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  Kotarō sat still, staring at Tadatsugu. His eyes, grieving, were as luminous as stars on a frosty night. At last he shook his head grimly and spoke:

  "What a heartless thing to say! How long do you intend to regard me as less than a man? Seeing me in this outfit, you admitted I looked like a seasoned warrior ready to embark on a night ride or a dawn assault. Why can't you commend me for it? I wish you could find it in your heart to say, 'Splendid, Kotarō! You have decided to tread the blood-soaked battleground with your own feet. Your determination does you credit. Most admirable!' I didn't come to your field camp merely out of idle longing for your company. It was a solemn resolve that drove me here. I am deeply grateful for your counsel on prudent care of my health, but I can't help regretting that you consider such counsel necessary at all, when I fully expect to die a man's death in combat. Of course it is not you, but my own useless self, that I resent so vehemently. Your advice pierces my heart all the more painfully because it stems from such tender concern for me—I hope you can see that. You said that you'd been unaware of my assignment in this campaign, but there's good reason for that. I came here of my own accord pretending to be a supply-wagon attendant, for I am neither under orders to accompany the lord nor assigned to anyone's command. Not even my colleagues know I'm here, much less Lord Ieyasu. If you care about me as much as you profess to, please listen to me and grant my request, if only out of pity.

  "Ever since the Kōshū army crossed the border to strike into Enshū, all but threatening Hamamatsu, I have looked forward to accompanying the lord to the battlefield. I can shoot at least an arrow or two at the enemy, raise battle cries to cheer our soldiers on, and stand as a living shield against the Takeda archers. I wanted a chance to strip the dreaded Takeda of its semi-divine reputation with my own hand, but all to no avail. Thinking that the lord had spared me active duty because of my supposed ill health, I missed no opportunity to assure him of my readiness. 'My illness has quite abated of late,' I reported, 'and I have regained much of my weight and strength. With a horse that Sakai-dono gave me, I have trained until I can now jump a stream four or five yards wide without trouble. I do not mean to boast, but I have also greatly improved in swordsmanship, making it harder for anyone to beat me.' To my disappointment, the lord invariably smiled and told me to attend to my health. In the meantime Lord Nobunaga advanced his standard to join forces with our lord in punishing Katsuyori. All the others, from my peers down to those even younger than I, have been called to arms. How do you think I feel, watching them as they happily brace up for battle, checking their swords and cheerily twanging their bowstrings to savor the reverberation? My repeated pleas met only with words of comfort: 'This is not the last of battles. Be patient and nurse yourself.' Frail as I may be, I am no longer ailing. What a shame that the lord continues to treat me like a sick boy! In the face of his considerate yet disheartening reply, I had no choice but to swallow my tears and remain behind. Even the penniless younger sons of samurai families who lacked even the armor to cover their backs rushed off to make their names in this momentous battle; not one stayed behind to share my lament. 'Yonder is where the battle takes place,' my heart cried out as I sat immobile watching clouds sailing slowly but steadily in the very direction. Oh, how my heart churned, writhed, and thrashed in frustration! Sleepless and out of sorts, I often kicked off the covers at night and sprang up in spite of myself. I don't think you could blame me for that.

  "What battle was it that claimed my father's life? Whose hand delivered the malicious blow? When and at whose hand did our lord suffer humiliation? It sears my heart to think that my mortal enemy, the one who killed my father and humiliated my lord, is none other than that rugged-boned bumpkin from Kōshū! My sworn enemy, whom I hate with an unequivocal vengeance, has come forth as if calling for all to hear, 'My head for sale!' Rising to his challenge, our lord is about to fight to a bitter finish, not pausing for a crack in the sword or a chip on the blade, until all our enemies are cut down and devastated. If I am eliminated from such an opportune encounter, how can I rest in peace, squandering my days and nights in a meaningless, mundane way? Is that any way to live? Just imagine yourself in my lamentable position, and you'll know what I mean. What would you do in my place?... Thank you, your tears are your answer. I am doubly grateful for your unfailing kind regard for me, and I feel greatly comforted in my hour of desperation. At the risk of incurring my lord's displeasure, I have resolved to take my place in this campaign; seeing your tears of sympathy, I presume you would do the same.

  "To reflect upon my ill luck at being born so frail as to waste half of each year in treatment, I am forced to conclude that I can expect nothing but disgrace in the future. No doubt in reward for my father's humble services, the lord has been more than generous with the useless vassal I am. I have tried to decline his favors on the ground that I do not deserve to profit from my father's accomplishments, but he won't hear of it and still keeps me on a stipend. If I die in vain from illness without being able to repay his patronage in worthy service, I would be a stipend thief in effect. I may be no match for women and children in strength and less skilled than a scarecrow in archery, but full well do I know the meaning of shame. I would not think of feasting on my lord's generosity only to die in a warm bed savoring the aroma of steaming herbs. If I am going to die anyway, I want to vindicate my useless life with a meaningful death. Why should I cling to a body that is destined to be claimed by illness sooner or later? Rather than rotting to death after frantic rounds of acupuncture, moxa treatment, and medication, I'll take pleasure in casting myself upon the tip of a sword or spear. If I am lucky, my thirsty sword will drink some hot blood to fuel my dash to the nether world. Death in combat rather than from illness; death by choice rather than by natural causes. To repay even a fraction of my moral debt to my father and my lord, I must try to peel even a bit of skin and pull one hair off my archenemy so that after I am gone, people will know my spirit was not as frail as my body. I only pray that penalty for insubordination would not catch up with me in the other world.

  "One dark, moonless night I paid my last visit to my father's tomb; and to my only sister, who is in the service of Lady Tokugawa, I bade a secret farewell, not confiding in her, so as to spare her tears of grief. After putting my affairs in order, I rushed here alone without my attendants. How disappointed I was when you told me merely to take care of myself! Please don't treat me as if I were still the child who used to laugh over trifles and indulge in guileless amusement. I have used all my mental resources—meager as they may be—in reaching my decision as a man. Can't you accept me as such? Judging from the agitation and commotion in this camp, as well as your reference to the preoccupied state of your own mind, I must assume that your unit, if not others, is ready to attack tonight. You cannot possibly be heartless enough to deny me: please take me along with you! I may accomplish less than others, but I swear I won't bring dishonor upon your name, not even if my bones are rasped into powder. All our reknowned commanders have been kind to me in memory of my late father, but you are the only one I can beg to take me to battle without the lord's permission. Please! Why don't you answer? Do you disapprove? Are you trying to spare my life out of pity? If so, I would resent that your affection for me should be so superficial. Or is it that you have too much affection? I am sorry about that, too. Not for a moment, of course, do I believe you are fearful of the lord's censure. But why are you silent? Why don't you open your eyes, my esteemed brother?" In his mounting anxiety, Kotarō drew nearer and nudged Tadatsugu with sheepish gentleness which belied his initial bravado.

  For his part Tadatsugu was being racked by painful thoughts. "Should I help my beloved Kotarō fulfill his wish to give his life? I couldn't bear the thought. But should I thwart his aspiration? No, I couldn't bring myself to do that, either. What should I do? How can I answer him when neither alternative is bearable?" Caught in an agonizing dilemma between emotion and samurai honor, Tadatsugu could find no easy answer. His eyes averted,
he clutched Kotarō tightly and blurted out, "Forgive me, Kotarō. Please forgive me. I was inconsiderate in speaking to you the way I did. I am truly sorry. Even before this state of emergency arose, I hadn't seen you for nearly one hundred days, despite my constant concern for you. Never did I dream that you have grown thus into a full-fledged samurai. I beg your forgiveness for my thoughtlessness, Kotarō. Oh, no! I did it again. Please take no offense, for I shall correct myself and henceforth duly address you by your adult name, Muneharu. It seems so pretentious and unnatural, though. The form of address doesn't matter between us, does it?... Good. Then let me continue to call you by your childhood name. Now, Kotarō, until this very moment I had no idea how much you had matured. Not that you have suddenly lost the smile that crinkles the corners of your eyes or the timbre of voice that is so familiar to me, but you have ripened into a man with a new glimmer in your eyes and an extra depth to your voice. Your late father must be overjoyed to see you from the world beyond. I have been an elder brother to you all but in name, and today you have made me a proud man. You have filled my heart with more happiness than if you had been honored for an exceptional deed of valor. I thank you for what you have made of yourself. Guardian of Samurai Marishiten, be my witness! I rejoice not for selfish reasons or out of my personal feelings for you. Rather, I rejoice from the bottom of my heart in the name of samurai honor, which prizes moral fortitude over physical safety and calls forth a smile in the presence of tears."

  Tadatsugu paused to shift his gaze from heaven down to Kotarō. As though the gloom in his heart had cast its shadow upon his voice, his tone sank pensively.

  "Nevertheless, Kotarō, please do me a favor and reconsider. An impetuous rush to death is not the honorable choice. I can understand your preference to bury your frail body in the dust of the battleground. No one can call you right or wrong for this. But I can't altogether condone anyone's decision to throw his life away in defiance of his lord's wishes. If I take you along on my mission, I can more than atone for my offense toward the lord with meritorious service in action. But I hate to send you to death at this stage in your life. Think of the reason why the lord wishes you to remain behind. I can't believe he considers you infirm and unfit to serve. You are the only male heir of a loyal vassal who gave his life in exceptional service, and you are still very young and not exactly in robust health. Obviously the lord wishes to save you for a later time. Why else has he kept you on a generous stipend and exempted you from this campaign? If you truly appreciate his profound kindness, you should look patiently toward a future time when you can offer him the full measure of your devotion, and you ought to regard your body as something more than your own possession to dispose of lightly. Despite my love and respect for you, I can't assure you that your resolve is the best and bravest by any standard. Perhaps you have yet to mature in your judgment. Look, Kotarō, seeing you in such anguish pains me. I would much rather cajole your expression into one of delight by blindly applauding your decision, but for your sake I must overcome my preference and risk the pain of displeasing you. Even if my words sound harsh, please ponder on what I say.

  "Our present adversary is your mortal enemy Katsuyori, your health is not good, and all your colleagues are on active duty. I can hardly blame you for arriving at your drastic resolve, but hasn't it occurred to you that suicide for personal reasons is an act of ingratitude toward your lord? How do you suppose your father would feel to meet you in the nether world so prematurely? No doubt he'd blame me, lamenting, 'How unreliable Tadatsugu proved to be! Why didn't he try to help my son attain adulthood, if necessary supplementing the boy's want of wisdom with mature discretion?' I wouldn't mind being called unreliable, but you'd end up being an unfilial son, you know. Granted, your motive is steadfast loyalty toward your lord, which doesn't of course run counter to your filial duty to preserve your father's good name. Nevertheless, which is the correct choice for a man aspiring to be a true samurai —loyalty and filial duty achieved through premature death, or the same achieved through perseverance in the face of life's anguish? Don't you detect a subtle difference in quality and moral significance? You're bright enough to have grasped my reasoning already.

  "I may seem unable to stop harping on the same point, but it's only due to my sincere concern and a fear of failure to do my duty. You've been driven to desperation by shame and resentment for your ill health, but as our lord once said, self-punishing training would lead to no great martial achievement unless accompanied by simultaneous effort to be lenient with oneself. If you deal less harshly with yourself without abandoning your commendable determination, you can mature into a stalwart warrior and valuable vassal, to the immense satisfaction of your father, not to mention mine. What a waste to throw your life away in such haste! As the saying goes, 'Indiscretion leads not to success, and impatience is unprofitable.' Since you can die anytime, your headlong rush to death smacks of a petty sulk. I would never lie to you or knowingly lead you astray, any more than our lord would neglect the orphaned son of his loyal vassal. Please be grateful to the lord and trust in my sincerity. You won't regret it.... Kotarō! Don't look so sullen. Do you think I would recommend anything harmful to you? Won't you compromise and accept my advice? Please rescind your decision gracefully.... No? You look unrelenting. How unreasonable and headstrong you are! I'm bowing my head to plead with you. When the time comes for you to offer your life for the lord, I won't let you die alone. I'll ride shoulder to shoulder beside you through the mountain of swords and forest of steel straight unto death. You know only too well how I feel. I resent your overeagerness to die in a battle which is already ours to win. Please trust in my judgment." Tadatsugu thus tried to rein Kotarō in with a verbal rope woven of duty and love.

  "You must stop such cowardly talk," said Kotarō, squaring himself into a taut posture and impatient as a young hawk fluttering wildly to be airborne. "I listen to no senseless lecture. Do you think any amount of advice can make me reverse my sworn resolution? If I should break my oath because of a mercenary calculation of profits and losses rather than because of the moral right or wrong, how could I ever answer to my own conscience? Regardless of the intrinsic value of your advice, I am mortified by it. You assure me that one can die any time, but is it really so? I don't mean to refute your kind words, but I am convinced that this battle affords my only chance. Not just any day would do for dying. One who fails to die on an ideal occasion lives to suffer pangs of regret and disgrace worse than the death itself. If you oblige me by acceding to my wishes, I will be forever grateful for your supreme expression of affection. Why can't you grant me this one request?" Kotarō flushed slightly from the heat of emotion.

  Still unyielding, the warrior scowled in dissent. "You're being insensible! Young or otherwise, you ought to have better discernment. Think it over again."

  "No, I shall never change my mind. Please take me along."

  "Do you refuse to listen?" Tadatsugu demanded.

  "Do you refuse to assign me to your command?" countered Kotarō with a note of recrimination.

  "You're being much too obstinate," deplored one.

  "You've never been so cold-hearted," bewailed the other.

  A young warrior driven by a desperate determination, and a seasoned veteran with foresight born of experience striving to stop a needless sacrifice—neither was willing to yield or compromise.

  Time was pressing hard upon Tadatsugu. "Under normal circumstances I would spare no time or word in persuading Kotarō to change his mind," he thought, "but today on the eve of a momentous mission, I don't have the advantage of that leisure. Any minute now I must lead my detachment out of the camp to venture across the rugged Matsuyama Pass. If I allow him to accompany me, I'll be putting him through the ordeal of climbing over hidden rocks and roots along a precipitous path throughout the pitch-black night. When such a task would sorely try the endurance of even a robust man of experience and training, Kōtarō's delicate body would never be able to withstand it no matter how fierce his
determination. Besides, this is the fifth month, the rainy season. Tonight's dark sky bodes torrential rain. If he has to scale cliffs using wet vines for as long as eight hours, there's no telling what would become of him, even before we reach the enemy camp on Hawk's Nest Hill. No, I can't let him join my troops."

  "A million more words of entreaty will not make me consent," declared Tadatsugu. "It's not that your absence from this battle spells disaster for our side, or that your furious fighting promises to tip the balance of battle in our favor. When our victory is so clearly assured, is it not an utter waste to cast away your life? You're no longer young enough to think the samurai's sole objective is hasty death, although your illogical attitude makes me feel you are still callow after all. Think about it. There's no use in frantically trying to coax me—I'm not going to give in. I don't mean to sound cruel, but neither do I insist on defending myself against your allegations of cruelty. If you ever regarded me as your elder brother, heed me now. I have no other choice."

  Kotarō, whose eyes had been riveted on Tadatsugu's face, said in a voice quivering with agitation, "Are you really speaking from your heart? Or are you lecturing me for the sake of expediency? Since I recall that what you taught me earlier was quite the opposite, I can hardly understand how you expect me now to accept your sudden advice that I preserve my life. I am not calling it cruel, but I suspect that your exceeding love may be causing you to try to mollify me, even by twisting truth. And that you should think me so faithless as to readily abandon my resolution! 'A flying arrow draws a straight line in space, and an inspired man wends his course undistracted through life. It is merely a matter of destiny whether the arrowhead will shatter upon the target, or a man's life should be sacrificed to his ambition. Once inspired by righteous wrath, a man must be ashamed to stop in his tracks, unable even to die.' Isn't that what you told me some time ago, when you had an old minstrel monk from the capital entertain us with tales of yore? I was deeply impressed by that remark of yours with regard to the men who failed in their attempt to overthrow the Heike clan in the Shishi-gatani Conspiracy of 1177. As if it were yesterday, I distinctly remember the expression you wore on your face that night. Have you forgotten? After coming this far, why should I reconsider even after hearing your advice? Past or future, to die or to live, this life, later lives—these are now past my care or consideration. Is there any harm if you let me have my way? If you remain adamant, there is nothing I can do. I have only myself to blame for my frail constitution, which is undoubtedly what is compelling you to deny my request. Do you wonder what will become of me? You will see soon enough. Be that as it may, I thought you loved me for myself, not as a five-foot helmet rack or armor stand. But are you now striving to preserve my body even if it means invalidating my entire existence? No, I can't believe that. Is it really so wrong for you to let me die if I so choose? Take me along!"