Pagoda, Skull & Samurai

by Rohan Kōda

  With a slight frown on his face, Ieyasu replied, "I can well understand your reason for making this request. If it were anyone else, I would just let it pass, but you of all people ought to know better than to put me in such a difficult position. Before I could let you have your way with that rogue, Nobunaga and Akechi would no doubt assert their prior claim. No, Tadatsugu, permission cannot be granted. You may have Kotarō's small sword instead. I shall instruct Naruse to release it tomorrow. Be content with what I can do for you." Well-grounded in logic and delivered without harshness, the words of his lord circumvented any rebuttal.

  Yet Tadatsugu remained unappeased. "With Kotarō's mortal enemy all but within my grasp," he thought, "how could I leave him in peace? Such betrayal of his faith in me would put me to shame, I who used to behave toward him as if I were his elder brother! I can't stop at my lord's first rejection; I must pursue this matter until he grants me a free hand, either to kill the paroled prisoner in a fight or to put him to the sword right where he sits...." Tadatsugu tried to speak again, but precious time had been lost in a few moments' hesitation.

  "Well, Tadatsugu, I do not think you intend to be unreasonable," Ieyasu pressed on in a low voice, peering at him with piercing eyes. At a loss for words, Tadatsugu hesitated again, only to be dismissed in a tone of finality. "Permission denied. The matter is closed."

  Tadatsugu might as well have been facing a cliff one thousand feet high without a single handhold.

  [18]

  The night was still. In the dense bamboo grove of the garden of Hōkō Temple, fireflies flickered feebly. The moon had not yet risen to cast a graceful spell over the scene, but the faint glow of the starry sky over dark treetops struck a rather engaging scene for a man in captivity.

  "Ever since I failed in my attempt after the battle of Nagashino, I've been in detention here. Their hospitality has been quite generous. I've nothing to complain about, except for their occasional pestering for my total surrender. How irksome of Ieyasu to resort to psychological manipulation, attempting to turn me into his own hunting dog tethered to a yoke of duty and obligation! I shall never surrender my loyalty to him. Sooner or later he's obliged to grant me suicide or to execute me, so what is he waiting for? This is so exasperating! Not that I'm overanxious to die even now. Show me a slightest chance for escape and I'll flee to Takatenjin Castle in Enshū, if not all the way back to kōshū, and put up a memorable fight. My treatment here may be casual, but the outside is tightly secured day and night by vigilant guards. Lacking a pair of wings on my back and a weapon in my hand, I'm virtually helpless. If I died in my escape attempt, barely out of the temple compound and under the undistinguished swords of nameless footsoldiers, I'd surely suffer disparagement and a charge of improvidence even in death. If I were recaptured alive, I could never live down the disgraceful reputation as a coward shamelessly clinging to life. I must make no attempt unless there's absolute surety of success. If fate ordains my death at the enemy's hand, so be it—there's no use arguing. Since my aspiration is not directed toward the Western Pure Land, I shall face north to bid a quiet farewell to my home province and end my life by seppuku. In the meantime, I can take advantage of my detention in this temple and spend my remaining days chanting sutras so as to offset the agonies of Asura tormenting the late lord and all the war dead—my uncle, Generals Baba, Yamagata, Naitō, and the others—and help expedite the release of their unavenged souls."

  Six times daily Dairoku prayed and chanted sutras. Today again he finished reading aloud the Parable Chapter of the Lotus Sutra with the sentence, "To all those able to believe and comprehend, you should preach the Lotus Sutra of the wonderful law."

  Just as he was bowing deeply to the sutra, which he had replaced upon a small desk, an acolyte appeared. "Tomi-naga-dono and a lady are here from the castle to relieve your tedium. He has brought some sake and refreshments, so the repast will be served soon. Please greet your visitors."

  "Oh?... Ah! Ieyasu must have at last given up the idea of ever winning me over. As a prelude to my impending death by whatever means he chooses, he must have decided to demonstrate his graciousness by treating me to some refreshments delivered by a messenger of consolation. Now that I'm ready to accept my sentence, I shall avail myself of my visitor's hospitality and unburden myself by divulging something that I've kept to myself until now. It's quite sporting of Ieyasu to send along a woman as well. Does he mean for her to enhance the flavor of the sake with a dance? No sophisticated prince of the Heike clan, I wouldn't know what to do if I met the fairest of women on the night before my death. What a laugh!" Dairoku waited, unruffled, chuckling softly to himself.

  Before long, Tominaga, trodding heavily, was brought in by a monk. Not exceptionally tall, the rugged samurai was solid of build, with wide shoulders. As if square jaws and a squat nose were not enough to define the unmitigated ugliness of his dark face, a scar extended from his right eye into the brow, obviously a souvenir of some battle. Far from impressive in his appearance, he seemed a redoubtable warrior nonetheless. He was followed by a woman about twenty-five years of age, fair and genteel. Before Dairoku had time to take a more careful look at her, the man dropped down close to him and the woman settled by a lamp some distance away. After the exchange of formalities, Tominaga, commiserating with Dairoku on his ill luck, said, "Such is the samurai's fortune that some day might find me in your place, a captive guest of the House of Takeda."

  Soon a train of acolytes set individual trays of sake and snacks before them. Tominaga tasted the first cupful of sake and offered the large drinking vessel to Dairoku. "Now, Kasai-dono, please drink as much as you like. It will do you good to dispel the weariness of inactive days with some sake. It will cheer my heart to see you enjoying yourself. I shall do my best to keep you company."

  "I, Tamae, am in the service of Lady Tokugawa," the woman introduced herself. "As you can see, Tominaga-dono is a rugged man of arms, poorly skilled in the finer art of flattery. But his candor and rectitude are quite unrivaled even among our clansmen, and I think you will find him a fit companion for conversation. Please relax and feel free to reminisce about your exploits in wars, both recent and long past. I would like to hear some interesting stories to commemorate this occasion." She seemed anxious to raise Dairoku's spirits and relieve the dreary monotony of captivity. Her speech was crisp and distinct, rather unexpected from such coral lips.

  Dairoku, who had listened with a slight smile, now drained the large vessel. "Since you are kind enough to offer, I shall be happy to drink my fill. I am quite fond of sake, as a matter of fact, and, if I may say so, I have a hero and fair lady for company. What more can a man ask? By the way, Tominaga-dono, Miss Tamae, why don't you inform me of the official decision that must have been reached in my case? It becomes neither of you to pretend ignorance. There is no harm in your telling me, for I have been resigned to the ultimate prospect far too long to lose my nerve or appetite over the confirmation that I face summary decapitation. No, you cannot hide it, for I have already guessed that my fate was sealed today. Why else are you here now if not to regale me on my last night on earth? Why don't you tell me frankly that I am to be executed on the morrow or that I have been granted the privilege of honorable suicide? Not only will I remain unruffled by the news, but I even promise to enjoy the drink all the better for it. Now I can get the last burden off my chest. Can you honestly say that I have guessed wrong? Pray, be candid and tell me."

  "You are free to guess anything, but we have no such knowledge. Why would we withhold such information? Please have some more to drink."

  Tossing down another cupful, Dairoku sat rubbing his beard for a while. "How long do you intend to keep it from me? There is really no need...." All at once he broke into a smile. "Tominaga-dono, you must find me more than a bit funny. I was foolish to insist on knowing my exact fate when my death was simply a matter of time anyway. Ha, ha, ha, ha! Now I am convinced more than ever that tomorrow my eyes will gaze for the last time upon this world—
the world which has nothing to hold me and where I have no wife or children to leave behind. This evening I stand on this shore that marks the end of a brief dream; tomorrow night will find me taking my first step on the other shore. Looking back on this night then, perhaps I would be amused by a vision of this scene hovering above the cloud, or is it water, that separates life and death —this scene of our little gathering at which we, enemies in this world, share a jug of sake and a lamplight for the night. May I have some more? Ah, thank you. How delectable! It feels as though my teeth are beginning to swim in my mouth. This must be the famous sake of Chita. Sharing the shade of a tree and a drink of river water together supposedly attests that the participants are linked by a common tie of karma from their former existences. Our lives must have crossed somewhere in another time that we should meet here thus—of all people, the three of us who, on opposing sides, might have glared at and reviled one another on the battlefield. Strangely enough, I feel close to you both." Dairoku reflected pensively, his sentiment visible in his face.

  "You are quite right," responded Tominaga, betraying none of his own emotions. "Until this evening you and I were antagonists, neither of us to be forgiven or left unchallenged by the other. Hereafter, I might again deem you my sworn enemy to be harshly dealt with. Be that as it may, we are not facing each other with swords in hand, for the moment at least. Now to change the subject, what did you mean by 'get the last burden off your chest?' If you have something to confess, you can confide in me, one who is subject to the same vicissitudes of the samurai's life. I am not saying that you are to die tomorrow, mind you, but I would like to help if there is anything I can do for you. This is your chance to unload whatever burden you may be carrying in your heart. I am particularly anxious to hear all about your adventures in the last battle and to learn how you came to make an attempt on Lord Nobunaga's life. The final outcome of the battle was decided fair and square through the formal match of strategy and military strength waged between the two armies. Yet you disguised yourself as a footsoldier in General Akechi's command and set upon Lord Nobunaga with a deadly sword during our victory celebration. Judging from your demeanor since the arrest and from my own personal observation this evening, I cannot believe you are a man of disreputable character. Why did a warrior of your caliber resort to such a dastardly means, one unfit even for outlaw samurai and bandits? Granted, in this war-torn age of ours, no act of duplicity or foul play goes unattempted. Still, assuming a false identity to lurk in a man's vulnerable flank in order to spring a surprise attack is to act worse than a viper crawling stealthily up to a victim to strike with its fangs. Dastardly, contemptible, the ultimate in perfidy! Isn't such behavior condemned as unmanly or ignoble in Kōshū? It absolutely defied my comprehension. Please enlighten me on this, too." Tominaga, ending his comment in a severely accusatory tone, waited for an answer, staring intently with hardening eyes.

  Utterly unperturbed by the charges of personal dastard-liness and perfidy, Dairoku had maintained his composure, but in the end countered Tominaga with arched brows:

  "This is more than I can tolerate. Do you intend to denigrate my homeland? It is foolish of you to imply that a disgrace is not considered disgraceful in kōshū. Where on earth could you find a land where man's sense of right and wrong is exactly reversed, any more than you could discover a country where people's hair grow on their heels? Call me dastardly and ignoble if you like, but don't slander the entire domain of kōshū based on your opinion of me alone. I do not claim that my own action was the most honorable of all. Since each man is limited by the range of his own potential, what is so wrong with serving one's lord to the best of one's abilities? Dastardly or asinine, it matters little. So long as one's motive is honorable, another man's opinion of right and wrong or good and evil is no more material than a feather or a speck of dust over a blazing fire.

  "To begin with, the battle of Nagashino ended in an unspeakable defeat for our side. Victory and defeat may be heaven-ordained, but ours was such a crushing blow, so hard to accept. We sent our veteran commanders and valiant warriors to their deaths and suffered the first rout since the founding of the House. How humiliating! Our adversary was none other than that windbag Nobunaga, who would no doubt gloat over an inflated account of his victory. The sun and moon gracing our sacred treasure flag have lost their radiance, and the glory of the heroic Yoshimitsu's lineage has crumbled. The more I reflect upon the cataclysmic blunder in the single battle that annihilated all the marks of distinction that had been painstakingly built during Lord Shingen's lifetime, the more deeply I feel, even now, the grinding pain of bitter rage. At first I wanted to die just as much as I wanted to live; had it been possible at all to split my heart asunder, I would have sent the two halves flying in opposite directions. You can imagine my anguish under such circumstances, can't you? When the battle was half over, I stood in a field suffused with the smell of blood steamed by the sun and stirred by the silent wafts of the lukewarm breeze. As I turned to scan the far distance, my tired eyes were seared by the sight of bright enemy colors flying intact beyond the battleground littered with fallen bodies. Full aware as I was that I, a mere soldier of the losing army, was powerless to do anything, how could I remain impassive at such a moment, unless I were a clay figurine or a wooden statue?

  "This might sound like self-justification, but one finds friends among foes, and strangers among fellow warriors. Since your remark struck a responsive chord in my heart, I would like to consider you a friend among my enemies. Please pour me another drink. A pleasant discourse in the face of impending death—quite a suitable occasion for drinking. Ha, ha, ha! Please don't dismiss me as someone trying to drown his sorrows. You call my conduct dastardly? Yes, it was paltry. You label my conduct disgraceful? Yes, indeed, it was. Nonetheless, 'dastardly' and 'disgraceful' are mere words born of wagging human tongues. I refuse to lend an ear to such unworthy sounds. Worldly judgment cannot match the strength even of a cobweb when it comes to restraining a man's feet. Fully anticipating criticism and censure, I tried to do exactly what I wanted to do. I failed, and the result is this—my plight, my present status, your remark.... Ha, ha, ha! Well-nigh a good laughing matter, this is! Just think of it. A survivor of the kōshū army devastated by the defeat, how could I, a young and low-ranking soldier, hope to assist my lord and rebuild our army until Nobunaga and Ieyasu are forced back where they had been during Lord Shingen's reign? I had to admit to myself that I lacked the genius indispensable for devising a momentous plan that could reverse the tide of fortune. I was able to take pride in nothing better than my humble ambition and fool's courage. Fortunately, however, I was not lacking in strength and spirit.

  "'Suppose I keep moving forward instead of returning home—could I then perhaps stem the tide and recapture our lost luck? True, the victor and loser are already distinctly marked. Nobunaga has plainly stolen the show at Nagashino; we have lifted the siege of the castle, and leaving countless dead behind, the kōshū survivors have withdrawn. Nevertheless, unless I alter the outcome of the battle before it becomes public knowledge, the future of the House will be beset with all kinds of trouble. Once Asura captures the sun, all distinctions between black and white in this world will be instantly obliterated. I'll stretch forth my arm to squeeze the life out of Nobunaga, wiping both his victory and our defeat off the record. Before they can chop me into little pieces, I'll savor the taste of many an enemy sword. Quite a report to astound my uncle with at our encounter in Hell, isn't it?...' That is what I thought, at any rate. Just the same, Tominaga-dono, there may be such a thing as fate after all. Not only did I let Nobunaga practically slip through my fingers at the last minute, but I ended up getting myself captured because of a freak accident: my sword broke right below the guard, making it impossible for me to go down fighting or to be killed in fair fight. I am ashamed to be alive today, being entertained by you."

  Concluding his discourse, Dairoku returned the empty vessel to Tominaga. After taking a few sips, the latter
filled it again for Dairoku.

  "Now I have a fairly good idea as to your motive," Tominaga said, his face still a wooden mask devoid of expression. "Next, I would like to learn how you smuggled yourself into General Akechi's command. You must have found nothing but your enemies overrunning the territory from the river banks to the forest. How did you manage to go south when the Oda-Tokugawa forces were sweeping northward? You must have killed a few who tried to challenge your identity on the way. Tell us about them."

  "Well, I feel foolish talking on and on about myself, but I won't be here tomorrow anyway. Since you asked, and since there happens to be something that I intended to tell someone when I receive my death sentence, I might as well tell it to you. Let me see.... It was after I separated from my uncle, who was pledged to die. In lone contemplation of the battleground, I resolved, as I already explained, to steal into the Oda camp. But the cowardly plainsmen must have been reluctant to venture beyond their fences, for none was to be found. I was frustrated in my plan to come upon a few of them, ascertain which unit they belonged to, and take their insignia for my disguise. Rather unsure of my way, I trudged along a path between the mountains, intent upon reaching the Oda command post after skirting around the back of the Tokugawa positions. At the foothill east of Araumi Field—I am not well acquainted with the local place names.... You say it might have been the road to Yatsukaho? In any case, I was turning at a crossroad when a young samurai leaped at me from behind a large tree, shouting, 'Don't show your back!' Smartly dressed and wielding a halberd, he bore down furiously upon me. After a few clashes, I knocked the halberd out of the none-too-powerful grip of my young foe. Far from discouraged, he drew his sword and resumed his attack. What a nuisance! With no hankering for a fight at the moment, I tried to leave him alone and get on my way, but he kept persistently at my heels. I was forced to turn and strike the sword out of his hand, but next he came at me with open arms to grapple. Such an admirable boy I could not very well put to the sword summarily, so I dropped my weapon and wrestled with him. Of course, it took me hardly any effort to pin him down. To my surprise, he stabbed at me with an astonishingly swift flick of his shorter sword. If my eyes had been a fraction less alert, my throat would have been pierced. I narrowly dodged his thrust, but you can see this scar across the left side of my neck—a vestige of my careless moment.... What did I do next? Well, in my alarm I seized his hand, held it under my left foot to force his fist open, wrenched the little sword out of his grip, kicked it off to a distance, and---"