The Heike Story (45 page)

In spite of a few misgivings, the victors were undisturbed by the latest news. "It looks as though Kiyomori has decided to return to the capital. The courier we sent this morning has just arrived back. There is no further news and no way of telling what Kiyomori intends to do next. The next dispatch should tell us that."

The drinking was resumed and Nobuyori turned once more to Yoshihira.

"And by the way, young man, what do you think of all this?"

Yoshihira, who had been listening intently to the fragments of conversation round him, replied eagerly: "Permit me to have a company of soldiers. I will go as far as Abeno and there challenge Kiyomori of the Heike in single combat and bring back his head."

Yoshihira's self-assurance amused the courtiers, who laughed aloud.

Yoshihira gazed around him blankly, uncomprehending.

ORANGES FROM THE SOUTH

The winter sea darkened slowly, taking on the indigo iridescence of fish scales as the sun dropped toward the horizon. Far out on the waters the crest of the waves gleamed white. It was the hour when the vast wheeling of the earth's orb was almost perceptible to the senses in the swiftly ebbing light. The long coastline of Kii Peninsula wrinkled away to the south in a succession of hills, and between them the harbor in Kiribe Bay lay sheltered, smooth as a millpond. A few lights dotted the hamlet lying between the river-mouth and the sea.

"There goes the sun—ah, there it goes down," Kiyomori whispered to the darkening sky and the hillside on which Kiribe Shrine stood. Never, never in all his forty-two years, had he watched a sunset with such bitter repining. This was the 13th of December, the day on which he had received news of dire events in Kyoto.

When his party had recovered from their initial bewilderment, Kiyomori obtained the use of a hall in one of the buildings attached to Kiribe Shrine and called a council; with his men gathered round him, Kiyomori began:

"We must not lose heart in this most disastrous moment of our lives. What, then, are we to do? Shigemori, tell us what you think. Mokunosukй—and the rest of you—speak up. Every one of you tell me what you think should be done."

They had none of them ever seen Kiyomori like this. His seriousness changed him beyond recognition. No longer was he the gay and confident leader they had always known. The thick brows, which gave him an obstinate look, were now drawn together into a heavy line, giving his troubled eyes an anxious frown.

A grim look had replaced Shigemori's usually mild expression.

"Tell us first, Father, what you think. We want nothing more than to live or die with you."

Kiyomori immediately outlined two plans. Shigemori was not in favor of them, and Mokunosukй shook his head. And as they deliberated, the short winter's day drew swiftly to its close.

"Every moment is precious, and we must get rest and sleep or else it will go hard with us tomorrow. Why don't we get the shrine-keepers to give us our supper beside a fire? And you, Mokunosukй, tell the men to cook their meals and get some sleep."

The talk ended when the shrine-keepers arrived in a body to welcome Kiyomori and escorted him to a lodge erected for the use of imperial visitors traveling to Kumano Shrine, several days' journey farther southeast. The open hearth in the guesthouse always surprised visitors from the capital by its great size. Kiyomori sat by a blazing fire and listened to the lonely murmuring of the distant sea.

"Father, you must be tired."

"Oh, is it you, Shigemori? Where's the Old One?"

"He will be here very soon."

"I want only the three of us here together."

"Mokunosukй thought so too, and has gone to see that the men are bedded down for the night."

"How did the men appear?"

"They were badly shaken at first, but seem to have recovered their spirits."

"If any try to slip off, let them go. Don't keep too close a watch on them."

Shrine virgins brought in wine and food, and the chief priest arrived soon after to greet Kiyomori. Kiyomori quickly dispensed with the customary salutations.

"They tell me that the climate in these parts is mild, but at night the sea sounds cold and forbidding. We wish to have our meal here beside the fire, undisturbed, for I have private matters to discuss," he said, quickly coming to the point.

Mokunosukй soon joined the pair.

The two plans which Kiyomori had presented to his men that afternoon were: one, to continue on the pilgrimage, since they were powerless to intervene in the-struggle even if they turned back. At Kumano he would consult the oracle and act on its advice. The other was to return at once to Naniwa (Osaka) and from there sail to Shikoku Island to watch the course of events, and, in the meantime, try to muster an army.

At best, the plans were little more than expedients. Mokunosukй, however, perceived what was going through Kiyomori's mind. Kiyomori feared the enemy in the capital less than treachery among the soldiers who now formed his party, for a handsome reward awaited any man who brought Kiyomori's head to the authorities. This possibility, in turn, seemed to trouble Kiyomori less than the possible fate of his family at Rokuhara. If Kiyomori were to take up arms against Nobuyori and Korekata, they would not hesitate to put Rokuhara to the torch, slaughter the inhabitants, and then demand Kiyomori's surrender. There was no gainsaying this, and whatever Kiyomori decided, it was necessary that he keep his intentions hidden from friend and foe alike, reach Kyoto without delay, and act quickly.

Mokunosukй, his eighty-year-old frame hunched over, faced father and son across the hearth, mumbling indistinctly.

"What's happened in the capital was bound to come. This Old One can hardly believe what you've just said. I realize too well the difficulties you face in getting back to the capital. But, so far as we are concerned, there are enough bows, arrows, and armor for us all."

"Old One, you don't mean that you brought them along?"

"That is part of the warrior's training; I owe this to your late father, Tadamori."

"Well done!"

Shigemori, who had been quietly studying his father's face in the firelight, said:

"Have you decided to hurry back to the capital after all, Father?"

"That speaks for itself. I have no other choice as a warrior. The gods have granted us this chance. The road to Kumano is beset with hardships and perils—like man's journeying through life, Shigemori. You are of age now, and this will be the supreme test of your manhood."

"That it shall be. But what of those at Rokuhara?"

"Yes, we have every reason to fear for them, and that is the main objection to my going back. We had better send a message to the inn at Tanabй by someone we can trust."

"Hanzo is the man for that. What is the message?"

"The chief priest of Kumano is stopping there. I will write him and ask for assistance along the road."

"Would you rather have me go on a matter of such importance?"

"No, that would make it appear that we are desperate. Hanzo will do."

Kiyomori quickly wrote a letter and sent Hanzo off with it. He then told the chief priest that an unexpected summons from the Court called him back to the capital, and added: "As we start before dawn, I must beg your indulgence and allow us to attend the early morning services."

It was still dark when the blaze of cooking-fires lighted up the shrine yard, and long before the first birds were heard, the shrine resounded to rhythmic clapping and the chanting of prayers.

Clad in full armor, Kiyomori, Shigemori, and their soldiers and retainers wound their way slowly north. Each man wore a twig of yew somewhere in his armor. It was customary for pilgrims to carry a twig of yew, sacred to Kiribe Shrine, as a charm.

The priests, who had not yet heard of the uprising in Kyoto, thought that Kiyomori had been summoned by the usual duties of his office and presented him and the others with large branches, which were secured to their saddles. Kiyomori and his men stared curiously at the fragrant globules of mandarin oranges clustering golden among the dark-green leaves. What an addition they would be, Kiyomori thought, to the New Year's feast at Court, where this strange new fruit would cause the courtiers to marvel. Then he wrenched off one of the fruits, peeled it, and tasted it.

"Here, it's delicious!" he cried, turning suddenly in his saddle. "Shigemori—Old One—taste them. There's little chance we'll get back to the capital with these. Here, men, share your oranges among you."

Kiyomori tore off fruit after fruit and tossed them back to the soldiers, who scrambled for them with eager shouts, fighting over them like excited children. The sun was now well above the horizon, and the chill morning air was broken by the sound of laughter which greeted the shower of golden fruit.

Past hamlet after hamlet they rode until sundown, when Kiyomori ordered a halt. The following morning they crossed a mountain pass and pressed on until they reached the Kii River. There they were overtaken by twenty armed horsemen dispatched by the chief priest of Kumano Shrine in answer to Kiyomori's letter.

That same day, as the party were on their way through a defile, they were met by a local chieftain and his thirty retainers. In reply to Kiyomori's questions why they had come, the chieftain answered:

"My father was deeply indebted to your late father, Tadamori, who gave us his protection. I heard that you had suddenly decided to return to the capital because of an uprising there and came to give you warning."

The chieftain then went on to say that rumors had reached the capital that Kiyomori had interrupted his pilgrimage to Kumano. Yoshitomo's son, Yoshihira, with three thousand horse, had arrived at Naniwa (Osaka) and was deploying his soldiers in an arc toward the south, in wait for Kiyomori.

A hot surge of blood raced through Kiyomori's veins. Shigemori's eyes grew tense as they swept the sky to the north. Kiyomori's intentions were now clear to all his followers, and Kiyomori realized that the moment had come when they might yet decide to desert him.

"Here, rest your horses. Finish the rest of the oranges. There are not many left. Divide them among you. Let every man have at least a taste," he ordered, and added, laughing: "Perhaps, your last chance."

His eyes searched the faces around him for the effect his words might have had on them.

Kiyomori's men formed a ring round him on the moor.

"I came thus far planning to cross to Shikoku Island, but have changed my mind. There's no safety anywhere, even if I cross to China itself."

Kiyomori spoke without any sign of being troubled.

"If we turn our backs on the unrest in the capital we shall be safe, but warriors elsewhere will despise the Heike as cowards and refuse us their wholehearted support. It is even more possible that they will rally to the Genji."

The soldiers listened to him intently. From their looks it was plain that no one would follow his suggestion, and Kiyomori suddenly felt shamed by the quizzical glances turned on him. He realized that he was risking his life as much as they, and that they trusted him. Had they intended to desert him, Kiyomori reflected, they had already had ample opportunity to do so.

"I have said enough. This is no time for me to be talking. Though we're only a hundred horse, I am certain that if we are determined, we shall succeed in reaching the capital. And when it becomes known that I am back at Rokuhara, our friends will rally to us. What do you think?"

Loud ayes greeted Kiyomori, for every soldier was anxious about the wife and children he had left in the capital.

Kiyomori continued: "One difficulty still lies before us. I have been told that Yoshihira of the Genji and three thousand horse are lying in wait for us farther north. They are thirty to our one."

It was now the soldiers' turn to persuade Kiyomori of their determination to return to the capital, and they assured him that they were ready to face unnumbered enemies, to follow him wherever he led, and to show how mighty were the arms of the Heike.

Kiyomori needed no more assurances. Whatever doubts he had had about his soldiers vanished. He then ordered his men to feed and water their horses, cook their evening meal, and look to the cords of their sandals and armor and prepare to charge through enemy territory that same night.

They rested and waited until sundown before starting, and the last rays of the sun slanted golden across the cavalcade as it moved slowly north along the coast.