Authors: Eiji Yoshikawa
"How do you find this, my lord?"
"Very nicely done indeed, and all in such a short time."
"Those words, my lord, are ample reward for the Nose. I find myself in disgrace with her ladyship, and you do nothing but harry me with orders to get this done quickly and in utmost secrecy. ... I haven't slept a wink these two nights and days."
"This will do for the present. Now what about Tokiwa?"
"That will have to wait until late tonight when the streets are deserted. I'll see that she's brought here then."
"I see. That's off my mind, then. Now I leave it to you to fix matters with people—explanations and the rest, you know. And you'll be sure that she needs nothing."
"Leaving already?"
"I shan't be around for some time perhaps—difficulties at home," Kiyomori admitted wryly, though he departed with a pleased air.
As he had himself predicted, Kiyomori did not appear at the villa again. It was easy to believe that Tokiko's vigilance would continue for some time to come. More than that, however, he could not see how his duties at the Court would end early enough for an evening's drive to the villa on his way home.
The Nose, however, was punctual in his morning and evening visits to the villa, where he made his regular inquiries after Tokiwa's health and comfort. He was solicitude itself.
"My lady, has Lord Kiyomori not yet paid you a single call? No? Tut-tut, a fickle one indeed!"
Tokiwa had not forgotten Yoshitomo. From her window she could see the outlines of Kurama Mountain and the sky over that distant spot where her children now were. The comfort which now surrounded her daily grew oppressive. No day went by that she did not kneel at her oratory before the image of the Kannon, praying for her children's safety, and commending them to the Kannon's care. It was a small silver image that Yoshitomo had given her in those happy days long ago, and to look on it was to recall not only her children, but Yoshitomo's face and his gentle ways. For Tokiwa the sweetest moments of the day were when she knelt at her prayers.
Yet there were times when she grew hot with shame and was tortured by self-recriminations. What caused her to sit and wait as though she expected someone to come? The villa lay at the edge of a wood by a little-used road on the edge of the capital, and the rare grinding of wheels on the road always startled her into an awareness that made every nerve taut with hope. Her heart would beat wildly, expectant, and then she would sink back once more.
Was she evil to feel as she did, she asked herself. What was this mad thing that possessed her? This aching body, these torturing thoughts from which she could find no escape? And often through the warm spring nights her tears wetted her pillow as her heart ached for her children and for Yoshitomo, while her body waited strangely for Kiyomori, whom she desired and hated.
"Is it true, Shika?"
"I swear to it, and that's why I came back as fast as my legs would carry me."
The Nose groaned, and then said: "Good! I'm glad you told me. I'll go myself to make sure. Now you lead the way."
"But there's no telling whether we'll find anyone in now."
"Well anyway, a little reconnoitering," the Nose said briskly, and with a great show of spirit he started out from his shop on Fifth Avenue.
The cherries were beginning to shed their petals and the leaf-buds to show red on the boughs. The wind smelled of April.
"Down that side-street—there," said Shika, pointing in the direction of an open field on whose farther side a settlement of small houses had lately sprung up.
"How many houses down that side-street?"
"The fifth or the sixth, but you can't tell anything from looking at it as you go by. It has a hedge and small wicket gate, but they're all pretty much alike in that row of Heike houses."
"Yes, I know . . ." the Nose said, pinching his chin reflectively.
This was what his chief clerk, Shika, had heard while passing through the settlement: a nondescript soldier called Rokuro, living in one of the houses there, had taken in a lodger since early spring. The fellow in question seemed to be a young warrior, short but well-built, from some out-of-the-way place, who went about telling people that he was Rokuro's cousin from Tamba and looking for employment as a servant at Rokuhara. No post, the lodger said, was too menial. There seemed to be nothing wrong with him and people did not question his story until an elderly woman, who washed and mended for Rokuro, a widower, spread a tale of strange doings under Rokuro's roof. It was purely by chance, she claimed, that she saw Rokuro's cousin at breakfast one morning. There was nothing unusual in that, except that she had seen Rokuro waiting respectfully on his cousin; what was more, Rokuro gave his cousin the choicest bits of food, while he consumed cold morsels of whatever remained. An extraordinary performance among the half-starved common people.
When Shika heard this, he recalled that the Nose had several times mentioned his search for a "little fellow." Shika could only conclude that this was he—Yoshihira of the Genji. He had then gone to Rokuro's house, confirmed his suspicions, and flown back to the shop on Fifth Avenue with the news.
"Shika, you wait here in this field. Two of us would make it conspicuous."
"Standing here would be just as bad."
"Stroll around a bit then, while I take a look at that house myself."
Bamboku made off for a side-street. "Fifth—sixth—?" He came to a stop. Warriors were warriors, no matter how poor, and each house had its screening hedge and a small wicket gate, but no name-plate. "Let me see—" The Nose stood in a quandary, until he heard a high-pitched laugh. A tallish soldier accompanied by a rather short companion stepped out from a near-by gate and threw the Nose a searching stare as he passed him.
"Rokuro, did you see that fellow with the disagreeable eyes loitering in front of the house? Is he one of the neighbors?" Yoshihira inquired of his companion as they turned off the lane.
"No, he doesn't appear to be anyone from these poor quarters. He's more like a merchant from one of those large establishments on Fifth or Sixth Avenue."
"What makes you think so?"
"His air and the expensive clothes he wore."
"And did you see that magnificent red nose? A man with an evil eye I could see. You'd better be on your guard, Rokuro."
"I shall. He doesn't seem to be following us, though."
Rokuro kept looking back over his shoulder until the Nose was out of sight. But the pair did not notice Shika, who came strolling toward them at a signal from Bamboku. They kept on, skirting puddles and ruts, past the cluttered craftsmen's settlement of blacksmiths, tanners, makers of bows, dyers, and saddlers.
"Look, Rokuro, these people seem busier than they ever were before the last war."
"True, Rokuhara prospers and the sound of anvils and bellows is heard even at night."
"Arms for the Heike?"
"Undoubtedly, now that the Genji have been driven out."
Yoshihira suddenly began to study the scene around him with a bitter look. Yes, he thought, what changes had taken place since the Genji had been driven from the capital! All the familiar sights seemed to have vanished; what he now saw and heard made him despair. He himself had been given up for dead when a rumor spread that he had been captured and executed. The truth was that he had escaped north to the country of Echizen and stayed in hiding until it was safe for him to return to Kyoto.
Rokuhara's influence could be seen everywhere—even in matters of fashion and dress Rokuhara was the arbiter. Not only court circles, but merchants and craftsmen sought Kiyomori's patronage. Life itself appeared to revolve around Rokuhara, the life-giving sun! Yoshihira fumed with helpless rage at the fickleness of men and their readiness to take advantage of the new order. This was the first shattering upheaval he had known in his twenty years, and he was convinced that this state of affairs would never end. The world seemed to hold out nothing for him now except the dedicating of his life to revenge—death to Kiyomori for the honor of the Genji.
Shortly after returning to the capital, Yoshihira chanced to meet Rokuro, formerly a soldier in Yoshitomo's employ. As Rokuro later related, he had been one of the many soldiers captured by the Heike and later hired as a mercenary at Rokuhara. As a result of their unlooked-for meeting, Rokuro, overjoyed, offered to shelter Yoshihira, advising him to wait for a chance to take his revenge. Not long after that Rokuro heard of Kiyomori's nightly visits to Tokiwa, and with Yoshihira planned the attack on Kiyomori. Though the attempt on Kiyomori's life failed, Yoshihira was convinced that Kiyomori was an easy mark.
One other would-be assassin too was in hiding—Konno-maru, the young captain who had turned back in the snowstorm to find Yoritomo. Failing in his search, Konno-maru had returned to the capital and there kept close watch on Kiyomori's movements, seeking a chance to revenge his dead lord, Yoshitomo. In the meantime the gossip about Tokiwa reached his ears, and Konno-maru was filled with rage and contempt at her faithlessness.
Yoshihira and Rokuro were now on their way to meet Konno-maru at a saddler's shop. They had seen him several times before this in different parts of the capital, and their brief impassioned talks had always been of revenge.
"There, Rokuro, there it is. I see the saddler's shop."
"So it is, and he's at work, too. Shall we go and speak to him quietly?"
"Wait, remember what Konno-maru said—to go in as if we had business. He has some understanding with the saddler, but we'll need to be careful of the apprentices. We can't take any risks with them."
"Yes, he told me that repeatedly. Wait somewhere while I go and talk to him."
"I'll go over there, behind that shrine," Yoshihira replied, pointing to a spot on the farther side of a pond.
An ancient shrine stood in a small wood, ravaged and neglected. Yoshihira looked about him, at the tassels of wistaria which hung from the eaves of the shrine, at the branches of the surrounding trees and the golden globeflowers fringing the edge of the water. Konno-maru with Rokuro presently appeared and was about to kneel at Yoshihira's feet, when Yoshihira warned him sharply:
"Careful now, people might see us and suspect. We're no longer master and retainer, but outlaws. Come, sit here beside me."
Yoshihira pointed to a stump as he spoke. "Have you heard anything more, Konno-maru?"
"Nothing about Kiyomori, but did you know that Tokiwa has been moved very quietly to a villa on the edge of the capital?"
"So I hear, but I'm told that Kiyomori hasn't been there even once. I'm waiting for a chance to attack him when he goes there."
"I'm sure he's been on his guard since that night, but out chance is sure to come."
"Yes, sometime."
"Every day drags by filled with regrets. There's no day in which I do not think of my lord."
"The same is true of me when I think of my father."
"And what, sir, do you think of the lady, Tokiwa?"
"She?"
"Should we let her remain alive?"
"We'll not talk about her."
"No, that's not possible. How can we ignore the shame she has brought on the Genji by consenting to become Kiyomori's mistress?"
"Don't forget that because of her the three children have been saved, Konno-maru."
"That's what people say, but how do we know that she sacrificed herself for her children? I doubt it. I'm certain that ambition led her to forget your father and to give herself to Kiyomori."
"What makes you think so?"
"Because she refused to kill herself and follow her lord."
"That's asking too much. You judge her too harshly."
"Harsh, yes, but you must remember, sir, that I grew up in the service of your father," Konno-maru remonstrated. "I was his most trusted retainer and carried his messages to Tokiwa when she was with Lady Shimeko. I was often present when my lord was with his lady. I know how much he loved her. . . . Do you think I can forgive her for what she has done? The war is over, certainly, but what is to keep me from avenging my lord, whom she has betrayed?"
"So, Konno-maru, you intend to kill her?"
"Being a woman, I doubt that she'd have the courage to kill herself. It would be an act of mercy if I did it and wiped out the disgrace she has brought on the Genji."