"Ridiculous—absolutely ridiculous!"
"But Mongaku's quite sure that's what happened. He even told me the fellow's name."
"What's the fellow's name?"
"I mustn't tell you."
"What?"
"I promised Mongaku to tell no one. He thinks it would be a pity if the name becomes known, and the Heike soldiers capture him."
"Are you Mongaku's messenger, or did your mistress send you? What made you come here to me?"
"Now wait until you hear me through. Stop yapping at me like that!"
Yomogi was a fair match for the scornful Nose this morning, and the eager words came tumbling out of her mouth as she went on to tell what Mongaku had said. The youth's name, she insisted, had to be kept a secret; he was a retainer of the Genji who had sworn to avenge his lord by killing Tokiwa; he was lying in wait for her; he had even hidden himself in the garden outside Tokiwa's room, but his courage had deserted him when he finally saw his intended victim. Mongaku had promised Yomogi to drive away the assassin by an incantation which he wrote on a slip of paper. He had given her the paper neatly folded, and had carefully instructed her to suspend it from a hedge in the garden where it could be seen. He assured her that if the paper disappeared during the night, there would no longer be any need to fear him. Until then, Mongaku had repeatedly warned her, everything must be done to shield Tokiwa. Yomogi had then gone home and done exactly as Mongaku told her, tying the paper to a low-hanging branch of a bamboo in a grove on the north side of the house where few people ever went.
". . . And I couldn't sleep a wink last night, wondering whether it would still be there or not by morning."
Yomogi ceased talking, though she still appeared eager to add more, but Bamboku had already guessed who the youth was.
"It must be Konno-maru. He's been hiding in the capital for some time with Yoshihira of the Genji."
"Oh, how did you know?"
"Who wouldn't know? And Mongaku's message—was it still there this morning?"
"It was gone."
"As I thought. . . ."
"But there was another in its place." Yomogi held out a slip of paper and anxiously watched Bamboku's face as he read it.
Bamboku wrinkled his brows and read the message several times over to himself. The writing, blurred by dew, was almost illegible.
"What does it say?"
"Seems to be in answer to Mongaku's note."
"What about the magic Mongaku said he would work?"
"What! You believe that that monk's words would have any effect? Looks more as though he's goaded the killer on."
"Oh, this is dreadful! . . . What are we to do, Bamboku, sir? Tell me, Nose—"
"Hm? What did you call me just now?"
"Nothing, sir, I only—"
"You're only a scatterbrained little fool! This is what comes of being too friendly with Mongaku. This should teach you a lesson!"
"But if it weren't for Mongaku, we wouldn't have known about this terrible person who wants to kill my mistress—or his name. Now if I—"
"Teh, how you chatter! We all know how much you love your mistress, but you might try talking less."
"I can't help it for worrying and worrying. ... I simply don't know what I'm to do next for worrying."
"Hoy should you know, anyway? You've no more brains than a sparrow! Off with you now to your mistress and put a stop to that twittering and twittering!"
Privy Councilor Kiyomori had spent the night at Court to attend a secret session that lasted until morning. He succeeded in snatching a few hours of sleep, and was on his way through the Palace halls when a courtier who saw him hurried to him with a message that had come through the Guard Office. One Bamboku from Fifth Avenue, it appeared, wished to speak with the Councilor and was now waiting in the library.
"Bamboku? What could he want?" Kiyomori asked himself, puzzled. It was no ordinary matter that would bring him here, nor would he ordinarily be admitted. Kiyomori sought the library and there found Bamboku and Itogo with him.
Bamboku, fully appreciating the unusual privilege of being where he was, prostrated himself solemnly and, without his usual facetiousness, briefly conveyed his belief that Tokiwa was in immediate danger and begged for Kiyomori's advice.
"That must be Konno-maru, who has sworn to take his revenge on the Heike. This is very serious," Kiyomori replied, and turned to Itogo. "Take your best soldiers to the Mibu villa, surround it, and get the man. There's only one—a youth."
As he turned to leave, Kiyomori added: "And you, Red-Nose, see that no harm comes to your charge. If anything happens to her, you're responsible."
The Nose bowed profoundly.
That same morning two hundred soldiers under Itogo left for Mibu villa. Scattering his men in a wide arc in the vicinity, Itogo ordered them to close in step by step until the spacious grounds were surrounded.
It was possible for a man to conceal himself for several days, and without too much difficulty, somewhere inside the walls of the villa—containing as it did a miniature lake, about which grew artfully placed groves simulating woods, and even a stretch of rolling ground through which a stream flowed.
Because of the bamboo thickets and woods which grew close outside the villa walls, the soldiers had some difficulty in approaching the house, but step by step the human net tightened and closed. Finally the Nose, accompanied by a few soldiers, entered the gate. "There's no danger of his escaping now," he was saying, "I'll make a search of the house itself. See that the lady is not alarmed."
Half of the soldiers were next sent inside the walls to search the premises; they crawled under the house; some climbed to the roof; others peered down wells or up into the treetops. No trace of the would-be assassin, however, could be found. The whole expedition appeared to have been in vain and the disgruntled soldiers were beginning to complain. The Nose, however, redoubled his efforts. He would be blamed for this uproar, for sounding a false alarm. He turned his spleen on Yomogi. "There's no Konno-maru to be found, is there? What do you mean by your stories! Just look at the commotion you've caused!" he roared as they came face to face in the servants' quarters.
"Here, here, Nose," a soldier who stood near by said in disgust, "what's the use of bawling at the poor girl? Let's call it a day. Besides, our men haven't yet had their supper. . . ."
Itogo retired, leaving twenty soldiers to stand guard around the villa walls.
The Nose turned over the whole affair in his mind once more. He would have to report this sorry business to Kiyomori. He next turned his attention to Yomogi. "Look here, tell your mistress this. Tell her how much we regret having disturbed her and caused such unnecessary excitement. We have set up guards inside as well as outside, so there's no fear of intruders. A thorough search has been made and she can be sure that no strangers are lurking about. You understand, don't you, Yomogi?"
"Yes, I shall tell her so."
"I'm going to Rokuhara now."
"Do be careful, sir."
"Tell her exactly what I said, now, and nothing else. Mind you don't say anything more."
"I really don't chatter so much as you think. Besides, who could have kept quiet this time?"
"There you go again! Twittering and twittering. . . ."
"Well, then, I won't talk any more. I won't say a word even if something does come up!"
"As you please. You wouldn't be of any earthly use anyhow. The soldiers will keep guard from tonight, so you needn't worry a particle. And see here, no more of this chattering when you go out. There's to be no more of this chattering, I warn you!"
"Is that so?" Yomogi pouted, turning her back on the Nose
Two giant oaks spread their branches umbrellawise over a gallery connecting one wing with the main part of Mibu villa, and extended over an inner court. The new leaves and last year's withered foliage made a thick tangle overhead. Konno-maru stirred and sighed with relief as he looked down from his nest. The thick interlacing of branches made it possible for him to str
etch or even lie cradled among the leaves. He had hidden up there all day while Itogo's soldiers searched, planning, if discovered, to make his escape by a limb to the roof. It was dark now and he could see several watch-fires spaced out at intervals along the walls.
He recalled the events of the past several days, reproaching himself for his cowardice. Several chances had presented themselves for accomplishing what he had set out to do, but his courage had failed him each time. He found it easier now to consider what he should do next: he would kill Tokiwa tonight without any thought for his own safety. He waited for the hours to go by and the household to settle to sleep. Toward midnight Konno-maru slid down spiderlike from the tree and crept toward a room in which a single light still burned. By now he was familiar with his surroundings, and this he knew was Tokiwa's room. Climbing over a balustrade, he made his way along a gallery and then crouched beside a door. It was locked. It would be simple enough to pry the lock loose with his dagger and throw his weight against the door, though the noise would undoubtedly bring servants and soldiers running; but he could in the meantime stab Tokiwa. What happened to him after that did not matter.
While such thoughts went through his mind, he was startled by a voice.
". . . Who's there?"
It was a woman's voice. A light undulated across a lifted shutter and a silken rustle approached the door; Konno-maru sprang away from it. The door swung open and Tokiwa's pale face appeared, illumined by the lamp she was holding.
"Are you by any chance Konno-maru?" she said.
Konno-maru gave an exclamation of surprise, and stood motionless. Tokiwa, however, showed no surprise or fear. Her next words were in a whisper.
"Konno-maru, I was sure it was you—Lord Yoshitomo's favorite retainer. Come this way—come in—we mustn't let the sentries hear us," she said, motioning to Konno-maru.
As she vanished behind a silken hanging, Konno-maru slipped in after her and crouched in a corner of the room.
Tokiwa went back and softly closed the door. The wick in the lamp burned brightly; on a writing-table were spread the sutras she had been copying.
Tokiwa had heard about Konno-maru from Yomogi and of his designs on her life, but the revelation did not disturb her; she had only quietly expressed surprise at his having been so near for several days. When Yomogi showed her the message Konno-maru had left tied to a tree in the garden, Tokiwa seemed moved and had said: "He was a good and loyal retainer and can hardly be blamed for feeling toward me as he does."
For some time the two sat and watched each other. The light in the lampstand flickered, rose and sank uneasily. Konno-maru could discover nothing repellent in the still figure before him. Tokiwa, her dark hair flowing down among the silken folds of her garments, sat in absolute repose. Her head drooped slightly as though she was meditating. Konno-maru felt his limbs grow leaden and powerless, though his thoughts raced on. What kept him from approaching her, stabbing her? With every silent moment that dragged by, his heart began to weaken with overwhelming pity. Nowhere could he see the features of the evil, faithless woman he had expected to find. The smell of incense assailed his nostrils and his eyes turned to the oratory, before which an incense-burner sent up a white thread. Once more he gazed at Tokiwa and winced at the frailness of the thin shoulders under her robes.
". . . Konno-maru, do you remember how long ago you used to come to me with messages from Lord Yoshitomo?"
The quiet voice seemed to bring Konno-maru to his senses, and his eyes hardened as he leaned toward her. "So you haven't forgotten entirely?"
"How could I ever forget?" she replied softly.
"Ah, you faithless woman, how can you say that so shamelessly! You are evil indeed!"
"You are right, Konno-maru. I have wanted someone to tell me that—to accuse me, despise me, shame me."
"Do you mean this?"
"It is the truth, Konno-maru. You can see that for yourself; I'm not trying to escape from you."
"Yes, that is so. But that must be a passing regret."
"I regret nothing I have done. I did only what I chose to do."
"What! you mean that you also choose certain death?"
Konno-maru's hand feverishly felt for his sword; a slight lifting of his hand and he could bury the sharp point in any part of her body that he chose.
Then Tokiwa said musingly: "There is no other choice for a woman. . . . No, at least not for me. I am ashamed—ashamed to have been discovered like this by one who was Lord Yoshitomo's retainer."
As she spoke, she seemed about to faint, but made no sound.
"If it would set your mind at rest to take your revenge by killing me, then strike. I am ready. ... I shall not try to escape, nor cry out in fear," Tokiwa said quietly, holding out some letters that she seemed to have had in readiness. "I have one last request to make. These are letters to each of my children, my last message to my sons. . . . And this—this is my Lord Yoshitomo's. See that this reaches some Genji who can be trusted. That is all I ask of you."
Then she turned away from Konno-maru and clasped her hands before the small Kannon image in the oratory.
Konno-maru was bewildered. He remembered the silver image as one that stood in his master's room, where Yoshitomo prayed to it every morning and night. In his confusion Konno-maru groped for the letter that bore Yoshitomo's familiar writing.
It was his master's last message to Tokiwa. He read it through slowly with tear-blinded eyes and then laid it down. "Forgive me, my lady. How could I have been such a fool? It was true what that monk Mongaku said—that I was mad to have thoughts of revenge, and that you, a helpless woman, are far more courageous than I."
A silence intervened as Konno-maru made an effort to master himself. Then he went on: "Had I killed you, my life would have been darkened even more than Mongaku's. I now realize my folly. I shall start anew, live on with courage. ... I promise that my lord's letter will reach the Genji in the east, and these letters to your children will be delivered to each one in time by my own hand."
Konno-maru would have thrown himself at Tokiwa's feet, but she rose quickly, opened the door, peered out, and then quickly closed it. "I can see the soldiers' watch-fires. Hadn't you better wait here until dawn?"
But Konno-maru was ready to go. Drawing out a dark scarf, he muffled his face with it, wrapping the long ends round his shoulders.
"There is no need for you to be anxious about me, my lady; they will not be able to see me now."
And with this he stepped to the door, let it swing wide open, and vanished into the dark garden. A few moments later Tokiwa thought she saw a shadow motion to her from the top of a wall as though in farewell, and lifted her lamp in reply.
CHAPTER XXXV
MYRIADS OF CANDLES
The long rains had ended and the droning cicadas, the clouds, and the hot sky announced that it was high summer.
"Let me see—have we been flooded again? . . . Not much damage, I hope," the Nose bellowed. It was his habit to raise his voice at any servant who caught his eye on entering the gates of Mibu villa.
Yomogi and several maidservants were washing clothes in the stream running through the grounds. Near by, several paper umbrellas and sunshades had been set out in the sun to dry.
"What a beautiful umbrella this one is, Yomogi! It couldn't possibly be yours?"
"No, it's not mine, but my lady's."
The Heike Story Page 50