Japan's Great Chivalric Epic Akuma No Ran: Part 2 Chapter 1.1: A Bittersweet Homecoming
The fortress of Mononobe was the largest of its kind in the land of Mittsu. Located in the south of the over-large province it was modelled after one of the larger Takimoto estates in the Montō region from whence the Takimoto clan came. It was thus an important location not only to their prestige but also to their status as regional lords, sworn to the Tennō and the Kwampaku[1]. In this capacity they had the duty of not only defending the north, but also holding it.
The fortress was immense, more than thirty meters high, and almost a full league wide and half that in length. It was often called the ‘bastion of the north’ or the ‘northern bulwark’ for a reason. Surrounded by towering walls that were twenty-five meters high and half that in thickness, and a moat that surrounded the immense fortress, it was white-stoned so that one might well have believed it built out of ice and snow rather than stones. It was connected by the Takimoto Iron-Bridge as it was dubbed, to a small walled town with a wooden palisade all about it. The town had grown up just to the east of the bridge, and was populated by more than twenty-five thousand people who had established themselves there some one hundred years prior. The bridge could not be raised though there were great gates that were kept shut at night and which were overseen by those within the watch-towers next to the gates. It was only by this bridge that one might gain access to the keep and it was through the small city that Satomine hoped to gain entry to the tile-roofed castle where his ancestors going back two hundred years had served faithfully.
It was the favourite of all the places in the land north of the inland sea. And the favourite place of Satomine who adored it and found that the fortress was everything one could hope for in one. Large, was to state the apparent about it, with the fortress one that was more than twenty-five meters high and twice that in width and length, with the fort surrounded by high walls that were fifteen meters high, and dotted with towers every five meters. These gates stood apart from one another, with there being a city that were to be found outside those gates, with there being another series of similar gates that surrounded the city.
The men at the gates could hardly believe their eyes when they saw who it was that stood before them. There were a great many shouts and cries and whispers that raced to and fro from wall to wall as the guards stared in astonishment.
“Do not release your arrows, it is Satomine!”
“Yet why is he dressed like an Emishi?” Others were to ask, yet none had a clear answer to the query.
It was with more than a little nervousness that Akemi clung to the hem of his sleeve from where she sat behind him on his horse. “They recognize you, yet do not seem altogether as friendly as I had hoped they might be, what are we to do Satomine-san?”
Not bothering to answer her, the youth patted her hand in answer in what he hoped was a comforting gesture, even as he ignored the heated look Akito threw in his direction. “It is I, Satomine! I have returned hither from the north bearing terrible news along with Takimoto-dono’s katana Kazokiri! Let me in, I must speak to Yoshitada-dono please! He must be warned of the dangers that lie to the north!”
Never one to beg, proud and stern as he was, his tone and choice of language had an immediate effect upon the guards. Realizing the gravity of the situation, if the likes of Satomine was reduced to pleading they almost tripped over one another to get to the chain so that they might open the gates.
“Oh thank the Kami, they did not kill us,” Harukor gasped at once, relieved.
“Agreed,” Akito agreed.
Silently, Satomine agreed with them, nodding his head ever so slightly, ere he urged his horse forward. Grateful though he was, to be home once more he was however more than a little aware of the shadow that lay over everyone he saw. The fact that the fortress was not yet under siege, was reassuring to him, for it signalled to him that there was hope still that they might have time to prepare themselves before the enemy’s arrival.
“Right this way,” ordered one of the guards once the gates were open, signalling for them to follow after him.
It was with a great deal of nervousness that Akemi clung all the tighter to Satomine, her lower lip trembling that she murmured to him, “I do not much like this.”
“Do calm down,” Harukor urged with a short laugh, “We are among friends, as these are Satomine’s kindred and he has not yet led us astray and would not do so now.”
Quite a bit more hesitant about his own judgement, Satomine was to cast a quick glance from the other youth to the monk, who looked upon him with a far more piercing eye. It was thus, with a sigh, he chose to leap down from his horse and to guide it forward on foot. In this way the young bushi could avoid the eyes of his companions, whilst seeming decisive. He had long ago learnt this technique when he was still a child and had the chance to observe not only his father, but also Yoshinobu-dono. The latter being the one who had later in life confided the truth behind this sort of decision to him.
It was with more than a little uncertainty that the bushi studied those around him, with their suspicious gazes and where some were concerned outright hostility. He had never seen some of them look on him so, not since his earliest childhood when his mother was still alive.
The tension in the air eased when at last Yoshitada at last arrived. Tall and well-shaped he was a few centimetres shorter than Satomine himself, he wore a short moustache just above his thin lips, and below his hawk-like nose. He was a figure who sought to be as imposing as his father, but as he was untested he had never quite achieved in the eyes of many to lay claim to such stature. Still though, many such as Satomine sought to cling to the ideal that he someday might.
When he spoke though, it was in a powerful voice, one that caused every single man’s eyes to leap from the newly arrived travellers, to the young lord. “Satomine, we had given you up for dead.”
Throwing himself down upon one knee, the man in question shook ever so slightly hardly able to bring himself to meet Yoshitada’s eyes. “I very nearly was, however somehow I clung to life and fought my way through the battle.”
“A remarkable way to describe how you flew from before the enemy, and abandoned our father,” Nobuyoshi sneered with a snort.
Irritated, Satomine threw a furious glance in his direction. Any other man he might have cut down for such an accusation, yet he could not touch one of the sons’ of Yoshinobu-dono. Sucking in a breath alongside his temper, he was to continue, “There is more… much more, for one thing Motonaga the ancient Dark Lord of ancient Makoku has returned. He has a great many men with him, and has rallied the Emishi along with a great many warriors such as Hidemasu to his side.”
The reaction to his words, was instantaneous. Where many had listened with a great deal of interest, they now descended into a raucous laughter that shook the very courtyard of the castle. Such was their amusement that it was heard even in the village just outside the castle walls, so that men were given over to wondering if they had descended into revelry. This demonstration of mockery and ill-discipline also made a great many men glumly say to themselves that the former Takimoto-dono never would have tolerated it.
This though Satomine did not know it at that time, was the first hint that though the news had not yet fully spread of Yoshinobu-dono’s death, the people had come to suspect the truth. Their Lord was dead, and in his place were half a dozen sons’ who would seek to imitate and claim his title for themselves, with many aware that filial piety had never been a noteworthy Takimoto virtue. Most still told stories of the barbarity of the likes of Takimoto no Hideyaru, who had it was said hounded a family enemy the terrible Momohana no Makao more than seventy years prior. Or of the virtue with which the sons’ of Hideyasu; Hideshige and Yorihide had perished eighty years before him against the Nohara rebels nearly one hundred and fifty years ago. The two men had been told to surrender and had favoured death, even as they fought to their last breaths near the Kuronaga Mountain pass. Naturally the brothers, one of whom Yorihide was the ancestor of Yoshinobu were still celebrated in song and poetry to this day. There were many other valiant ancestors that the Takimoto could boast of. In all theirs was the most prestigious line of all the Bushi of the isles of Zipangu. None could compare to them. It was for this reason that they often mocked the jealous Nohara, and Momohana who had but a handful of warriors to compare with in the whole of their family lines.
“Follow me, Satomine, your companions could remain here,” Yoshitada commanded as he turned to lead the youth into the castle proper.
When the young man did not budge, Nobuyoshi growled at him, “Did you not hear the command of your liege-lord?”
“Yes, Tonō, if I may though, this monk Shinkei has been a valuable aid to me in my travels,” Satomine told him, “I would be grateful if something could be done for him.”
“Of course, now do hurry,” Yoshitada replied impatiently.
Though Harukor and Akito had both at various times taken a dislike to Satomine, both men appeared no less reluctant than Akemi to see him leave their company. The two men made to follow yet when they saw the displeasure this inspired in those around them, they thought better of it. Both of them, held tight to Akemi who was soon distracted though with the care of her uncle.
A number of those around them studied the small group of peasants, with curious eyes if slightly guarded eyes. It was however the wish of their liege-lord that they care for them. This was the sole reason for which they were to decide that they had but one duty with regards to the small family that had accompanied the bushi to their keep.
Making his way past a number of men he had either grown up with, or had looked upon once upon a time as uncles of a sort and comrade-in-arms, Satomine was dismayed at their coldness. Not one face seemed to welcome him, seemed keen to see him still alive so that a part of him wondered if maybe they had secretly hoped he might have died with Yoshinobu-dono. Forcing himself to repress those thoughts, he made his way inside.
Welcomed into the home of the Takimoto, which was a large keep that had stood for more than two centuries, and had never been invaded in all the time it had been under Takimoto possession. It was there within those halls that he hoped to find succour after days of hard riding the likes of which he had never undertaken before.
Escorted through countless hallways, ones that began behind enclosed walls with the interior of the building dark and foreboding so that even Satomine felt a sense of uncertainty the further into the castle he journeyed. He was pleased that he had made it so far, and was even more so when they climbed up the stairs which led to the next floor. The second floor’s hallways were blessed with large windows with wooden covers that were often opened during the day, and in some places they were barred by wooden bars that were similar to those of Yōsashima further to the north as was the norm in most keeps on the Isles of Zipangu.
Brought to a halt in the great antechamber where Yoshinobu had once received his guests and held court Satomine was to suck in a breath. It had only been a few months since he had last been there, and yet it felt longer. It felt as though it had been a great many years since he had last been there.
There had been more than one night, more than one day since his departure, since the death of Yoshinobu that he had questioned if he might someday see it again. It had of course not changed, but he had.
He had aged and had changed as a man. He was now older and had lived long enough to see the only man who had ever truly been a father to him perish.
Shaken from his thoughts by the sound of a cough from the other end of the great hall, where Yoshitada was seated he jumped some ten feet into the air. It was thus with more than a little amazement that Satomine watched as the heir of Yoshinobu took the old chieftain’s place atop the central cushion.
A red object full of bird-feathers, it was the height of comfort, with it once having been the bushi’s duty to ensure that it was properly cared for and that when it grew too flattened that a replacement cushion was seen to. It had been a duty that he had revelled in, as household management since the lady of the manor had been cast out of the keep and into the local convent had fallen into the care of the sister of Yoshitada.
Akigara no Tomizen for his part remained where he was standing, an impatient expression on his face as he looked on as one man after another filed their way into the roofed reception hall. Eight men sat to one side, and another eight to the other in a pair of lines that led up to the grand seat where Yoshitada sat.
There were also the two ladies of the house that entered the hall. The first did not surprise the young man, who could not help but study her out of the corner of his eye. As always the lady Himari with her pale flesh, midnight dark hair and flashing eyes, the third daughter of Yoshinobu fascinated him and yet this was but for a single moment for she was soon he noticed followed by a woman he recognized at once: Aiko-donō.
The old woman was grey-haired, with a lined face that bore evidence of a great deal of make-up, with her hair no longer as long as it once was, since Yoshinobu forced her to take the tonsure. A plump woman with an unpleasant air about her, she was to regard the bewildered Satomine with visible triumph and disdain.
She remembered all too well he knew the role he had played in her displacement. It was he after all who had caught her with her lover, Enkai more than a dozen years prior, and had reported it to Yoshinobu. Whereupon the old man had flown into an immediate rage, and stormed the inn where she had snuck off to meet with her lover, at which time he slew the young man before he seized hold of her. The fact that Satomine and others were commanded to search her lover’s chambers and they had found letters detailing a plot to kill Yoshinobu in the name of the lord of the house of Momohana had only furthered the rage of the great lord of the Takimoto.
It was then that he had cast her out of his house, forced the tonsure upon her and had her imprisoned in the nearby convent. Her children had been forbidden from visiting her, with some of them later permitted to on occasion. Satomine for his part in the discovery of the plot had been promoted rapidly within the household and even became the lord’s page and was to be entrusted with all his plots, plans and secrets.
The lady did not say a word. Nor did she need to, as her children and those of her rivals in love took their seats, even as the other lords of the house of Takimoto seated themselves. It was clear now that a second plot had unfurled whilst Yoshinobu had been away, Satomine mused if tartly. The plot to restore Aiko to her prior place of influence within the house of Takimoto was one that troubled him almost as much as the other, so that though he bowed dutifully he did so also to hide his grimace.
It was only after the guard had left that Yoshitada relaxed enough to lean the full weight of his body against the slight bar of wood that was always next to slightly elevated platform the lord always sat upon. Moving it from before him to his side, he leant on it with the slightest of sighs, before he addressed his childhood friend, “Now tell me Satomine, how is it that you came to be here, with my father’s head and body along with his katana?”
Feeling uncertain, Satomine hesitated briefly. Glancing towards Nobuyoshi and Himari hesitantly he struggled for words. There were a few others present, such as Sugawara no Minato, Akigara no Tomizen and the new lord’s younger brothers Takimoto no Nobuyasu along with Minayoshi, the latter two who like Nobuyoshi had never much liked him. Only Yoriyoshi had ever of the sons’ of Yoshinobu ever had any sort of affection for the bushi, and that was due to his being the youngest of the sons’ and also the only son born of Yoshinobu’s second marriage. The lady Rin herself the daughter of a lowly merchant, noted more for her beauty and meekness than the fiery temper of his first wife.
“All those you see before you can be trusted Satomine,” Yoshinobu assured him.
Still hesitant, the youth did not know from whence the words that now poured out from him came, yet when they did it was to the outrage of a number of the men present. “It happens that something similar was said just before the battle of Torakawa, and your father paid for his naïveté with his life.”
The first to climb back up to his feet was none other than Nobuyoshi who always the swiftest to anger, roared with all the fury of a wounded jungle-cat. The next to reach his feet was Nobuyasu, who was no less displeased by the implications against them.
“How could you speak so against our family, after all that we have done for you Satomine?” Himari demanded of him, her voice wounded and unhappy, her words a knife through his heart.
“Himari-dono, it is not that I seek to insult or impugn the honour of the Takimoto, it is only that your uncle Hidemasu betrayed the family and is en route to put an end to the whole of your lineage. In this one situation with regards to Hidemasu the traitor one must be cautious,” Satomine advised urgently, leaning forward ever so slightly where he sat at the end of the room, farthest away from Yoshitada as was traditional.
It was traditional for supplicants and messengers to present their suits before the lord, and in this situation this meant Satomine. To either side sat the family members and highest ranking of the loyal followers of the Takimoto, so that they formed a kind of fortress for the lord who sat at the end of the hall on a slightly raised dais on a cushion.
“Satomine-kun have you any notion, any whatsoever of the dangers that such an accusation might cause amongst the northerly lords?” Yoshitada demanded of his oldest friend, who studied him a hint of dismay in his eyes.
“But you must, it is the truth,” Satomine replied earnestly, whereupon he caught himself and studying the youth he asked of him, “He slew your father, and marches as we speak upon this very fortress!” At those words most of the men assembled there looked on doubtfully, even Himari looked hesitant to believe him. It was with more than a little disgust that he was to complain, “Would you have us surrender before him and those who sided with him against thy own father?”
“Mind thy tongue Satomine, lest we tear it out!” Nobuyoshi growled at him infuriated by the question on the part of the other youth.
“Such talk is necessary, it is what Yoshitaka-dono’s father the esteemed lord would have said himself,” Satomine retorted persisting in his view that action must be undertaken against Hidemasu and Motonaga. “We must rally what forces remain and send for the Nohara and inform the Imperial Court of the disaster near Midorinoki if we are to have any hope of victory in the days to come.”
“Such actions would surely lead to the undermining of confidence in the Takimoto to protect them and to guarantee victory against the barbarian threats against us all.” Nobuyoshi countered at once, with a great many of the lords all about him nodding their heads.
Looking from one man’s face to the next it was with a start that Satomine began to gradually realize that he was outnumbered and outflanked. How long, he asked himself had this been brewing. He was not as close to Nobuyoshi or a number of the other middle-children of his liege nor had he known a number of the other middle-sons of the higher ranking lords, who had now succeeded their fathers half as well as their eldest brothers and fathers. It had not been his duty to attend to them, since his responsibilities had been to their male relatives.
Filled with wonder, he gaped at them and was to bow his head to his new liege. “Tonō, I beg of thee please heed my words! We must rally the north and the whole of Montō if we are to repulse the enemy, and call for aid from the Imperial-Court!”
Yoshitada stroked his bearded chin where he sat. His dark eyes clouded, as he studied some point a little above the bushi’s head. It worried him that his liege’s eyes should prove so unfocused at such an important time so that he repeated himself and bowed a great deal more in supplication.
At last after a moment, the new lord unfurled the paper-fan he had brought with him and had been tapping his knee with while all others spoke, his thoughts elsewhere. His next words served though to deject Satomine who resisted the urge to begin to weep so strongly did they wound him. “Go. I will summon thee later Satomine, for now I must discuss the matter with those I trust. You will be informed of my decision when I see fit.”
It hurt as badly as though Yoshinobu had been struck dead a second time.
Yet there was naught that the bushi could do, other than bow his head and retreat a few steps before regaining his feet, bowing once more and stepping out of the large audience hall. As he left, he felt the pang of desolation at the disgust he saw in everyone’s eyes, but most especially in those of Himari and Yoshitada.
[1] Regent for an Adult Emperor