Kampaku, p.27
Kampaku, page 27
“May I ask how it is his people can love someone as cruel as he?” said Mitsunari.
“Yes, he was cruel to his enemies, but he was still a fair and just ruler. He was the nineteenth generation of his clan, a descent that can be traced back to the Minamoto clan. His original name was Harunobu, Shingen was his Buddhist dharma name,” replied Yaemon.
“Are you saying he was a priest?” Exclaimed a surprised Mitsunari.
“Yes,” said Yaemon. “He was ordained by the Buddhist monk, Gisyu Genpaku. Remember, Shingen did nothing without a purpose. With his lands encroached on by three enemies; Oda Nobunaga, Tokugawa Ieyasu, and Uesugi Kenshin, Shingen aspired to become a head priest so that he might incite and influence the restive religious forces in his enemy’s lands to rebel. His brother-in-law, Kosa Kennyo, the head priest of the Hongan-Ji Temple, and sworn enemy of Nobunaga had successfully incited a rebellion against his enemy Uesugi Kenshin, distracting him from making further advances into Takeda territory.”
“So, he used Buddhism just as he used my mother?” said Mitsunari. Yaemon looked at the anguish in Mitsunari’s eyes.
“You must decide, but first get all the facts,” said Yaemon before continuing. “Shingen placed the utmost importance on the gathering of information. He established a secret organisation of shinobi, who posed as monks, merchants, and samurai. They were called Mitsu-mono and were feared by Shingen’s enemies. Chiyo headed a separate network within the Mitsu-mono, comprising female shinobi known as Kunoichi to which your mother belonged. Her task was to recruit young orphan girls and teach them the dark arts of ninjutsu. When they were ready, they were put to use as spies in the guise of courtesans and maidservants. It is through such means that Shingen won more battles than he lost.”
“Do you expect me to be proud of him?” Mitsunari said in a contemptuous voice. Yaemon kept silent and looked at Mitsunari. Instead of the man in front of him, he saw the young boy he had once caught spying and felt his pain.
He wrestles with an image of a father he had never known and a mother who he later discovered in life, only to find out she was a Takeda assassin, Yaemon thought as he dwelt on his part in killing her. The sudden scream of a fox disrupted Yaemon’s thoughts. He had heard such sounds before, and he knew something was now wrong.
The Kitsune is screaming. It is a warning, but for what? Yaemon quickly scanned the Yakatabune’s deck for signs of danger. The court nobles were still making merry, drinking and trying to outdo each other in a poetry competition. All the bodyguards were still at their positions. A quick glance towards the bow of the vessel also revealed nothing unusual until the moment his eyes were drawn to a dark shape taking a human form appear on the deck. Sensing danger, Yaemon instinctively lunged at his seated friend, dragging him to the floor. It was at that moment that he felt the sting of a fukibari dart striking him in the neck. Telling Mitsunari to stay down, Yaemon stood to face the attacker, only to collapse into unconsciousness across Mitsunari’s body.
Mitsunari scrambled to his feet, but the attacker was gone and he and the guards who had witnessed the attack rushed to the side of the boat in time to see the wake of someone swimming away in the dark, still waters. Mitsunari shouted to the guards to shoot their arrows ahead of the wake.
“He’s hit,” Mitsunari called out, pointing to the moving shape. “See, the arrow is still upright in the water and moving. We need more lanterns.” Mitsunari then called out to the scullers at the stern of the Yakatabune to pursue the shape, but realising he needed to attend to Yaemon, he quickly changed his mind and ordered the Yakatabune to head back to the dock.
“He must have drowned,” said Mitsunari, addressing a guard. “Whoever he is, he could not possibly scale the moat’s steep embankments while wounded with an arrow.” Mitsunari returned to Yaemon’s side and called out to the scullers, “Hurry, we must get Yaemon to a physician.”
For three days, the Taiko’s physicians attended to a delirious Yaemon in Mitsunari’s quarters at the castle, but were helpless to stop his raging fever. As Yaemon moved in and out of consciousness, he called out Mitsunari’s name many times, but by the fourth day, a strange paralysis had set in, and he fell silent. Although unconscious, with a barely perceptible heartbeat, a stream of yellowish saliva continued to dribble uncontrollably from his mouth.
“Is there any news about Yaemon, my lord?” Mitsunari asked Hideyoshi.
“My physicians say it is a poison they are not familiar with,” Hideyoshi replied. “They are trying several antidotes, but they fear he is on the brink of death.” A downcast Mitsunari bowed before his lord.
“Jibu, we have raked the moat. There is no sign of a body,” said Hideyoshi.
“He must have escaped, somehow,” said an astonished Mitsunari.
We must find him if only to discover the type of poison he used, Mitsunari thought.
“The castle grounds have been sealed off. Not even a tanuki can get out,” said Hideyoshi, attempting to reassure Mitsunari. “But I am at a loss to understand why anyone would go to so much trouble to assassinate a priest.”
“I fear Yaemon was not the target, my lord,” said Mitsunari. “It was me. Yaemon tried to save my life.”
“You were the target?” exclaimed a surprised Hideyoshi. “Again, I must ask, why would anyone go to so much trouble to kill you?” Mitsunari wanted to tell Hideyoshi of his burden, but he knew he had to be careful, for the Taiko must connect none of this with Ocha and his son Hideyori.
“My lord, if you recall, twenty-three years ago, you asked me the same question. Remember, I was the troubled boy you found sobbing uncontrollably behind your stables at Imahama. The one who confessed to you. I was a spy.”
“Yes, I remember. You were Shogun Yoshiaki’s songbird, but together we turned the tables on that fraud and defeated him. What has this got to do with my question?” said Hideyoshi.
“As you know, I spied on you because my adopted father’s life was held hostage. I had told you, knowing that I risked you executing me on the spot, but I did not care. If I was dead, I would be of no value to Yoshiaki, and neither would my father. He would be safe. It was only later that I discovered I had been adopted, a discovery that had set-in motion a sequence of events leading me to make another discovery, the identity of my natural mother,” said Mitsunari.
“Yes, I know all that,” said Hideyoshi, now becoming annoyed. “Your mother, I understand, was a Kunoichi assassin and a double agent for both the Tokugawa and Takeda.”
“How did you know that?” exclaimed a surprised Mitsunari.
“Fool. I make it my business to know all about those I keep close. I too make use of shinobi when I need to, and I also know that your mother was raped by a priest named Hajikano Masatsugu at the Daizenji Temple in Kofu,” said Hideyoshi.
“Hajikano Masatsugu was not the one who raped my mother,” said Mitsunari. “It was the Takeda leader himself, Shingen.” Mitsunari studied the surprised expression on Hideyoshi’s face.
Your shinobi did not tell you that, did they?
“Are you telling me you are the illegitimate son of Takeda Shingen?” said Hideyoshi before adding, “the world is full of illegitimate sons. Shingen’s heir, Katsuyori, was the last of his line and his head rests at the Okunoin on Mount Koya. After the battle of Tenmokuzan, Lord Nobunaga and Ieyasu had every Takeda they could find executed. The Takeda clan no longer exists. What reason is there to kill you?”
“Not quite, my lord,” said Mitsunari. “Not all the Takeda were eliminated. After Tenmokuzan, the Takeda clan dispersed themselves throughout the land and remained in the shadows, waiting for their chance. Even Shingen’s feared the Mitsu-mono network of shinobi operatives remains active.”
“How is it you know so much of this?” asked Hideyoshi.
“The Mitsu-mono have warned me there is a plot to kill me,” said Mitsunari. “I am a threat to the Tokugawa. Lord Ieyasu believes that the Mitsu-mono want to resurrect the Takeda clan through me, being the last of Shingen’s line.”
“Are you accusing Ieyasu of plotting to kill you?” said Hideyoshi.
“It is not my place to accuse Lord Ieyasu, besides he will deny it anyway, but his retainer, Hanzo Hattori, who is an Iga shinobi, is determined to get rid of me,” said Mitsunari.
“This is a hard story to believe, Jibu, but I know you are not one for making things up. You realise that, if what you say is true, then you not only pose a threat to the Tokugawa but also to me,” said a stern-faced Hideyoshi.
#
Mitsunari sat alone in Lady Nene’s drawing room, waiting for Ocha’s maidservant, Hatsume, to arrive. His left hand rested on the hilt of his sword that lay on the floor alongside him.
I must be careful. She is Kunoichi and will be well-prepared for me.
Nene’s drawing room was on the second floor of Osaka Castle’s Tenshu and overlooked the Nishinomaru Garden with its four thousand plum trees. It was a sparsely furnished room with a solitary writing table and screen. A raised alcove or tokonoma with a silk kakejiku hanging scroll and a vase of peony flowers was its only decorative focal point.
Mitsunari sat in front of a six-panel byobu screen with painted scenes of willows and the mighty Uji River in the background. Decorated in tones of black ink, gold, and silver on gold leaf paper, the screen concealed a hidden Hideyoshi, who sat patiently waiting for the next act to begin. In a desperate gambit to identify the poison afflicting Yaemon, Mitsunari needed the help of the one person here in Osaka who might know, another shinobi, the Kunoichi Hatsume. He had earlier explained to Hideyoshi that the Mitsu-mono had warned him that Hanzo Hattori had sent his best agent, a Kunoichi called Hatsume no Tsubone, to infiltrate Osaka Castle. Mitsunari also described the failed attempt to kill him at the Fushimi Inari shrine by Hanzo’s Iga shinobi, and his assumption that Hatsume had come to Osaka to kill him. As a Kunoichi, she might know the type of poison used in Yaemon.
Hideyoshi agreed with Mitsunari’s plan to confront Hatsume and strict precautions were made to safeguard the Taiko and to prevent the Kunoichi’s escape. Once Hatsume approached Nene’s quarters, the entire west wing of the castle would be sealed off and five-hundred-armed samurai were ready to surround Nene’s drawing room and prevent any escape. With the trap set, the bait was a request from Nene for Hatsume to collect from Mitsunari an important letter from the Taiko for the Lady Ocha.
As the nine bells of the mid-day hour of the horse rang out over Osaka Castle, Hatsume entered Nene’s drawing room and took her seat opposite Mitsunari. It was also the time of the day when the first meal was usually served, but the lacquered trays in front of her were empty. Her trademark long raven black hair hung loosely over her shoulders as she gathered the untied loose flap of her pale blue kosode, pulling it closer to her chest.
“I understand you have a letter for me to give to Lady Ocha?” said Hatsume, bowing. Mitsunari studied Hatsume, following her eyes as she scanned the room. She was tense, her hands remained on the floor as she knelt.
“Let us not pretend any longer,” said Mitsunari. “You knew the letter was just a ruse, yet you still came. Why? You had the chance to escape.” Mitsunari studied Hatsume, noticing the grin forming on her face.
“Unfinished business, Sir Jibu, unfinished business,” Hatsume replied. Mitsunari’s left hand slowly edged closer to his sword laying alongside him, a move that was carefully watched by Hatsume.
“You will be dead before your sword leaves. it’s Saya,” said Hatsume in a cautionary voice, making Mitsunari hesitate, before returning his hand to his lap.
“Now, you must want something from me, else I would either be dead or imprisoned,” said Hatsume.
“A friend of mine has been struck by a poison fukibari dart that was meant for me, and I need the antidote,” said Mitsunari.
“Why would I know of such things?” Hatsume coyly persisted.
“Because your real name is Kensho-in, and you are a Kunoichi assassin for Hanzo with a mission to kill me,” said Mitsunari, prompting a laugh from Hatsume.
“I fear you are mistaken. Why would Hanzo Hattori hire an assassin to kill one of the Taiko’s most respected retainers? The Tokugawa are close allies of the Taiko.”
“Because he knows I am the illegitimate son of your late father, Takeda Shingen.” Mitsunari noticed the fixed stare in Hatsume’s eyes, and his hand again edged closer to the hilt of his sword. No reaction, he thought. She is transfixed. Mitsunari continued to explain how their father raped his mother as a young girl and how Ieyasu was desperate to kill him.
“Did it not occur to you to ask why Hanzo would want to kill one of the Taiko’s retainers?”
“Why would I,” said Hatsume. “I am paid for a service, and the reasons are irrelevant.” An exasperated Mitsunari shuffled his position, preparing his mind and body for a move that could spell his death.
“The poison,” Mitsunari called out. “What poison would they have used?” Hatsume remained silent and unresponsive as she considered the implications of killing her blood brother.
“I have no such knowledge,” said Hatsume, trying to buy some time, but it was a currency that Mitsunari was lacking.
“Seize her,” Mitsunari shouted and immediately scores of Hideyoshi’s guards broke through the room’s paper walls, their swords at the ready, while others armed with muskets lined up and trained their rifles on Hatsume. Her situation, while hopeless, also meant she had an honourable way to die, as capture would have meant certain death, anyway. One guard edged closer; his sword held high ready to cut downwards while Hatsume withdrew the concealed blades she had hidden in her kimono sleeve and threw four Bo-Shuriken spikes at her attackers. A spike pierced the guard’s eye as he continued to edge closer. The second and third spikes found their mark in the throat of another, while the fourth spike missed entirely, ending up in one of the room’s corner posts. The distraction caused by Hatsume’s response was enough for Mitsunari to grab his sword and approach Hatsume from behind, where he noticed an ever-expanding dark patch on her robes radiating from her shoulder.
She is wounded, Mitsunari thought, but no one here has laid a blow against her. I need her alive.
“Stop. Everyone lay down your weapons!” Mitsunari shouted.
“Do as he says,” commanded Hideyoshi, suddenly appearing from behind the screen, “but keep the muskets trained on her in case of treachery.”
“You are wounded,” said Mitsunari, lowering his sword and approaching Hatsume, who by now was clutching her wounded arm and grimacing in pain. “So, it was you who tried to kill me last night?” he added. Hatsume, more surprised by the Taiko’s appearance, dropped to her knees. She was paid to kill but not to go against the emperor, for the Taiko spoke with the emperor’s authority. Resigned to her imminent death, Hatsume bowed before Hideyoshi.
“So, you are one of Hattori’s Kunoichi,” Hideyoshi said, addressing the kneeling Hatsume.
“I can say no more, my lord,” said Hatsume.
“If the cuckoo doesn’t sing, I will convince it to sing,” said Hideyoshi. “Whatever it is you are hiding will soon be revealed.” Hideyoshi barked an order to seize her and in seconds, Hatsume found herself dragged to the floor and tightly bound.
“If you want your friend to live, then you had better let me go, my lord,” shouted Hatsume. “I have something you want,” Hatsume said with a forced smile.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Osaka Castle
Autumn: First Year of Keichoi (1596)
The sound of whinnying horses, the clash of steel upon steel, and the cries of men reverberated in Yaemon’s disturbed mind as he lay in a state of delirium in his room at Osaka Castle. He heard the battle raging around him, but he was helpless to move, let alone see anything. An impenetrable grey mist enveloped him and yet he thought he could see the faint glow of an orange sun rising higher into the heavens. He heard the snort of an approaching horse, and he saw a shape emerging from the mist and take form. It was a mounted warrior in full armour astride a heavy-set Kiso war horse, which was black as night. The demon features of the warrior’s crimson armoured face mask concealed his face, but it was the distinctive crown of white yak hair atop his helmet and the gold maedate-crest of a demon Tengu that Yaemon immediately recognised. He felt the hot breath from the horse’s nostrils as he cowered beneath the rider, and the firm grip on his arm as the rider leant down to grab him.
“Lord Shingen, you have come at last,” Yaemon shouted as he suddenly awoke to find his hand firmly in the grip of a priest.
“Where am I?” asked a confused Yaemon. His eyes darted around the room, settling on a figure kneeling at his feet. “Jibu, is that you?” he called out. Mitsunari smiled and the elderly priest wearing white vestments released his grip on Yaemon’s hand and beamed a smile that comically exposed a mouth of many missing teeth.
“Shungyo,” Yaemon called out, having now recognised the priest, “Where am I? Why are you here?”
“Why you are in Osaka Castle, and I am here because I was summoned. The Yokai spirit of your guardian, Kitsune, returned to our shrine in Fushimi to warn us of your calamity. We came as fast as we could,” said Shungyo.
“We?” queried Yaemon.
“Yes, the Yokai has also returned with me to reunite with the Kitsune,” said Shungyo.
“The Kitsune?” exclaimed Yaemon.
“Yes, remember me telling you to be wary of all Kitsunes? There are two types, those that are servants and messengers of Inari, and those who delight in mischief and evil deeds.”
“Shungyo, first I must tell you something. I dreamt that lord Shingen had come for me,” said Yaemon excitedly.
“Lord Shingen, eh!” said Shungyo. “Such a visitation by his spirit can only mean one thing: he needs you.”
“But what for?” asked Yaemon.
“That knowledge is beyond me, but as you lay dying, I felt your soul. I sensed its desperation to escape the underworld of Yomi. It kept crying out there are wrongs that are yet to be put right,” replied Shungyo.
