The Heike Story (49 page)

As the Genji closed in along the river, the Heike began tearing down the bridge on their side. Yoshihira of the Genji rode halfway across the severed bridge, ordering five hundred mounted soldiers to follow him with their arrows pointed at Rokuhara. Meanwhile, from their position on the riverbank, Yoshitomo's soldiers rained down arrows on the Heike stronghold. Answering volleys came from Kiyomori's forces, and horse and foot from either side began to ford the river.

Yoshihira, impatient at the ineffectual exchange of arrows, turned and led his troops farther downstream for an attack on Rokuhara from the south. As he made his way along the riverbank, he saw in front of him a hundred or more horse drawn up in phalanx, motionless behind a wall of shields, their standards floating in the wind.

"Yorimasa's men!" he burst out bitterly.

A captain who rode beside him said: "Your father intended to cross the river there, but turned back when he saw them."

"What! My father refused to challenge Yorimasa?"

"He denounced him roundly for his treachery, however."

"Was that all?"

"And Yorimasa replied to him."

"But what good does an angry exchange of words do? He, a Genji, dared to desert us for the enemy, and now he waits to see who wins before he makes his choice. I'll give him what he deserves!"

Yoshihira spurred his horse and charged down the embankment straight at the phalanx. The massed horsemen broke ranks in confusion and began making their way across the river toward Rokuhara. Yoshihira's temerity, however, was ill-advised, for it gave Yorimasa an unlooked-for chance to throw in his lot with the Heike. Pride in the name of Genji had kept him from openly declaring himself against Yoshitomo and the conspirators, and he had chosen to withdraw his troops to a distance to avoid involving himself with either side. But Yoshihira's impetuosity compelled him to abandon his neutral position and side with the Heike.

Rokuhara seethed with turmoil and consternation. Kiyomori had given strict orders that no fighting should take place inside the walls of the Imperial Palace; the enemy were to be lured outside and there cut to pieces, but the attack had been easier than the withdrawal. Shigemori's flight and Yorimori's repulse by Yoshitomo had ended with the Heike s disorderly retreat to Rokuhara, and the demolishing of part of the Gojo Bridge.

Their retreat cut off and with nothing more to lose, the Genji fought their way in desperation across the river and over the bodies of their dead until they stood beneath the walls of Rokuhara. From rooftops, walls, and treetops Rokuhara's inhabitants joined with the soldiers to defend what was now the Emperor's residence and hurled down stones and tiles on the invaders.

The moment had arrived for Kiyomori to command his troops in person, for his greatest fear was that the enemy would set fire to Rokuhara. He took his sword from one of his attendants and, fumbling impatiently with the cords of his helmet, started across a covered passageway at a run, when Tokitada, his brother-in-law, who followed him, suddenly called to him in agitation: "Wait—wait!"

Kiyomori, sword thrust under one arm, stopped midway across the gallery and swung round. "What is it, Tokitada? Are you stopping me from going to lead the men?"

"No," Tokitada replied, barely able to contain his laughter, "your helmet is on the wrong way—back to front. We can't have the general go that way!"

"My helmet—the wrong way?"

Kiyomori felt at his head, grimaced, and then laughed heartily

"Wrong, Tokitada! That is as it should be, it faces toward his majesty. Come, lead the way and sweep the enemy before us!"

Tokitada, speechless, left at a run, followed by soldiers, convulsed with laughter.

The fighting which began that morning lasted all day as the Genji fought their way to Rokuhara. By the time Kiyomori went to direct the defense, the besiegers' arrows were thudding thick and fast upon the doors and shutters of his house, and all he could hear were the deafening roars of the enemy as they surged round the walls. Time and again he was certain that Rokuhara was doomed; heedless of danger to himself, he went out to urge forward the terrified soldiers, who were driven back as far as one of the inner gates. Climbing to the turret of the two-storied gate, Kiyomori shouted down encouragement to his soldiers, as he sent shaft after shaft among the enemy.

Had a larger force stormed Rokuhara from the east, it would have fallen, but on this side the attackers were cut to bits or forced to take flight into the snowy hills beyond Kiyomizu Temple.

Yorimasa's horsemen, meanwhile, closed in on the Genji from the rear, and when Yoshitomo saw how badly his men fared, he led his troops in a last desperate charge up to the gates of Rokuhara, shouting: "Lose no time now! That one up in the gatehouse is Kiyomori!"

A supporting flank under Yoshihira suddenly fell back without warning toward the river. Yoshitomo stiffened with rage; casting away his bow, he rode up to the gate, sword in hand, and challenged Kiyomori. Just then a stampeding movement among the horsemen who pressed in on him from every side swept Yoshitomo away toward the river.

Fresh troops of Heike were now arriving by the highway and bearing down on Yoshitomo's forces from the north. While Yorimasa's horsemen made inroads on Yoshitomo's southern flank, a formidable company of mounted bowmen suddenly appeared on the opposite bank and opened an attack on the Genji. This threat from an unexpected quarter had caused Yoshihira to wheel in the direction of the river. Yoshitomo's main force, which had stormed its way to the very gates of Rokuhara, now saw itself completely surrounded, and in panic began a headlong retreat north along the Kamo River. Though harried by the Heike on the river front, Yoshihira and his band of soldiers held their ground until they heard Yoshitomo's orders to take flight.

Yoshitomo cast a despairing look round on his trusted liegemen and captains and cried: "The battle is lost! This is the fate of those born to take up arms! My end has come, but fly, each of you, for your lives!"

And when his two younger sons cried they would stay with him even in death, Yoshihira, the eldest of Yoshitomo's sons, came and rebuked them, saying: "I alone shall remain as rear guard. It is what I want above all else. You and our father must fly for your lives."

Then Yoshitomo's captains entreated him to leave with them, saying: "This is not the moment for us Genji to die; if we go into hiding now, a day will come when we shall wipe out this shame."

Guarded by his loyal captains, Yoshitomo and his sons began their retreat through the enemy's line; harassed on every side, they fought their way north toward the hills of the upper Kamo, losing several men at every encounter with the Heike. And when they reached the safety of a snowbound settlement in the hills, Yoshitomo, looking round, saw how his valiant company of fifty had shrunk to fourteen. Unable to contain his grief and remorse, he wept at the thought of how he had brought ruin on them all, condemning them to a future dark with uncertainty. These hills held out only starvation and wandering. What would become of the loved ones these men had left in the capital? Where were they now? What, indeed, had become of his own—Tokiwa? She had refused to leave Kyoto in order to be near him. Had she after all fled for the country with their three sons as he had entreated her to do? He envisioned her stricken with grief at the news of his defeat.

Their horses stumbled with weariness through the snow; as the party made its way up into the hills, Yoshitomo brought his horse to a stop to gaze back into the distance. Far below in the gathering dusk every pagoda and rooftop in the capital gleamed with silver, and all over the city the glow of fires and dark columns of smoke marked the site of burning buildings.

SNOWSTORM

Yoshitomo was anxious to reach the other side of Mount Hiei before morning, for in the country of Mino on the farther side of Lake Biwa were Genji who would give him shelter and assistance. So the party redoubled their pace northward, following the course of the Takano River, past Hasй, and east over the pass at Yokokawa, until they found themselves at Katado, near the southern end of the lake.

Scouring winds lashed the lake into an angry sea when two vessels, bearing the party and a few horses, buffeted their way across the water in the early morning. Sullen clouds hung low over the northern half of the sky, threatening more snow. Some time after midday the fugitives finally beached among the withered reeds on the eastern shore of the lake where the snow lay deeper than in the capital. They stepped ashore silently and stopped to watch the flight of wild geese across a desolate sky. Two of the party then set out for a near-by fishers' settlement to barter some arms for food, while the rest gathered fagots for a fire and waited.

Late that afternoon, warmed and fed, Yoshitomo and his men discussed the next stage of their journey, which they agreed should be resumed after sundown, when there was less danger of pursuit. Then seven of Yoshitomo's captains and retainers proposed to leave Yoshitomo and travel separately, pointing out the safety of journeying in smaller groups. As sundown approached, they each bade Yoshitomo farewell, promising to rejoin him when they reached eastern Japan.

When night came, Yoshitomo, his three sons, and four captains mounted their horses and hurried along a river until they reached a highway over which they continued their flight. The black sky brooded over them, and on every side the mountains rose gaunt and precipitous. Hamlet after hamlet went by, asleep under heavy shrouds of snow; no lights shone to guide the fugitives. No human sounds reached their ears; all life seemed to have been quenched. It was a perfect night for flight, and the small band quickened their pace, until a storm rose and howled around them in blinding swirls of snow.

Meanwhile, on the night that Yoshitomo made his way through the hills to Lake Biwa, Vice-Councilor Nobuyori, prime agent in the plot to snatch power from Kiyomori, escaped to Ninna-ji Temple, north of the city gates, where nearly fifty of his fellow noblemen and courtiers had already taken refuge. There, before the night was out, Nobuyori was carried off under arrest by Kiyomori's soldiers, and on the following day beheaded with other enemies of the throne.

On the 29th of December, the second day after the fighting had ended, when Kyoto had settled once more to its customary peaceful pursuits, Kiyomori was ordered to make an inspection of the imperial residence and other state buildings. Astrologists were consulted and an auspicious date chosen for the Emperor's return to the Imperial Palace. For Kiyomori the visit of inspection was in the nature of a triumphal march and he ordered his brothers and sons and captains and all who could be spared at Rokuhara to accompany him in a pageant of magnificently armored warriors and richly caparisoned horses.

Along the route that stretched from Gojo Bridge and through the main avenues of the capital, excited crowds jostled one another and goggled at the splendid sight of colorful horsemen in full battle dress, company after company of bowmen, foot-soldiers all in armor, and troops of children in their holiday best, who brought up the rear.

During the fighting the capital's poorest—its hordes of beggars and thieves, its numberless destitute and criminals—had invaded the Palace and made it their home; they rioted through its halls and state rooms for three days and nights, ransacked the storehouses for food, mimicked the courtiers in robes and crowns, and in a travesty of banqueting and merrymaking filled the Palace with grotesque sights and sounds. When the news of Kiyomori's approaching visit reached them, there began a panic-stricken exodus. From every cranny of the Palace there streamed a frightened mob of scarecrows, too numerous for the patrols to deal with or the city's jails to hold, until at Kiyomori's orders they were herded back to the Palace grounds and set to cleaning it. There were no threats of punishment and each man was promised a small portion of rice when his task was accomplished.

"Yes, he knows what it is to starve. He knows," one wretch remarked to another over his broom. "That's Kiyomori of the Heike. I used to know him in the old days when they called him 'Heita.' I'm telling you the truth, too. The penniless son of the Squint-Eyed One—that's what they called his father—I used to see him in rags along the Shiokoji, and in the Thieves' Market by the nettle tree. I'm not saying he was one of us scoundrels, mind you, and I've talked to him, too. And whenever I had wine, I offered him some, didn't I?"

"So he's known hard times, too, has he?"

"That's what I'm telling you. He may look like a lord, but he's one of us, you can be sure."

"And he wasn't above drinking your wine?"

"Well, no, I won't go so far as to say that, but what I mean is that we were friendly, as you might say. That's why he understands our sort."

"There they come!"

"Who—where?"

"The lord of Rokuhara himself—the parade!"