An age of war and tea, p.20
An Age of War and Tea, page 20
As he approached the Oda lines, he found the ground grew firmer, and it became easier to walk. He looked down at his mud-splattered pants, which now resembled rags, and barely held together. He was a mess.
How can I report to the lord like this?
The smoke of battle and the lingering mist had finally lifted, revealing the carnage of battle, and Mitsunari now noticed the body of an Oda Ashigaru laying in the mud before him. The corpse’s eyes were still open, fixed upwards towards the heavens, and Mitsunari considered taking his clothes. He opened the stiff fingers of the corpse and placed six copper coins in his hand and began removing his armour and clothes. The Ashigaru’s front chest armour, with its lacquered iron plates and cloth backstrap, although streaked with blood, was still usable. The short, badly slashed kosode he wore was also soaked in blood, and unusable, but his leggings appeared less ravaged and presentable. Mitsunari had stripped the Ashigaru and replaced his shredded pants with the Ashigaru’s leggings when two Ashigaru assigned to cleaning up the battlefield noticed him.
“Hey, you.” One of them shouted. “What are you doing? Robbing the dead? We should report you to the lord.” Mitsunari continued fitting himself with the Ashigaru’s leggings whilst explaining to the Ashigaru who he was and why he needed an urgent change of clothes. Pointing to the coins in the dead man’s hands, he protested he was not stealing and had made reparation for the dead man’s clothes. The Ashigaru, still dissatisfied, continued their grumblings, and Mitsunari gave six more copper coins to each of them. The grateful Ashigaru bowed and continued their way.
Outside Nobunaga’s command tent, Mitsunari cleaned himself as best he could in the horse’s water buckets and, still looking dishevelled with blood-stained Ashigaru armour, he was admitted and took his seat on the dirt floor alongside Hideyoshi and other generals. Nobunaga sat in front on his camp stool, still dressed in his armour, along with Lord Ieyasu and his son Nobutada. As the purpose of the gathering was to reward meritorious deeds and acts of valour on the battlefield, Nobunaga stood up and called for nominations. Hideyoshi was the first to stand and cited Mitsunari and Yoshimasa for their innovative efforts with the Teppo units in helping to deliver this victory against the Takeda. Nobunaga frowned, narrowing his eyes as he addressed Hideyoshi.
“So, you say I should reward them for doing what they were expected to do, then?” Hideyoshi, feeling foolish, apologised and quickly sat down.
“That reminds me. Where is my retainer, Yoshimasa?” Nobunaga inquired. “I do not see him here.” Mitsunari stood up and asked permission to speak, then outlined the events of the Takeda officer’s cowardly attack on Yoshimasa and the help that arrived.
“Where is he now?” Nobunaga asked of Mitsunari.
“I do not know, Lord. I had thought at first it was you who sent the help.” Nobunaga spoke to Hideyoshi.
“Take as many men as you need and search the area. They could not have gone too far. ‘Songbird’, you go with him.” Hideyoshi and Mitsunari immediately left to arrange men for the search and passed a group of attendants busy placing severed heads onto wooden boards. Mitsunari noticed the heads were clean from blood, and the hair of each head meticulously combed and tied, and each had a nameplate attached.
“What is all this?” Mitsunari asked Hideyoshi.
“It is for the viewing of heads,” said Hideyoshi. “Once the lord has finished with the issuing of rewards, they will deliver these heads to him for inspection. Depending on whose head it is, they will judge and maybe reward those who took the head.” Intrigued, Mitsunari stooped down and examined the nameplate of the head closest to him.
Yamagata Masakage, Takeda, killed with a spear, head taken by Hashiba Hideyoshi.
“It says here you took his head?”
“Yes, but there was nothing meritorious about it. Your gunners did the work for me and wounded him. I merely finished him and took his head to give to the lord. He was a prize, though. The noted Yamagata Masakage was one of the fiercest of Shingen’s generals who led Katsuyori’s ‘Red Fire’ cavalry regiment.”
“The lord did not think the efforts of the Teppo were especially meritorious then?” said Mitsunari.
“Make no mistake, Songbird, the outcome of this battle would have been much different had it not been for your efforts. We had overwhelming superiority in numbers, but for the Teppo, our casualties would have been considerably higher.” Still confused, Mitsunari queried Hideyoshi.
“Why then does the lord downplay the contribution of the Teppo?” Hideyoshi just looked at Mitsunari and grinned. “We do not have time for this if we are to find Yoshimasa.”
With limited daylight left, Hideyoshi believed the village of Ariake Mura was the most obvious place to search for Yoshimasa, being the only one around for many kilometres. The search party led by Hideyoshi and accompanied by Mitsunari, together with thirty of Nobunaga’s Samurai, set out for the village of Ariake Mura, arriving late in the hour of the rooster, just as the sun began its final descent below the horizon. Hideyoshi sat on his horse and looked around at the slowly darkening outlines of the village and the lights of lanterns erupting around him. There were around thirty or forty thatched farmhouses, some tightly packed together, others spread out at the edge of the rice fields. A few were at the edges of the forested slopes of Mount Tobigasu.
This will take some time, Hideyoshi thought, before calling out to his search party.
“Split up and search house to house. Mitsunari and I will take those farmhouses in the hills.”
#
Yoshimasa lay on a bed of loose straw within the farmhouse of the village headman, nestled on the slopes of Tobigasu at the edge of the rice fields. A raised platform over an earth floor formed Yoshimasa’s sleeping quarters, and the open windows of the house allowed the cool mountain air of the evening to circulate and provide some relief from the lingering humidity. In the centre was a fire pit tended by an older woman, busy preparing a meagre gruel of boiled rice, while Yoshino tended to Yoshimasa’s wounds.
“Consider yourself lucky,” Yoshino said to Yoshimasa as she squatted to pee into a bowl. “The blade missed your vital organs, and if we can stem this blood, you should live, but first we have to clean this wound.” Yoshimasa had heard the barbarians often cauterised their wounds with gunpowder that was set alight, searing the flesh. This time, he was thankful for the healing arts of the Ninja. Yoshino irrigated Yoshimasa’s wounds with her urine and then, with a small fishbone threaded with silk thread, closed the open wounds. When finished, she unfolded a paper envelope she kept in her obi and sprinkled a powdered resin onto his wounds.
“How did you find me? And why are you helping me?” Yoshimasa asked.
“I followed you after the battle. I was hoping you would help me find Chiyo,” Yoshino answered as she applied a bandage to the wounds. “Do not worry, for I mean her no harm. It’s just that she is the key to something important I need to resolve.”
“What makes you think I know where she is?” Yoshino grinned. “I know you two were, shall we say, past lovers, and I am sure you are still in contact?”
How could she know about Chiyo? Yoshimasa thought but remained silent. Yoshino explained that Katsuyori’s wife, Masako, had advised her to seek Katsuyori as Chiyo will be nearby. She further explained that having discovered Katsuyori was at Nagashino, she set out to follow the same route the Takeda army had taken and arrived at Mount Takamatsuyama only two days ago only to find the Oda army assembling below. From her position on Takamatsuyama, close to Hideyoshi’s camp, she overlooked the Arumihara Valley. She knew the camp was Hideyoshi’s as she recognised the golden gourd standard planted outside the command tent and thought,
If Hideyoshi was here, then Mitsunari must be as well.
“Did you find Katsuyori?” Yoshimasa asked.
“No. Tokugawa scouts captured me and took me to Ieyasu.”
“Well, you are here now, so you must have escaped.”
“Let’s put it this way, Ieyasu released me again.”
“Again?” queried Yoshimasa. Yoshino sighed and was about to explain when the farmhouse door swung open and a Tokugawa Samurai in full armour, sporting a large bushy beard but wearing no helmet, made his way inside. Unperturbed, the old woman at the hearth glanced up and bowed in recognition and continued with tending to her boiling pot. Yoshino also casually bowed and continued attending to Yoshimasa’s dressings.
“This is Hattori Masanari, a senior retainer of the Lord Ieyasu,” Yoshino said to a confused Yoshimasa. “You may have heard of him by another name, Oni no Hanzo?”
“Hanzo? The demon Hanzo. Yes, of course,” Yoshimasa said with a dry, rasping voice. “I have heard of you. I was at Anegawa and saw you surrounded by no less than a dozen Azai warriors and watched you despatch every one of them, appearing to savour each kill as a demon would.”
“How is it you know the Hanzo?” Yoshimasa asked Yoshino.
“Hanzo is also Shinobi and is head of the Iga-Ryu. I have him to thank for my life.” Yoshimasa was about to ask another question when Yoshino silenced him by putting her finger over his mouth and quietly muttered.
“These are stories for another time.”
Hanzo was taller than average and wore a similar style of light armour to the one Yoshimasa had worn. As an undefeated Kensei sword saint, he could afford to use more vulnerable armour.
“We need to hurry,” Hanzo said to Yoshino, “Nobunaga’s men have arrived and are searching the village for your wounded comrade, and it is the wish of my lord that they do not find you with him.” Yoshino was about to ask why, when Hanzo insisted, she immediately gather her belongings.
“Do not worry about your friend here,” said Hanzo, “Nobunaga’s men will find him and take safe care of him.” Hanzo looked down at Yoshimasa and spoke.
“It would be best for the time being if you mention nothing about your Kunoichi friend being here. Lord Nobunaga detests Ninja, let alone spies, and should your relationship with her be discovered, it is likely you will be viewed with suspicion.” Yoshimasa understood and grimaced in pain as he tried to nod his head before laying back on the soft straw and allowed pleasant thoughts of Chiyo to return.
He recalled the few times Chiyo would return to Izuma’s hut. She would only say her visits were to inquire of Yoshimasa’s recovery, yet with each visit, they both grew closer. Chiyo asked of Yoshimasa his plans for when he recovered, respectfully pointing out his dim prospects. As a masterless Samurai, he would spend his days scrounging for a living. He remembered her moving catlike across the floor to put a comforting hand on his shoulder and felt the warmth of her breath in his ear as she whispered her master would like to employ him. She told him her master was the Takeda Lord Shingen and begged him to consider his request.
It was late in the next month when Chiyo next returned and conveniently Izuma had been called away to attend a sick relative for a few days. The unseasonably sultry night air had kept him awake and in the eerie silence of the night, he was alert to the slightest of sounds. Sensing another in the room, his hand moved to rest on the hilt of his sword that lay alongside him before opening his eyes to see the outline of a naked woman standing over him. His eyes followed the contours of her body, from her slender thighs to her firm stomach and full breasts, finally settling on her face. It was Chiyo. Her fingers lingered over his mouth as if to silence him while she rested a heavy pouch of coins on his naked chest.
“Lord Shingen has accepted you, and we have a task for you. You are to deliver a message for a geisha in the capital and return.”
“When do I leave?” Yoshimasa struggled to say.
“When we have finished what I came to do,” Chiyo whispered as she sat astride Yoshimasa and coaxed his increasing erection.
#
With clear skies and a bright moon to guide them, Hanzo and Yoshino rode away from Ariake Mura and headed south towards Tokugawa Ieyasu’s headquarters at Hikuma Castle. With the Takeda now in retreat, Nobunaga had decamped and began moving his army for the long journey back to Gifu and Ieyasu departed soon after to return to Hikuma. While his army marched back, Ieyasu rode throughout the night, and he was not expecting to reach the Hikuma until late in the hour of the hare, just in time to watch the dawn rise.
Hanzo and Yoshino made timely progress crossing the mountains, rivers, valleys and reached the edge of the Mikatagahara Plateau just before daybreak. Another hour of riding would see them arrive at their destination, but Hanzo rested the horses and took shelter within a nearby wooded copse at the edge of the plateau. The night air was not cold, but chilly enough for Hanzo to light a small fire, and Yoshino warmed her hands only to be slowly mesmerised by the flickering flames. Fire wraiths danced amidst the flames and Yoshino was taken back to the events of three days earlier.
The last thing she remembered of that day was the sight of Hideyoshi’s golden gourd standard on Mount Takamatsuyama. Her next recollection was waking up groggy and sore, her hands bound above her head. Her feet were spread apart and anchored to nearby tree branches, and in front of her stood a grinning, gap-toothed Samurai leering at her. He was not alone as several more of his kind gathered around her, ogling and prodding her with sticks as one would bait a captive prey. She noticed these were no ordinary Samurai, for they dressed in peasant garb, coarse grey smocks and wore no Hakama pants, yet all carried the two swords of the Samurai class. The gap-toothed Samurai raised his smock, exposing his erect penis, and moved towards her. The next moment, she felt the weight and stench of his body on top of her and a warm liquid running down her face. Opening her eyes, Yoshino faced the headless torso laying on her stomach, spraying blood over her.
She watched a tall man with a large bushy beard clad in light armour approach methodically dispatching into the void with his sword all those who took him on while the sensible ones ran away. She felt the sudden release of her bonds as they were cut loose and sat up. Her saviour was a young Ashigaru bearing the Tokugawa crest on his chest armour, who stood over her armed with the knife that had cut her free. They both watched as the tall, bearded warrior waist-cut one of the bandits, who now begged for mercy. Wiping his blade on the dead man’s smock, he approached Yoshino and politely introduced himself as Hattori Hanzo before ordering her young saviour to bind her hands again, but lightly this time and bring the spy back to Lord Ieyasu’s camp.
Hanzo’s sudden dousing of the fire snapped Yoshino back into reality.
“Come, let us complete this journey,” Hanzo urged as the first streaks of daylight pierced the horizon.
Ieyasu had travelled all night and had only recently arrived back at Hikuma, so it would be several hours later before Yoshino and Hanzo would meet with Ieyasu. It was past mid-day, and well into the hour of the sheep that a refreshed Ieyasu took his refreshments in the main living room of Hikuma Castle and received the news of Hanzo’s early return.
“Send him in at once,” Ieyasu said to the servants as he wiped away some sake that had dribbled from his mouth. Hanzo later entered with Yoshino, having changed into a black Hitatare with black Hakama pants while Yoshino wore a black silk kimono bearing the Tokugawa Mon given to her on her arrival.
“You two look like a pair of black ravens,” Lord Ieyasu said. His eyes flashed with recognition as they fell upon Yoshino.
“So, we meet again. You make a habit of getting captured. I should have had you beheaded before and be done with it, but Hanzo here was persuasive in convincing me you could be of some use.” Looking at Ieyasu’s grim smile made Yoshino feel nauseous. It was only two days earlier that Hanzo had rescued her from the Ronin Samurai on Mount Takamatsuyama and dragged her before Ieyasu as a Takeda spy.
She had resigned herself to lengthy interrogation and torture, but Ieyasu’s command to Hanzo to execute her immediately had taken her by surprise. Hanzo protested, but she still noticed the grim smile on his face as they led her away to someplace outside. Yoshino found herself still bound and on her knees in the dry sand of a courtyard. She felt comforted by the warmth of the bright sunshine and squinted, expecting to see her executioner, but saw no one. She was alone. The sweat from her forehead ran down her face in rivulets, stinging her eyes, but she still noticed the outline of a tall man with a sword approach. His approach blocked the sun from her eyes, and she saw it was Hanzo. At that moment, Yoshino realised Hanzo was to be her executioner and readied herself just as Hanzo laughed and cut her bonds loose.
Yoshino returned to reality and looked up to see Hanzo pouring his master a bowl of sake, while Ieyasu again grinned at her before picking up a sliver of bonito fish in his chopsticks and devouring it.
“If you are still awake, I am talking to you,” Ieyasu shouted at Yoshino. “You have yet to explain your purpose for being on Takamatsuyama. Did Katsuyori somehow get wind of our advance and send you to spy?”
“No, my Lord. I indeed sought Katsuyori, but it was not to serve him. I needed to find someone.” Careful to leave out details, Yoshino reminded Ieyasu that she had admitted to her earlier role as a Takeda assassin in the service of Shingen, but pointed out that with his death she was no longer bound in his service as she had not sworn fealty to his heir, Katsuyori. She explained her purpose was to find her employer, Lady Mochizuki Chiyo. Wherever Katsuyori was, Chiyo would be nearby. Ieyasu held his bowl out again for Hanzo to refill and whispered.
“Are you sure she can be useful?” Ieyasu asked Hanzo before addressing Yoshino.
“Shinobi are sought for hire. Are you for hire?” Ieyasu asked. Yoshino knew her life depended on the correct answer. Her time as a Kunoichi for hire was over, her only focus was to find Chiyo. To answer no would end her life and any hope of finding Chiyo, but a ‘yes’ answer meant being bound to some form of contract but with a chance of achieving her goal.
“Yes, Lord, I am for hire,” Yoshino said decisively. Ieyasu looked at Yoshino, weighing up her response.
