Authors: Eiji Yoshikawa
Konno-maru was as good as his word and appeared at Asatori's house on the following night. After repeating his warnings of secrecy, he left a small sealed packet and went away.
"What do you suppose is in it?" Asatori asked anxiously.
"Just a letter, I'm sure," Yomogi replied assuringly, full of anticipations of the coming visit. "Not one, but a number of them. And when do you think you can come with me?"
"Any day. Aren't you afraid people will suspect us?"
"Why should they?"
"People still remember that Lady Tokiwa once had connections with the Genji, and if we go—"
"After all, I was only a servant and was with my lady even after she married again. I can't see why people would suspect me. Besides, you haven't yet paid your respects to her and it's about time that you did, now that we're married. Don't you agree with me?"
THE GENJI WILL RISE AGAIN
A few days later Asatori, turned out in a fresh suit of clothes that Yomogi had laid out for him, and Yomogi in her holiday best set out for the mansion on First Avenue where Tokiwa now lived.
Tokiwa was now past her middle thirties. She had had one child by her second marriage to an elderly Fujiwara courtier, but because of her delicate health lived alone like a recluse in a distant wing of the large, shabby mansion. Few visitors ever came to call on her, and her solitude was only interrupted by priests who came to say Mass on certain holy days.
Konno-maru alone visited her regularly, and in secret, bringing her news of her three sons. And whenever Konno-maru came to see her he talked of the future with passion, saying:
"The Heike would never dream of what is happening in the east, but their triumph will not last forever. They are drunk with power and cannot realize that the Genji will some day take their revenge. Yoritomo in Izu is now a man, and your youngest son, Ushiwaka, on Kurama Mountain, too, will soon reach manhood."
Tokiwa, who was all too familiar with the horrors of war, shuddered each time Konno-maru talked in this strain. Nor was she convinced that a few surviving Genji could ever supplant the Heike, and she pleaded with Konno-maru over and over again, saying: "Do not let my sons be drawn into that fearful abyss, Konno-maru. Never speak to them of such things."
She yearned most for Ushiwaka. He was fifteen—high-spirited and headstrong, she had heard, for he alone of her three sons kept insisting that Konno-maru should bring him to see her. He had even threatened to come alone. And Tokiwa was tempted beyond reason to agree to his coming when Konno-maru said:
"My lady, I beg you to come as far as the thickets along the upper part of the river where he can see you at a distance."
But she knew what risks Ushiwaka would be taking, and most of all she was certain that once he gained his freedom, he would never consent to return to the monastery on Kurama Mountain. She finally refused to see Konno-maru any more and sent him word by her maid that she was ill.
All the doors and windows of Tokiwa's room were closed excepting those facing on an inner court. Tokiwa was engrossed in her daily task of copying the sutras, when her maid appeared and announced that two visitors had come to call. Tokiwa's surprise turned to joy when she heard who they were, and she hurriedly pushed aside her writing-table to receive them.
Yomogi forgot her carefully rehearsed greetings and burst into tears on seeing her former mistress.
"How good of you to come, Yomogi!" Tokiwa said. "It's so many years since we last saw each other. And how you've changed since you married!"
As the two eagerly greeted each other, Asatori studied Tokiwa's appearance with the practiced eye of a physician. He saw nothing wrong with her. The talk meanwhile drifted to Konno-maru, and Asatori was forgotten until Yomogi suddenly recalled her reason for coming.
"Konno-maru was telling us that you were ill, but fortunately my husband, who is a physician, has come with me today. This is Asatori," Yomogi said, introducing her husband for the first time. With great pride she explained that Asatori had once been a court musician, who had given up his profession to study medicine.
Asatori sat across from his talkative wife and listened with an occasional nod of agreement. Then Tokiwa turned to him, gently smiling.
"I am sorry that you were so anxious about me. To tell you the truth, I am not at all ill. I was afraid that people might otherwise gossip, and I thought it would discourage Ushiwaka from coming if Konno-maru told him I was unwell. If Ushiwaka should escape from Kurama Mountain and come here, I know that it will be the end of him."
A few tears rolled down Tokiwa's cheek as she spoke. Yomogi tactfully produced a small packet and placed it before Tokiwa.
"This is something Konno-maru sent you, my lady."
Tokiwa stared at the small object, overcome by a wild longing. Then she rapidly opened it. It could only have come from Ushiwaka, her instinct told her—Ushiwaka, of whom she heard nothing but tales of wrongdoing. He was wild and mischievous, the terror of all the monasteries on Kurama Mountain and detested by all the monks. The Abbot had finally washed his hands of the boy and sent him to a brother abbot, who also found him incorrigible. And the yearly reports on his conduct which reached Kiyomori grew so alarming that an officer finally arrived from Rokuhara to look into this deplorable state of affairs. And the last that Tokiwa heard was that the civil authorities had redoubled their vigilance over Ushiwaka.
Next year he would be sixteen, old enough to take holy orders, Tokiwa reflected, old enough to mourn his father's death through treachery and his mother's unhappy fate. And her only prayer had been that he would cease to rebel against captivity, bow to his fate, and live out the rest of his days in peace.
From the packet Tokiwa drew forth a bright-colored sleeve, the sleeve from an acolyte's robe, wrapped around a letter.
"My mother," the letter ran:
Are you well again? After Konno-maru told me you were ill, I have dreamed of you every night. From the top of this mountain I can see the lights of the capital and I look in the direction of your home, praying that you will soon be well.
They tell me that I am to take the tonsure this year, but I do not want to become like these monks.
This sleeve is from the robe that I wore when I was seven and first took part in the sacred dramas. Of course, I have grown since then.
The Great Festival of Kurama Mountain falls on the 20th of June. I may take part in the sacred dramas then, but I cannot tell what will happen to me, next year.
My mother, send me by Konno-maru some little thing you have worn.
It is still cold this spring, so you must take your medicines and recover quickly.
Your son, Ushiwaka
Tokiwa's tears fell on the small sheet of paper, from which she seemed unable to tear her eyes. Then she held it out to Yomogi, saying "Yomogi—read it," and fell to weeping again over the sleeve Ushiwaka had sent.
Yomogi and Asatori exchanged looks of pity and prepared to cut short a visit that had only saddened Tokiwa instead of cheering her, but Tokiwa pressed them to stay until the lamps were lit.
When they finally took their leave, she brought out a small case, saying: "There is a letter inside this for Ushiwaka. Will you see that he gets it?"
The case, small enough to rest in the palm of a hand, held a silver image of the Kannon and a folded sheet of paper.
As soon as Asatori and Yomogi reached their home, they placed the image on a table.
"How can we be sure that Ushiwaka gets this without anyone seeing us? There will be too many people watching us on Kurama Mountain. We shall get into trouble if the authorities at Rokuhara find out," Asatori ruminated.
Yomogi gave a deep sigh. "I wonder why she does it."
"What do you mean?"
"What I mean is—if my lady is so worried about Ushiwaka, why does she refuse to see Konno-maru?"
Asatori leaned toward his wife. "It's not quite so simple as you think. Konno-maru's idea of loyalty is quite different from my lady's."
"In what way?" ,
"I'd better not tell you."
"Not even me—your wife?"
"Now, Yomogi, you're too easily offended."
"After all, she was my beloved mistress, and I used to carry Ushiwaka on my back and look after him, begging for milk for him. I did all sorts of things for him, and there isn't much that I wouldn't do for him now. Why shouldn't I? It's only natural, isn't it?"
"Well, Yomogi, I'm not saying you mustn't. What Konno-maru wants for Ushiwaka is quite the opposite of what Lady Tokiwa wants for him."
"The opposite?"
"Yes, that's the point. We'll have to think very carefully before we do anything."
"Yes, but what do you mean by anything? What do you mean by opposite? You'll have to explain all that to me first."
Asatori's voice dropped to a whisper as he cautiously peered out of the window. "Look here, Yomogi, you are rather talkative, so you'll have to take very great care that no one hears about this."
"I'm just a chatterbox, anyway, so there!"
"No, Yomogi, don't get into a huff like that! First listen to what I'm going to tell you. Why do you suppose Lady Tokiwa has gone on living and enduring all that humiliation?"
"It's because of Lord Yoshitomo's last words to her, of course. After all, he loved her and she had three children by him. . . . And even when her heart was broken and her children taken from her, my lady's only thought has been for them. I'd do the same if I were in her place."
"With Konno-maru it's quite another matter, though. He's a warrior and he never forgets it. Loyalty, as he understands it, means that he must make sure that one of the children succeeds his father, Lord Yoshitomo, as chief of the Genji. That is to say, the Genji must one day become powerful enough to overthrow the Heike."
"That should make my lady happy."
"Ah, Yomogi, have you already forgotten what it was like during the Hogen and Heiji wars? You still tell me about the terrible hardships you went through with Lady Tokiwa and the children. Don't you remember all the sad things that happened to you? Of course, it wasn't as if Ushiwaka was your own flesh and blood."
"What makes you say that?"
"If you'd been Lady Tokiwa, trying to escape from the capital with her young children, you'd never want another war."
"But I never said that I'd like to see another war."
"It comes to the same thing though, if you believe Konno-maru is right."
"Are you saying that Konno-maru is wicked for thinking as he does?"
"No. He thinks he is doing his duty as a warrior, but I believe that Tokiwa is right in wanting her children never to take part in bloodshed, and preferring that they should live peacefully as monks."
"Well then, what are we going to do with that image?"
"It's going to be more difficult than ever to get it to him, now that they've set up guards round the mountain. Still, I'd never be happy in my mind unless I tried to see Ushiwaka myself and gave him his mother's letter. Nor would it be right if I didn't talk to him about how his mother feels and convince him of his duty to her."
"What a difficult task we have before us!"
"That's exactly what I thought when we were talking with Lady Tokiwa. It will be difficult enough getting to see Ushiwaka alone, but it's going to be even more difficult to get him to understand what his mother wants for him."
"Difficult? I believe you're only making it seem so!"
"No, you're mistaken about that, Yomogi. There's more to this than you think, and if something should go wrong, there'll be another war," Asatori said with a sigh that was also a prayer. Then he began to tell Yomogi of how he would reach Kurama Mountain.
Yomogi, who had never suspected her husband of being quite so courageous, listened amazed to his daring plan.
"I'd better go alone, Yomogi. It would be better that way."
"Will you be safe going alone?"
"I'm not too sure myself, but I've made up my mind to it."
Asatori prepared himself for his task as though he were going on a long journey. After putting together some dried grain and some other provisions, he armed himself with a dagger and then brought out his loved flute, which he had not played for many a year, and secured it to the belt of his close-fitting trousers. And one night in May he started out for Kurama Mountain. Instead of the usual route, which would bring him to the foot of the mountain by dawn, he chose a little-used and difficult path to avoid meeting strangers. The start of his journey took him across a dark and lonely moor. The season of rains was near and there were no stars to guide him. As he entered hilly country where the mountains loomed up before him, tales of brigands who once infested these parts began to haunt him. He grew afraid and decided to get shelter at the first house he saw. Suddenly a light wavered between the tall grass-tops; Asatori sighed with relief as he made his way toward a dilapidated hut in a clearing. Around it he could make out rows of ripening wheat. The bubbling of a spring broke the stillness. Then he heard voices.