by Kara Dalkey
Kiyomori chuckled. “That should not be surprising. With high rank comes desire, and being desired. All men know this.” Kiyomori had certainly discovered it. Lady dancers and singers competed to perform at Rokuhara before the great Kiyomori. He often had his pick of the prettiest at the end of the night. Tokiko was not happy with the situation, but she bore it like a proper nobleman’s wife: she ignored it.
Shigemori gave him an odd glance. “Ah. Well. It is said Nijō-sama has his eye on a certain lady, who is out of his reach.”
Kiyomori looked up from the board, surprised. “Out of reach of an Emperor?”
“Yes, for she has already been an Empress. The Senior Grand Empress, in fact.”
“Kin’yoshi’s daughter, who was Emperor Konoe’s consort?”
“The very same. Even though she is past her prime,” said Shigemori. “Nineteen at least, possibly twenty.”
“And you are but a strapping youth of twenty-two,” Kiyomori gently reminded him.
“Well, it is different for a woman, neh?”
“She is still quite the beauty, I understand,” said Kiyomori.
“So I have heard. Well, rumors say that Nobuyori has promised the Emperor that he will be a go-between for them, and that he will find a way to bring the Senior Empress back into the palace to become Nijō-sama’s concubine. Nobuyori has helped him find other women, after all. I suppose such a service could make Nijō-sama grateful.”
“Hm. Yes, I suppose. It is your turn to place a stone.”
“Oh. Sorry.” Shigemori chose a placement that did not seem well thought out. “With both Emperors favoring him, we will have Nobuyori causing us trouble for many years, I imagine. Always striving for greater glories he doesn’t deserve. I know Middle Counselor Shinzei despises him. Odd, they are both Fujiwara, yet they are so different, those two. Unlike Nobuyori, Shinzei is a scholar and can accomplish things.”
“But they are of different branches, my son. Shinzei is Southern Fujiwara, while Nobuyori is Northern. Is every Taira alike, or every Minomoto? You know better by now. You lived through the Hōgen.”
“True.”
“It is worth watching, this jostling amid the Fujiwara. It is as your mother once said, the old wall is developing cracks. If it crumbles, there may be great opportunity for us.” Kiyomori put a stone at the edge of the board, taking two of Shigemori’s.
Shigemori bit his thumbnail. “I see. Yes, one should watch more closely. A thing I don’t understand is why Shinzei became a monk all those years ago, when clearly he enjoys being involved with worldly matters. Now would be the perfect time for him to retire to a life of contemplation at Ninna-Ji, yet I hear Shinzei is moving to Sanjō Palace to join the Retired Cloistered Emperor’s government.” Shigemori placed a stone vaguely threatening to one of Kiyomori’s positions.
“Well, as to that…” began Kiyomori.
“You have heard something?”
“During one visit to Rokuhara a while ago, Shinzei told me how he came to take his tonsure. One day, as he was looking at his reflection in a pond, to make sure his hair was correct before going into the palace, Shinzei saw a vision of his head stuck on the point of a sword. This distressed him, of course, so he went to the shrine at Kumano to reflect upon its meaning. There he met a physiognomist who reads men’s fate in their faces. This fortune-teller confirmed Shinzei’s vision of an early death by sword and suggested that if he were to become a monk quickly, perhaps such a fate might be averted.” Kiyomori placed a stone in a position that might seem random, yet was part of a larger strategy.
“So Shinzei took on the monk’s robes not to better his soul but merely to save himself from death?”
“What do a man’s intentions matter,” asked Kiyomori, “if he does the right thing? Your move.”
“Oh.” Shigemori placed another stone that seemed to have no purpose. “Anyway, with those two Fujiwara, Shinzei and Nobuyori, constantly trying to pull each other down, and the two Emperors, Go-Shirakawa and Nijō, getting in each other’s way, nothing worthwhile will get done. What a trying and disappointing era this will be.”
“Hmmm.”
“You have heard the tales, have you not, that the Shin-In has somehow transformed himself into a demon? There are those who say his hatred can be felt for many li around Shikoku. Some say his curses upon the capital are stirring up trouble.”
“It is possible, of course,” said Kiyomori dismissively. “Yet it is also possible that Go-Shirakawa is … encouraging such stories.”
“About his own brother, a former Emperor?”
“And a former rebel against the throne. So long as the Shin-In lives, there is a danger that some dissatisfied faction or other will try to support him, or one of his sons. Perhaps the rumors of the Shin-In’s transformation are simply that—slander intended to make anyone who might take the Shin-In’s side hesitate. Slander is a powerful weapon, my son, to be used carefully and guarded against with great vigilance.”
Shigemori nodded thoughtfully. “So you have often said. It is sad. We sit like frogs in dry summer grasses, awaiting the day a bolt from Heaven will ignite a fire. Then we Taira must be called upon to put it out.”
“That is why the Chinese character for danger also means opportunity, my son.”
“But here we are, the most powerful clan in terms of military might, and yet we can do nothing to prevent trouble.”
Kiyomori tapped a finger idly against his lips and regarded the board. “I would not say so. In the Hōgen, we stopped a rebellion before it spread. Many died, but it could have been much, much worse.”
“But until a rebellion begins, we cannot know where to direct our power. One cannot put out a fire before it starts.”
Kiyomori allowed himself a slight smile as a plan grew in his mind. “Not necessarily true, my son.” He placed a black stone. “As we were just speaking of Kumano, I have intended for a long time to make a pilgrimage to the shrines there. When Toba-In did so, he found it most enlightening, as did Shinzei. Your mother has often encouraged me to give more observance to the gods. I expect I would learn something… worthwhile by making the effort. We could go together, you and I. Perhaps in a month or two.”
“Father!” Shigemori sat up. “Is that not a most ill-considered move?”
“Hmm?”
“Look, I can place this stone here and take these three of yours. You must be more attentive and not leave your pieces open to capture so.”
Kiyomori smiled. “Ah. But if I now place my stone here”—he set down a black stone with a loud clack—“I can take ten of yours. See?” With deft sweeps of his fingers, Kiyomori removed Shigemori’s pieces from the table. “Now, you were saying?”
Shigemori drew his knees up under his chin. “Nothing, Father. It is clear there is much more for me to learn about this game.”
“Ah.”
Horse Bridles
Early one morning that same month, Minomoto Yoshitomo sat in a storeroom near the stables, going over the lists of broken saddles, torn bridles, lost stirrups, and the like, trying to make up the monthly request for new equipment. He grumbled to himself, knowing it would take weeks for the request to go through one bureaucratic office after another, needing seal after seal of approval, before replacements would actually be supplied. “In the Kantō,” he muttered, “an Eastern lord need only demand of his retainers to make more, or commandeer supplies from those who owe him favors. None of these petitions, seals, and countersignings. It is a wonder the Imperial palace can muster mounted warriors at all.”
Yoshitomo was suddenly distracted by the creak of sounding boards outside the doors and an unmistakable scent of fox musk and overripe plums. “My lord Nobuyori, please enter,” Yoshitomo called out. “What may I do for you?”
Nobuyori slid the door aside and peered in. “Good morning, Yoshitomo-san. How did you know it was me?”
“A warrior must keep his senses well honed,” said Yoshitomo, not wishing to say that the nobleman reeked.
Yoshitomo tried not to cough. “On what may I inform you, my lord?”
“On all matters martial, good general. Perhaps you have heard, have you not, that I have been appointed Great Commander?”
Yoshitomo bowed. “I have heard, my lord, and you have my congratulations.” Privately, he wondered what sort of idiots they were in the Council to have made such an appointment, but the ways of nobility had always baffled him.
“But you have probably not heard of the great efforts made by that underhanded schemer, Middle Counselor Shinzei, to block that appointment?”
“No, my lord, I have not.”
“The slanders he has spread as to why I was not worthy … has anyone ever heard of such a thing? It is as if he insults the wisdom of the Emperor.”
Yoshitomo made commiserating noises.
“That is why I am here, General. It is becoming clear that Shinzei will stoop to anything to be rid of me. I believe even assassination would not be beyond him. Therefore, I wish to learn to defend myself. I wish to learn fighting and archery and horsemanship. To become a great warrior, like you. Then, perhaps, I need not fear Shinzei. Then, perhaps, I might do away with Shinzei myself before he can do anything to me. Hah!”
Yoshitomo gazed at the plump, clumsy nobleman who had probably never lifted anything heavier than a fan, and decided Nobuyori was either woefully ignorant or quite mad. However, Nobuyori was a politically very powerful madman, who at present looked with favor upon Yoshitomo—a fact not to be discarded lightly. “My lord,” Yoshitomo said, “while it would be my honor to train you, I am not, in truth, the best man for such things. You should inquire of my cousin, Minomoto Moronaka, who I believe is now Fushimi Middle Counselor. He is an excellent teacher, I hear, and as well versed in the fighting arts as I am if not more so.”
“Ah. You are right, you are right,” muttered Nobuyori. “It would look strange, my hanging about the Imperial stables, neh? Moronaka has a large residence nearby where I could hide and do these things without attracting notice. I knew it was a good choice to rely on your wisdom, Yoshitomo.”
“I am glad I may be of service, my lord.” And glad I will not need to smell you day after day.
Fingering a bridle of braided rope hanging on the wall, Nobuyori said idly, “I am thinking of having my son Nobuchika betrothed to one of Lord Kiyomori’s daughters. That might give me and my family a tie to the Ise Taira in case … some unpleasantness should occur. What do you think?”
Yoshitomo swallowed hard, suppressing his dismay. “My lord, I must confess that I think it unwise. You know what good friends Kiyomori is with Middle Counselor Shinzei, whom we both have reason to be suspicious of. Such a marriage would be giving the Taira connections to your Emperor, which the Taira might then use to their advantage on behalf of the Retired Emperor Go-Shirakawa and Shinzei, perhaps shutting you out of your Emperor’s favor. You know what scheming social climbers the Taira are. Besides, Kiyomori is so arrogant that he would probably turn your request away, claiming your son is unsuitable. Think how embarrassing that might be. Remember, even as high as they have risen, the Taira are only a provincial warrior clan, such as my own. You, however, are Fujiwara. Surely your son deserves a wife of better family.”
Nobuyori turned, smiling. “Again, you speak much wisdom, Yoshitomo-san. I am glad I have consulted you.” Coming closer, Nobuyori lowered his voice conspiratorially. “You understand, General, there may come a time soon when I will rely upon you for more than advice. I have already spoken with Great Counselor Fujiwara Tsunemune and Middle Commander Narachika, as well as Commissioner of Imperial Police Korekata. They have all pledged their support to me in case some discord should arise. May I have your pledge as well?”
Yoshitomo recognized it was one of those moments when one’s life stands at a crossroads. The seconds slowed down, and his heartbeat sounded like thunder in his ears. He knew if he equivocated or hesitated longer, he might be trapped as Chief of the Left Horse Bureau for the rest of his life. Or worse, his post might be taken from him and his sons denied appointments so long as Nobuyori remained in power. But Nobuyori was allied with the present Emperor, was he not? And Yoshitomo always loyally served the Emperor.
Yoshitomo remembered the oracle at Hachimangu—success, but with great cost. Surely the cost had already been paid, with the death of his father and brothers and his toil in the stables. What was left but success to be achieved? If Yoshitomo served the Emperor and Nobuyori, well, might he not rise as high as Lord Kiyomori and the Ise Taira? Or higher?
Yoshitomo bowed low. “I will obey you wholeheartedly in whatever great undertaking you ask of me, my lord. I give you my pledge.”
“Oh, good, good, good.” Nobuyori clapped his hands like a delighted child. “I knew I could count on you. And in return, if there is anything you wish, you need only ask it of me.”
Tentatively, Yoshitomo picked up the equipment list and held it out to Nobuyori. “My lord, the stables are badly in need of these items …”
Nobuyori snatched the paper out of his hands. “Done, done, and done! If great things are to be accomplished by Imperial horsemen, they must be well equipped, neh? I shall see to it at once.” He turned to depart, then added, “We will speak again soon, good general, I am certain of it.”
As the sliding door clacked shut, Yoshitomo took a deep breath. He paused to offer prayers to Hachiman … praying that he had made the right choice.
The Gift of a Sword
Two months passed and winter fell, a gentle blanket of cold settling over Heian Kyō. In the last month of the year, as he had intended, Lord Kiyomori left Rokuhara with his eldest son. Taking only a few servants, and wearing only the plain white robes of pilgrims, the head of the Taira clan and his heir departed for the journey to Kii Province and the Kumano Shrine.
Minomoto Yoshitomo knew matters had come to a head when he was awakened late in the night with a summons to report to Lord Nobuyori at the Imperial palace. Yoshitomo dressed and dutifully rode through the deserted, snow-dusted streets, both dreading and anticipating what he would hear. He bowed low as he entered Nobuyori’s chambers in the Civil Affairs Ministry.
The room was outfitted with the finest painted-silk screens showing scenes from ancient mythical battles. Beautiful bronze lamps and braziers lit and warmed the room. Cushions were strewn everywhere, and Nobuyori was writing at a desk of carved teak with inlaid mother-of-pearl. Nobuyori wore heavy scarlet brocade robes that rivaled those of the Emperor himself in gaudiness. Yoshitomo could not reconcile his feelings of envy and disgust at the display of excessive wealth. “You sent for me, my lord?”
“Yes, yes, yes!” Nobuyori leapt to his feet and came over to Yoshitomo. Yoshitomo tried not to breathe deeply. “My good general, our hour has come at last!”
“My lord?”
“Surely you have heard that Kiyomori has departed to go on a months-long pilgrimage to Kumano?”
“I have heard rumors to that effect, my lord.”
“Well, don’t you see? Shinzei’s watchdog has gone running off; his son, too, leaving the Taira leaderless. Now is our chance!”
“Chance, my lord?”
Nobuyori clicked his tongue. “You need not pretend to be the fool with me, General. We both know that Shinzei is an arrogant troublemaker who wishes to run the Empire. Even His Imperial Majesty thinks so, but has had no opportunity to do anything. The longer Shinzei stays in the world, the more calamities and confusions we will see.”
Yoshitomo could only agree, though his reasons were personal.
“And what will become of you, good general?” Nobuyori went on. “So many of your clan have already met with disaster—would it not be a simple thing for the government of the Retired Emperor, with the help of the Taira, to wipe you all out completely? With Kiyomori so closely tied to the Retired Cloistered Emperor who is
so closely tied to Shinzei, well, the wish of one becomes the duty of the other.”
This, Yoshitomo had to concede, was a fear close to his heart.
“Do you not think,” Nobuyori went on, “that now we are given this opportunity like a gift from Heaven, that we should not take it? What fools we would be to let Shinzei continue in his usurping of powers when it might lead to our own destruction. Surely, in the name of He Who Sits Upon The Jeweled Throne, we should strike while we can and restore peace to the Empire.”
Yoshitomo clenched and unclenched his fists a moment. “I have long suspected,” he said at last, “that Kiyomori would do away with me the first chance he saw. It is fitting, therefore, that, my chance coming first, I should do the same to him. Since you are now asking for the aid I have pledged, if the signs are propitious, I will with full heart put to the test the fortunes of the Minomoto.”
“Excellent!” said Nobuyori. “I had expected such loyalty. Therefore, I have a gift for you.” Nobuyori drew from beneath his writing table a magnificent tachi sword and gave it to Yoshitomo.
Yoshitomo bowed deeply. “I am honored by your gift, my lord, and I hope to use it well.”
“I have another gift for you as well. Come.” Nobuyori shouted to some servants, “Bring them out!” Then he led Yoshitomo outside. It was very dark and beginning to snow, so Nobuyori had to call for torches. When servants lit their torches and held them aloft, Yoshitomo gasped.
Standing before him were the two magnificent dragon horses, the gray and the bay. On their backs were wooden “mirror saddles” whose pommels and cantles were ornamented with highly polished gold.
“I remembered that you had admired these animals,” said Nobuyori, “and I heard you had some hopes of riding them yourself. I made your wishes known to Emperor Nijō, and, because of your esteemed service, he wishes the horses to be yours.”
“I… I am overwhelmed, my lord.”
“I make note of what pleases people,” said Nobuyori proudly, “and when they are my friends and serve me well, I see that they get what they most desire. I have found that such generous effort is never poorly spent.”
