Shike, page 67
Then Yukio read, "I have tried to warn the lieutenant that he is permitting a great wrong to be done to himself, his family and his loyal followers. Honour forbids him to hear my warning. Therefore honour requires me to choose this drastic way of reaching his ear. I plead with him not to let my death and the deaths of those close to me go to waste." Yukio stopped, unable to continue, filled to overflowing with tears. He thrust the scroll at Jebu.
Jebu found the place where Yukio had left off and took up the reading. "My lord, your brother sat safely in Kamakura while you were in the forefront of every battle. He envies your glory and fears your prowess, and he means to destroy you. Your enemies are gathering. Your brother presumes, as did the Takashi, to give orders to the Emperor himself. Shall the Sacred Islands be enslaved by another upstart tyrant? My lord, place yourself at His Imperial Majesty's disposal before it is too late. Arise. Arm yourself. Attack."
"Read no more," said Yukio. "This is treason."
"It is you who are betrayed, my lord," said Shenzo Totomi.
Yukio shook his head. "I have never wanted anything but the victory of the Muratomo, and the chieftain of the Muratomo is my brother, Lord Hideyori, the Shogun."
"Your first loyalty is to the Emperor and to the Sacred Islands, honoured lieutenant," said Totomi quietly.
Yukio's large eyes bulged with rage. "Do not call me by that title. I have relinquished it. Do you dare to tell me my duty?" His pale face darkened to a deep red, and Jebu tensed himself, because he had never seen Yukio become this angry without reaching for his sword. Then Yukio smiled and sighed. "I am sorry I spoke harshly to you. I forgive your forwardness. You are the son of an old comrade, and you have just lost your father. Remember this, though. Lord Muratomo no Hideyori is the protector of the Retired Emperor and of the Sacred Islands. His every action is for the good of the Crown and the realm."
Shenzo Totomi's eyes fell. "My lord, there was more to the testament. My father asks you to accept me in his place as your vassal."
Yukio put his hand on the young man's shoulder. "It is a great gift that your honoured father and you offer me, but if I accepted you into my service now I would expose you to mortal danger. I will not do that to the son of an old friend. The day may come when I will be able to receive your oath of fealty. Eor now, be patient, Totomi-san. I shall see you again at your father's funeral."
That night, Jebu and Yukio sat up talking until the hour of the rat. Yukio was melancholy. He seemed unable to make plans or decisions, even though he agreed with Jebu's assessment of the situation. As Jebu saw it, Hideyori had decided that he no longer needed Yukio, and he feared that Yukio might become a leader for those who opposed the new military government. Yukio had only two choices. He could go into hiding or he could do what Hideyori seemed to be expecting him to do, raise a revolt against the Shogun. If he did try to flee, Hideyori would undoubtedly track him down and try to kill him. Yukio's only hope was to fight back now, while there were many who still were willing to join him.
Yukio smiled sadly. "Have you forgotten the years of blood and fire and famine? Do you want me to plunge the country into another war, just to save my own life?" Jebu had no answer. He wished Taitaro were there to advise them. His hand stole into his tunic pocket and fingered the Jewel of Life and Death.
"If I must flee," said Yukio, "I can go north to Oshu where my wife and children are, where my father's old ally, Lord Hidehira, can protect me from my brother's hatred."
"You are the only man in the Sunrise Land strong enough to stand up to Hideyori," said Jebu. "If you run from him, I doubt that anyone can protect you for long."
"I will not break with my brother until I have made one last attempt to convince him that I am loyal and he has nothing to fear from me. I owe that much to our father and to our family."
Looking at his friend, Jebu felt as if he were seeing Yukio's face for the first time. Gaunt and lined, it could have been the face of a saintly abbot-Buddhist, not Zinja-steeped in awareness of the suffering and transience of all things. He did not look like a man about to lead warriors into battle.
The glory of the Takashi is reduced to a few crimson rags drifting on the sea, Jebu thought, and now the glory of Muratomo no Yukio withers before my eyes.
From a letter from Muratomo no Yukio to Muratomo no Hideyori:
. . . All my life I have wanted only one thing, to be with my family. Our father was torn from us when I was an infant, and from that day to this my mind had never been at peace for a single moment. I grew up an orphan. Now I beg you, elder brother, to be a father to me. Weeping tears of blood, I beg of you to turn your wrath aside from me. I want nothing for myself. My victories were your victories. If my success in war has made you hate me, I wish I _might have died on the battlefield. I have fought for only one reason, that I might expunge the disgrace, defeat and sorrow suffered by our father. I accepted the title of lieutenant and the other honours because I thought they would bring glory to the Muratomo. You are our father's successor on earth, and I live only to serve you. All that I have done, I lay at your feet. Let me come to you and plead my innocence face-to-face. Do not spurn me, for if you do, where on this earth can I turn?
-Second Month, twelfth day
YEAR OF THE SHEEP
A month after Yukio sent the letter, Jebu unrolled his futon and lay down to sleep, as usual, just outside Yukio's bedchamber. Erom within he heard the plaintive sound of Yukio's flute accompanying a woman's sweet voice raised in song. The singer was a young woman named Shizumi, whom Yukio had taken as a mistress upon his triumphal return to the capital after Shimonoseki. Besides having a beautiful voice, she was considered the finest dancer in the land. Jebu lit a lamp and sat cross-legged on his mat, revolving the Jewel of Life and Death in his fingers as the mournful music fell, note by note, on his ears. That men and women could take the crude clay of painful human existence and shape it into poetry, music, art and dance was, at times, all that made life bearable. Tonight was the night of the full moon, whose beauty fascinated poets and scholars. Jebu lay down and dozed, but sleep came with difficulty. He could not forget that it was under a full moon that Taniko had lain in his arms for the first time.
He was suddenly awakened by the sound of stealthy footsteps in a near-by room. Eor a moment he was still reliving that night nearly thirty years ago when Taniko's soft footfall had roused him from sleep. Then he came back to the present. As always when he was unexpectedly awakened, he remained motionless. To the ear of a Zinja or any well-trained assassin, there was a difference between the small sounds made by a sleeping person and those made by one only pretending to be asleep. Jebu knew how to imitate those sounds. He allowed his body to shift from time to time as a sleeper would, all the while listening carefully to the movements in the next chamber. There were two, perhaps three, men on bare feet. They had avoided the singing boards placed throughout Yukio's mansion, floorboards that would creak loudly when stepped on. That meant they had help from members of Yukio's household.
Jebu heard a screen sliding back. Clearly the intruders were not trained to make an inaudible approach. Yukio's samurai guards might not hear anything, but to a Zinja it was as if an ox were being led through the mansion. The enemy probably knew Jebu was outside Yukio's room, and now that they could see him, they would try to kill him. At that very thought, Jebu heard the faint rasp of an arrow being pulled from its quiver and the creak of a bow being drawn. When he heard the archer take a sharp breath just before he let go the bowstring, he rolled to, one side. The arrow thudded into the futon. Jebu shouted an alarm, seized his naginata and sprang. The archer was still holding the bow extended when Jebu drove his stiffened fingers into the man's windpipe, crushing it.
"Wolf! Wolf!" a man cried from behind the falling archer. At that signal more dark figures crowded into the room. Jebu swung the naginata in an arc that sliced through two of the attackers. Now there was light. The young dancer Shizumi stood in a white silk robe like the statue of a goddess, calmly holding aloft a lantern as her lover, Yukio, rushed into the fray, slashing with his long sword, recklessly naked, as if he didn't care whether an enemy blade bit into his unprotected flesh. Jebu scanned the raiding party looking for a leader. It would be important to leave at least one of the would-be assassins alive, to find out who was trying to kill Yukio. All the attackers were ragged Heian Kyo street toughs, except for one who wore black armour and had the shaven head of a Buddhist monk. As Yukio's guard poured into the room and blood splashed on the floor and flecked the walls, Jebu fell upon the warrior monk and knocked him senseless with the pole of his naginata.
Moments later all the attackers except the monk had been cut to bits. The monk lay in Yukio's bedchamber, glaring sullenly as Yukio pressed the point of his sword into his throat. He was stripped of his armour and wore only his saffron under robe. According to Yukio's guards there were twelve dead raiders in the anteroom.
"Tell me at once who sent you, or I'll cut your throat," Yukio demanded.
The captured assassin's brown eyes remained opaque, his thin lips closed. "I'll have him talking in an hour, my lord," said the captain of the guard, anxious to make amends for his failure to protect Yukio.
"I would rather you inspected the household," Jebu said. "Eind out how many guards these men had to bribe or kill to gain access to Lord Yukio." He smiled at the captive. "You and I are going to drink ch'ai and talk together, as one monk with another."
When the ch'ai was brought, Jebu sat companionably on a straw mat beside the prisoner, who refused even to tell his name. Jebu poured a cupful of the steaming green liquid for himself and a cup for the monk. To the monk's cup he added a white powder from a paper packet. When he held out the cup, the monk pressed his lips tightly together and shook his head. Still smiling, Jebu reached over and pressed a spot under the monk's ear. The shaven-headed man's mouth dropped open, though he remained seated upright. Jebu put his hand over the monk's face, pinching his nostrils together and tilting his head back. He poured ch'ai down the captive's throat.
"Now you will join me in prayer," Jebu said. "Homage to Amida Buddha." Slowly, softly, Jebu droned the invocation over and over. At first the monk sat silently. Then, as if his lips and tongue had acquired a life of their own, he joined in the prayer. "Very good," Jebu said. "Continue by yourself, please." The monk went on repeating the invocation, his voice flat, lifeless. At last Jebu said, "Now stop." He leaned forward, bringing his face closer to the other man's.
"What is your name?"
"Yato," said the monk in an empty voice.
"What monastery are you from, Monk Yato?"
"The Rodojo-ji, at Hyogo."
"That temple was endowed by the Takashi," said Yukio. "Hyogo was their chief seaport. This monk must have been trying to avenge them." He was sitting on his sleeping dais, dressed now in tunic and trousers, his sword in his lap. Shizumi crouched in a corner, the dark eyes in her pale face like two inkblots on a sheet of paper.
"I doubt it," said Jebu. "Now, Yato. You are a holy man. You have taken the Buddhist vow never to injure any living thing. You should take up arms only in defence of your temple. Yet, you tried to assassinate this noble lord who has never harmed a holy place. You have broken your vow, have you not?"
"My abbot commanded me," said Yato dully. "I could not disobey."
"So, you had to choose between your duty to your abbot and fidelity to your vow," said Jebu gently. "That must have been hard. You carry a heavy karmic burden. If you tell us now why your abbot commanded you to kill Lord Yukio, it would lighten your karma somewhat."
The monk's shaven head glistened with sweat. "I am not permitted to tell."
"Your superiors have forfeited their right to your obedience," said Jebu. "You are guilty of many wrongful deaths. The men you hired to help you in this attack, the guards you killed breaking into this mansion. Their angry spirits will pursue you until you atone."
"We did not kill any guards. We bribed those who were on duty to let us in."
"We will have to discover and execute the guards you bribed," said Jebu. "You are responsible. Who instructed your abbott to send you?" The monk's lips moved, but he made no sound.
"You must tell me, Yato."
The cords in Yato's neck stood out as he struggled with himself. At last, in a strangled voice, he said, "It was the lord of Kamakura." "No!" Yukio cried.
Now that the barrier was broken, Yato's words poured out. "It was Muratomo no Hideyori, honoured Shogun of the Sunrise Land. He promised benefits to our temple if we did what he asked of us and said we would suffer great harm if we did not. My Eather Abbot told me I would be acting for the protection of my temple."
"This monk lies," Yukio snarled, gripping his sword hilt.
Jebu held up his hand in a restraining gesture. "In his present condition, he cannot lie. You do not want to see what is so, do you, Yukio-san?"
Tears sparkled in Yukio's eyes. "It is the end of all my dreams. I've helped to rebuild this land, and now there is no place for me in it. I can't rebel against my brother. All I want to do is serve him. Why won't he accept me? Why does he try to kill me? There is only one thing left for me to do. I must go to Kamakura alone and unarmed."
"Do you think this monk is the only assassin your brother has sent out against you? He is too careful for that."
"The Zinja monk speaks the truth," a hollow voice said unexpectedly. Yukio and Jebu turned to Yato.
"What more can you tell us?" said Jebu.
"My abbot said that whether our effort to kill Lord Yukio succeeded or failed, the lord of Kamakura is sending an army to seize Heian Kyo and wipe out all Lord Yukio's friends and followers. The barbarian horsemen from the Sunset Land are even now on their way."
"The Mongols?" said Yukio, stunned. "Have the Mongols turned against me?"
"Were they ever really for you?" said Jebu. "You no longer have an army of your own to command, Yukio-san. You cannot make a stand here. We must gather those we trust and escape from the capital at once." A picture of Arghun Baghadur riding at the head of his tuman arose in Jebu's mind. If the Mongols travelled with their usual speed, they might be here before the news of their coming could precede them.
Staring uncomprehendingly, his cheeks still wet with tears, Yukio slowly stood up. Jebu had never seen him like this. He had to resist an impulse to shake his friend. He gestured to Shizumi, who was already gathering Yukio's robes, to help him dress and went out to give the necessary orders to the household.
Chapter Twenty
From the pillow book of Shima Taniko:
Hideyori tells me again and again how valuable my counsel will be to him when I am his wife, but he rarely consults me-these days. Marriage seems no closer. Horigawa still lives. All my news comes from the various lords and samurai officers who flatter me by calling on me when they come to Kamakura to report to the Bakufu. I suppose they cultivate me because I am close to Hideyori, but I like to think they also find my company interesting for its own sake.
Uncle Ryuichi is particularly helpful in keeping me informed. He says Yukio has disappeared and that he has only a dozen followers left, if that many, in the whole country. Last month Yukio raised a rebellion against Hideyori. He claimed that Hideyori had sent assassins to kill him. Hideyori, of course, denied it, charging that Yukio had arranged the incident to give himself justification for making war on his brother. Go-Shirakawa was convinced, though. He gave Yukio a commission ordering him to chastize Hideyori as a rebel against the throne and an enemy of the Court. But Hideyori had already sent the Mongols to arrest Yukio, and Yukio was forced to flee the capital. When the Mongol army got near, Go-Shirakawa withdrew the commission and sent an apology to Hideyori, saying he had issued it under duress. Yukio fled south to Hyogo with a thousand warriors.
When he sailed from Hyogo one of those great storms that the Chinese call tai-phun came up and wrecked his ships near Shimonoseki, the very place where he won his great victory over the Takashi only two years ago. It is said that the angry ghosts of the Takashi called up the storm. I wonder if the ghost of my beloved Atsue was among them. There are rumours among the local fishermen that the shells of crabs caught in Simonoseki waters bear the imprint of the faces of Takashi warriors.
Yukio left his mistress, Shizumi, behind at Hyogo, which probably saved her life, but she was quickly captured by Hideyori's men. Poor thing, I hear she's pregnant. Now Hideyori has his men searching everywhere for Yukio. Even though Yukio was generally loved, when it came to an open break between the brothers, almost all samurai hastened to side with Hideyori. He has lands and offices to give away while Yukio has nothing to offer but an unprofitable struggle against injustice.
Eor it is an injustice, what Hideyori is doing to Yukio; even I admit that in my heart.
Insisting that Yukio is still a threat to the peace and good order of the realm, Hideyori has extorted enormous concessions from the Court. He has been granted the power to tax the rice harvest of every estate in the Sunrise Land, income which he says he needs to pay for troops to search for Yukio. He also has the authority to appoint stewards and oryoshi in every province to enforce his decrees and collect the taxes. Land, after all, is everything. Now Hideyori has control of all the land in the realm, and Yukio helped him get it. Also, at his insistence, the vacant throne is at last to be occupied by the Imperial candidate of his choosing, Kameyama, a young grandson of Go-Shirakawa. So Hideyori is now a maker of Emperors. I have known many leaders-Sogamori, Kiyosi, Kublai Khan, Yukio-but Hideyori has started with the least and accomplished the most of all of them.
It does not trouble me that he is too busy to pay much attention to me. Another man now absorbs all my time and thought, even though he is only five years old. Of course, I could let my ladies take charge of his care and education, but I do not trust the women Hideyori has appointed to serve me. Some are doubtless spies who might report any careless remark or small act of Sametono's to Hideyori in an unfavourable light.
