Shike, p.91
Shike, page 91
"I have news of the Order," said Eisen without preamble. Jebu was startled. Though Taitaro had told him Eisen was of the Order, they had never spoken openly of it to each other before.
"The news is melancholy," Eisen went on. "Though it will sadden you, remember that all is happening as it should. The Zinja no longer exist. While the whole attention of the nation was turned towards Hakata Bay, the monks and their women and children simply walked out of the monasteries. Now the temples stand empty. The gates are unguarded. The doors are open. When the people who live near them realize what has happened, they will rush in and doubtless tear the buildings apart looking for the fabled treasures of the Zinja." He chuckled.
Taitaro had prepared Jebu for this, but when he heard that it had actually happened, grief swept over him. The Zinja monasteries were the only home he had ever known. It was like losing Taitaro all over again.
"Eorgive me, sensei," he said at last. "When the Order takes this step, why should I weep over it? I'm afraid I'm not a very good Zinja."
"It is not whether you achieve the ideal that matters," Kagyo said. He had been watching Jebu with a compassionate smile. "What matters is the intensity of your effort and the magnitude of your obstacles. By that standard, you are a very great Zinja." He spoke as if he knew Jebu.
"There is much to be done now," said Eisen briskly. "Many of those who were formerly Zinja are coming here to Hakata, Jebu, to help in the fight against the Mongols. We ask you to find places for them according to their abilities. Kagyo here will assist you in any way you wish."
Jebu looked curiously at Kagyo. "I know you, priest Kagyo."
Kagyo nodded. "We have not seen each other in nearly forty years, Jebu-san. Not since I assisted with your initiation. You knew me as Eudo." Jebu gasped and leaned closer to study the priest's face in the candlelight.
"Yes. I remember you now. Eudo, the tall, thin one. How you terrified me," Jebu said. "A long time ago, when the Teak Blossom Tem ple was still standing in the hills above Hakata here, and your friend Weicho was the abbot, I asked him what had become of you. He told me you had broken under the strain of initiating Zinja novices and had gone to a Zen temple to study."
"Our part in the initiations was painful for both Weicho and me," said Kagyo. "He was thankful when they made him an abbot, as I was when the Order commanded me to become a Zen monk. I was one of the early ones to cross over. Poor Weicho. The Takashi got him when they destroyed the Teak Blossom Temple."
"They killed my mother, too," said Jebu sadly. "It was Sogamori's revenge because I had killed Kiyosi."
"Are you still lugging the corpse of Kiyosi about with you?" said Eisen. "You should have left him at the bottom of the harbour."
Jebu shook his head. "Everything I see here in Hakata Bay reminds me of that day and what followed upon it. The destruction of the Teak Blossom Temple, my mother burned alive, Taniko's years of suffering."
Eisen looked at Jebu sternly. "You were right before when you said you are not a very good Zinja. Your insight is feeble. Don't you understand that acting without concern for results means not feeling remorse afters those results have occurred? You must live as if the consequences of your every action have been perfect."
Jebu rocked back on his heels, gasping. He felt light as a cloud. Eisen had eased a twenty-year-old pain. He bent forward and pressed his forehead against the woven grass flooring of his tent.
"I am a great fool, sensei," he said. "Thank you for taking away the suffering."
"It will come back," said Eisen matter-of-factly. "The cultivation of insight can never cease."
"I am still very naive."
"No, you are not. You are one of the most accomplished members of our Order. You do not realize how important you have become to us. In all the Sunrise Land you have the widest range of experience of the lands beyond the western sea."
Jebu felt a chill as he guessed what Eisen was leading up to. "Excuse me, sensei, but you yourself have studied in China."
Eisen brushed at a fly, taking care not to hurt it. "I spent five years in a Ch'an monastery. I travelled very little. I'm afraid it's unavoidable, Jebu. Since Abbot Taitaro's death you have become, of all of us, the best qualified."
"Best qualified for what, sensei?"
"To journey for the Order, as Taitaro did."
Jebu was appalled. "But I'm needed here."
"Yes, your work is here until this war is over. We are telling you about the Order's suggestions for your future to give you time to think about them. As always, the Order wants you to accept the responsibility freely."
"Why is it necessary to send me, sensei? What am I expected to accomplish?"
"We will talk at length about this another time. To put it briefly, and I am sure unconvincingly, the circulation of ideas and knowledge is the life blood of the Order. If we are a force for life, growth and liberation it is because our view of humanity transcends the limited awareness of the people of any one nation. To make this possible, representatives of our Order must travel to the edges of the world to maintain contact among our branches."
Jebu glanced out the opening of his tent. He could hear gulls calling, and now he could see the waters of Hakata Bay growing light, the dark shapes of Mongol ships drifting at anchor in the centre of the harbour and extending out to its mouth. They had not even begun to discuss the reason he wanted no part of Eisen's proposal.
"I am the Order's closest link with the Bakufu," said Jebu. "Surely that is of more value than my wandering about in faraway lands."
"What you do now is important," Eisen agreed. "But what we want you to do will be even more important."
Jebu sighed. "Sensei, I am over fifty years old. Most men do not live to this age. So, I have given a lifetime to the Order already. I have had the good fortune, in the last few years, to be united with the only woman I have ever loved. You know her. I might be killed any day now. But I want to spend the rest of my life with her, however long that may be. I beg of you, do not ask this of me."
Jebu had expected that Eisen would dismiss with contempt the suggestion that a man might want to set aside his manifest duty for the sake of a woman. Instead the round-faced monk nodded and stared at Jebu with sympathy.
"I know her very well. Even better than I know you. I know what a magnificent woman she is. Each of you has attained deep insight, and the love of man and woman can lead them together to the most profound awareness of the Self. In the embrace of a loving couple, each is drawn out of the illusion of singleness. Yes, Jebu, I know what I am asking you to give up."
Kagyo said, "Most of us find our loves within the Order. You have spent an exceptional part of your life in the world outside our monasteries, and it complicates things."
"Indeed it does," said Eisen. "She has a destiny of her own to fulfil. And you are an obstacle to her fulfilment just as she is an obstacle to yours. As with you, the circumstances of her life-the many powerful men she has known, her journey to China, her intimate knowledge of the Great Khan of the Mongols-together with her natural endowment, make her an irreplaceable person. The Bakufu could not function half as well without her. I'm afraid, though, that the liaison between her and you will gradually erode the respect she enjoys now and which she needs to be effective."
As he listened, Jebu felt he was being torn in two. "Sensei, again I beg of you-"
Eisen held up a silencing hand. "Do not commit yourself now. Give your insight time to work on this problem."
Jebu laughed bitterly. "Sensei, five years ago the Order helped me to see that I had to yield to her plea that I return to Kamakura. And then our love, which I thought was dead, came back to life. Now the Order tells me that I must give her up again. Does the Order think five years with her is enough for me? A whole lifetime with her would not be enough. I refuse, sensei. Tell them. I do not need time to think."
Eisen shrugged and patted Jebu's knee. "Only you can decide. The whole philosophy of the Order is based on that." He rose. Kagyo following him, and walked to the opening of the tent.
"I will never part with her."
"It will rain today. The clouds are already covering the moon. Good morning to you, Jebu-san."
After they were gone, Jebu went out of his tent and sat on a hilltop watching a misty day dawn over the harbour. Samurai paced restlessly along the top of the curving wall that stretched along the beach. Jebu asked himself, where will they attack today? With a grunt of anger he dismissed Eisen's message from the Order. If they think I will give her up after all this time, they are fools, he told himself. But they were not fools, he knew, thinking sadly of the empty temples all over the Sunrise Land. They were the wisest and the most dedicated people he had ever known. They were his people. Out of habit he reached inside his robe and took out the Jewel of Life and Death. Sadly, he put it away again. It meant no more now to him than a piece of glass. The Zinja gone. The Jewel gone. Yukio gone. Taitaro gone. Now they wanted to take Taniko. They were systematically stripping away anyone or anything that he cared deeply about. But a Zinja was not supposed to have attachments. He had started out in life knowing that. How had he acquired so many?
Chapter Nineteen
In the middle of the Seventh Month, the South of the Yang-Tze Eleet, long delayed in its rendezvous with the fleet from Korea, arrived at Hakata Bay-four thousand ships carrying a hundred thousand Chinese troops. The day after the huge new invasion fleet appeared, the defending generals held council before sunrise in the pavilion north of Hakozaki. There were ten of them, and among them they represented every region of the Sunrise Land. Each wore a slightly different style of armour and spoke with a different accent, but they were alike in their air of calm gravity which masked deep anxiety. In the position of honour on the raised platform under the pavilion sat the young Shogun Sametono, his eyes burning with excitement, eagerness, concern. Jebu was sitting with a group of lesser officers and kenin who had been called to give counsel and receive the generals' orders. He noted with a twinge of worry that Sametono was wearing battle armour and had the sword Higekiri at his belt.
Sametono had little to say until the generals were finished outlining their plans for meeting the new threat. Then he raised his young voice. His hands, as he gestured, were trembling.
"Honoured generals and brave officers, today and the next few days will decide the fate of the Sunrise Land. Until now I have stayed out of battle, persuaded that the life of the Shogun should not be risked. But if we lose now, it does not matter whether the Shogun lives or dies. Today, I go into battle. I ask you generals to assign me a place in the defences."
There were cheers from many of the officers. Jebu himself was stirred. He did not want to frustrate the boy, but he had promised Taniko he would do everything in his power to keep Sametono out of combat, and there was good reason for doing so besides Taniko's maternal fears. The death of Sametono would be a disaster from which the forces of the Sunrise Land might never recover. Jebu asked for permission to speak.
"I have fought in many battles, honoured generals," he said. "I ask you to imagine what it would do to our warriors, brave as they are, to hear in this moment of crisis that the Shogun himself has been killed in battle. Precisely because it will be so difficult to hold back the enemy now that they have three times as many troops as before, it is all the more important that nothing happen to our Shogun. I beg his lordship to spare us any fear for his safety, and I beg you honoured generals to intercede with him not to expose his exalted person to danger."
There was a muttering of agreement as Jebu sat down. Dawn was starting to break over Hakata Bay. Looking down the beach, Jebu could see mass pyres where stacked enemy corpses were being burned by slaves. The dead samurai had been taken inland for more ceremonious cremation. Wrecked Mongol siege machines were being chopped apart by labourers so the wood could be re-used. Here and there beached ships were being salvaged. The hulks of enemy junks sunk in the offing were left there as a barrier to other landings. Out on the bay many of the invaders' sails were up and their ships were beginning to move towards shore. Shrill voices could be heard shouting war cries across the water, and the drums on the ships were taking up their inexorable beat. Jebu turned his attention back to the generals. Sametono was glaring at him as if he wanted to kill him.
Miura Zumiyoshi, the senior officer among the generals, addressed Sametono. "Your Lordship, we think the Zinja monk has spoken well.
To lose you might be the very blow that would weaken our men's morale enough to let the Mongols break through our lines. We humbly suggest that you refrain from going into combat."
Sametono's face turned a deep red. He was the Supreme Commander of these generals, of all samurai in the Sunrise Land. But leadership in the Sacred Islands was traditionally never a matter of one man's will. Leaders who disregarded the opinions of their supporters soon lost that support. Sametono knew that Jebu had turned the consensus against him. He nodded abruptly and uttered his acceptance of the generals' "suggestion" in a low voice.
Shortly afterwards the meeting ended. Jebu felt a tug at his sleeve and turned to see Moko's son Sakagura smiling and bowing to him. The young man looked thin and wolfish after two months of leading forays against the Mongols nearly every night.
"Master Jebu," he said, "I wish to ask a favour. I have never had an opportunity to meet his lordship. Would you introduce me now, while he is here?"
"I don't think the honoured Shogun wishes to speak with me just now," said Jebu.
"Shike, I may die today. I may never have another chance." As he called Jebu by the title Moko always used, Sakagura looked so much like his father that Jebu decided to help him. Motioning Sakagura to follow him, he approached Sametono, who was striding angrily and silently through rows of bowing officers.
"Excuse me, your lordship," Jebu said. "May I introduce Captain Hayama Sakagura? It is Captain Sakagura who plans and leads the kobaya night attacks which have been so effective."
Sametono stared angrily at Jebu, as if about to reprimand him for daring to speak to him. But his expression changed when he turned to Sakagura. The young men were ten years apart in age and both of the same height. Jebu towered over them. Sakagura bowed deeply to the Shogun.
"Your father is an old friend of my family, captain," said Sametono with a smile. "Your exploits are marvellous. How many heads of Mongol generals have you brought back?"
"Seventeen, your lordship," said Sakagura, baring his teeth with pleasure.
When Sakagura retold his adventures, any Mongol officer whose head he took was posthumously promoted to the rank of general, Jebu thought.
"I am proud to meet you," Sametono said solemnly. "Just to man an oar in one of your kobaya would be a privilege."
Sakagura bowed, then beckoned to a servant whom Jebu had not noticed before, who handed him a bag made of shiny crimson silk. With a low bow Sakagura offered it to Sametono. "May I present your lordship with a small token of my esteem?"
Sametono opened the bag with curiosity and drew out a wooden statue of a shaven-headed seated figure holding a disk-shaped gumbai, a kind of war fan carried by generals, in one hand and a Buddhist rosary in the other. The delicate carving clearly delineated a stern, unyielding face. The pose was traditional, but the vigour in the small teakwood statue could only have come from the hand of a talented artist. The fan identified the figure as Hachiman, god of war, patron of the Muratomo. The statue had been left unpainted, the sculptor having the good taste to realize that the warm tones of the natural wood were sufficient adornment.
"There is much life force in this," said Sametono. "I am most grateful to you. By whom was it carved?"
Sakagura bowed. "My unworthy self, your lordship."
"Not only are you a great captain of ships, you are a remarkable sculptor as well."
"I inherit my small skill from my father, who was a carpenter, you'll remember, before your lordship graciously elevated him to the samurai."
"Your father builds the ships and you shed glory on your samurai family name by the way you captain them," said Sametono. "Now, I thank you for your gift, and I would like to have a few words with this Zinja monk in private." Jebu sensed suppressed anger in Sametono's voice. Sakagura bowed himself out of the Shogun's presence. Sametono gently put the statue of Hachiman back in its bag and handed it to one of his men standing near by. Then, as if possessed by the war god, he turned a face dark with fury towards Jebu.
"I can never forgive you for what you did today, Master Jebu. Meeting Sakagura only reminds me what heroic feats other young men accomplish, while I remain no more able to do anything than that wooden statue."
Jebu knelt before Sametono. He felt he could not conduct an argument with the Shogun while looking down at him.
"May I suggest that there is a lesson in that seated statue, your lordship. Our highest symbols of religion and the nation are not expected to plunge into the thick of battle."
Sametono was obviously close to tears. "I am not a statue. I am a human being who wants to fight to save my country's life. The generals will not let me plan strategy and they will not let me go into battle. There is nothing I can do."
"You may not fight where and how you want," said Jebu gently, sitting back on his heels and looking up at Sametono. "No one can. A nation whose fighting men did not obey orders would lose in any war. Do you suppose that there is one warrior, the Shogun, who is exempt? You must do the duty appropriate to your station, as everyone else must. Eisen and your mother tell me you were unusually enlightened as a child. But one does not light a lamp once and have it stay lit for all time. You must keep fuelling it. Do you understand what I am saying?"
"I understand that you can preach at me like any other monk," said Sametono, staring at Jebu with hostile eyes. "But you are not like any other monk. You worship neither gods nor Buddhas. What are you but an adventurer in monk's robes? You're my mother's lover, and you carry messages from her to the generals. Yes, I see very well that you want to keep me helpless, like a wooden statue that you can place wherever you wish. You killed my grandfather, and you were involved in the killings of my father and my foster father. And yet my mother lies with you. What kind of power is it that you have over my mother? It is becoming a national scandal that the Shogun's mother goes to bed with a warrior monk in whose veins flows the blood of our enemies. You and I are both fortunate that I am under obligation to you for saving my life. It is said that a man may not live under the same heaven with the slayer of his father."
