

  They rested and waited until sundown before starting, and the last rays of the sun slanted golden across the cavalcade as it moved slowly north along the coast.

  "We're close now," Kiyomori warned, sending three riders ahead to reconnoiter. When they had gone some distance, they saw the dull glow of fires on the moor and guessed that they had come upon the enemy encampment. Death now lay in their path. Faces grew strained, and the fingers on bows seemed paralyzed.

  "Gather round. Draw up close," Kiyomori ordered in a low voice. "Stay together; charge for the thinnest spot in their line and break through. Remember—no hand-to-hand fighting! Our aim is to get to the capital. Shigemori, don't get separated from the rest," Kiyomori warned, turning anxiously to his son.

  Shigemori had once heard his uncle Tokitada remark that Kiyomori had not the physique of a warrior. Though Kiyomori sat well in the saddle, Shigemori had lately noticed that his father was beginning to get stout and lacked the lightness and agility for single combat.

  "No fear, Father. Take care that you don't lose your stirrups when we start galloping."

  "Confound you!" Kiyomori laughed. "How dare you talk to your father like that! Keep quiet and get into line. Don't touch whip to your horse until I give the signal. You're not used to fighting, remember. Those who brag before the battle are most apt to lose their heads when they meet the enemy."

  As the horsemen moved forward slowly, they spied figures galloping toward them with flaming torches and brought their bows into position with a shout, but Kiyomori waved them down.

  "Hold! Wait! I hear them calling. Let's hear what they have to say."

  Several warriors rode up hallooing eagerly: "Are you soldiers of Kiyomori of the Heike on your way to the capital? Is Lord Harima among you?"

  Kiyomori spurred his horse forward. "This is I, Kiyomori of the Heike. Who are you? Are you not Genji?"

  A warrior quickly dismounted and approached Kiyomori.

  "We are not Genji, but come from Isй. We heard that your lordship was in great need."

  "Heike of Isй?"

  "We are Heike whom your father once befriended. We have never forgotten his favors to us and have held ourselves in readiness to come to your aid."

  "Ah, Isй—the cradle of the Heike!"

  "A thousand have left Isй—two hundred for Rokuhara. Some five hundred more are on their way there by now. Three hundred horse have come to meet you and give you escort."

  "The gods be thanked! Those troops of which we were warned were not the enemy, then? I take no credit for this. I owe all this to my father, who in his lifetime sowed the seeds of this good fortune," Kiyomori cried in his gratitude.

  There was great rejoicing t
hat night when Kiyomori rode into the friendly camp. Before dawn they were once more on their way, and Kiyomori, looking back from his saddle, felt his heart swell at the sight of the sun flashing on that host of four hundred—no small company.

  The sun was still high when the company reached Fushimi Shrine, several leagues south of the capital, where it was customary for pilgrims returning from Kumano to offer the yew leaves they had brought with them from Kiribe Shrine. Kiyomori called for a halt long enough to offer prayers for victory. As he bowed his head to pray, the vanishing tail of a fox seemed to dart before his closed eyes; he suddenly recalled that hunting trip so many years ago when he had stumbled on three foxes, and Kiyomori, who jeered at superstitions, longed to believe that the gods were on his side.

  Kiyomori and his troops reached Rokuhara that night. No lights shone anywhere, and the streets were deserted, though it was nearly the end of the year. Only the sound of dogs howling at the winter moon broke the stillness. With the news of Kiyomori's approach, however, the pent-up feelings of the inhabitants burst forth in cries of relief. The old and young, men and women, soldiers and servants poured from every house into the streets, waving and shouting wildly.

  "Tokiko! Tokiko!"

  Kiyomori rode up to the two-storied gate, surrounded by a sea of faces. He caught sight of a few members of his household, and called out his wife's name.

  Tokiko, who had been waiting outside in the cold with her children, stood holding the hem of her robes up out of the mud. At the sound of her name, she let fall the folds of her skirts, stumbled forward, and clung to the reins of Kiyomori's horse.

  "Welcome home! Safe!"

  "Ah, here you are," Kiyomori cried, searching her face anxiously.

  "The children—our good mother?" he added quickly.

  "They have been waiting impatiently for you."

  "Are they all well? A miracle this—a miracle indeed!"

  Kiyomori rode into the courtyard, where his stepmother and children waited beside the entrance. The darkened space was soon alive with the sound of running feet.

  On learning that his stepmother, Tokiko, the children, and all the women in the household had gone that same morning to the hills to hide, but had returned when they heard that he was on his way back, Kiyomori frowned.

  "Who ordered you to return? The very opposite of what should have been done. You may stay the night, but at dawn you must all be off to the hills again. I cannot have you look on the horrors to come. The worst is ahead of us, and Rokuhara may soon be a smoking ruin."

  On the day that Kiyomori returned to Rokuhara, Nobuyori and Korekata had called a council which all courtiers were ordered to attend on pain of death. Many, none the less, failed to come. Though news had reached Kyoto that warriors from Isй and neighboring provinces were on their way to Rokuhara, and Kiyomori himself was arriving soon, Nobuyori was less concerned with these reports than the sight of the empty seats at the council.

  Nobuyori occupied the dais of the Great Hall, staring down uncertainly at the rows of courtiers, when a late-comer appeared, not by the usual way, but by crossing the plaza and mounting the stairs leading up to the hall. His five attendants, in cloaks thrown over their armor and long swords, waited at one of the gates. Nobuyori's cheeks blanched under the powder as the newcomer, his uncle, Mitsuyori, stared grimly at the high dais.

  "Alas, an extraordinary sight! Do I see the high seat occupied by dandies and men-about-town, and the rightful occupants cowering below? Is this an entertainment in a teahouse with dancing-girls? Can this be called the Court?" he burst out bitterly.

  Nobuyori hung his head in confusion at his uncle's words, while the others looked on in consternation. Mitsuyori, Korekata's elder brother, who rarely appeared at court councils, was held in awe by the nobles.

  A courtier left his seat near Nobuyori and came forward. "Sir, we have been expecting you. Will you not be seated?"

  "Then this is the Court, after all?"

  "Yes—"

  "If this is the Court, there is an order of precedence. Who is that painted dandy up there?"

  "The new General of the Guards, Minister Nobuyori."

  "I have never heard of the man. There is no General Nobuyori of the Guards. Possibly you speak of the Vice-Councilor Nobuyori?"

  "He was lately appointed."

  "Absurd! Where is his majesty, who alone makes appointments?" Mitsuyori inquired, smiting his thigh angrily with the flat of his wooden mace of office and pointing it at Nobuyori.

  "Nobuyori, you are occupying the high seat; where do you propose to seat me, who precede you in rank?"

  "As for today's council—what do you intend to discuss? And you, gentlemen, why should those who absent themselves today deserve punishment by death?"

  "His majesty alone presides over such councils as this. Where is he? Will no one answer me? Strange and marvelous, indeed!" Mitsuyori exclaimed as he strode from the hall toward a wing of the Palace.

  "Korekata, what are you doing here," he exclaimed to his brother, whom he found cowering in an inner apartment.

  "Is it you—my brother?"

  " 'Brother'? You dare to call me 'brother'?"

  "Yes—"

  "Then, indeed, am I disgraced, for your guilt is my guilt. This is more than I can bear."

  "I have done wrong."

  "You acknowledge it, then? What led you to do this?"

  "You, an officer of the Police Commission, let yourself be taken to view Shinzei's head? You never stopped to think of what people would say of you? I shrink at the rumors about you. It doesn't seem possible that my own brother could commit such folly. I doubted it all along."

  "Our name has never been dishonored until now and you are the first who deserves the name of fool! Think how you have disgraced the name of our dead father—brought shame on our aged mother. What led you to such madness?"

  "My own stupidity. I have watched Nobuyori these several days and now regret my folly."

  "If you speak the truth, then see that his majesty is released without a moment's delay and taken to safety."

  "It shall be done."

  "I will not have you abetting these deeds. Do you understand Korekata? Ah, Korekata," Mitsuyori added pityingly, "why must you risk your life so foolishly?"

  With Mitsuyori's unexpected appearance, the council broke up in confusion.

  The 19th of December drew to a close. That night news reached the Imperial Guards that Kiyomori had returned to Rokuhara, and the rumor spread that Kiyomori was mustering his fighting men.

  That night Nobuyori, who had taken up residence in the Palace, could not sleep for anxiety and sent a gentlewoman to Korekata's apartments, begging him to appear. To his surprise, he was told that Korekata was not there. He next summoned Tsunemunй, but the courtier was not to be found at the Palace.

  In the meantime dawn came without the expected attack from Rokuhara. Birds began to call to one another from the frosted treetops in the Palace gardens. Nobuyori, who waited for the sun to rise, fell into a sound sleep.

  CHAPTER XXIII

  THE EMPEROR KIDNAPPED

  The 20th, 21st, and 22nd of December were passed in un certainty at the Imperial Palace where the coming and going of armed men in the bleak gardens replaced the customary bustle preceding the New Year. There was constant talk that Kiyomori would attack the Palace. At Rokuhara the strengthening of its defenses continued as word went round that the Genji would march from the Palace on the Heike stronghold. Yet neither side showed any sign of taking the offensive.