The Pillow Book of the Flower Samurai (57 page)

Summers without sun?

Springtime when no flowers grow?

Snowless warm winters?

No burnished leaves in autumn winds?

Life with no loving lord? No!

While the Minamoto fought among themselves, the Taira leaders convened meetings and committed to a plan. Three bases along the Inland Sea needed strengthening.

‘With Yashima, Hikoshima and Ichinotani,’ Large Cicada argued the obvious, as he did time and again, ‘we can maintain control of the eastern entrance to the Inland Sea.’ All the commanders agreed, because it was the next logical step.

Logical steps in the past had not always been advantageous to the Taira.

BOOK 17

I. Settling

Tomorrow we shall reach Ichinotani. I wish to hear the sea chant again
.

Michimori lay beside me, after delight, but his mind revisited the troubles. ‘Fox is trifling with us, dividing us from his guardianship, not giving us his approval. Trying to separate us from the young emperor. After all their complaining,’ he pointed in the direction of the meeting tent, ‘they will discern this . . . eventually.’

He thought of them as a ‘situation’ that required strategies, just as when we played
go
or backgammon.

‘So, it is time for us to move?’

He did not smile, although he stroked my shoulder. ‘Yes. We should leave Yashima within a day.’ We sat and examined the map next to our
futon
.

‘Fukuhara?’ I pointed on the map. ‘We could go east by ship.’

He tapped my forehead with his little finger. ‘Precisely. See here? That’s Hiyodori Pass. A gap in those high hills behind the Ichi Valley. The valley goes from Hiyodori Pass to the coast.’ He traced his finger along the map.

‘How safe is the Hiyodori Pass?’

‘The only creatures who can climb it are monkeys.’ Now he emphasised each point by repeatedly stabbing his finger on the map: ‘With the mountains behind us, the sea in front, Ichinotani to the west and Ikutanomori to the east, we should have a safe place while we build our defences. I hope Oak will agree.’

Michimori had recommended such strategies before, and his plans, when approved by the Council, had brought success.

A city, even a small one, could offer some respite and safety. Fukuhara provided comforts such as buildings, rather than tents, and streams of fresh water. Although a fortress and rather primitive, it proved more civilised than anywhere else along the five to ten
ch
ō
of camps. Little was said of Rokuhara. Our lost home. I shared this poem:

Snow-crusted branches,

Like Harima rice, heaped silver

While Rokuhara’s fires

Burn slowly in our hearts’ eyes,

Sunset on that last day

I was not aware of how severe the situations were until we received an Imperial Envoy from Fox. I moved to the
kich
ō
for formal meetings and recognised the imperial colour and chrysanthemum.

My chest tightened, and I gasped when I saw him. The Envoy was covered with mud, panting, like his horse, and appeared exhausted. He advanced with a stride that suggested he was a separate species of soldier, of man. He presented the document and retired to await our response.

The emperor commanded the Taira Clan to ‘return the Emperor Antoku and the Sacred Treasures by the Seventh day of the Second Month’.

Faced with this demand, the commanders, except Michimori, were like cats running from dogs. They gestured, they postured, they talked, and then they paced back and forth.

Most commanders were afraid of Fox’s strength, which now had the backing of Mount Hiei’s
s
ō
hei
as well as Tiger, Sheep
and
Horse. Their uncle, Boar, had joined them as well. They had united against Rat, and now against us.

The whole world was at war with the Taira Clan.

Last year Minamoto leaders had fought among themselves.

Now, together, we toiled to increase our numbers before marching. Misuki trekked frantically from one hill shrine to another, saying prayers and lighting candles and incense.

‘Do not light anything else or I will suffocate you!’ I said. She ceased.

At the next council meeting with the commanders, Michimori put forward his suggestions. Since Fox watched, most, but not all, of us would change our location. Further, we did not know where these Minamoto leaders were.

Purple Grass agreed with Michimori, knowing Oak did not trust his judgement but trusted Michimori’s. We set off again.

After a relatively short journey by sea from Yashima, we landed in Settsu Province, between Fukuhara and Ichinotani. Misuki vomited throughout the voyage, but I was not ill. I enjoyed the rolling vessel, and its rocking kept the baby still.

The Taira love the sea

Its songs murmur in our ears

The pulse of oceans

Its ever-sounding
sutra
s

Like
karma
’s overwhelming rhythm

As Michimori had anticipated, this area provided scope for us to build our defences. The young emperor and his entourage were secured on a ship at a distance from the shore. Only the commanders and their personal samurai knew the exact ship and the spot at which it waited.

Tokikazu and Mokuhasa reported to Michimori beside the early-morning fire as he and I ate. They walked with a jaunty step. It was good to see Tokikazu again. He brought promising news. ‘There are fresh supporters,’ he reported, after the customary greetings.

Michimori acknowledged the good words. I kept my eyes away from Tokikazu’s.

They spoke of great defences, which we could hear being built not far away. They speculated that we might return to the capital.

Sun curling behind clouds,

Grinning, laughing at the ocean,

The roar of sea waves

Still dancing with the breakers

A hundred aeons from now.

As I rode with Misuki and Tokikazu, I saw that Michimori had been right. The Ichinotani Fort had thick earthen walls with an outer layer of stone. Guards stood watch on top of wooden structures, which reached below sea level. Misuki stopped her incessant singing of
sutra
s when she saw the fortifications. Thank the Goddess of Mercy for some quiet!

Fukuhara, where the women and children were expected to stay, lay between Ichinotani and the Ikuta Woods. The mountains loomed to the north of us. Nothing but rabbits or monkeys could scramble up or descend. Our growing fortifications were to east and west, and the numerous ships held to the south, harboured off the narrow beach. Safe. For the moment.

People mended armour and
naginata
, and assembled arrows, while many slept from the fatigue of repeated marching. Spring hinted at its return. Large flocks of cawing black-headed gulls shed feathers to their summer plumage. On the beach wavy lines of siskins with their ‘
djwin, djwin
’ created a rhythm of laughter.

Misuki and I spoke of singing and dancing for the commanders. Atsumori, a young samurai, practised his flute. Although it was no longer my duty, I elected to accompany him on the
biwa
until well after dark. The flute and the string were magical against the murmuring of the Inland Sea.

II. Banished

I write after riding from Ichinotani to Fukuhara, and back again
.

The next morning, we heard that a small group of our troops had been overthrown by Tiger. Afraid that morale might deteriorate, the commanders attempted to silence this news. Plans like fireflies dotted the air. Thoughts of marching and retaking the capital floated above each fire.

Some talked. The optimism among the common soldiers drooped like new barley shoots in early-summer heat. The commanders remained alert. Extra guards were posted, not only in the west at Ichinotani where we expected an attack but also in the east.

Michimori took charge at Ichinotani and doubled the watches on the ships. He anticipated an attack that night or the next day, so he arranged small groups of guards with alternating short watches. That way, they remained fresh.

‘I fear for the young emperor, the empress and their entourage. Men on ships and ashore are checking for any kind of attack, although we do not expect them by sea because of our naval power.’ Michimori enfolded me in his arms as he spoke, ‘They are cunning. They may catch us unawares. They have before. Several times.’

The flaming oxen on the mountain pass had surprised everyone, and thoughts of that night on the mountain brought unintentional shudders through me.

Most commanders were posturing and parading themselves again. They targeted Michimori. They mocked him in songs, singing that he and I never travelled anywhere but together. We had not slept apart for a long time, except when duties demanded or when he had doubted my honour.

‘It is said that Michimori holds a higher allegiance to you than he does to the clan,’ Misuki told me.

‘Let them laugh.’ Michimori grimaced in jest when I questioned him about the sarcastic songs. ‘You are my heart, and I need you.’ He wrapped me against his chest. ‘You are one of my great advisers. I do not wish to travel anywhere without such knowledge or attention.’

But the Council ordered that I be removed from Ichinotani and sent back to Fukuhara. We were to be separated immediately. It was too distracting for Michimori to have me with him.

Jealousy. None of them had a woman willing to go to battle and camp with the soldiers. Their wives lodged in neutral monasteries or the Fukuhara palaces, with servants and monks to attend them.

Michimori sent me this poem, marked with his tears:

The waves clutch the shore

Seeking a grounding refuge

Grey waters beneath clouds

One seagull floats restlessly

Flying alone with the grey—

III. Tokikazu’s Armour

Isolated but not alone, I record my friends’ assistance
.

Although Akio took me north to Fukuhara, my staunch Misuki had to stay at Ichinotani, probably to isolate me. Tokikazu had travelled with me previously, but he was ordered away and was to return to Fukuhara later that evening. In Fukuhara, Tokikazu could not be found, and the commanding officer placed me in a house with other wives. I retreated to a corner near the
shoji
to the outside and slept to assuage my frustration and misery.