by VIKING ADULT
and keep your neck plate tight against you.
See that nothing gets under your helmet.”
So his father instructed him.
Kumagai ripped out the arrows stuck in his armor,
glared at the men within the fort, and roared,
“Last winter, leaving Kamakura,
I offered my life to Lord Yoritomo,
and came here to Ichi-no-tani
resolved that here my body should lie.
Look at me! I am Naozane!
Where is Etchū no Jirbye, who claims great exploits at Murayama and Mizushima? Where are Kazusa no Gorbye and Akushichibye Kagekiyo? And Lord Noritsune—where is he? The greater the foe, the greater the glory. Fighting just anyone is a waste. So come out and fight! Fight Naozane!”
Etchū no Jirbye heard this.
He was wearing that day the outfit he favored: an indigo-dyed hitatare,
lighter blue above and darker below, under armor with red lacing.
His mount was a pale gray.
He fixed his gaze on Kumagai, father and son, and moved toward them.
Resolved not to be parted, the two stood fast side by side,
drawn swords pressed to their foreheads.
They yielded not an inch; no, they kept advancing.
Apparently daunted, Etchū no Jirbye turned and retreated.
“Well?” Kumagai cried. “I know you! You are Jirbye!
Is there something about us you dislike?
Come here, right here to me, and fight me!”
“I prefer not to,” Jirbye replied, and moved off.
Before this spectacle Kagekiyo exclaimed, “Talk about groveling!”
He nearly charged forward to answer the challenge himself, but Jirbye caught his sleeve.
“Lord Noritsune has greater threats to contend with. Just drop it!”
His reproof convinced Kagekiyo to desist.
Next Kumagai got a fresh mount
and charged again, with fierce cries.
While he and his son pursued their war,
Hirayama first rested his horse,
then caught up with them and joined them.
Few among the Heike were mounted.
Archers on the towers shot volleys
that fell on the men below like rain,
but the Genji, a tiny number
lost amid the enemy swarms,
never took a single arrow.
Despite repeatedly issued orders
to take the fight up to each Genji man,
the overridden Heike horses,
fed only rarely and too long confined
on the ships that had brought them across,
were little more than skin and bone.
Kumagai’s and Hirayama’s,
well fed, glossy, and powerful,
could have knocked any Heike mount flat.
Not one warrior took their challenge.
When an arrow killed his standard-bearer,
a man he loved as he loved his own life,
Hirayama broke into the enemy,
took the head of the man who had shot it,
and got out again, safe and sound.
Kumagai, too, took many trophies.
He had been the first to attack,
but at the time the gate was closed
and he had not been able to enter.
Hirayama attacked only later,
but with the gate open, in he went.
That is how the two came to dispute
which of them had been first, which second.
11. The Double Attack
Eventually Narida Gor turned up as well.
Doi no Jir pressed the assault at the head of his seven thousand,
their many-colored standards lifted high, their voices raised in fierce cries.
Meanwhile the main Genji force of fifty thousand secured Ikuta Wood.
Among them were two from Musashi, Kawara no Tar and Kawara no Jir.
Kawara no Tar summoned Jir, his younger brother.
“A man of power may do little himself,” he said, “yet gain glory through his retainers.
The likes of us must win glory on our own.
Here we are, with the enemy before us, yet we have not shot a single arrow.
I cannot stand it. I will steal into their fortress and shoot one,
and since I have next to no chance of coming back alive,
I want you to stay behind and bear witness to my deed.”
In tears, Kawara no Jir replied,
“How I hate to hear that from you!
All we have is the two of us.
If you, my elder brother, are killed
and I, the younger, am left alone,
what glory have I then to hope for?
No, rather than die apart,
let us meet our fate together.”
Each of them called on his servant
to tell his family how he died.
They went on foot, in straw sandals and leaning on their bows as upon staffs.
They clambered across the abatis surrounding Ikuta Wood and entered the fort.
By starlight alone they could not make out the colors of armor.
Kawara no Tar cried in a great voice,
“Men from Musashi, we are
Kawara no Tar Takanao
and Jir Morinao,
first from among the main Genji force
in Ikuta Wood to challenge you!”
The Heike men heard them. “These eastern warriors are as scary as they come,” they muttered. “Here we are, a whole army, and just two of them invade us! But what harm can they do? Fine, let’s humor them a bit.” Nobody moved to shoot them.
Now, both brothers were mighty archers,
and each loosed a stream of arrows.
Up went a cry: “Enough of that! Kill them!”
The western provinces, too, boasted
powerful archers: two brothers from Bitchū,
Manabe no Shir and Gor.
Shir was in Ichi-no-tani, Gor in Ikuta Wood.
Shir drew his bow all the way back.
The arrow flew from the string
and straight through both breastplate and man.
Kawara no Tar, transfixed,
propped himself upright with his bow
until his brother raced to his aid,
slung him rapidly over his shoulder,
and was climbing over the abatis
when a second arrow from Manabe
struck between flaps of his armor skirts.
The two men went down together.
Manabe’s servant fell upon them
and took both the brothers’ heads.
Lord Tomomori said when he saw them, “Ah, those were brave men—men truly worthy to face a thousand! I am so sorry that I could not save them.”
The Kawara brothers’ servants cried, “The brothers were first inside the fortress—first inside and first to die!”
Kajiwara Kagetoki responded, “This is all their confederates’ fault. They are the ones who got them killed! And now, at last, the time has come. Attack!” He uttered his battle cry, and fifty thousand men rode out after him with one vast roar.
Kajiwara had foot soldiers clear the abatis
and charged with his band of five hundred yelling horsemen.
His second son, Heiji Kagetaka, got so far ahead that his father sent a man after him.
“No one in the lead shall have a reward until the others have caught up,”
the message ran. “Our commander in chief so orders.”
Kagetaka paused for a moment, then said,
“Once a warrior
has drawn the catalpa bow
his line bequeathed him
and loosed his arrow, no man
can require it to return.
Tell him that!” With a shout he charged on.
“Give them no chance to cut Heiji down!
After him, men! Save Kagetaka!”
His father
and both of his brothers,
Genda and Sabur, followed behind.
Kajiwara’s five hundred galloped
in among a great host of men
and fought with furious energy,
till by and by only fifty remained;
then, abruptly, they drew back and left.
Somehow or other it happened
that Genda Kagesue was not among them.
“And where is Genda, men?” Kagetoki asked.
“He went deep in among the enemy. He may well have been killed.”
At this news Kagetoki declared,
“I desire to remain alive
only for the sake of my sons.
If now Genda has been cut down,
there is no point in my living on.
Turn back!” He returned to the fray.
In a mighty voice, he then announced his name:
“During the Later Three Years’ War,219
when Hachimantar Yoshiie
attacked the fortress of Senbuku
at Kanazawa, in Dewa,
a young man in his sixteenth year led the assault. Shot through the left eye, right back to his neckpiece, he still managed an answering arrow, slew his foe, and left a great name: Kamakura no Gongor Kagemasa. I am his descendant, Kajiwara Heiz Kagetoki, a warrior worthy to face a thousand!
Any man with the heart to fight me,
let him kill me and show his lord my head!”
With fierce cries he charged.
Lord Tomomori shouted in turn,
“Kajiwara is famous, you know,
through all the provinces of the east!
See that you get him! Kill this man!”
They surrounded him and attacked.
Without a single thought for himself,
Kajiwara searched only for Genda,
meanwhile racing, cutting, slashing
backward and forward, left and right,
until he found him: Genda, at last,
helmet slumped back over his shoulders,
horse shot from beneath him, fighting on foot
backed up against a twenty-foot cliff,
five attackers around him, on each side
one man of his own, eyes fixed ahead,
giving his all to fight his last fight.
Seeing him like that, still alive,
Kajiwara dismounted in haste.
“Here I am,” he cried, “your father!
Listen, Genda! Die if you must,
but never show your back to the foe!”
Father and son slew three attackers
and wounded two. “For a warrior,
advance and retreat each has its time.
Come, Genda!” said Kagetoki.
He took his son up onto his mount
and got away. This is what they mean
by “Kajiwara’s double attack.”
12. The Charge Down Hiyodori Ravine
Thereafter the warriors of Chichibu, Ashikaga, Miura, and Kamakura,
the men of the Inomata, Kodama, Noiyo, Yokoyama, Nishi, Tsuzuki, and Shi leagues
threw themselves into a free and furious battle, Genji against Heike—
endless sallies and sorties, endless fierce challenges as men roared out their names,
until the mountains quaked and charging hoofbeats rang out like thunder.
Arrows rained down in volleys and countervolleys.
Some carried the wounded off on their shoulders;
some, only lightly wounded, fought on;
some, mortally struck, lay dead or dying.
Pairs grappled side by side, fell, stabbed each other to death.
Here a man pinned another’s head down and cut it off;
there a man’s head rolled from his shoulders.
Neither side betrayed any sign of weakness,
and the Genji main force by itself seemed far from sure to prevail.
At this juncture Yoshitsune swept his flanking force around to the rear.
At daybreak on the seventh, he climbed up behind Ichi-no-tani, to the top of Hiyodori Ravine. He was about to start the descent when two stags and a doe, presumably startled by his men, fled all the way down to the Heike fortress.
Their arrival caused consternation below.
“Perhaps those deer are used to being around humans,” the men said,
“but even so they should have run from us farther into the mountains.
It makes no sense for them to be fleeing right into an army.
The Genji must have frightened them down from up there!”
Takechi Kiyonori, from the province of Iyo, stepped forward.
“Perhaps,” he said, “but nothing from off toward the enemy must get by.”
He shot both stags and let the doe pass.
Moritoshi protested,
“Shooting those stags made no sense!
With just one of those arrows,
you could have kept off ten enemies!
Now you have committed a sin220
and wasted your arrows, too.”
Yoshitsune stood looking out over the fortress below.
“Let’s send some horses down there,” he said, “and see how they do.”
They drove down a number of saddled horses.
Some broke their legs and fell, others got down safe and sound.
Three saddled steeds landed on top of Moritoshi’s quarters and stood there, trembling.
Yoshitsune was convinced. “As long as the riders are careful,” he declared,
“the horses can get down there perfectly well.
So down we go! Do as I do!”
And down he went, with thirty men.
The whole force poured after him.
The slope was so steep that those behind
found the front of their stirrups bumping
the helmets of the riders ahead.
Swiftly, over mixed sand and pebbles,
they slid for some two hundred yards,
until, on a flat spot, they halted.
From there they looked down.
Huge, mossy boulders dropped plumb before them
a good hundred and fifty feet.
“This is it, then,” they muttered, frozen.
But Sat no Jūr Yoshitsura stepped forward.
“In Miura, where I come from,” he said,
“we gallop over places like this
anytime, just chasing a bird.
This is a Miura riding ground!”
And down he went. Everyone followed,
stifling whoops and shouts to the horses.
The drop was so steep they shut their eyes.
The feat seemed all but superhuman—
something for gods or demons, not men.
Short of the bottom, they roared their war cry:
three thousand voices, answered by echoes
swelling them to ten thousand strong.
Murakami Yasukuni loosed fire among the Heike camp buildings and burned every one to the ground. The strong wind then rolled billows of black smoke over the Heike men. They panicked, and most raced to save themselves by plunging into the sea. Many ships lay ready there, but with hundreds and hundreds of armed warriors clamoring all at once to board them, disaster was sure to follow. Three sank in full view before they got more than a few hundred yards offshore.
The Genji pour down Hiyodori Ravine and set fire to the Heike camp.
It was next decided to let men of rank board but not the lower orders,
who were to be fended off with swords and halberds.
Knowing full well what awaited them,
these held on for dear life nonetheless
to ships they were forbidden to board.
Some of them had their arms cut off,
some their forearms, and there they lay
at the water’s edge, red with blood.
Never once throughout many battles
had Lord Noritsune’s courage faltered,
but now, for reasons best known
to himself,
he mounted his horse, Usuguro,
and fled west as fast as he could.
At Akashi, over in Harima,
he boarded a ship and set sail at once
for Sanuki province and Yashima.
13. The Death of Moritoshi
In both the main force and the one now on the beach at Ichi-no-tani,
the Musashi and Sagami men fought without a thought for their lives.
Lord Tomomori battled on, facing the east,
when a man of the Kodama League approached him from toward the mountains.
“Sir,” he said, “you were once the governor of Musashi,
and the men of the Kodama League therefore wish me to tell you:
Look behind you!” Tomomori did so, and his men with him.
Black smoke billowed overhead.
“Oh, no! The west flank has fallen!” They dropped everything to flee.
Now, Moritoshi was the field commander of the Heike force below the mountains.
No doubt he felt it too late for flight, for he turned back to await the enemy.
Inomata Noritsuna saw in him a worthy opponent.
Whip and stirrup, he raced to Moritoshi’s side
and grappled fiercely with him. Both crashed to the ground.
Inomata was a warrior famed
through the eight provinces of the east.
There was that time, so the rumor went,
when he had torn a deer’s antlers apart
like nothing at all. Moritoshi,
for his own part, preferred to confess
to the strength of twenty or thirty men
but secretly could haul up or launch,
all by himself, a ship that required
sixty or seventy men to move it.
So it was he who seized Inomata,
crushed him to the ground, and held him.
Pressed down that way, his fingers splayed,
Inomata could not draw his dagger
or even get a grip on the hilt.
He tried to speak, but no voice came.
At any moment his head would be off.
Although not the stronger of the two, Inomata was brave.
Unfazed, he caught his breath and asked calmly,
“Did you hear me announce my name?
When a man slays an opponent, he may glory in the deed
only if, before taking the head, he speaks his name and has his foe do the same.
