The Heike Story (11 page)

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Authors: Eiji Yoshikawa

BOOK: The Heike Story
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Faces—faces—faces. Nothing but excited faces and excited talk.

 

"Yes, I was there that night. We were quite drunk and badgered Wataru into letting us see the moon in his kitchen instead of the moon in his garden. . . ."

 

"It was just like Wataru to introduce his wife in the graceful way he did."

 

"Even the light of the moon seemed too harsh for her as she turned her unsmiling face toward us."

 

"She was all elegance, like a white peony, though she had just come from her kitchen. . . ."

 

"Like a spray of pear blossoms in spring!"

 

"Ah, how pitiful! How pitiful, indeed!"

 

With more show of feeling than was usual among the Guards, one of them lamented: "Though she was another man's wife, I do say she was lovely beyond words. And that Kesa-Gozen murdered. . . ."

 

Kiyomori could not believe his ears. Kesa-Gozen dead? Murdered? Her image in his heart was so real that he refused to believe she was dead. The unspeakable worst had happened to her. He felt he had more words in praise of her beauty than any man there. But she was another man's wife and he had believed he did wrong in even thinking of her. Now that everyone spoke of her, he no longer was afraid of admitting to himself that he had adored her. Roughly he pushed his way through the crowd as though bent on business that concerned him alone.

 

"Is it true? Is there no mistake about it? The murderer—who is the murderer?" Kiyomori demanded.

 

Someone spoke to him. "The master calls you."

 

Kiyomori turned and hurried toward the inner gate, where his father waited. He did not recognize his father in the man who spoke.

 

"Post yourself at the foot of Kurama Road, near First Avenue," Tadamori commanded; "watch out for every man that passes. Consider every man suspect. Leave no one unsearched. Don't let the murderer escape. He may be disguised, but there's no mistaking him."

 

Kiyomori could not wait further. "Who is this man I am to capture?" he interrupted breathlessly.

 

"A warrior, Endo Morito."

 

"What! Morito killed Kesa-Gozen?"

 

"Yes, he," Tadamori replied heavily. "He has disgraced the name of the Imperial Guards—and of all things, because of an infatuation for another man's wife."

 

At that moment Morito's uncle, Endo Mitsuto, came rapidly through the inner gate, his eyes averted and his face sickly. He slipped by quickly as if eager to escape, but every eye scrutinized him as though he were the murderer's accomplice.

 

Armed retainers, other than his own, now gathered round Tadamori. He had conferred with his majesty's aide and was now prepared to give the men an account of the events of that night.

 

Kesa-Gozen had been murdered early that night of the 14th, about the Dog Hour (eight o'clock). The place: her own home in Iris Lane. Her husband was away at that time.

 

Morito, who had had a nodding acquaintance with Kesa-Gozen's mother, either before her daughter left the Court to be married or soon after her marriage to Wataru, it was never known exactly when, fell wildly in love with Kesa-Gozen.

 

People believed that Morito's exceptional gifts as a scholar, widely recognized, would win him an imperial grant and enable him to enter the university, where he would attain to the highest honors conferred there. Lately, however, his fellow students and friends in the Guards had begun to look askance at him and avoid him, for Morito had for some time been acting strangely.

 

Ardent and persevering by nature, Morito was not only a scholar, but an eloquent speaker, daring, and confident to the point of condescending to all his acquaintances. In matters pertaining to amours, he was more than self-assured, and when carried away by his passions, he was a formidable man with his magnificent physique—a madman, deaf to all reason.

 

His one-sided love affair with Kesa-Gozen, the headlong infatuation of a man not to be turned from his purpose, was her doom. He passionately importuned her, until she grew afraid; intimidated her by insinuating that Wataru would pay the price for her resistance, until his threats finally determined the course she would take. She secretly made up her mind that she would meet his challenge with one of her own.

 

Morito, desperate and on the brink of losing his mind, demanded a final answer from her, and Kesa-Gozen was prepared to give it. She lucidly considered the consequences of the promise she would give him, and this is what she said:

 

"There is no choice for me now. Hide yourself, on the night of the 14th, in my husband's bedroom, at the Dog Hour. Earlier in the evening I shall see that he bathes and washes his hair, ply him with wine, and then see him to bed. While he lives, there is no way in which I can meet your wishes. I shall wait for you in another part of the house while you go through with it. My husband is deadly with a sword; therefore, creep quietly to his pillow, feel for his wet hair, and then with one blow strike off his head. Be sure you strike clean."

 

Morito feverishly assented. Early on the night of the 14th he did exactly as he was told. He had no trouble whatever and felt no need to examine the head that he grasped by its damp locks. None the less he stepped out on the veranda to look at the head by the light of the moon.

 

He screamed. Froze. The head of his beloved dangled from his hand.

 

In that one horrid cry torn from the depth of his being were mingled his shame, his grief, his despair, and the agony of the mortal wound he had dealt himself. He sank numb to the floor. At that instant the colt in the stable neighed shrilly, pawed wildly, and would not stop neighing.

 

Morito finally rose to his feet. Moaning incoherently in the direction of the dark room, he took the cold thing, clammy with its wet hair and fresh blood, and drew it close to him under his arm, then leaped to the garden, cleared the hedge and bushes in a bound, and vanished into darkness like a malevolent ghost.

 

Tadamori recounted what so far was known of the murder, adding: "This crime involves not only one woman and a warrior. It casts a shadow over the Palace and puts a stain on the honor of the warriors of the Imperial Guards. It will be to our further shame if the murderer is tried by the Criminal Court and sentenced by the courtiers. It is our responsibility to capture the murderer. Set up guards at the twelve city gates; post watches at all the crossroads of Ninth Avenue, and we shall surely trap the criminal."

 

The mass of dark figures listened tensely and acknowledged the orders with a movement of their heads. Kiyomori nodded and tasted the salt tears that fell on his lips. He suddenly saw his secret love for Kesa-Gozen for what it was and her loveliness in a new light. Had he been drawn to Iris Lane like Morito, he too might well have done the same! Maniac or fool, which was he? Which Morito? His heart sank at the thought of capturing Morito single-handed, but the sight of the men excitedly streaming out of the gate in the early dawn brought his courage back, and Kiyomori rode off into the mist to his post on Kurama Road, his eyes hard and glinting.

 

The story of Kesa-Gozen's death soon reached every ear in Kyoto. It was talked about everywhere. Strangers, as well as those who knew her, tenderly mourned for her, denouncing Morito as a ghoul—a raving madman. Him they could never forgive, they said, and loathed him the more because he had once shown such promise. But more than the curiosity, the horror, and the pity that Kesa-Gozen's death aroused was the realization of how lightly most men and women regarded a woman's fidelity. There were few who were not profoundly moved, and who did not shudder at the thought of what she had done to preserve her womanliness.

 

The common folk of the Shiokoji grieved for her. Even the harlots of Sixth Avenue, who nightly hawked their bodies for a living, wiped the tears from their tawdry painted faces in pity, and not a few of them mingled discreetly with the crowds at Kesa-Gozen's funeral to leave nosegays for the dead one.

 

The courtiers, and the highborn ladies, too, were moved by the tale of Kesa-Gozen, though many appraised it cynically, for in the sheltered decadence of their lives what was a woman's virtue but an elegant commodity, a graceful pawn, casually bestowed and lightly withdrawn, for the pleasure of men? What then, they said, was so noble in Kesa-Gozen, who had defended her honor with her life? Was it not the natural timidity of a woman that drove her to this extremity? There were some who said with a shrug that a woman's whim to die in her husband's stead at the hands of a crazed lover was scarcely a matter for the courtiers to fuss over, that if the affair was to be regarded seriously at all, it was a sign of corruption in the Guards. What had happened to the Guards these days, these warriors who were assigned to keep watch at the Palace or sent as messengers between the Palace and the Court? If there were profligates there, Morito certainly was not the only one! What else could one expect of those warriors? Hadn't several days passed since Kesa-Gozen's funeral without the Guards having captured the murderer? This was inexcusable! Who could rely on these warriors in times of danger if they were incapable of even catching one madman?

 

Malicious gossip soon spread, and charges were brought against Tadamori by the courtiers. The responsibility for that crime was his. What led him to wait so assiduously on his majesty? Was he not the chief of the Guard Office? Was it not he who had urged his majesty to choose that ill-omened colt with the white fetlocks? And he that induced Kesa-Gozen's husband to take it? Tadamori undoubtedly was the cause of all this mischief! Was it not a heinous offense even to jest about a taboo? Was he not guilty of blasphemy?

 

Tadamori's offense was reviewed by the courtiers and there was even talk of a trial. This turn of affairs alarmed the ex-Emperor. He realized that he alone was to blame for this malicious outburst against the unworldly Tadamori. Not only had he honored him but he had loved and trusted this warrior as he did no other man.

 

To the courtiers' charges the ex-Emperor replied: "It is only a few days until we leave for Ninna-ji Temple. ... As for Morito's capture—let us consider that for discussion later on. As for these charges that Tadamori is responsible for allowing Wataru to take that ill-omened colt—since it was I that consented to it, it would amount to bringing those charges against me." Toba laughed wryly as he sought to pacify the courtiers, who ceased to press their charges against Tadamori, though not for long.

 

Word went out from the Palace that watchers at the crossroads of the capital would be withdrawn the following day. The Guards who had been on duty now for seven days were both alarmed and crestfallen. Where had Morito gone, carrying Kesa-Gozen's head? Had the earth opened and swallowed him, or had he done away with himself?

 

It looked as though Morito's whereabouts would end in mystery. Since that calamitous night, no one had seen him or anyone remotely resembling him. The Police Commission sent their secret agents to comb the environs of Kyoto, but there still were no clues to be found.

 

Tonight was to be the last when sentinels would be stationed at the crossroads of Kyoto.

 

"There's something suspicious about the Palace inside the Northwest Gate. Not only is his uncle on duty there, but he must still have some old acquaintances there. . . ."

 

Kiyomori, who overheard this conversation, was startled. He was guarding First Avenue with sixteen or seventeen of his housemen, a number of them in disguise.

 

Right enough! He had not thought of searching his immediate surroundings, and Morito had once been a Guard at the Northwest Gate before coming to the Cloister Palace. The Northwest Gate was not far off. He swelled with pride at the thought of how he would succeed. Passing his halberd to his other hand, he beckoned to Heiroku, who stood at a distance to his rear, shouting:

 

"Get Mokunosukй to come here. I'm off to the Northwest Gate. Stand guard here. The watches end tonight."

 

Mokunosukй appeared. "To the Northwest Gate? My young master, what business do you have there?"

 

"Old man, I smell a rat over there."

 

Mokunosukй, knitting his brows, shook his head slowly. "Better not. It will do you no good when they hear you've been carrying your search into the palace of a princess."

 

"Why should that matter? I don't suspect her."

 

"You would be wise to watch your step. You know how a trivial matter can lead to serious results in affairs concerning the Court and the Palace."

 

"I shall go, nevertheless. They tell me their Guards are laughing at us and vowing they will get our man. This is my chance to catch Morito. I'm certain Morito is praying that if he is caught, it will be I that gets him!"

 

Flushed to the ears by wild visions of success, Kiyomori stole a sidelong look at skeptical Mokunosukй. "When Morito finds he is cornered, he will think of me. I even feel that he's expecting me! Mokunosukй, when my father comes, tell him where I've gone."

 

The Northwest Gate was only a short distance away, and to allay Mokunosukй's fears, Kiyomori started out on foot, leaving his halberd behind.

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