The Heike Story (73 page)

New rumors spread, adding fuel to earlier ones; it was said that the monks of Mount Hiei had armed—two thousand strong —at West Sakamoto, hundreds at other points, preparing for an attack on Rokuhara. Each fresh report added credence to the popular belief that fighting was imminent. The movements of the Heike soldiers further confirmed it, for Heike troops had been called out and a defense line drawn around Rokuhara and west of Gojo Bridge to include West Eighth Avenue.

In the meantime Kiyomori arrived at Rokuhara. Every step of the way he was met by troops drawn up behind a wall of bows and shields. From his carriage Kiyomori stared out at this scene with looks of displeasure.

Summoning his sons and captains for a council, Kiyomori turned to each and demanded:

"Who ordered this?"

No one replied and he once more insisted: "Will no one answer me? Who ordered the mobilizing of the troops? You— Munemori?"

"Sir—"

"Motomori, do you also refuse to answer me?"

Motomori replied surlily: "No one in particular, but as you were so busy at the Court, we did not have the time to come to you for orders. My brothers and I and our uncle Tokitada decided that we had better be prepared to strike the first blow."

Kiyomori nodded thoughtfully. "I don't see Norimori," he said suddenly.

"He's taken his stand on the main highway. Do you wish to see him?" one of his sons offered.

"Yes, call him," Kiyomori replied. While he waited for his brother to appear, Kiyomori questioned his sons in turn.

"Was your brother Shigemori consulted in all this?"

"He was."

"What did he have to say?"

"He advised us to speak to you first. He seemed to think that the troops should be called out only if the situation demanded it."

"As I thought. He's not one to lose his head like this. . . ."

Norimori arrived just then, and Kiyomori turned to him:

"Norimori, I understand there was some misunderstanding between the monks of Enryakuji and Kofukuji during the imperial funeral at Funaoka. You were commanding the Guards at the time. Just how did you settle that affair? I heard something of the disturbance, but I want you to give me the particulars."

His eyes narrowed to slits, Kiyomori listened closely to his brother's account.

"There's nothing much to tell in any detail. Tadanori was there at the time and I had him restore order among the Kofukuji monks while I looked after the others."

"Before this happened, however, did you by any chance receive any orders from two counselors sent by the Cloistered Emperor?"

"There was talk that I did, but do you think I would listen to them?"

"So it did happen."

"Yes. It's a fact that Mount Hiei has no love for the Heike, and I know that on two or three occasions they slandered us to the Cloistered Emperor. His two counselors, however, have been saying that the Enryakuji monks of Mount Hiei were at fault that night and they urged me at the time to take strong measures against them as well as Kofukuji—to wound and kill if need be— saying that they would set matters right with his majesty."

"And what did you do then?"

"I heard them out, but ignored the orders. Tadanori gave the Kofukuji monks a good trouncing, but I did nothing more than get between the two sides and somehow made them calm down."

"Then Mount Hiei has nothing against us, I take it?"

"There's no reason why they should."

"Then what's at the bottom of these disturbing rumors of the last few days?"

"I suspect the Cloistered Emperor's advisers are stirring up the monks of Mount Hiei as they tried to stir up me."

"Good! That explains it," Kiyomori exclaimed, looking relieved. Calling for writing-materials, he quickly inscribed a short letter, then called to his half-brother, who sat at the farther end of the room:

"Tadanori, your face isn't too well known here in the capital, so you're best suited for this. Leave your armor behind—carry this to Mount Hiei and make sure that one of the three abbots there gets it. An answer? ... I think not. You'd better take care, though—agents from the Cloister Palace may be on the lookout for you."

When Tadanori left with the letter, the others stared at Kiyomori, curious as to when and how he had come to be on corresponding terms with the leaders on Mount Hiei.

"We're in trouble now," Kiyomori remarked half to himself. "Get me my armor. I might as well be prepared for the worst," adding as he rose reluctantly: "The truth is I'm tired and more ready for some sleep than anything else."

While he drew on his black corselet and fastened the cords of his greaves, he muttered between his teeth: ". . . too fond of meddling. The worst sort of men around him. Too headstrong for his own good. ... If only he'd stop meddling!"

Toward evening of that same day there were reports that the monks of Mount Hiei were pouring into the capital. Kiyomori groaned. Had his letter reached Mount Hiei too late? Without further delay he ordered his sons to ride to the Court with reinforcements, assuring them that he would remain to defend Rokuhara.

In the meantime, remnants of Heike soldiers and the Police Commission, who had gone to West Sakamoto and north along the Kamo to repulse the monks, arrived back in the twilit capital with the news that the monks had put the Heike troops to rout. The entire capital was now in turmoil as though an earthquake had struck it. Panic seized the populace as they waited for the outbreak of fighting between Kiyomori and the ex-Emperor. But in the midst of this uproar an imperial carriage rolled along Fifth Avenue, rumbled across Gojo Bridge and into Rokuhara.

"His majesty—the Cloistered Emperor—here?" Kiyomori received the announcement in a daze, then hurried out to meet his visitor.

"Is that you, Kiyomori?" Goshirakawa called, rolling up the blinds of his carriage and smiling. "Your hand. . . . Help me down," he said in his usual friendly manner.

Kiyomori stared at the disarming smile on Goshirakawa's lips, then moved forward like a sleepwalker to assist him and led him indoors.

"But, your majesty, what is this? What is meant by this honor, a visit so late at night?" Kiyomori exclaimed in astonishment.

Kiyomori, who felt equal to any situation, was completely taken aback by this fantastic turn of affairs. But the ex-Emperor continued to smile imperturbably. Though considerably younger than Kiyomori, he wore a triumphant look that said he was not one to be taken in by Kiyomori.

"Did I take you by surprise, Kiyomori?"

"Indeed you did, your majesty."

"What else was there for me to do? Had I let these rumors continue, they would undoubtedly have led to bloodshed."

"Is it true that all these reports were nothing more than rumors?"

"Do you still doubt me, Kiyomori? Did I not come here— to you?"

"Yes, truly," Kiyomori replied lamely. Here he was, fully armed. Had his faulty judgment been the sole cause of this terrible blunder? The ex-Emperor regarded him after all as ungenerous, untrustworthy. Kiyomori writhed inwardly at the thought of the false situation into which he was being forced. Then his savage warrior's pride asserted itself and tears sprang to his eyes.

"Kiyomori—tears?"

"Tears of gratitude, your majesty."

"How comic, Kiyomori! You armed and your soldiers armed —and then you in tears!"

"True, a comic performance. I laugh at myself for a fool."

"All is well, then. Let us be glad that we no longer misunderstand each other. Don't be deceived by mere rumors Kiyomori. Believe in me, trust me." And with these words Goshirakawa departed, escorted by troops from Rokuhara.

Soon after his departure, Kiyomori's eldest son arrived. "Has his majesty left?" he asked. "I just heard of his visit from my brothers."

"Shigemori, not in armor?"

"No, it was exactly as I thought and had been telling the others—that his majesty had no intention of turning against the Heike."

"You think so, do you? I'm still puzzled," Kiyomori replied.

"Why is that?"

"All this could not have happened without his majesty himself intending that it should. He has a dangerous smile. I have no doubt that he has secret designs upon the Heike."

"Father! . . ."

"Why that look?" Kiyomori said sharply.

"That's unlikely, Father, but to say it! You must take care not to do anything that will turn him against us. I pray that you will serve him with even greater loyalty."

"Of all that I need no reminding. But, Shigemori, I doubt that you understand what's behind that charming manner. I know, and that makes it all the harder for me."

"No, I'm sure that if you serve him with all your heart the gods will watch over you."

"Take care," Kiyomori exclaimed with a laugh, "don't preach to your father—it's not quite that simple, Shigemori. You, your mother and the rest of you are completely deceived by his charm. I alone see through him. . . . Yes, and it really matters little that the rest of you don't."

But while they were talking, a glare filled the sky over Kiyomizu Temple; flames soon swept through the temple buildings, raining sparks and burning fragments on Rokuhara. There, the excited inhabitants told each other that the monks of Mount Hiei were revenging themselves on Kofukuji by setting fire to their rivals' temple.

In the midst of this uproar Tadanori arrived back with a letter from the Abbot Jisso—a cryptic message intended for Kiyomori alone.

All that night of August 9, while flames lapped at one side of the Eastern Hills, several thousand fighting monks made their way back to Mount Hiei.

THE LIGHT OF TRUTH

All that remained of Kiyomizu Temple, its pagoda and other buildings of the temple group, was a waste of ashes. Days went by, but no priest returned to view the ruins or repent the awful desecration; only the common folk—men and women—came and prostrated themselves with streaming eyes among the ashes and prayed. Yet among that crowd of dazed penitents a young monk—still in his early thirties—knelt in prayer. His robes, severely plain, proclaimed him a seminarian; the figure in all its humility eloquently conveyed the impression of one bowed down with sorrow. At length, when he reached for his pilgrim hat and rose, the people about him suddenly pressed toward him hungrily.

"Your reverence, are you not one of the priests of Kiyomizu Temple?"

"No, I come from Mount Hiei," the priest replied.

Every eye was now suddenly fixed on him. "Mount Hiei? . . . But aren't you afraid to be found here?—From a temple on Mount Hiei, you say?"

"From Kurodani on the west. It is true that I belong on Mount Hiei, yet we are not all ruffians. The man whose disciple I am—and there are others too—seeks after the truth in solitude. There are many like him, seeking enlightenment of the Buddha in order to share the light with suffering man."

"Is this true? Is it possible that such men live on Mount Hiei today?" exclaimed the people incredulously, gathering about him eagerly.

"They do, but how can I expect you to believe me when you see those armed thousands? It is true that in the hidden valleys and in the depths of the forests on Mount Hiei the well-spring of light is not quenched. How can we, the priesthood, let the flame die when you who have lived through the sufferings of the Hogen and Heiji wars have not forgotten to love and comfort each other?"

"Your words give us hope, but if there are others like you, why do they not come down among us and teach us how to live?"

"But—" The monk's brows contracted in an expression of deep distress. "But do you, who have come here to pray among the ashes, not listen to the teachings of your priests here?"

"Liars, liars all of them! We believe nothing they say! Who will believe them when he sees this ruin? Better swallow offal than their words! They give us nothing but fine words when they're no better than thieves and make it their business to deceive us! Can we trust them? Do you wonder that we hate them?"

"Then you no longer believe them and despair?"

"Yes, and that is why we sit here lost, praying to these ashes."