The Curse of Koshiu: A Chronicle of Old Japan

My lord was himself again, and, being so, was desperately tetchy. This was untoward. Otherwise, a wary hint might have been thrown out by the trusted and war-beaten officer who rode beside him as to the reckless proceedings of his favourite. In the present condition of his temper, interference might produce explosion. Well, time is the best guide. If detained at Kiŷoto, he might see some one he liked better, and forget O'Kikú, and then she could be relegated to a convent as lumber is removed to a godown.

The samurai were in high spirits, and noisy withal, and the Daimio observed with displeasing the effect of discipline relaxed. So soon as he returned home he would set his castle in order, he resolved, – suppress undue lawlessness, – check familiarity. When he returned? Would the nightmare crush him again-numbing his limbs, breaking his spirit? Surely not. Why should he ever return? Was he not lord of other castles? Could he not appropriate at will, with the strong hand of might, any stronghold that should take his fancy? Tsu could be left to O'Tei and to the goblins. Henceforth it was a hateful spot, recalling humiliation and pain. And then he mused about O'Kikú-entrancing little fairy! A pity she was unreasonably jealous, for all those stories about his wife and his brother were too absurd to be believed. Yet were they? What, after all, if the concubine were right, and Sampei's air of offended dignity a piece of clever masquerading? Had he, the chief, not seemed to detect something like commiseration on the bronzed features of his warriors? Why should they pity him? Perhaps they knew too well that, behind his back, his wife and brother held clandestine meetings. Of course, this must be it. Scales fell from his eyes, and he trembled with passion. His first wife was deceiving him, and with his brother! Hence their waning respect and covert pity. And, fool that he was, he had left the two together. Grinding his teeth, he twitched the rein so sharply that Typhoon, beflecked with foam, fell back upon his haunches. And then, in fitful mood, he laughed again. To Kiŷoto first to tie up loosened strands, then back to Tsu with furtive speed! He would swoop upon both the guilty ones, catch them off their guard, and make of them an example for all time.

The peasants, scared out of their wits by the truculent bearing of the soldiery, betook them to the woods, and lurked in hiding till the enemy had passed. At the top of the mountain, just where the way is level, before dipping down through a thicket of wind-tossed pines, there stood a modest tea-house where my lord was wont to sleep on his journeys between his castle and the capital. Here he resolved to stop as usual, and, after bathing, enjoy his dinner. The landlord and his daughters came smiling forth, and, clapping palms upon their thighs, knelt down and rapped foreheads on the floor. My lord was paler than his wont, observed mine host, with profuse sighing; and thin, which tore in twain the hearts of his loyal vassals; indeed they had heard that he was grievously sick-almost unto death. Had not my lord of Nara gone by recently and brought the evil tidings! One and all had wept, and offered prayers for his recovery. But my lord was young, and would speedily recover, thanks to the elasticity of youth. And so on, with many genuflections and drawings in of the breath; sibillations, and head-rappings; while No-Kami's face grew purple, and he growled a string of curses.

Nara dared-the insolent dotard! – he dared to spread reports among the people to the detriment of him, the Hojo! Sick unto death, forsooth! He burned to continue his journey forthwith, that the old schemer might be swiftly punished. Hark! What was that? A clatter of hoofs on the hard road. A betto, breathless, wearing the badge of Tsu. What had chanced? Not an accident to the fair O'Kikú? Anything but that. The anxiety of No-Kami caused the warriors to glance with grim meaning from one to another, and shake their heads. How infatuated was their lord with that brazen hussy! A lacquer box, bound with a red cord, containing a roll-a letter scrawled by the dear one. The darling faithful fairy was pining in the absence of her love! Retiring to the inner chamber, with its fine white mats, and gold ceiling painted with many fans, he proceeded to peruse the scroll. "He must not be angry with his little slave in that she perforce must write to him." (Angry! and with her? At home he might have snarled, but now time and distance were between them.) "She was not so well-disciplined, springing from the warm-hearted people, as my lady, the chill chatelaine." (No, in sooth! O'Tei would be long ere she despatched love-missives to her husband.) "She was silly enough to adore my lord so well that each moment out of his company was like a dagger-stab; and yet, she had comfort in his absence!"

Here was a mystery concerning which he must not be jealous, since the comfort of which she spoke would affect him as well as her. My lord must give way before her whim, and be patient, or if not patient, must hasten home the sooner, that the grand secret of joy might be divulged. Softened, he laid the paper down. He must be a brute indeed who hath not a tender spot in his ruggedness for one who so unselfishly adored! The guileless, silly child! What was the grand secret that was to be the harbinger of doubly-concentrated bliss? Stay! there was a postscript to the letter, and the Hojo scrunched its frail tissue in his palm. Under the green leaf lies the scorpion. "Since my lord went they are at ease, and the Abbess a shameless pander!" That was all, but it was enough to remove the sweetness from the rest, – the one drop of gall that could turn a whole dish sour.

At ease, were they! Not for long-not for long! Squatting on the mat, with a futon, or wadded quilt, about his shoulders, and his cold hands spread over the hibachi, where charcoal ashes distributed a mockery of warmth, No-Kami quivered now in every racked sinew. Did everybody unite to beard him? He was fallen so low as that! The prestige due to wholesome fear was paling. He had been too lenient. That pageant had somehow been a failure. Only just in time had he recovered from his illness. It was time to turn over a new leaf and coerce the rebellious and unruly with an increase of severity. A plague on the noisy soldiery! They were as insolent as all the rest. The world was out of gear. What hideous din was that in the outer chamber? Springing to his feet, the Daimio flung back in their grooves the paper-covered doors, and in a voice of thunder demanded the cause of the uproar. A disgraceful scene, in truth! The landlord, but now so smiling and obsequious, was tied and gagged. So were the plump girls, his daughters, whose bosoms heaved with terror-stricken sobs, while tears coursed down their cheeks, and their locks, though plastered thick with oil, were bereft of pins and ornaments.

What was the meaning of this? stammered their outraged lord, so soon as indignation permitted of speech. Sure they must be out of their senses! He had borne with their impudence upon the road, – their offensive, rollicking gait and vulgar swagger; but now they had gone too far, and should feel the weight of his displeasure. Were they samurai-faithful and obedient henchmen-or ronins-bandits? There had been more than enough quarrelling of late between the soldiers and the lower class. Landlord and maidens must be instantly released with full apologies, with substantial damages in the future, which should be extorted from the pay of the truculent and peccant braves.

The Hojo was awful in his indignation-a whirlwind! Sure the thunder-god looked like this while deafening with his gongs the firmament. The girls were set free with tardy sullenness, and cowered together, trembling; but the man who menaced the landlord clutched him still, with the point of a dirk at his throat, while he who was in command approached his lord with extreme humility, begging to be permitted to explain.

"We were toying with the maidens," he bluntly urged-"surely an appropriate amusement for soldiers-when one, too roughly pinched, perhaps, turned on the aggressor with a jibe. 'Take heed,' she shrieked, in shrill resentment at that which was only gallantry, 'lest you strutting fowls get your fine feathers clipped!' She would have said more, but her sire, in fear, clapped a hand upon her mouth, exhorting her to prudence. She had betrayed herself-uttered a dark threat, whose meaning it became us to learn. With the steel at his throat the man had made confession-and a pretty coil it was! The clans are gathering, he says; silently, by detachments, in the mountains, ready, at given signal to fall unawares upon my lord. That was why the Daimio of Nara deigned to visit us. He came to reconnoitre the ground, to see if we were prepared and vigilant. While we reposed in false security (this varlet hath confessed) the hostile daimios have been summoning their men, have enrolled in their service paid auxiliaries; disbanded, wandering ronins; soldiers of fortune, ruffians. And this, as it seems (though one can scarce believe it), with the tacit consent both of the Holy Mikado and of the Shogun at Kamakura. This summons to Kiŷoto is a snare, detected luckily in time. May it please my lord-pardoning the arrogance of his poor servant in advising-to take horse at once, and, riding quickly home prepare for danger. Finding their plot discovered, they will follow, striving, by myriads like locusts, to undo us. But the walls of Tsu are strong. Behind them we may laugh, secure."

Having made this long oration, the chief of the samurai bent down, touched with his lips the hem of my lord's hanging girdle, and then rising, with bowed neck awaited orders. A discovery indeed! When closeted with his child the crafty Nara had doubtless explained the plot, had held out the hope of freedom to the prisoner; and she, as consummate in dissimulation as her parent, had seen without a quiver of an eyelid her husband riding to his death. Perhaps Sampei knew also of it-of course he did. Ambitious for himself, a willing tool of Nara's! Faithless traitors all! O'Kikú was the only true one!

His brows knitted in deep concern, the Daimio waved his hand, and retired for a while to think. The suddenly-opened chasm that yawned before his feet completed the recovery of No-Kami. His wife, his brother, false. That was evident now. The adviser selected by his parent convicted of treason. Incensed Japan ready to rise as one to shake off a weakened despot. Nobody but himself to trust to; no arm but his own to succour him. Return with all speed to Tsu, and place that impregnable stronghold in a condition to endure a siege? Prudent advice enough; but what if the hovering ghosts should on his re-entrance there claim and clutch him for their own. Then would he be undone indeed. But the ghosts had ceased to worry. No-Kami thrilled with glee as he realised the imminence of his peril. How mistaken in their estimate they were of him who held them leashed. What! Catch a Hojo like a rat in a trap? Not they. Not all the united prowess of Japan should succeed in doing it, provided goblins were kept aloof from the contest. Return at once to Tsu. No! 'Twould be a sign of weakness. Instead of retiring, it behoved him to assume the offensive. He would invade the Mikado, as he had often done before, and cow with his scowl alone the poor timid array of hares. By the prestige of his name and the uncompromising power of his will he had held his own since the demise of his father and Tomoyé. It is a mistake for a despot to hide his frown too long. The past should be retrieved by a blow so heavy and unexpected that the hares, quaking with apprehension, would scuttle off without a sound.

Striding forth again from retirement, No-Kami issued orders so prompt and to the purpose that there was no gainsaying them.

The betto was to return to Tsu at the top of his speed, with private instructions to the officers as to increased watchfulness. This scroll he would deliver to Sampei, and instruct him, at the peril of his life without delay to join his brother at the capital. The letter was so sternly worded that he would perceive he had been betrayed, – that the head of his clan was aware of his perfidy, and he would accordingly throw up the game, confess, and sue for mercy.

The Daimio himself and his following would, after a few hours of repose, push on to Kiŷoto. The rice of the men consumed, the horses fed, and a cup of saké all round, and then, away!

The landlord and his daughter; what of them?

The miserable peasant was quaking on the mat, groaning and wringing hands with incoherent supplications, deeply distressed in mind to think that through the blabbing of him and his the tyrant should have received timely warning.

To all posterity would their names go branded down, since but for their folly the bonds of their land would have been loosened. The girls, beside themselves with fear, crawled on hands and knees, imploring clemency.

Folding his arms, No-Kami looked down upon the supplicants, while his features were contracted by a spasm that might pass for a malignant grin.

"What of these?" he glowered. "Slash the father's throat; 'tis given to garrulity and chattering. The girls? Serve them as you will. What have I to do with vermin?"

CHAPTER XIV.

THE MIKADO DOES BUSINESS

Since the return of Nara from his mysterious excursion, the interior of the sad prison-house of the Mikado was quite lively. The kneeling kugés chirruped like birds; their tall black headdresses waved and nodded like sable plumes in the wind. Excitement being contagious, the un-elect, who might not step within the sacred halls, laughed too and gabbled on the outer verandahs, showing their white teeth, and gossiping hopefully. They wist not why they were so light of heart; but if the privileged denizens of the lugubrious dwelling, usually so glum, were gay, it meant that the Holy Mikado was well pleased; and if the Fountain of Honour was content, it was clearly the duty of them, his lowly faithful ones, to vie one with another in sympathy.

After that terrible interview when he was publicly insulted before his court, the miserable Mikado retired into darkness, declining to emerge or to be comforted. He vowed that the three deposed Emperors who were mumbling prayers in remote monasteries were far better off than he, for they at any rate were left in peace, so long as they submitted quietly, and were pitied as well as loved by the Empire. The actual Emperor, so long as he seemed to reign, was held responsible for what was done, and he, unfortunately for himself, was of a conscientious turn of mind. The peasant man who, alas, too trusting, had confided himself to the safe keeping of the Holy One, had been torn from sanctuary, ignominiously executed, together with his innocent family, and the Fountain of Honour was aware that in the eyes of the people he must be a willing accomplice, or else the meanest of puppets. His conscience was torn by pincers. He ought somehow to have saved that family. Humiliation and shame gnawed into his vitals, as rusty gyves into the wrists. No slavery, he declared, while he crouched in his dark chamber, with drops of sweat upon his brow, could possibly be worse than his. A change of masters, if master he must have, would be for the better, since his plight could not be altered for the worse. Not the lowest coolie, – the meanest Eta in his dominions, was of less account than he. If all these chattering kugés, who prostrated themselves so humbly, drawing in breath like humming insects, professing profound devotion, would only do something practical, then would he, the Fountain, sparkle with gratitude, and profusely distribute benedictions.

Nara was a provoking person. Wise as an owl in aspect, his wisdom was much an imposture as that of the sapient bird. As usual he exhorted to patience, droned platitudes through his nose. The friends of that much-tried individual on a dunghill, whom Christians had been heard to prate about, were no more exasperating. When the octopus holds you with his tentacles in fell embrace, you must summon all your strength in a supreme effort to tear him piecemeal. A series of small struggles are mere waste of tissue. The Hojo, as all within the holy prison house were painfully aware, was a portentous octopus, more awful than any of the forbidding monsters, with arms of five feet and more, that are to be seen any day in the fish-market.

Those who would measure lances with him must be cautious-very cautious. Perhaps, looking back on history, the Fountain might remember Yoriiyé, son of Yoritomo the Great, who, banished to the temple of Idzu, was compelled to shave off his hair. Objecting, he rebelled, and, to the general dismay, was found strangled one morning in his bath. The present Fountain was young and impetuous, a boy, and ignorant, and must learn to smile and wait-to smile and smile-and strike! That he should have resolved on a change at any cost, was well. His trusty lords would beat about and see what was to be done. Doth not the ratcatcher's cat hide her claws? – to serve her end perform miracles? With the stirring of the wind the heron rises from the stream. A little faith, and patience.

It was fortunate for the conspirators, headed by Nara, that after his deplorable exhibition of cruelty at Tsu the tyrant should remain quiescent. The snake, for the moment gorged, was comatose. Taking advantage of his absence and inaction, the Daimio of Nara threw his spies broadcast over the land-sent letters to absent magnates inviting them to unite and march for the emancipation of their lord from serfdom. He even sent privately to the Shogun at Kamakura, declaring that if any one was despot in future it should be he, since, by virtue of his post, he was the first General of the Empire, the legitimate leader of her armies. If the Hojo had been at Kiŷoto, and awake, these proceedings would have been at once detected, and crushed with an iron hand. Why was he so quiet in his distant castle?

When the message from Masago arrived, declaring that the Daimio of Tsu was sinking into lowest debauchery, willing victim of a harlot, Nara thanked the gods, and rushed to his imperial master. The other item in the communication-concerning the position of his own daughter-was a trifle. She also must practise patience. She would be amply avenged for present torment at the same time as the Holy Mikado. Was not this grand news, well worth a little waiting-a little suffering? Had he not been right-he, the hoary one, the sage, the experienced, the prudent? They had waited, and the moment was at hand. In exultant joy he flung himself headlong on the mat, and embraced his master's feet.

Of course the latter was glad that evil should befall his tyrant; but Nara was always more glib with tongue than sword. A little patience, quotha. For patience the times were out of joint. A little action now. Answers arrived from east and west, from north and south-some bellicose and ardent, some timid and time-serving. The Fountain of Honour deigned to come out of darkness like a snail out of its shell; but as he lay supported on his hand in the centre of the floor, his mien was so troubled, his young brow so puckered and scowling, that the kugés squatting around in a circle sat wistful, with heads on one side-motionless. For hours and hours he remained as inanimate as they-lost in gloomy thoughts and dumb abstraction. The prospect was too halcyon. The tyrant, firm in the toils of a low woman, might become sodden and besotted. What of the other-no less than he a Hojo-the idol of the army, bravest of the brave? The soul of loyalty (or his face belied him), he would stand by his brother, a tower of strength in an emergency.

Plausible and garrulous and self-deceiving as old men are wont to be, Nara had been quite wrong in his estimate of General Sampei. He, the General, had appeared distressed at the proceedings of his feudal superior. And yet could it be denied that he had calmly attended and approved that shocking massacre, – had stood by with hands before him while infants were slaughtered, – had remained on the premises ever since, perfectly composed and comfortable? His face was a lying mask then. He was as bad, every bit, as his brother, – as much to be feared and hated; for since it was clear that he approved his acts, he would, of course, stand by him to the death.

Nara rubbed his chin, and whilst confessing that that much of the problem was at present not quite so clear as was desirable, stoutly declared that if the distant chiefs could succeed in quietly gathering their adherents, and, unsuspected, mass them within distance of the capital the desired end would be attained, Sampei or no Sampei. The Hojo must be lulled in false security, and awake to a sense of danger only in time to perish. In order to reconnoitre the ground, he, the veteran, would stir his old bones and pay a visit to his son-in-law. There would be naught in this to raise suspicion, for what could be more natural than that a fond parent should make a pilgrimage to visit his only child?

He went, as we have seen, and in due course returned, so jubilant and radiant that even his glum master perforce believed in him. Their prayers were heard. The gods were sick of tyranny. The despot, blindfold, was marching to his fate. His foot was on the edge of the abyss. As the Fountain of Honour in his inspired wisdom had pointed out, Sampei was loyal to his chief, so far, but he was evidently full of disgust, uncertain what he ought to do, harried and worried, wretched. The citadel was more than half undermined already. He, the brilliant general, soldier to his finger nails, moved in a centre of undisciplined debauchery; listess, unshocked, uninterested. Why, a handful of ronins could take and sack in a trice the castle once deemed impregnable! The guards were wrapped in drunken sleep, the sentinels, absent from their posts, were engaged in uproarious wassail Not a peasant for miles around but would hail with joyous relief the advent of a new master; not a farmer or artizan but, with full faith in Koshiu's dying words, would look on No-Kami's downfall as retribution heaven-born. Nothing would be easier than, guided by peasants, to march trusty troops by night through the mountain defiles and take the castle by surprise. Sampei, half-hearted as he was, and preternaturally listless, would acquiesce in the inevitable (would be only too glad to do so), and, his brother slain-no longer tied by fealty-would appear in his true colours. In the absence of their hereditary chief, the braves of Tsu would lose their heads, throw down their arms. For the stronghold must fall in the absence of the Hojo, or the prestige that hung around his dignity might save him after all. Just see how cautiously and well-prepared were the plans of the veteran counsellor. Hojo must be summoned to Kiŷoto on some business; then sent back with a reproof, to fall into a skilfully-set trap. Admitted within the walls that were once his own-but which would have surrendered in his absence-he could be seized and bound, and, in this plight, covered with the green net of dishonour, be exhibited before awed crowds, as a sermon against vaulting ambition.

So fluent was the old man, so completely self-convinced, that the Mikado revived and sat up, while the eyes of the circle of kugés goggled in their heads with mingled admiration and alarm. No-Kami, as we have seen, was sent for in peremptory fashion. The Fountain suggested timidly that this was rash, perhaps; and then old Nara laughed loud and long and savagely.

"Time was, O Holy One!" he cried, with wagging headpiece, "when 'twas I who prated of prudence. Now I say be brave! There is naught to fear: his claws are cut. I have looked on him! There is terror in his bloodshot eyes, dread in his shaking hands and shuffling footsteps. The dying farmer called down a curse, and it works visibly, for his confidence in himself has gone-his belief in a lucky star!"

All this was vastly refreshing to the inhabitants of the palace, accustomed as they were to groaning. The Mikado, with mind at ease, sat on his lacquered chair within the white-curtained tent, and gave audience to all and sundry. The weather was bitterly cold.

A cutting wind blew down from the hills, sheeted last night with snow. Nevertheless, so benignantly disposed was he, that the Fountain of Honour ordered the shutters of the Great Hall to be removed, that those without might see him, and fall in ecstasy upon their faces. With a hibachi of fine bronze before him, clad in wadded robes with seven linings, his wizened visage was cut clear against the background by the towering black gauze leaf that he only of mortals was permitted to wear erect. Despite his wadding and his charcoal he was chilly; but what matters that when the heart is warm, the spirits high? The moment of triumph was approaching when he would claim an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth, – exact a cry of pain for each that himself had uttered. Since the despot was already so stricken by outraged Buddha as to be spiritless, he, the Fountain, would improve the occasion when the culprit arrived, in order that all might perceive and applaud the seasonable resumption of his free will and dignity. Openly now he discussed with assembled kugés each succeeding step. Troops were already moving silently, under cover of the dark, towards the castle. Others were approaching from afar in the direction of the central rendezvous. On the arrival of the culprit-news had already been received of his starting-he should be solemnly arraigned and admonished, then banished in disgrace to his lands at Tsu. There he would fall into the snare, be brought back with every mark of insult and ignominy to the capital-and then-and then! What was to happen after that was too delicious to be too promptly settled. It was a morsel to be turned over and over on the tongue, not swallowed with a gulp.