The Heike Story

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The Heike Story Page 47

by Eiji Yoshikawa


  "Rokuro, did you see that fellow with the disagreeable eyes loitering in front of the house? Is he one of the neighbors?" Yoshihira inquired of his companion as they turned off the lane.

  "No, he doesn't appear to be anyone from these poor quarters. He's more like a merchant from one of those large establishments on Fifth or Sixth Avenue."

  "What makes you think so?"

  "His air and the expensive clothes he wore."

  "And did you see that magnificent red nose? A man with an evil eye I could see. You'd better be on your guard, Rokuro."

  "I shall. He doesn't seem to be following us, though."

  Rokuro kept looking back over his shoulder until the Nose was out of sight. But the pair did not notice Shika, who came strolling toward them at a signal from Bamboku. They kept on, skirting puddles and ruts, past the cluttered craftsmen's settlement of blacksmiths, tanners, makers of bows, dyers, and saddlers.

  "Look, Rokuro, these people seem busier than they ever were before the last war."

  "True, Rokuhara prospers and the sound of anvils and bellows is heard even at night."

  "Arms for the Heike?"

  "Undoubtedly, now that the Genji have been driven out."

  Yoshihira suddenly began to study the scene around him with a bitter look. Yes, he thought, what changes had taken place since the Genji had been driven from the capital! All the familiar sights seemed to have vanished; what he now saw and heard made him despair. He himself had been given up for dead when a rumor spread that he had been captured and executed. The truth was that he had escaped north to the country of Echizen and stayed in hiding until it was safe for him to return to Kyoto.

  Rokuhara's influence could be seen everywhere—even in matters of fashion and dress Rokuhara was the arbiter. Not only court circles, but merchants and craftsmen sought Kiyomori's patronage. Life itself appeared to revolve around Rokuhara, the life-giving sun! Yoshihira fumed with helpless rage at the fickleness of men and their readiness to take advantage of the new order. This was the first shattering upheaval he had known in his twenty years, and he was convinced that this state of affairs would never end. The world seemed to hold out nothing for him now except the dedicating of his life to revenge—death to Kiyomori for the honor of the Genji.

  Shortly after returning to the capital, Yoshihira chanced to meet Rokuro, formerly a soldier in Yoshitomo's employ. As Rokuro later related, he had been one of the many soldiers captured by the Heike and later hired as a mercenary at Rokuhara. As a result of their unlooked-for meeting, Rokuro, overjoyed, offered to shelter Yoshihira, advising him to wait for a chance to take his revenge. Not long after that Rokuro heard of Kiyomori's nightly visits to Tokiwa, and with Yoshihira planned the attack on Kiyomori. Though the attempt on Kiyomori's life failed, Yoshihira was convinced that Kiyomori was an easy mark.

  One other would-be assassin too was in hiding—Konno-maru, the young captain who had turned back in the snowstorm to find Yoritomo. Failing in his search, Konno-maru had returned to the capital and there kept close watch on Kiyomori's movements, seeking a chance to revenge his dead lord, Yoshitomo. In the meantime the gossip about Tokiwa reached his ears, and Konno-maru was filled with rage and contempt at her faithlessness.

  Yoshihira and Rokuro were now on their way to meet Konno-maru at a saddler's shop. They had seen him several times before this in different parts of the capital, and their brief impassioned talks had always been of revenge.

  "There, Rokuro, there it is. I see the saddler's shop."

  "So it is, and he's at work, too. Shall we go and speak to him quietly?"

  "Wait, remember what Konno-maru said—to go in as if we had business. He has some understanding with the saddler, but we'll need to be careful of the apprentices. We can't take any risks with them."

  "Yes, he told me that repeatedly. Wait somewhere while I go and talk to him."

  "I'll go over there, behind that shrine," Yoshihira replied, pointing to a spot on the farther side of a pond.

  An ancient shrine stood in a small wood, ravaged and neglected. Yoshihira looked about him, at the tassels of wistaria which hung from the eaves of the shrine, at the branches of the surrounding trees and the golden globeflowers fringing the edge of the water. Konno-maru with Rokuro presently appeared and was about to kneel at Yoshihira's feet, when Yoshihira warned him sharply:

  "Careful now, people might see us and suspect. We're no longer master and retainer, but outlaws. Come, sit here beside me."

  Yoshihira pointed to a stump as he spoke. "Have you heard anything more, Konno-maru?"

  "Nothing about Kiyomori, but did you know that Tokiwa has been moved very quietly to a villa on the edge of the capital?"

  "So I hear, but I'm told that Kiyomori hasn't been there even once. I'm waiting for a chance to attack him when he goes there."

  "I'm sure he's been on his guard since that night, but out chance is sure to come."

  "Yes, sometime."

  "Every day drags by filled with regrets. There's no day in which I do not think of my lord."

  "The same is true of me when I think of my father."

  "And what, sir, do you think of the lady, Tokiwa?"

  "She?"

  "Should we let her remain alive?"

  "We'll not talk about her."

  "No, that's not possible. How can we ignore the shame she has brought on the Genji by consenting to become Kiyomori's mistress?"

  "Don't forget that because of her the three children have been saved, Konno-maru."

  "That's what people say, but how do we know that she sacrificed herself for her children? I doubt it. I'm certain that ambition led her to forget your father and to give herself to Kiyomori."

  "What makes you think so?"

  "Because she refused to kill herself and follow her lord."

  "That's asking too much. You judge her too harshly."

  "Harsh, yes, but you must remember, sir, that I grew up in the service of your father," Konno-maru remonstrated. "I was his most trusted retainer and carried his messages to Tokiwa when she was with Lady Shimeko. I was often present when my lord was with his lady. I know how much he loved her. . . . Do you think I can forgive her for what she has done? The war is over, certainly, but what is to keep me from avenging my lord, whom she has betrayed?"

  "So, Konno-maru, you intend to kill her?"

  "Being a woman, I doubt that she'd have the courage to kill herself. It would be an act of mercy if I did it and wiped out the disgrace she has brought on the Genji."

  "No, wait," Yoshihira interposed hastily, "you'll spoil my chances of getting at Kiyomori if you do that."

  "No, I'll bide my time. I had no chance when she was living in Itogo's house. When you're through with Kiyomori, I'll deal with Tokiwa," Konno-maru replied bitterly.

  In spite of himself, Yoshihira was torn by conflicting emotions. His dead father—this unendurable affront to the Genji, the disgrace.

  ". . . but not right away. Kiyomori first. Not until you hear that Kiyomori has got what he deserves."

  Yoshihira and Konno-maru fell silent, when a sudden crashing overhead brought fragments of bark showering down on them. They looked up, startled. A large crow that had been about to alight on the shrine roof flapped wildly as it flew to a branch higher up. On the roof the two spied a figure—a monk. The ragged shape craned down at them and smiled, showing a row of white teeth through his beard. There was something both friendly and mocking in the quick disinterested look he gave them. Yoshihira, Konno-maru, and Rokuro felt their hair stand on end; they grew pale. Had he overheard them? Their first impulse was to kill the monk, but the figure on the roof seemed to sense this and called down to them:

  "I had nothing to do with this. That was the crow. You need not be afraid of me."

  He had undoubtedly heard every word of what they had been saying, for he sat with his back flattened against the triangular side-wall of the gable; not even the crow had seen the monk in his cramped position on the projecting roof.


  Yoshihira at length smiled wryly and motioned to him. "Your reverence, I have something to ask you. Won't you come down here?"

  "I'm busy, that's why I'm up here. If you have something to ask me, speak to me from where you are. I can hear you quite well."

  "What are you doing up there?"

  "Can't you guess? Mending this roof."

  "Thatching it?"

  "Yes, I'm a traveling monk and I've been living in this old shrine. The sanctuary is always flooded when it rains. That crow must have been scratching around in the thatch, too. A fine day, isn't it?" The monk laughed. "I've been up here all morning, working. What are you doing there?"

  “…”

  "Never mind, you needn't tell me, but since we meet so unexpectedly, let me tell you a few things. You must think I'm only a disreputable monk whose advice means nothing to you, but you're young—so very young that I can't help pitying you. Take better care of your precious lives. Don't forget that the future is still before you."

  "What do you take us for?"

  "How can I tell? Why should I know?"

  "You must have overheard us."

  "Was it something that you didn't want me to hear? Very careless of you. A good thing it was I—I'm as harmless as that old crow."

  "Here, come down. It was unfortunate that you overheard us. We're not going to let you get off alive."

  The monk chuckled with merriment, neither mocking nor admonitory. The narrowed eyes turned down on the youths seemed fondly protective.

  "I see him. I recognize him now—that reckless young warrior who pursued Kiyomori's son from the Taikenmon Gate to the canal. And the world has so changed that he hasn't even the spirit to capture the crow on this roof!"

  "If you refuse to come down, I'll come up and get you myself."

  "Try it—you'll only be wasting your time. I heard you talking, but your secrets are safe with me. I've no more intention of reporting you to Rokuhara than that crow. My sympathies, in fact, are with the defeated and that's why I want to talk to you, young man, who still have the world before you. Your father and brothers are dead and the Genji scattered, but why must you throw away your life? Out of you will come future generations. Guard that priceless life of yours! Forget those foolish plans for revenge. You can't change this world by killing one man. O fool, fool that you are! Can't you see that that helpless woman, submitting quietly to her agonies for love of her children, is far more courageous than you?" The three youths under the tree fell silent. The light sifting through the treetops showed that evening was near, and a red glow played over the seated figures.

  "See, see how the sun has moved onward while we talked. Nothing can stop it in its course. Prayers cannot halt the revolving of nature. It is the same with human life. Victory and defeat are one in the vast stream of life. Victory is the beginning of defeat, and who can rest safely in victory? Impermanence is the nature of all things of this world. Even you will find that your ill fortunes too will change. It is easy to understand the impatience of the old, whose days are numbered, but why should you young ones fret when the future is yours? Why try to dispel your petty dejection by a rash act that can only hasten death?"

  "There's the crow again. It's about time you young men went back. Better still, leave the capital far behind you. And it's time for me to get down from this roof," said the monk, coming to his feet.

  The three youths stood up as though spellbound by what they had heard, and Yoshihira ran quickly up to the shrine. "Wait, wait, your words move me. I shall come tomorrow morning to listen to you once more. I shall think on what you just said. But, your reverence, tell me who you are."

  "You must pardon me for refusing; my name will only disgrace me."

  "You are someone out of the ordinary. What connections do you have with the Genji?"

  "None. Nor with the Heike. I am what you see, only a traveling monk. Let us meet here tomorrow morning."

  "But at least tell us who you are."

  "No, all I have done is preach to you self-righteously, talked down to you for being so foolish when I at your age made such a fool of myself. I was an even more despicable fool than any of you. I was carried away by an infatuation for another man's wife and became the laughing-stock of the capital. Only death can wipe away my guilt, but I have spent years at the Nachi Falls, expiating my sin."

  "You? Then, you're Mongaku!" Yoshihira exclaimed, craning to see better. But Mongaku had vanished, and he searched in vain. Only a crow stood perched on the gable end, preening his feathers and peering up from time to time at the evening stars.

  The three walked away, silent and thoughtful, until Yoshihira shook himself impatiently in self-reproof. Why should the words of that monk cause him to waver? Why had he let himself be carried away for an instant by impractical suggestions? There was no denying, however, that the monk spoke the truth, for men and all earthly things changed from moment to moment.

  "He's right—there's no denying it. Even as we walk, the stars keep appearing and the night grows darker. Konno-maru, what do you think? What have you decided?"

  "Nothing has changed for me. I was rather taken by what Mongaku said, but those are the teachings of the Jodo Buddhists. I'm a warrior, after all, and a follower of Lord Yoshitomo. Why should the words of a monk change me in an instant?"

  "You're right, we were born to the name and calling of the warrior class."

  "We cannot deny what we are. Let Mongaku say what he will about the universe and the impermanence of all things. Life is short and the warrior's honor everything."

  "Well said! The warrior has his own way of valuing his life," Yoshihira whispered half to himself as he turned his face up to the stars. He felt sure of himself once more. The wind blew on his brows as he remarked cheerfully:

  "Well, Konno-maru, until we meet again!"

  They stood at the crossroad of the settlement once more. Konno-maru started away and then turned back to ask: "What will you be doing tomorrow morning?"

  "Tomorrow morning? What do you mean?"

  "Didn't you say you were coming to meet Mongaku?"

  "Not that. What is the use of listening to him when we've made up our minds? We'd better be on the lookout for Kiyomori."

  "And more reason for me to remember that Tokiwa must not be allowed to live much longer. I'll take care of that. Another time, then," Konno-maru said, and made his way back to the saddler's shop.

  Yoshihira and Rokuro also went home, prepared their evening meal by the light of a candle, and when they were through eating, settled down—one to a book, the other to clearing up the remains of their meal. A little later they locked up and soon were asleep.

  Toward dawn, when the eaves softly dripped with dew, dark shadows crept up to the house and surrounded it. Warned by Red-Nose, Kiyomori had dispatched three hundred soldiers from Rokuhara. Bamboku was not among them, but his clerk Shika accompanied the captain, guiding the soldiers to this spot. A commotion broke out as the soldiers attacked Rokuro's house and battered down the door. The entire neighborhood awoke with cries of "Earthquake!" "Fire!" There were shouts: "We've got him!" But the soldiers soon discovered that they had the wrong man, for Yoshihira crept out through a privy, cleared a hedge, and made his way to the roof of an adjoining house.

  "There he is—my bow!" the captain shouted. "Look, there he goes, there!"

  Yoshihira fled, scrambling from roof to roof, and escaped in the ensuing confusion.

  Not until ten days later was Yoshihira captured; he was found asleep near a shrine outside the capital and caught only after fighting off his pursuers. Dragged to Rokuhara, he was brought before Kiyomori, whom he refused to acknowledge by more than a nod and a defiant: "Had I been allowed to go out to meet you with three thousand men as I proposed, when you were on your way back from Kumano, I am certain you would have changed positions with my dead father." Then he added with scorn: "Furthermore, had my father been the victor, he would never have done what you have—taken possession of the woman that another loved!"
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