The Heike Story

by Eiji Yoshikawa

  A supporting flank under Yoshihira suddenly fell back without warning toward the river. Yoshitomo stiffened with rage; casting away his bow, he rode up to the gate, sword in hand, and challenged Kiyomori. Just then a stampeding movement among the horsemen who pressed in on him from every side swept Yoshitomo away toward the river.

  Fresh troops of Heike were now arriving by the highway and bearing down on Yoshitomo's forces from the north. While Yorimasa's horsemen made inroads on Yoshitomo's southern flank, a formidable company of mounted bowmen suddenly appeared on the opposite bank and opened an attack on the Genji. This threat from an unexpected quarter had caused Yoshihira to wheel in the direction of the river. Yoshitomo's main force, which had stormed its way to the very gates of Rokuhara, now saw itself completely surrounded, and in panic began a headlong retreat north along the Kamo River. Though harried by the Heike on the river front, Yoshihira and his band of soldiers held their ground until they heard Yoshitomo's orders to take flight.

  Yoshitomo cast a despairing look round on his trusted liegemen and captains and cried: "The battle is lost! This is the fate of those born to take up arms! My end has come, but fly, each of you, for your lives!"

  And when his two younger sons cried they would stay with him even in death, Yoshihira, the eldest of Yoshitomo's sons, came and rebuked them, saying: "I alone shall remain as rear guard. It is what I want above all else. You and our father must fly for your lives."

  Then Yoshitomo's captains entreated him to leave with them, saying: "This is not the moment for us Genji to die; if we go into hiding now, a day will come when we shall wipe out this shame."

  Guarded by his loyal captains, Yoshitomo and his sons began their retreat through the enemy's line; harassed on every side, they fought their way north toward the hills of the upper Kamo, losing several men at every encounter with the Heike. And when they reached the safety of a snowbound settlement in the hills, Yoshitomo, looking round, saw how his valiant company of fifty had shrunk to fourteen. Unable to contain his grief and remorse, he wept at the thought of how he had brought ruin on them all, condemning them to a future dark with uncertainty. These hills held out only starvation and wandering. What would become of the loved ones these men had left in the capital? Where were they now? What, indeed, had become of his own—Tokiwa? She had refused to leave Kyoto in order to be near him. Had she after all fled for the country with their three sons as he had entreated her to do? He envisioned her stricken with grief at the news of his defeat.

  Their horses stumbled with weariness through the snow; as the party made its way up into the hills, Yoshitomo brought his horse to a stop to gaze back into the distance. Far below in the gathering dusk every pagoda and rooftop in the capital gleamed with silver, and all over the city the glow of fires and dark columns of smoke marked the site of burning buildings.

  CHAPTER XXV

  SNOWSTORM

  Yoshitomo was anxious to reach the other side of Mount Hiei before morning, for in the country of Mino on the farther side of Lake Biwa were Genji who would give him shelter and assistance. So the party redoubled their pace northward, following the course of the Takano River, past Hasй, and east over the pass at Yokokawa, until they found themselves at Katado, near the southern end of the lake.

  Scouring winds lashed the lake into an angry sea when two vessels, bearing the party and a few horses, buffeted their way across the water in the early morning. Sullen clouds hung low over the northern half of the sky, threatening more snow. Some time after midday the fugitives finally beached among the withered reeds on the eastern shore of the lake where the snow lay deeper than in the capital. They stepped ashore silently and stopped to watch the flight of wild geese across a desolate sky. Two of the party then set out for a near-by fishers' settlement to barter some arms for food, while the rest gathered fagots for a fire and waited.

  Late that afternoon, warmed and fed, Yoshitomo and his men discussed the next stage of their journey, which they agreed should be resumed after sundown, when there was less danger of pursuit. Then seven of Yoshitomo's captains and retainers proposed to leave Yoshitomo and travel separately, pointing out the safety of journeying in smaller groups. As sundown approached, they each bade Yoshitomo farewell, promising to rejoin him when they reached eastern Japan.

  When night came, Yoshitomo, his three sons, and four captains mounted their horses and hurried along a river until they reached a highway over which they continued their flight. The black sky brooded over them, and on every side the mountains rose gaunt and precipitous. Hamlet after hamlet went by, asleep under heavy shrouds of snow; no lights shone to guide the fugitives. No human sounds reached their ears; all life seemed to have been quenched. It was a perfect night for flight, and the small band quickened their pace, until a storm rose and howled around them in blinding swirls of snow.

  Meanwhile, on the night that Yoshitomo made his way through the hills to Lake Biwa, Vice-Councilor Nobuyori, prime agent in the plot to snatch power from Kiyomori, escaped to Ninna-ji Temple, north of the city gates, where nearly fifty of his fellow noblemen and courtiers had already taken refuge. There, before the night was out, Nobuyori was carried off under arrest by Kiyomori's soldiers, and on the following day beheaded with other enemies of the throne.

  On the 29th of December, the second day after the fighting had ended, when Kyoto had settled once more to its customary peaceful pursuits, Kiyomori was ordered to make an inspection of the imperial residence and other state buildings. Astrologists were consulted and an auspicious date chosen for the Emperor's return to the Imperial Palace. For Kiyomori the visit of inspection was in the nature of a triumphal march and he ordered his brothers and sons and captains and all who could be spared at Rokuhara to accompany him in a pageant of magnificently armored warriors and richly caparisoned horses.

  Along the route that stretched from Gojo Bridge and through the main avenues of the capital, excited crowds jostled one another and goggled at the splendid sight of colorful horsemen in full battle dress, company after company of bowmen, foot-soldiers all in armor, and troops of children in their holiday best, who brought up the rear.

  During the fighting the capital's poorest—its hordes of beggars and thieves, its numberless destitute and criminals—had invaded the Palace and made it their home; they rioted through its halls and state rooms for three days and nights, ransacked the storehouses for food, mimicked the courtiers in robes and crowns, and in a travesty of banqueting and merrymaking filled the Palace with grotesque sights and sounds. When the news of Kiyomori's approaching visit reached them, there began a panic-stricken exodus. From every cranny of the Palace there streamed a frightened mob of scarecrows, too numerous for the patrols to deal with or the city's jails to hold, until at Kiyomori's orders they were herded back to the Palace grounds and set to cleaning it. There were no threats of punishment and each man was promised a small portion of rice when his task was accomplished.

  "Yes, he knows what it is to starve. He knows," one wretch remarked to another over his broom. "That's Kiyomori of the Heike. I used to know him in the old days when they called him 'Heita.' I'm telling you the truth, too. The penniless son of the Squint-Eyed One—that's what they called his father—I used to see him in rags along the Shiokoji, and in the Thieves' Market by the nettle tree. I'm not saying he was one of us scoundrels, mind you, and I've talked to him, too. And whenever I had wine, I offered him some, didn't I?"

  "So he's known hard times, too, has he?"

  "That's what I'm telling you. He may look like a lord, but he's one of us, you can be sure."

  "And he wasn't above drinking your wine?"

  "Well, no, I won't go so far as to say that, but what I mean is that we were friendly, as you might say. That's why he understands our sort."

  "There they come!"

  "Who—where?"

  "The lord of Rokuhara himself—the parade!"

  The white road unwound before them in unending monotony, and each rider drowsed fitfully. The numbing c
old and the stupor of utter fatigue lulled them deliciously like an opiate. Yoshitomo's shouts, however, roused them from time to time as he called to each member of his party; answering cries continued to assure him that no one was straggling too far behind.

  "Don't lose sight of each other," Yoshitomo warned. "See that the snow doesn't freeze on your lashes. Keep calling to one another to stay awake!"

  Late that night when they were safely past the sentinel posts along the highway and had crossed the Hino River, they found themselves hoarse and breathless from shouting against the wind and driving snow. It was getting more and more difficult not to lose sight of each other. Suddenly Yoshitomo and Yoshihira, who rode ahead, thought they heard shouts in the distance. They brought their horses to a stop and, blinking away the snow, listened intently.

  "Yoritomo—Yoritomo-o! Ho-o!"

  Another voice took up the cry: "Ho-o, Yoritomo!"

  The sounds appeared to come from their rear.

  "Are they calling Yoritomo?"

  "He must be straggling far behind. Wait for me here, Father, while I go back."

  "No, I'll go with you."

  A retainer riding a few steps ahead of Yoshitomo wheeled in his tracks to ask: "Are we all going back?"

  Yoshitomo began retracing his steps and counted off his party. They were all there except Yoritomo, his youngest son.

  "Yoritomo missing?"

  Some time must have elapsed since one of the group made the discovery, for though they hallooed and called in unison, there was no reply.

  "You say he's not here," Yoshitomo asked anxiously, addressing no one in particular. "When did you notice this?"

  "He was riding between us when we crossed the plain," two captains offered.

  "At Hino River?"

  "The storm was blowing its worst there and we scattered in order to cross. We might have become separated there. It was our fault. Let us two go back to look for him," the captains said, preparing to turn back.

  Then Yoshitomo's voice, hollow with desolation, restrained them. "Wait, wait: That's not necessary. We can't turn back for each straggler.

  The party were now huddled together against the storm, and Yoshitomo continued: "It will soon be daybreak and we must change our course to avoid meeting strangers on the road. Unless we take to the hills we are in danger of pursuit, and Yoritomo must be left to his fate if we are to escape. The future of all the Genji depends on our surviving. We can't risk our lives for him alone."

  Then the two captains protested: "Sir, he is the youngest of your sons, and beloved of us; how can we abandon him to the storm? You will regret this to the day of your death. Let the future take care of itself. Let us go back now to find him!"

  But Yoshitomo was not to be persuaded. "No, though your words move me deeply. You know well how dear my son is to me, his father, yet all the Genji look to me as their parent and I cannot forsake them for him alone. In defeat they are more than ever my children. . . ."

  Yoshitomo's voice died into silence and he suddenly turned his face away and with uplifted hands prayed: "Ah, cruel night! Is this how heaven will try my child? Is it indeed his fate to die in this cold? Merciful heaven, if it is the will of the gods, spare him!"

  Nerving himself to a decision from which he saw no escape, Yoshitomo turned once more to the waiting group. "We cannot go back. Hurry on we must, for it will soon be day," he said, and spurred his horse ahead.

  Reluctantly the rest took up their positions behind Yoshitomo, all except the youngest captain, who, after exchanging a few meaningful glances with Yoshihira, turned his horse's head in a westerly direction.

  White, white all around—an unending white road—around him the white night.

  Yoritomo was painfully sleepy, and the even rocking of his horse was as soothing as the motions of a cradle. He could barely keep awake. Nodding . . . nodding, he finally succumbed. Sometimes the sound of someone calling him penetrated his consciousness, and Yoritomo replied, or thought he had. Then sleep engulfed him once more. He was barely fourteen and the rigors of the past few days had been too much for him. All the terrors were forgotten now in sleep. He had only to hold tight to the reins for his horse to move forward, on and on. He recalled passing through the village of Moriyama; then they had crossed a plain, but of the rest he knew nothing, saw nothing of four men following close behind.

  A day before Yoshitomo came through Moriyama, a soldier had arrived there from Rokuhara and, summoning the headman and the farming folk, had ordered them to be on the lookout for Yoshitomo. Before the messenger departed, notices were posted in the village and its outskirts offering a reward for Yoshitomo's capture. Gen, a village ne'er-do-well, hearing of this, gathered together a few cronies by promises to share the reward, far more than they could expect for snaring even a dozen boar, he pointed out. Arming himself with a halberd and his companions with bamboo spears, Gen started out in pursuit of Yoshitomo and his small party.

  "There he is—and alone too, Gen."

  "So he is."

  "That's odd."

  "Why?"

  "I thought I saw hoofprints in the snow near the bridge. Anyway, that's the only one I see. Lucky I fell asleep in the wineshop, or I should never have heard of this. Never can tell when your luck will turn!"

  "Not bad this, with the end of the year so close. I never dreamed such luck would be coming my way this year."

  "Hey there, get on with you!"

  "There's no hurry. Remember, they're armed."

  "After all, it's only a boy. It must be Yoshitomo's son."

  "Look—look there!"

  "He must be asleep. Look, he's nodding!"

  "As easy as catching a bear cub. I'll twist his stirrup and throw him from his saddle and when he falls, catch him and pin him down. I'll rope him then."

  Gen and his companions charged toward Yoritomo, who suddenly looked up at them.

  Gen stopped in his tracks.

  "Here, boy, where are you going?" he asked sharply.

  Yoritomo did not reply. He suddenly perceived that his father and brothers were no longer with him and gazed about blankly at the falling snow. The pathos of the clear eyes turned on him from under the snow-laden visor, and the delicate lines of Yoritomo's child features gave Gen an uncomfortable feeling under his ribs.

  "Get down, get down, there!" Gen shouted as he ran up to Yoritomo's horse and grasped the right stirrup.

  Yoritomo twisted himself sideways in his saddle to keep from falling.

  "Here, you, get down, I tell you!"

  "You blackguard!" Yoritomo cried as he whipped out his sword and swung it with all his might at Gen's head. A curdling scream brought Yoritomo fully awake; a dark stain spread across the snow; bamboo spears grazed him, and he fought off someone who blocked his way with a spear. Something snarled at him and Yoritomo grew afraid, realizing that his father was no longer with him.

  "Father! Father! Yoshihira! . . ."

  Yoritomo's horse bolted past an assailant and tore forward; on and on he flew.

  Yoritomo could not tell which way he was being carried, but he was certain it was not in the direction his father had gone, and when his exhausted horse finally refused to go farther, Yoritomo abandoned him, threw away his heavy helmet, and walked aimlessly over hills and through valleys.

  Several days later he dragged himself to a lonely mountain village and threw himself down to sleep under the eaves of a farmer's woodshed. The farm-woman who went out to open a tub of pickles screamed at the sight of a half-frozen child asleep among the piles of firewood and bales of charcoal. She called her husband and together they carried him into their hut, warmed his limbs, and revived him with bowls of steaming potato gruel. And when he was ready to leave, they gave him careful directions for reaching Mino.

  "Go round that mountain you see yonder," they said, "and you will find a pass to the south, which you must cross before you are there."