Perhaps it was truly the end of our world, mappō, as the kuge, and also Misuki with her bramblings, had feared. I had predicted it with my dream. What karma was that for me?
V. Burned
Misuki placed both hands around one of my ears and whispered, under the noise of the carriage and oxen, ‘Kozaishō, my sweet, I bring unfortunate news.’
I was not worried: it probably related to her astrological formations, which were disparate to this world. I hoped it did not involve her hitting me with sticks again. Or drinking some horrible potion designed to keep me from harm. It was neither.
‘Sadakokai told me he overheard Large Cicada speaking to Lord Michimori.’
My back straightened, and my muscles tensed.
‘Large Cicada spoke about Tokikazu.’
I leaned my ear into her hands to hear more clearly every word.
‘He overheard you say you were carrying Tokikazu’s child. And that your husband had an obligation, if you were disloyal, to take your head or command you to commit seppuku.’ She pulled her cupped hands away from my ear and turned directly to my face, shaking her head, her eyes distressed, her hands clasped, as if in prayer.
I took a deep breath to cool the rabid fires in my chest. ‘You know I am not disloyal in any deed, do you not, Misuki?’
‘Naturally. I defended you to Akio when he accused you. I will come to your defence again. I trust you, Kozaishō. Completely.’
I could not speak, only laid my head on her shoulder and loosed furious tears.
Another meeting was called in the night. More samurai guards were stationed outside Grand Room when I slipped behind its screens.
Lamps threw eerie shadows over faces worn from broken slumber and worry. A runner hastily advanced to the sombre group. Oak motioned with a hand and uttered his usual cough. The samurai guard bowed low, then raised his head and torso but remained on his knees, speaking so that I could not hear.
Oak nodded and addressed the group. ‘Fox is preparing for a pilgrimage.’
‘What?’
‘Where?’
‘Mount Hiei.’ Oak waved the guard away who left in silence.
Incredible news! My stomach snapped tighter than the closing of a twenty-five-fold fan. I sat behind my kichō, but the commanders’ throats strangled with alarm – or perhaps it was mine. With the silence I concentrated on my stomach pain and the repercussions of the Fox’s latest strategy.
The Oak coughed again. ‘We could prevent Fox going, but this does not portend well.’
‘Without Fox, we have only the young emperor to assert our authority, and he, perhaps everything, is in grave danger,’ Michimori stressed, beating one fist into the other hand. He was most handsome when he was fervent.
‘How can you conclude that?’ asked the Oak.
‘Have you learned so little?’ Michimori’s voice deepened. ‘The emperor does nothing unless it profits him. We know his piety is always convenient.’ He spread his tree-like legs and placed a hand on each hip. ‘Something is imminent. I do not like it.’
‘Do you believe he would plot against us?’ Large Cicada raised his Taira eyebrows into a broad black arch.
‘Fox considers our protection to be captivity. He has plotted against us, and will again. Let us counter by saying the emperor is on a pilgrimage too. Let us maintain our power base with Emperor Antoku.’
Kingfisher glanced at Michimori and announced, ‘More information. Boar is near, in Yamato Province.’
This was the province directly east of Heian-kyō, too close.
‘I have a runner who says Rat is in Ōmi Province, also close to Mount Hiei. I trust no coincidence.’ Michimori’s resonant voice echoed while the lamps seemed to flicker with each word. ‘Ōmi is even closer to the city than Yamata.’ He folded his branch-like arms across his wide chest and stood as if nothing could dislodge him from that spot.
‘Is it possible that Rat and Fox are forming an alliance with Mount Hiei? What action must we take?’ The Oak put questions to the others as if the priests were contemplating a national defilement. The world at war – against us. There was a long quiet, but for the popping of the brazier.
Michimori broke the silence by putting to them the plan he and I had discussed after I had told him of my dream. ‘We are, by our most trusted runners, outnumbered with Hare in Yamato in the south-east and Rat directly east. Now Fox, Mount Hiei and their sōhei. We are only days away from our unconditional defeat unless we retreat . . . immediately.’ He lifted his arms to plead his case.
The commanders argued about the brutal strategy Michimori and I had devised. Disputes arose – one point, then another, differences, disparities, new ideas, old ideas. Hands in the air. Fists on hips. Yelling. Gesturing. Pointing. Stomping.
Eventually Oak and Large Cicada assented to Michimori’s and my plan. They convinced the others, but agreement came only in the early morning.
Destruction was the only feasible solution: Rokuhara must be burned and destroyed – the entirety of Rokuhara, all five thousand mansions, with the servants’ homes, and especially with all the supplies and food we could not carry. The entire city must be razed. Nothing must be left for the enemy.
I ordered my servants, and they packed everything they could. Within a day everyone had departed.
‘Misuki.’ I checked her eyes, fringed with red. ‘Have you bundled everything?’
She nodded.
With tears, everyone scuttled – like spring birds searching for nest materials – servants, guards, samurai, ladies, wives, concubines, grooms and serving girls. Several small groups of samurai, ordered to leave last, set torches to each estate and storehouse. They planned to set fires from north to south and from west to east.
Red flames and clouds of black smoke consumed the houses as the large column of people moved methodically towards Hōshōji Temple. The ships travelled the route along the northern shore of the Inland Sea. We were bees absconding from a burning hive.
A horse cantered up to me. Tokikazu. He stopped next to me, lifted his head and shook it. I looked at his face. He wiped off the sweat with the back of his hand then rode on.
The smoke rose into the sky, as if from a mountain of rotten incense. The heat of our lives scorched our hearts. It singed our faces, then our backs as we abandoned Rokuhara, riding through the black and grey air.
Michimori passed me on Thunderbolt. He slowed and grabbed my forearm. Tears poured down his sunburned face and his face guard steamed in the cool air, yet his broad features remained stoic. I placed my other hand on top of his. For a precious moment our horses marched in parallel, and then he went on.
Dwellings of Rokuhara
Burning resplendently
Our homes bedazzle the sky
We depart into dimness
Wherever inago leads
VI. Enemies of Enemies
Sailing along the coast, Taira ships loaded with supplies shadowed the troops to provide a quick escape if we were attacked. My husband’s runners, samurai and assistants shuttled to and fro, usually at dusk, night or early morning, and became as commonplace as my storytelling. The commanders joked that they had been weaned on fighting pirates and therefore were happy with our naval strength. Michimori believed it would not be sufficient.
Yashima, a port city along the Inland Sea, afforded a modicum of comfort. Spy-prostitutes brought information about the Minamoto with little danger. I considered my life at Hitomi’s, how different my existence had been there.
Michimori and other commanders needed to learn not only of Rat but also of his cousins, the three pugnacious siblings: Horse, Sheep and Tiger. There was trouble in the Minamoto family, and this might be to our advantage.
One evening Sadakokai brought me Michimori’s order to dine with him. It had been such a long time since my husband had chosen to do that. Fortunately I was like my mother, who barely showed a pregnancy until the last month or so. Also, under my armour and layered robes, my growing belly had not been evident,
and he had not seen beneath as we had not pleasured each other since returning to Rokuhara. He had spurned all my overtures.
‘I like the Inland Sea. Here at Yashima, I can always hear the water,’ I said to Michimori, inside the tent, as he applied incense to his helmet and armour, hoping he would talk to me about something other than tactics, strategies and the enemy, hoping we could return to the intimacy I had enjoyed with him, hoping he would forgive or forget what had estranged him from me.
‘Yes, I, too, find the sound of the ocean pleasant.’
My face warmed at his words. ‘My honourable lord, I am glad it pleases you.’
‘I ordered a meal for tonight that may please both of us.’
Would he at last tell me what had caused him to be remote all this time? Why had he refused my offers to couple? Had I not convinced him before of my honourable behaviour?
He called for servants, who brought food and a small brazier already red with coals. They arranged dishes of rice, turnips and fish, then removed themselves. The light was strong for this time of day, down here in the south, the Hour of the Cock.
‘The dragonflies, I understand, were abundant, earlier in the year. I regret we missed them.’
He spoke to me of dragonflies! ‘I have seen a few blue and purple morning glories, and my servants have found some of the last chestnuts and berries.’ I relaxed with the neutral topic. I allowed my eyes to smile at him. He returned an amicable look, but some of him held back. Large flocks of dunlins sang their ‘jew-lit, jew-lit’ refrain against the green sandpipers and their ‘chooy-lee, chooy-lee’.
‘With all those birds, the fishing must be good, Michimori.’
‘I can trust the birds.’
I chuckled, but the bitterness and desolation radiating from his eyes made me stop. I stepped back and managed to say, ‘Michimori, you can trust more than the birds.’
His posture straightened. ‘The most important aspect of this life is honour and that means trust, loyalty and obedience.’
‘I agree.’ About whom was he speaking?
‘You agree? You?’
His sarcasm penetrated like an arrow into my throat. He was talking about me. Had he believed Large Cicada? How could he after I gave him my word? The world pounded inside my body like a hammer. I struggled to concentrate and speak. After long moments, I was able to say. ‘I do not comprehend your meaning.’
‘I will explain.’ He sat and motioned for me to do so as well.
The hand that gestured was stiff with tension.
He called for servants, who brought a bottle of sake and two cups.
His sandalwood incense mixed with the odd odour of the warming sake. Usually pleasant, they triggered my stomach to clench and push bitterness to my mouth. Lowering my head, away from the odours, I gulped not to retch. I was too advanced to be queasy. The steam from the sake evoked spring and wisteria, poison and death.
‘Do you converse with others about honour?’ Michimori said.
‘My lord, this is a topic I often discuss with Akio, Sadakokai and Mokuhasa.’
‘Not Tokikazu?’ my husband asked, while pouring a cup of sake, his voice like the point of a dagger. He brushed his sword as he handed me the cup.
‘Tokikazu and I have completed our discourse about honour.’ I studied his hand, with my stomach like a ship’s knot. Would he take my head? How could he still not trust me?
‘I would think the topic of honour should always be of interest to you.’ He poured himself a cup.
‘I believe honour is made up of loyalty, truthfulness, obedience and trustworthiness.’
‘You include obedience with honour?’ Michimori said.
I took my cup, stifling another gag. ‘Obedience is essential to honour.’
‘Kozaishō, if you assert all four constituents – all are indispensable to honour . . .’ He leaned over, as he had before he married me, when he had first asked what was in my heart. ‘If this baby is mine then I command you to drink your sake.’
His words slashed like a naginata. I took a long glance at the dark brown eyes I cherished. I had failed in my wifely duties. Wretchedness passed through me. He did not know how much I cared for him – he did not know how far he could trust me. ‘My honourable lord and husband, I do proclaim that all four elements of honour live within me. This baby is yours – as it could only be – and I drink to honour it.’
I raised the cup to my mouth, inhaled its toxic odour, and then, as my heart pounded the drumroll of death, tilted the cup to my lips.
Michimori batted it away with the back of his hand. Sake splashed over me, and shards littered the floor. As he swiped at his eyes, I saw that his hand was speckled with blood.
I awaited his instruction.
His torso and hands trembled. ‘I believe you.’
I pointed to the sake he had poured for himself. Sake from the same bottle as mine. ‘Why?’ The question scratched from my throat.
‘If you had refused to obey me or not convinced me of your honour, I would have drunk the sake.’
I diluted the spilt sake with my tears.
‘Kozaishō, I could not live in a world with your disloyalty, and I would have ended my life. First by drinking the same poison, and then . . .’ With one finger he tapped his sword.
The bottle of sake made its way to the ground outside the tent.
My husband directed the guards not to disturb us. We removed our swords and other impediments.
The rest of the night was as if we had met for the first time, united again. Our melding demonstrated the clean actions from Pure Spirits, of which Obāsan had spoken when I had first met her. At some time in the night, he awakened me with his insistent hands. When we completed, he said, ‘I know.’ He laid his hand on my swelling stomach and stroked it and the baby stirred on its own.
That morning he lifted me and swung me around, laughing. ‘I am thirty years old. This is my first child!’ He patted my stomach and looked at me with shiny brown eyes.
Much later, our army fought at Mizushima, but Taira troops did not walk through much enemy blood because Rat’s troops soon surrendered.
A surprised Oak asked the Council, ‘Why would they do that?’
Michimori concealed his frustration and irritation, and in the telling only straightened his fingers on his leg. ‘I anticipated Rat might gather his remaining troops and retreat to Heian-kyō. He will not risk control of the capital.’
The commanders received this in silence while they lowered their heads, their eyes hollow with the grasp of their thorough and final homelessness. Silent but for, as the kuge said, ‘the weeping on silk sleeves’. I thought of our homes:
Red sky behind us
Rokuhara is burning
Blazing on our eyes
Our home’s annihilation
Smouldering crimson sunsets
In the next days Taira spies in Rat’s camp found the sought-after information. Rat had captured the retired emperor, setting fire to one of the palaces. However, his kinsmen banded together and attacked him near Uji Bridge. Subsequently, scouts suspected that Tiger approached the capital to strike, rather than aid, his cousin Rat. Tiger moved towards the capital, and we defeated an enemy cousin, Boar, who turned against Rat. Rat and his brother-in-law died at Uji, where I had fought my first battle.
My sorrow and Misuki’s tears flowed when we heard about the misery of Lady Tomoe, consort to Rat, after losing both husband and brother in a single battle.
‘I lack her fortitude,’ I whispered into Misuki’s neck, as we held each other.
‘She made her way to Echigo and became a nun to say prayers for her husband and brother.’
I pulled away. ‘Again Lady Tomoe’s courage shames me. I could not bear to be parted from Michimori. The impermanence of the world would vanquish my desire to be alive without my honourable lord.’
Summers without sun?
Springtime when no flowers grow?
Snowless warm winters?
No bur
nished leaves in autumn winds?
Life with no loving lord? No!
While the Minamoto fought among themselves, the Taira leaders convened meetings and committed to a plan. Three bases along the Inland Sea needed strengthening.
‘With Yashima, Hikoshima and Ichinotani,’ Large Cicada argued the obvious, as he did time and again, ‘we can maintain control of the eastern entrance to the Inland Sea.’ All the commanders agreed, because it was the next logical step.
Logical steps in the past had not always been advantageous to the Taira.
BOOK 17
I. Settling
Tomorrow we shall reach Ichinotani. I wish to hear the sea chant again.
Michimori lay beside me, after delight, but his mind revisited the troubles. ‘Fox is trifling with us, dividing us from his guardianship, not giving us his approval. Trying to separate us from the young emperor. After all their complaining,’ he pointed in the direction of the meeting tent, ‘they will discern this . . . eventually.’
He thought of them as a ‘situation’ that required strategies, just as when we played go or backgammon.
‘So, it is time for us to move?’
He did not smile, although he stroked my shoulder. ‘Yes. We should leave Yashima within a day.’ We sat and examined the map next to our futon.
‘Fukuhara?’ I pointed on the map. ‘We could go east by ship.’
He tapped my forehead with his little finger. ‘Precisely. See here? That’s Hiyodori Pass. A gap in those high hills behind the Ichi Valley. The valley goes from Hiyodori Pass to the coast.’ He traced his finger along the map.
‘How safe is the Hiyodori Pass?’
‘The only creatures who can climb it are monkeys.’ Now he emphasised each point by repeatedly stabbing his finger on the map: ‘With the mountains behind us, the sea in front, Ichinotani to the west and Ikutanomori to the east, we should have a safe place while we build our defences. I hope Oak will agree.’
The Pillow Book of the Flower Samurai Page 38