Shike, p.23
Shike, page 23
Jebu spent a day visiting with Nyosan. "I can't understand why Taitaro does this to you," he said to his mother. "This pursuit of insight without concern for others is a kind of spiritual greed."
Nyosan patted Jebu's hand. "I am pleased that you are indignant for me. But my life has given me three of the most splendid men I have ever known-my husband, Jamuga the barbarian, a giant of a man and a magnificent warrior, and my husband Taitaro, a giant of the spirit. And it has given me a son who combines the best of both. I am well content."
"You may be content, Mother, but you have not got all you deserve."
"If each of us got what we deserve we would have to be in both heaven and hell at the same time. The way things are makes more sense."
One afternoon Abbot Weicho sent for Jebu and Yukio. They met in a cryptomeria-shaded grove at the base of the path leading to the peak overlooking the temple.
Weicho had a visitor with him, a round-faced, shaven-headed monk in a black robe. "Normally," Weicho was saying to the visitor, "our temples are placed at the very tops of mountains. But here the peak is too sharp, so we built the temple down here and put a small hut for meditation up there instead."
The visitor smiled and nodded. Since the Buddhists wore saffron, the Shinto monks white and the Zinja grey, Jebu wondered what way this black-robed man followed. His eyes, as he looked at Jebu and Yukio, were somehow at once warm and stern. He seemed an inconsequential fellow, just another monk in a land where there were tens of thousands until Jebu looked into his face. There was a rock-hard strength in the directness of his stare, the firmness of his lips and the set of his jaw. He looks at me as Taitaro did, thought Jebu.
"I am called Eisen. I bring a Buddhist teaching back from China. It is called Zen. In Chinese, Ch'an."
Weicho chuckled. "You will not convert Jebu. He's the most stubborn Zinja in the land. And Lord Yukio is too interested in fighting to care about religion. But I thought you might tell them something about China, since they are considering going there. And in repayment they will escort you to the top of the mountain, since I'm too lazy to take you myself."
"A soft Zinja is no Zinja," Jebu quoted The Zinja Manual.
"You are also the most sententious Zinja in the land," said Weicho. "May I remind you that the Manual also says, 'On occasion the soft serves better than the hard. Where the sword cannot cut, the pillow may smother or the silken cord strangle.' You may escort Eisen-sensei to our meditation hut while amusing him with your borrowed wisdom."
As they began to climb, Jebu said, "What does the word Zen mean? I never heard it before."
Eisen laughed. "Some of us have _spent years asking ourselves what Zen means. It comes from an Indian word, dhyana, which means meditation."
"So you teach meditation," said Jebu. "On what do you meditate?" Eisen smiled. "Some of us meditate on a question, such as 'What is Zen?' Others, like myself, meditate on nothing at all."
"To what end?" Jebu asked.
"We meditate to meditate, that's all."
"I don't understand."
"It's very simple. That's why it's hard to understand." They were half-way up the stone steps leading through the small pines that grew on the mountain. Though Eisen was a stocky man, he was breathing easily and seemed to have no difficulty with the climb.
They took up the conversation again, Jebu and Eisen doing most of the talking. Yukio, having spent his boyhood practising the martial arts secretly at night and sleeping during the day when he was supposed to be studying philosophy, had little to say. Jebu doggedly argued that spiritual practises had to produce results of some sort, even if only rebirth in the Pure Land. Eisen sidestepped all his arguments with amusement, much as Yukio had evaded his sword thrusts on the Gojo Bridge. At last they reached the top of the mountain, where there was a small straw hut sheltered by pines that had dug precarious footholds among the boulders. Beyond the hut and the pines the shoreline stretched encircling arms out to the horizon to form Hakata Bay.
Eisen said, "Long ago men whose names we no longer know went into the forests and up to the tops of mountains and thought about why people are not happy. And they came to the same conclusion: we should seek happiness in nothing at all. The Brahmans of India learned from those original sages. The Buddha and Lao Tzu both restated their teachings. The same wisdom is the heart of the lore of Zinja and Zen monks. I find there is much similarity between our two paths. Only, if you will forgive my saying so, we part company on the matter of warfare. We students of Zen believe that violence is an obstacle to enlightenment. The Zinja do not hesitate to kill or injure others."
"Like you, we seek enlightenment," Jebu said, "but we do it through the practice of the arts of warfare. We learn to be forgetful of the conscious mind. We learn to love our opponents and not to fear death. Even the samurai, if they learned the Zinja principles of fighting, could aspire to the same sort of enlightenment you teach, sensei."
"Perhaps I am wrong about the military arts," said Eisen. "If any samurai should come to me for teaching, I will not turn him away."
He sat down before the entrance to the hut, facing out to sea. Jebu and Yukio sat with him.
Yukio said, "Tell us about China, sensei. I hear the Emperor of China is fighting barbarians. I am thinking of taking fighting men over the water to serve the Chinese Emperor. There are many of us whose lives are forfeit if we stay here, many who have lost everything to the Takashi. Perhaps we will find better fortune in China."
"Too bad you are not going, as I did, to learn from the Chinese. But if the Central Kingdom, as they call it, is not saved from the barbarians, there will be nothing left to learn."
"Who are these barbarians?" Yukio asked. Jebu knew these barbarians were his father's people, but he wondered what Eisen would say about them.
Eisen said, "There are many peoples who live in the grasslands north of the borders of China. They are called Cathayans, Kin, Manchus, Tartars-and Mongols. They spend their lives on horseback, herding cattle and other animals. They live in tents and have no fixed abode. Erom time to time they make war on the farming people to the south. Ages ago a Chinese Emperor built a Great Wall to keep them out, but as with all walls its promise of security was false. A hundred years ago people called Cathayans crossed the Wall and took the northern half of China for their own. Then a people called the Kin conquered the Cathayans. They seized all the riches, settled in the cities and learned Chinese ways. Now the Mongols have come. They have utterly destroyed the Kin. They threaten the native rulers of China, the Sung dynasty, who still hold the southern half of the country."
Yukio said, "I have heard of these Mongols. I have heard that they have no human law and are more ferocious than tigers or bears."
Eisen shrugged. "You know how men will exaggerate when describing their enemy. Actually, their laws are very strict, and among them many transgressions are punished by death. They are a fearless, energetic, intelligent people. They are capable of enduring incredible hardships. What they have achieved in recent years they owe to a leader called Genghis Khan. In their language his name means Mightiest Ruler. He wrote their code of laws, which is called the Yassa."
He was the ruler who sent Arghun to kill my father and me, thought Jebu. He who commanded the obliteration of whole families, of whole cities.
"This Genghis Khan was a master of warfare," Eisen went on. "Other barbarian horsemen from the grasslands simply swarmed like locusts, overwhelming the civilized peoples with their numbers and ferocity. But Genghis Khan shaped the Mongols into a well-organized, well-drilled army. That is why their conquests extend beyond all others. Even though Genghis Khan died many years ago, long before I went to China, his successors have continued to use his methods of making war to extend the Mongol territories even further. Genghis Khan was a ruler more awesome and brilliant than any Emperor of China or Japan has been in the last thousand years."
Yukio looked shocked. "You would compare a barbarian warlord to our Emperor?"
Eisen raised a placating hand. "Not at all. Our Emperor is a manifest kami. He is the child of the sun goddess. But there are times when clouds obscure his light. At present, I think, the clouds are thick and numerous in this Sunrise Land."
Yukio nodded. "Eor many of us the clouds are too thick. That is why we are willing to seek service with the Emperor of the Land of Sunset."
"I wish you a safe journey, and may you return some day to a happier country." Eisen pulled himself into a more rigid sitting position, crossing his legs and hooking his feet over his thighs, then folding his hands in his lap.
He said, "I know the Zinja do not use any special position when they meditate. But I have found that once you have assumed this position, it is impossible to lose your balance and fall over, even if you drop off to sleep." And he rolled from side to side like a doll with a weighted bottom that cannot be tipped over. Jebu and Yukio laughed as they bade him goodbye.
"My mind is made up," Yukio said at the bottom of the hill. "I am going to China. Come with me only if you want to. I don't care that your Order says you must accompany me. I don't want you with me unless you want to come."
"Please let me come with you. I want to go to China for many reasons."
"Eine. I intend to send out a message secretly to our friends in all the provinces - Muratomo no Yukio is going to China and calls for every samurai who supports the Muratomo cause to come with him. Normally it would not be proper for me to issue such a call without the permission of my brother Hideyori, our clan chieftain. But Hideyori is a prisoner in exile in Kamakura and cannot speak freely. His captors might even force him to denounce me for doing this. But I know that in his heart he will be cheering me on."
Somehow, Jebu could not picture the grim, controlled Hideyori cheering for anything that did not benefit him directly.
Yukio went on, "There is nothing left for us now in these islands. The Takashi rule everywhere. Those who have been loyal to the Muratomo have been stripped of their lands, many of them hunted as outlaws. All the wealth of the world is in China. We can help save the greatest civilization in the world from the barbarians. And the day will come when the Takashi will be weaker than they are now, and we may perhaps return when fortune favours us, and take back what is rightfully ours. Meanwhile, we will gather men and hire ships, and we will present ourselves to the Emperor of the Sung as a fighting force. You and I will lead."
That night, when Moko was through working on the granary, Jebu told him of Yukio's decision. Moko smiled broadly.
"Long ago, shike, when we first met, I told you I would go to China with you if need be. Now, even though I have found the joys of love here in Hakata, I am ready to prove that I mean what I promised."
Chapter Twenty-Five
The ox-drawn carriage rumbled down the rocky road from Mount Hiei. Before it walked ten unarmed samurai, while six more brought up the rear. In the front of the procession walked an ageing banner-man, an honoured veteran of the rebellions of past years, many times wounded. He carried a red Takashi banner. The dragon portrayed on the banner was at rest, indicating that this was not a war flag, but one to be displayed peacefully on family occasions.
In the carriage Atsue, aged nine, blew idle notes on his flute. He and Taniko were returning from his regular music lesson at the temple on Mount Hiei.
"I wish the koto was small enough to carry with us so I could practise on it now," he said.
"Some of the country folk play a little stringed instrument called the samisen," said Taniko. "I could get one of those for you."
"I don't want anything from country people," said the boy. "Country people are stupid and ugly and rude. I don't want to be anything like them."
"I'm from the country."
"No one would know it if you didn't tell them, Mother. You're a fine lady."
Smiling, Taniko peered through the curtained window of the palm-leaf carriage. The procession had already entered the great gateway in the north wall of the city. The small group of Imperial police officers guarding the gate saluted the Takashi banner as the veteran carried it through. Now the carriage passed into the shadow of the gateway.
Suddenly, someone shouted at them to stop. The voice was angry, peremptory.
"Remove this carriage from the gate. Make way for the Imperial Regent, His Highness Eujiwara no Motofusa." The carriage came to a halt.
Taniko looked through the front curtains. The shouting man was wearing rich, orchid-coloured chamberlain's robes. Eour other men in black silk robes, wearing the long, slender swords of the Court in black and gold scabbards, had seized the head of the ox and halted its slow forward pace.
The bannerman, holding his staff as if there were a naginata blade at the end of it instead of a square of red cloth, cried, "This carriage carries Shima no Atsue, son of the esteemed Takashi no Kiyosi, commanderin-chief of the Imperial army, and grandson of the noble Takashi no Sogamori, Imperial chancellor and victor over the Emperor's rebellious enemies." The bannerman made it sound as if all those august personages were riding in the carriage with the child Atsue, Taniko thought.
More armed men in black silk surrounded the bannerman. The unarmed Takashi samurai moved closer to the carriage. Looking out the other window, Taniko saw that another carriage, this one three times the height of a man, ornamented with elaborate scrollwork and magnificent black and gold lacquer panelling, and drawn by two white oxen, was moving majestically towards the gate. Taniko's carriage was right in its path, and one or the other would have to give way.
She knew what was going to happen. It was inevitable. A carriage brawl. Heian Kyo had been notorious for these incidents for hundreds of years. Some of them even took place on the palace grounds.
"The family claims of the occupant of this carriage are ridiculous," said the chamberlain who had stopped them. "Prince Motofusa is the Regent and a Eujiwara."
The Eujiwara. So civilized and so old. And now so envious of the rising, vigorous Takashi who were shouldering them aside, who had cut off the heads of two Eujiwara princes during the rebellions and who even had adopted the old Eujiwara tactic of marrying into the Imperial family. The two most powerful men in Heian Kyo these days were Eujiwara no Motofusa, the Regent, with his high office, his wealth and his ancient family, and Takashi no Sogamori, the chancellor, with his high office and tens of thousands of samurai at his back. Perhaps Motofusa had chosen this moment for a test of strength.
"Come here," Taniko called to the bannerman in the strongest voice she could muster.
The old samurai limped over to Taniko's carriage. The Regent's chamberlain squinted at the curtains to see who else was in the carriage with Sogamori's grandson.
"Under no circumstances are you to back down," said Taniko firmly. "The Regent holds a higher office than this boy, but we are already in the gateway, and it would be unseemly and dishonourable for Lord Sogamori's grandson to back out of the gate. Tell the chamberlain that we would yield place if we had arrived at the gate at the same time as His Highness, but under the circumstances we respectfully beg leave to continue through. Tell him that."
"They're going to fight us, my lady, no matter what we say." "Then the disgrace will be upon them. Remember, the honour of the house of Takashi is involved."
The bannerman went back to the Eujiwara chamberlain and repeated the message.
"Nonsense!" the chamberlain retorted. He turned to the men holding the oxen. "Push the carriage out of the gateway."
The four men in black were now joined by others carrying naginatas. At the sight of the deadly blades a chill went through Taniko. The police who had been guarding the gate had long since disappeared. Taniko looked over at Motofusa's carriage, which was still slowly advancing. There were at least fifty men in Motofusa's entourage. They were not samurai, but armed courtiers, the remnants of the old army of aristocrats and conscripts that had policed the empire before the rise of the samurai. They didn't really know how to fight, but they knew how to hate, and the small band of Takashi men they faced was unarmed.
The courtiers pushed against the head of the ox, while the banner-man and the Takashi samurai tried to hold the animal where it was. A shoving match broke out. One of the courtiers fell. He rose up shouting curses, his black robe spattered with brown mud. Now the men with naginatas moved forward, holding the long poles with the blade ends sheathed and towards themselves, like fighting sticks. Taniko felt a little relief at this. At least they were not prepared to kill, though it might later come to that.
One courtier swung his pole and caught a samurai on the side of the head. Taniko winced at the thud of the pole against the man's skull. The samurai slowly sank to the ground.
"Kill them! Kill them!" Young Atsue had stuck his head out through the curtains and was cheering the Takashi samurai. Taniko pulled him back. The child had never seen bloodshed, but he was full of stories of glorious Takashi victories over pirates and the Muratomo, and he was wild with the excitement of his first battle.
But the courtiers' naginata poles rose and fell furiously, doing brutal work on the samurai. Several of the samurai were wrestling with the courtiers, trying to get the naginatas away from them. If they did, they would surely start to use the blades.
Then stark terror seized Taniko as, with a sudden rush, the courtiers attacked the carriage itself. A pale face, distorted with rage, shoved itself through the window curtains.
"You will make way for Prince Motofusa, Takashi garbage!"
Atsue struck at the man with the only weapon he had handy, his flute. The man jumped back as the flute thumped against the bridge of his nose.
The carriage began to rock and topple. Taniko screamed and took the boy in her arms as she felt the world giving way around her. She had never known such panic since Horigawa had snatched her newborn daughter from her arms and run off to kill her. Now another child of hers was in danger. She and the boy and all the rich furnishings of the carriage were falling, falling. With a crash that knocked the breath out of her, she landed on a side of the carriage that had now become its bottom. The wooden frame creaked and broke in several places. She looked at Atsue to see if his arms and legs were all right. The boy stared back at her, terrified. He was no longer enjoying the adventure.
