Pagoda, Skull & Samurai Read online

  [12]

  The wind deepens the melancholy of a hamlet under falling plum blossoms, while it enhances the peace of a house beside dancing willow branches. The silent spring rain makes the fisherman knit his brows, while it delights the farmer. Likewise, this day's sun found the Oda camp in an atmosphere diametrically opposed to that in the Take-da's. Imposing in appearance, albeit with dread apprehension beneath the surface, the massive Oda force sported a forest of banners bearing the insignias of the brigades arrayed under them. Animated neighing of horses from the distance added to the exhilaration at the Oda command post. The exacting leadership of Nobunaga, true to his nickname, General Vigilant, was aptly supplemented by Ieyasu's resourceful discretion. The common fear of the reputedly invincible Kōshū army, moreover, galvanized the ranks into a determined mass—a reassuring omen of victory.

  Nevertheless, successive scout reports confirmed that the positions of the Takeda legions were all but impregnable. Oda commanders paled at this alarming discovery, and a nonplussed Nobunaga sent for Ieyasu.

  At the emergency war council Nobunaga went over the intelligence reports. "Does anyone have a suggestion? Shibata, Takigawa, Sakuma, Hideyoshi?" Nobunaga called on each of his commanders, resting his expectant gaze upon one after another, but none broke the silence. Noticing an eager expression on the face of Sakai Tadatsugu, who was seated at the far end of the group, Nobunaga, his ire subsiding, beckoned him, "You must be the re-knowned Sakai in the service of Lord Ieyasu. Come closer, right over here. Now, Tadatsugu, tell me what you make of the enemy's disposition." As if already certain of Tada-tsugu's reply, Nobunaga had changed impatient tone to a confident, leisurely one.

  Striding forward, Tadatsugu bowed and enunciated his opinion:

  "I venture to disagree with your scout, in view of my own reconnaissance and the observations of my undercover agents. Our adversary has but half our strength; furthermore, he has recklessly blocked his rear with a great river, by his own choice! Now that he has fallen headlong into your lordship's trap, our victory is as good as guaranteed. My prediction will no more miss the mark than a hammer would fail to hit a target as large as the earth itself."

  "How true, how true!" exclaimed Nobunaga, beaming. "What is seen by a cowardly eye and reported by a cowardly mouth never merits our consideration. Now that you, the bravest warrior in the coastal region, have reached this conclusion, our victory is all but won. My mind's eye can already see us scattering the Takeda forces, taking possession of kōshū, and pushing on to conquer the entire eastern and northern regions."

  With a jubilant smile Nobunaga lifted a handy saké cup, swallowed its contents, and handed the cup to Tadatsugu, saying, "Drink from this and pass it to my heir Nobutada over there. No need to decline for the sake of formality. I am hoping that a touch of your unequaled valor may be transfused into my son."

  Honored with such an accolade, Tadatsugu drained the cup, hesitantly offered it to Nobutada, and prostrated himself before him.

  "You, Tadatsugu, are not a rough, ill-bred warrior whose only virtue is prowess in battle," began Nobunaga again with an approving smile. "I have been told that you are quite a dancer, particularly proud of what you call the 'shrimp-catching dance.' I want you to show it to us. Lift the morale of our commanders—they must be as anxious as I am to see it." Though genially given, Nobunaga's command left no room for evasion.

  "Of all things, the shrimp-catching dance! I am quite confounded by your request. However, since you have already found me out, I cannot very well plead a lack of dancing ability. Despite the shame and embarrassment I feel before the critical eyes of someone like your lordship, who is accustomed to the sophisticated style of the capital, I have no choice but to comply."

  Tadatsugu slid back a few paces and rose to commence his dance.

  Soundless and unhurried flows the water under the spring sunlight, clear to the bottom of the brook. Little shrimp playing among the river weeds, little shrimp teasing the water moss, in a brook along the paddy fields. Quiet observation reveals, oh, what a precocious shrimp! Bedecked snugly in heaven-en-dowed armor, crowned with a natural helmet like a dragon's head, spreading its two short barbels into a V-shaped crest, and flourishing two long whiskers like spears and halberds—oh, what a precocious shrimp!

  Funny little shrimp, let me catch you! A tall man wades into the brook, where sunlight flickers upon the shallow water. Stooping down, he watches, motionless. As the ripples die down, the shrimp resumes his play among the weeds, brushing against the moss, secure and unsuspecting. With a lightning flash of his hands, the man lunges, but misses the shrimp. The hands pursue, and again it skims away. He stalks in a circle; it flees in an easy glide. Oh, what a close call! The man withdraws his hands to wait for the waves to subside.

  Again a pompous little warrior garbed in red armor wields his whisker-halberd. Another one over there. Another right here. Another, another, another, there, there, there. In mockery or rage, the protuberant eyes glare upward in a proud show of force. Casually undertaken, this trifling task is now impossible to quit. The hopeful giant rounds his eyes, alert as a cormorant, and spreads his hand wide as a palm leaf. He aims; his quarry eludes. He gives chase; it takes to flight. Pounce, slip. Here, there. In his impatient struggle, the elbow-deep water surges over his shoulder, and splashing waves break upon his back. Still, only the slippery feel at his fingertips, and no catch.

  A colossus whose head would loom above a field of corn, whose arms could lift a stone mortar with no strain, stands erect, his dignity undiminished by the elusive little shrimp. The blossom-scented breeze pokes fun at his ruffled sidelocks, and a lark trills across the sky as if tattling on someone. How embarrassing to be found soaking wet on a sunny day! He curses his ill luck, but without recourse, he returns home. In the light of the pine twig fire, he weaves a fishnet with a makeshift knitting needle. Vowing not to fail again, he attaches it to a willow hoop atop a bamboo pole. He rests his head upon his elbow, pleasantly dreaming of catching the shrimp with his new net in the morning.

  A spring dawn brightens the sky, against which a flock of crows, cawing cheerily, etches a vivid contrast. With the net on his shoulder, the man retraces his dew-drenched steps to the brook. The little shrimp sporting among the weeds, the little shrimp tickling the water moss, having the time of his life, secure and unsuspecting. This time you shall not escape. You shall not be forgiven. The man cautiously steals closer, his net at the ready. He springs and captures a handful of shrimp with ease. Oh, what fun! He scoops again; another three or four. Swish, and four, five more. Five or six now. Caught unawares, the shrimp raise a clamor of consternation and protest, but they are as powerless in the net as butterflies on the spider's web. They leap, dance, flounder, and squirm, only to the amusement of their captor. The splendor of their helmets and armor, the flourish of their spears and halberds—alas, nothing but yesterday's dream!

  From the initial slow movements of a commander's fan, Tadatsugu had broken into a fast and furious dance brandishing a long halberd in place of a fishnet. At his humorously realistic gestures, the entire assemblage roared with laughter, beating on their quivers, clapping their hands, and causing a commotion for some time.

  "How amusing! A most appropriate dance for the occasion!" blustered a jubilant Nobunaga. "Listen Tadatsugu and the rest of you. Katsuyori is indeed a shrimp, is he not? Do you not agree, Lord Ieyasu? He is swaggering his whiskers now, but it won't be long before he ends up in our net. Ha, ha, ha! He is a shrimp, a little shrimp. What a delightful conceit!"

  "Right you are, Lord Nobunaga," echoed Ieyasu, beaming. "That little shrimp boasts his reputation, wiggling his spear and halberd, but he is only wallowing in self-importance. Some of our men may be in awe of the kōshū army, but Shingen's days are all in the past. Nothing can be the same under Katsuyori. Our total victory is all but accomplished. My only wish for tomorrow is that each of you commanders may catch as many kōshū shrimp as the next man."

  "Well, now. Come tomorro
w, the kōshū men shall taste our blows." Sharing the same hope, everyone present squared his shoulders and raised his brows in eager anticipation.

  Having personally surveyed the enemy deployment earlier, Tadatsugu had devised an offensive strategy based on his observation. Finding this an opportune moment to seek official sanction for it, he sidled up to his lord and whispered the plan. "A very interesting idea," Ieyasu replied. "This is no time to hesitate. Submit your suggestion to Lord Nobunaga."

  Delighted by the encouragement, Tadatsugu turned to Nobunaga. "I beg the Commander General's indulgence for a moment. The odds are overwhelmingly with us in the upcoming battle now that we have secured a topographical advantage against an enemy force less than half the size of our own to begin with. Still, it would be desirable to defeat him most expeditiously. At the risk of being presumptuous I venture to submit a plan for your consideration in the belief that to withhold knowledge under the present circumstances would constitute an act of disloyalty. Despite the forward encampment of Katsuyori and some of his ablest generals, their main body is probably located somewhere to the rear of Nagashino. If we strike at the enemy trunk, his limbs and leaves will not be able to withstand the shock. Suppose we dispatch a detachment of a few companies tonight? If they ford the Yoshi River and cross Matsuyama Pass in the darkness, they can climb Hawk's Nest Hill and Kuma Hill undetected. Then if they set fire to the outposts and camps in Nagashino and push on to Norimoto Village to cut off the enemy's rear and capture their supplies, the Takeda army will be thrown into panic. When our main forces sally forth in a coordinated offensive, Katsuyori will have no alternative but to beat a hasty retreat in the face of our whirlwind assault. Since I am well acquainted with the lay of the land, I humbly request permission to lead one of these detachments." With his forehead pressed to the floor, Tadatsugu awaited Nobunaga's approval, of which he was quite certain.

  To the warrior's complete surprise, however, Nobunaga stiffened his expression and thundered, "Silence, Tadatsugu! Stop talking. How you wag your useless tongue! I thought you were a man of wisdom and tact. How dare you presume to make such an inane suggestion! You may be accustomed to commanding a mere four or five hundred men, or at most a couple of thousand, but you are probably ignorant of the grand-scale strategy involved in pitting two great armies against each other. Don't spread incautious ideas to mislead the troops! Your plan might work in a skirmish between small units, but not here. Our opponents are seasoned troops of Kōshū, and our side represents the combined strength of my Owari-Mino and Lord Ieyasu's Enshū-Mikawa forces. It is foolish of you to recommend a petty trick as if we were dealing with mere bandits and outlaws. A grown man ought to be ashamed of resorting to effeminate wiles and childish pranks. This sort of petty maneuver cannot serve a great army any more than a sickle can fell a large tree. I am not interested in listening to useless suggestions. Return to your place."

  Tadatsugu retreated to his original seat, red-faced in disappointment and humiliation.

  Thus the war council ended. Ieyasu returned to his post, as did the other commanders.

  Before long a personal attendant of Nobunaga's delivered a secret summons to Tadatsugu. Baffled but compliant, he accompanied the messenger back to the Oda headquarters.

  "Come closer, Tadatsugu," called a smiling Nobunaga in a conspiratorial whisper, belying his angry mood of a few hours before. Laughing, he offered dried abalone to the warrior. "Don't resent my harsh treatment of a while ago, Tadatsugu. Your suggestion is the best plan of action I have heard so far; there's no doubt about it. But if I had instantly approved your plan at the general council meeting, there would have been no telling where and how the plan might leak out to the enemy. That is why I pretended to disparage you. Don't give it another thought."

  Struck dumb again by Nobunaga's unpredictable behavior, Tadatsugu prostrated himself to indicate his gratitude.

  "Look, Tadatsugu," continued Nobunaga with a note of satisfaction. "This is my favorite bit, a type used by ninja* for their horses. Take it. It's yours." Nobunaga then summoned retainers who had been standing by. As they filed in, he issued his instructions: "Kanamori shall be in command. Satō, Aoyama, and Katō shall serve as his tactical staff. I give you four thousand troops and five hundred guns to reinforce Tadatsugu's unit. Get ready to move out and cripple the enemy from the rear. I am counting on you to succeed."

  Charged with this grave mission, the Oda commanders were in high spirits. "General Sakai, please don't hesitate to give the orders. Our common objective is to accomplish this task and please our lord. Let us dispense with formalities so we can fight as one." "I agree," responded Tada-tsugu, returning their bow. "Let us endeavor to do our best."

  "I intend to borrow a few regiments of our own, with Lord Ieyasu's permission," Tadatsugu explained to Nobunaga. "Fortunately, a storm seems to be brewing. We can strike the enemy's rear tonight under cover of clouds and fog. If the storm proves severe, so much the better. When you sight columns of smoke rising behind Nagashino tomorrow, you can assume that we have succeeded in destroying the Takeda encampments on both Hawk's Nest and Kuma hills. I promise to reduce their fortifications to ashes at Crone's Bosom, Inner Mountain, and Lord's Chamber as well, and to strike terror into Katsuyori before you engage him in a major confrontation. Rest assured—I have a number of guides, including the old man Okudaira, who could lead the way blindfolded, so we are sure to reach Hawk's Nest Hill before dawn. Since our success will be the key to your victory tomorrow, I shall stake my life on this mission if I must turn into a demon to accomplish it. I hope, sire, that you will enjoy the ignoble sight of Katsuyori rushing about helter-skelter like a chicken burned out of its roost. Well, time is flying, and there is so much yet to be done. I must take my leave now." Concluding his speech, Tadatsugu bowed deeply.

  "How valiant! I am delighted. I do indeed look forward to witnessing Katsuyori's fumbling tomorrow. After it's all over, I will describe it to you. Then we can have a good laugh together." Nodding his head, Nobunaga ended the meeting with hearty laughter.

  [13]

  Back at his own camp, Tadatsugu completed his preparations. He was impatiently awaiting nightfall when he noticed one of his footsoldiers escorting someone he took to be a stranger toward the camp. Presently he beheld before him a young boy in dashing attire, his silky blue-black hair gallantly held in place with a steel-ribbed headband of white linen. With a fond look of recognition playing on his pale face, the boy carefully placed his halberd on the ground and kneeled to take a bow in the proper samurai manner. Initially beguiled by his unfamiliar appearance and mature demeanor, Tadatsugu at last recognized Kotarō, the orphaned son of his late friend Yanagi Sadaharu, a boy whom he loved like his own younger brother. He started up from the campstool.

  "Kotarō! What a surprise! What on earth are you doing here? I thought you were back at Hamamatsu in Enshū. When did you join this campaign? I had no idea. Well, come sit on this fur rug. You must be careful not to catch a chill while you're convalescing. I want you to take good care of yourself.''

  Tadatsugu returned to his campstool only after handing a nearby fur to Kotarō. Leaning forward and peering into the boy's face, he mused, "I haven't seen you since our last meeting in the spring, but I heard that your health was improving almost by the day. It may be just my imagination, but your face is much fuller, which delights me. Still, you were born delicate of constitution, so I want you to take every precaution. Ever since you became big enough to ride a horse, I've dreamed of spending one whole day riding side by side with you, hunting rabbit or pheasant. Alas, in these turbulent times it has remained only a hope to this day. Seldom, for that matter, can we even have a hearty talk together. But at every critical moment, whether in war or in peace, my mind always races toward you: I settle this matter in such and such a way and survive this crisis thus and so; when this or that problem is disposed of, I shall tell Kotarō all about; he compliments me on what I have done and flashes a smile of approval. As I can all but hear your v
oice and see your smile, fierce courage mysteriously wells up in me. A flame of embarrassment sears me just to think that you might frown in disappointment and disapproval if I failed to conduct myself judiciously in some affair. The prospect of such unbearable humiliation has always driven me to do my desperate best, for your image is etched in my heart even in a moment of life or death.

  "Today I was entrusted with a task which would provide me an excellent opportunity to make a name for myself. I was already rejoicing in advance, picturing the imminent pleasure of seeing you after the battle and describing all my exploits for your amusement. It's not that I fight solely for such a private reason, but I must admit that you're the prime inspiration for my zeal. I want you to take care of yourself, for you're more precious to me than all the treasures in the world; you give me a life beside my own that embraces mine, and courage beside my own that sparks even greater courage in me. I'd be wretched without you! That's why I can't exactly say that I relish seeing your frail body in combat dress. There, you see, it's beginning to rain. It's been threatening all afternoon, but the clouds must have given way at last. Such light clothes may be appropriate for a seasoned warrior on a night raid or a dawn assault, but they're not for you in this chilly wind. A true samurai is provident enough to care for himself, undergoing moxa treatment even when his body is in perfect condition. You, on the other hand, are already in precarious health—all the more reason why you ought to do your utmost to take better care of yourself with a view to becoming a fine samurai. I don't expect our lord to send you into the shower of arrows and bullets, the forest of clanging swords and spears. With due respect to the lord's kind consideration, for the sake of your own future, and lastly in recognition of my own foolish yet sincere concern, please be careful what you eat, drink, and wear, even at the cost of incurring sneers from your friends and colleagues. There'll probably be a respite after the battle, so I'll look forward to spending a quiet day with you then. I'll have my old servant cook chicken stew and prepare some raw fish. We can toast with top-grade sake, converse over tea and salted beans, and reflect upon the martial feats that I shall have witnessed during the battle. Today, unfortunately, I must attend to some urgent business. Since I don't have enough time left to talk now, I can only hope that our next meeting will take place soon." The stalwart samurai spoke in a tone of sincerity and tenderness.