Kampaku, p.20
Kampaku, page 20
“Consider this,” said Ieyasu. “If the Lady Ocha has another son, then Hidetsugu will be in danger of being disinherited, as there will be two heirs. So, what do you think will happen then?”
“Naturally, the boy cannot wield power until he comes of age. Hidetsugu will surely try to get rid of him, and possibly the Taiko,” said Hanzo.
“A wise observation, Hanzo,” said Ieyasu. “Should the Taiko pass on before the son comes of age, if he lives that long, then Hidetsugu would be supreme ruler?”
“Then surely that would be the time to strike my lord. By supporting the natural heir, the daimyos will surely rally behind you to defeat Hidetsugu,” said Hanzo.
“Maybe, but it would still mean war. However, if Hidetsugu were to disappear from the scene, we would have only the child to worry about?” said Ieyasu.
“But surely the Taiko will make his child heir at the expense of Hidetsugu,” said Hanzo. “It is only natural.”
“I am sure Hidetsugu is sitting at Jurakutei right now, thinking along those same lines. And if he gets rid of the child, war will still follow, for he is weak, and the daimyo will smell blood. He schemes and plots constantly, so I think we need to help him along with this,” said Ieyasu to a very surprised Hanzo.
“My Lord, another possibility is that Lady Ocha has a daughter. Then Hidetsugu would remain as heir,” said Hanzo.
“Yes, that is a possibility that Hidetsugu will no doubt hope eventuates. In that case, we will have to consider getting rid of him ourselves,” said Ieyasu. “A thought, Hanzo,” said Ieyasu again. “What if Hidetsugu was implicated in a plot against either the boy or the Taiko himself?”
“Without a doubt, the Taiko would have him executed, my lord,” said Hanzo.
“Yes, that would save me the trouble and ease the risk of war.”
“If I understand you correctly, my lord, you wish to encourage Hidetsugu to betray the Taiko and get caught?”
“Yes. But we need to be careful and lay down a trail that would be believed by the Taiko. We also need someone the Taiko trusts to discover it.”
“I think you already have someone in mind, my lord,” said Hanzo.
“Indeed, I do Hanzo. The Taiko’s previous administrator, Ishida Mitsunari. He is trusted and suspicious by nature and he is no friend of Hidetsugu’s.”
“I had thought you wanted him dead, my lord,” said Hanzo, appearing confused. “My shinobi still awaits his return from Korea to complete their assignment to kill him,” said Hanzo.
“Patience Hanzo. For the moment, I think we can profit from him being alive. From what I hear, the Taiko’s war is not going well. The council could advocate for him to be recalled for an update on the war and we could put him to use. One thing continues to puzzle me, Hanzo,” said Ieyasu.
“My Lord?” queried Hanzo.
“Lady Nene is the Taiko’s principal wife, is she not? And has for a long time been unable to conceive a child with him. She blames herself for being barren. This I know because the lady has confided in me. It occurs to me that the Taiko has the services of over a hundred concubines at his disposal and he continues to boast about how he has kept up with them all. Yet none save the Lady Ocha has ever given him a child. Do you not find that odd?”
“I confess, I had not thought of it my lord,” said Hanzo. “But while my shinobi kept a close watch on Mitsunari at Nagoya, it was reported that the Lady Ocha was seen entering his quarters many times and not leaving until daybreak. As you know the Taiko was away in Jurakutei, mourning the loss of his mother the Omandokoro.” Ieyasu looked at Hanzo with furrowed eyebrows.
“Hanzo, you are surely not implying that he is the father of Lady Ocha’s child?” Hanzo grinned at the suggestion.
“There is another matter, my lord, concerning Mitsunari,” said Hanzo. “My shinobi intercepted a message from the shinobi clan leader, Nagato, intended for the Kannushi priest Yaemon.”
“And,” said Ieyasu, giving Hanzo a scornful look.
“It confirms our worst fears and more. We have long suspected there was more to Mitsunari’s background, and now we have it.”
“Have what?” said Ieyasu, becoming exasperated.
“Nagato’s men have discovered a letter written many years ago by a priest at the Daizenji Temple in Kofu confessing to his part in covering up the rape of Mitsunari’s mother the Kunoichi, Yoshino. It turns out that he was fathered by Takeda Shingen.” Ieyasu exhaled slowly, emitting a whistling sound.
“Then, he is a bigger threat than I thought,” said Ieyasu. “Where is this letter now?”
“Here, my lord,” said Hanzo, withdrawing a rough piece of rolled-up parchment from his kosode and presenting it to Ieyasu. “It is a copy. We had it copied before redelivering it to the Kannushi priest.” Ieyasu took the parchment from Hanzo and stared at it before quickly placing it in his robe.
“And what of the messenger who delivered it?” Ieyasu asked Hanzo.
“Oh, it appears he was robbed of all his belongings and murdered by bandits,” said Hanzo.
“Good,” said Ieyasu, who looked skyward, deep in thought. “How can we prove all of this, Hanzo?”
“Mitsunari is too clever to betray himself, but the Lady Ocha is another matter,” said Hanzo.
“What did you have in mind, Hanzo?”
“Having my best Kunoichi become the Lady Ocha’s confidante, but I will need your help.”
#
Hanseong: Korea
A thick pall of black smoke hung over the Korean capital of Hanseong. It was only last night that a daring raid by Korean guerrillas set fire to two of the city storehouses, destroying what was left of the garrison’s meagre provisions. It was food that the Japanese garrison had recently looted from nearby villages.
“This has got to stop,” said Mitsunari, slamming his hand on the dark walnut soban table in front of him and scattering the pile of military reports onto the floor. He had summoned division leaders Ukita Hideie, Kato Kiyomasa, Konishi Yukinaga, Kanbei and Kobayakawa Takakage to a war council in response to the latest night attack.
“We barely have enough food to feed ourselves, let alone the city inhabitants,” said Mitsunari. He looked at the glum faces around the room and noticed an absence.
“Where is Kiyomasa?” Mitsunari asked.
“He has just arrived from the daily foraging expedition,” offered Hideie. Mitsunari stood up and went outside, stepping out onto the veranda in time to see Kiyomasa astride his chestnut mare, waving his trademark tiger spear, the jumonji-yari. So vigorous was his waving that the head of the peasant he had impaled on its point fell off and rolled on the muddy ground, coming to rest just in front of Mitsunari.
“Kiyomasa,” Mitsunari shouted. “Did you bring any supplies?”
“No luck this time,” said a grinning Kiyomasa. “But we brought back four hundred heads.” Mitsunari stormed back inside and confronted Hideie.
“We send our forces to forage for vital food and this fool returns with nothing but heads. This cannot go on Hideie?” said Mitsunari.
“Kiyomasa is headstrong and inclined to do foolish things, but he is a great warrior and also the Taiko’s cousin,” said Hideie. The subtlety of Hideie’s warning was not lost on Mitsunari, who sighed, knowing that with Kiyomasa, his hands were tied.
“We know from one of the wounded attackers we captured last night that these were Kwon Yul’s men,” continued Hideie. “I fear these raids will continue unless we destroy their nest.”
“Do we know where that is?” Asked Mitsunari.
“Our spies report he still holed up in Haengju,” said Hideie.
The next day, on the fourteenth day of the third month, Ukita Hideie, accompanied by Kiyomasa, Yukinaga, Takakage and Mitsunari, set out with a force of thirty thousand for the nearby enemy fortress of Haengju on the north bank of the Han River. And before the dawn of the next day, the Mitsunari launched an attack on the west gate of the fortress. Despite nine successive assaults, Haengju’s garrison of only twenty-three hundred repelled each one. The enemy, having the advantage of higher ground, could fire down upon the attacking Japanese with ease and the hwacha-fire carts they used, with their rocket-propelled arrows decimated Mitsunari’s forces. Despite their superiority in numbers, Mitsunari realised the futility of the assault and finally ordered a retreat to Hanseong to curtail the mounting Japanese losses.
Dwindling rations, together with disease and famine, soon took their toll on the Hanseong garrison. By the fifth month, news reached Mitsunari that Li Rusong and the Ming army were once again on the move and headed for them. Mitsunari knew their position was hopeless and, as acting supreme commander, reluctantly sent an emissary to Li Rusong to sue for peace.
It was a solitary and nervous Ming envoy who rode into the Hanseong governor’s compound that Mitsunari used as his quarters. The ground underfoot was still muddy from the recent rains, but he took some comfort in the warmth of the sun now breaking through the clouds. With his long fingernails, the envoy casually groomed the matted hairs of his wiry grey beard before coming to a sudden halt. The guard assigned by Mitsunari to look after the envoy’s horse roughly grabbed the horse’s bridle, causing it to rear, nearly unseating the envoy from his saddle.
As the guard laughed, Mitsunari appeared on the veranda steps and moved to help the elderly and frail-looking envoy inside, where, along with Ukita Hideie, Kato Kiyomasa, and Konishi Yukinaga, peace terms would be discussed. Inside, Mitsunari had arranged a large assortment of food and wine to be prominently displayed for the envoy’s benefit. He was determined to show the envoy they lacked for nothing, having had every morsel of food looted from the hungry city inhabitants at the point of a sword.
“May I offer you a cup of Chinese Baijiu wine,” asked Mitsunari, showing the envoy to his seat opposite the glaring eyes of Kato Kiyomasa and forgetting to find out if he understood Japanese.
“No thank you,” replied the envoy in fluent Japanese. “My name is Shen Weijing. Our minister for war, Shi Xing has ordered me to negotiate the terms of your surrender.” No sooner had those words left Shen Weijing’s mouth than Kiyomasa rose from his seat and grabbed the elderly envoy by his robe, throwing him across the room.
“Kiyomasa,” said Mitsunari, voicing his anger. “That is no way to treat an envoy.”
“I know how to treat envoys like him. Cut off his head and send it back to Pyongyang with his horse,” said Kiyomasa. Mitsunari helped the old man off the floor and guided him to his seat.
“Forgive me,” said Shen Weijing. “I was led to understand that it was you who approached general Li Rusong requesting peace terms.”
“That is true, Shen, but I did not seek a meeting to discuss surrender,” said Mitsunari. “If we must battle you here, you must know we will fight to the death and many more Ming soldiers will also die. Besides, reinforcements from Pusan are already marching here to relieve us.” Reinforcements that Mitsunari knew to be a lie, but it was vital to project a position of some strength and not weakness. Out of the entire expeditionary force of one hundred and fifty thousand men originally sent to invade, fewer than fifty-three thousand remained. Mitsunari could not afford to lose any more men. He faced two choices fight and die or retreat through hostile territory with no food or powder and risk getting cut to pieces by a pursuing Ming army and marauding Joseon militias. He desperately needed to find a third option.
“Your garrison here amounts to only thirty thousand,” said Shen Weijing, looking around. “Li Rusong is bringing an army of around fifty thousand. This much is common knowledge. If I were you, I would stand my ground until your relief force arrives, unless, of course, there is no relief force?” Mitsunari eyed Shen Weijing and thought, this old man is no fool.
“Let me speak plainly and convey what our court demands, then you may cut my head off and return to your current predicament,” said Shen Weijing. “The court requires that you surrender the city and Lay Down Your Arms. In addition, you are permitted safe travel back to your lands accompanied by a negotiating team to discuss, shall we say, a more permanent arrangement of terms with your king.”
“You forget. We still have the two Korean princes we captured here as hostages,” said Mitsunari, attempting for a better bargaining position. “Allow us to withdraw from the city with our arms and return to Pusan. Then we will release the hostages.”
“Then all Japanese forces must withdraw to the Naktong River and remain southwest of it,” said Shen Weijing.
“Agreed,” said Mitsunari, noting Shen Weijing’s sly grin. It was as if he expected this very outcome.
“Are we all agreed?” Mitsunari said, addressing Hideie, Kiyomasa, and Yukinaga.
“It is a practical arrangement,” said Yukinaga, “but we will need to inform the Taiko at once.” Kiyomasa sneered and shouted at Yukinaga.
“Are you afraid to die a Christian?” causing both men to go for the hilts of their swords, only to be stopped by Hideie.
“Yukinaga is not the enemy here Kiyomasa,” said Hideie. “As acting supreme commander, the decision is yours, Mitsunari.”
“I understand Kobayakawa Takakage and Kanbei’s units are still out on patrol, and cannot vote, but we must settle this now,” said Mitsunari.
“I will remain here and complete the arrangements with Shen Weijing. Yukinaga will assist. Hideie, I need you to prepare to leave the city, and take Kiyomasa with you.” Forgetting himself, Yukinaga spoke to Shen Weijing.
“This is a war we cannot win; I am afraid the Taiko has lost grip of the reality here. But make no mistake, he is determined to bring the full force of our military to bear here, no matter the cost, and many will die.” Shen Weijing’s eyes lit up as if it were an awakening.
“The emperor is not interested in fighting a tributary kingdom’s war. We merely desire to keep you away from our borders. The strain on our treasury is enormous,” said Shen Weijing.
“Then it is in both our interests to stop this war,” said Mitsunari.
“I agree,” said Shen Weijing. “May I suggest we agree to manage these communications between our countries for a more positive outcome?”
“You mean to lie,” said Mitsunari.
“What I mean is, that we cooperate and prevent needless Chinese and Japanese lives from being wasted,” said Shen Weijing.
It was agreed that on the ninth day of the fifth month, the Hanseong garrison would evacuate the city and head south towards Pusan, leaving the two Korean princes to fend for themselves alone in the governor’s house and on the tenth day, Ming and Korean forces retook the city. It was not until the twenty-ninth day of the fifth month that Mitsunari’s depleted army finally crossed the Naktong River into safety. Along the way, hundreds of his men had died from exhaustion, and the ravages of typhus and starvation only to reach Pusan late in the afternoon the next day, where messages from Hideyoshi awaited. Mitsunari and Yukinaga were summoned back to Nagoya and Hideie was to re-assume command of the expeditionary forces.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Summer: First Year of Bunroku (1593)
Nagoya Castle
At the end of the Tsuyu, rainy season, Mitsunari arrived back at Nagoya to deliver his report on the state of the Korean war to Hideyoshi. Accompanying him were Yukinaga and a Ming delegation led by Shen Weijing and two officials who had agreed to take part in secret peace negotiations. The Chinese had no interest in a war with Japan, but Hideyoshi’s invasion of its Joseon vassal state had to be rebuffed. Their thinking was, ‘If that could be accomplished through negotiations, then why waste precious money on war?’ With the military situation in Korea favouring the Ming, Shen Weijing was despatched to negotiate with Hideyoshi.
Outside on the veranda adjoining Hideyoshi’s drawing room, Mitsunari, Yukinaga, and the Ming delegation knelt patiently as they awaited permission to enter. Hideyoshi, assuming that the Ming delegation had arrived to discuss surrender terms, kept them waiting for as long as possible. When he could bear the suspense no longer, Hideyoshi had his chamberlain summon them inside. The large Fusama doors to Taiko’s room were opened, and a surprised Mitsunari was in awe at the changes he saw. It had been barely a year since he was last here, but the drabness of the room had been lifted by the extensive use of gold leaf inlay on the ceiling and painted landscape scenes by the famed artist Kano Eitoku. He bowed before the Taiko, who sat on a dais flanked by his bodyguards, and noticed also how much the Taiko had changed in such a brief time. Gone was the plump face that once sported a vibrant and thick beard flecked with grey. In its place, he saw a gaunt-looking face with sunken cheeks and lacklustre eyes that matched the dullness of his thinning grey hair and beard. If eyes are said to reflect the image of the soul, then Hideyoshi’s soul now seemed more distant and crueller.
Hideyoshi beckoned with his fan for Shen Weijing and the two officials to step forward. The Ming delegation approached, inclining their heads in acknowledgement of the Taiko’s presence, a slight that Hideyoshi took notice of, but for the time being, ignored. Mitsunari had earlier tried to coach the delegation in Japanese protocols for bowing, only to be rebuffed by Shen Weijing. He pointed out to Mitsunari that their kowtow can only be performed to their dragon emperor, for its use showed complete submission. Besides, the two officials who accompanied Shen Weijing were not diplomats, but officials sent to oversee the negotiations and would report back to the court should they be seen to be submitting to the Japanese king.
“So, you are the Ming emissaries intending to surrender,” said a grinning Hideyoshi. Shen Weijing, who understood Japanese, looked at Mitsunari but held his tongue. Mitsunari again bowed and asked permission to speak.
“My lord, this is Shen Weijing,” said Mitsunari. “He is the ambassador from the Ming court and is familiar with our language, but the two officials accompanying him are not.”
“You are most welcome. She Wei Ching,” said Hideyoshi. “I have arranged a banquet for later and tomorrow you will see a parade of our finest horsemen and soldiers.” Hideyoshi had prepared a grand spectacle of events to impress the ambassador and showcase his power. He was determined that the ambassador’s report would convey to the Ming emperor that he was of equal standing to the dragon throne of the Chinese emperor.
