Authors: Eiji Yoshikawa
"Here, you mad monk!"
Mongaku freed one hand and with a twist of his wrist sent his opponent flying over one shoulder and crashing to the ground. The attendant quickly came to his feet and lunged at Mongaku, who struck him on the cheek with the sutra scroll. As he returned once more to the attack, Mongaku gave him another blow on the chest. The attendant staggered back and fell and did not rise again.
"Will you still interfere with me?"
Mongaku glared at the dozen or more soldiers closing in on him.
"Don't flinch! At his legs!" the soldiers yelled, throwing themselves on Mongaku.
Mongaku still held the scroll, but a dagger suddenly flashed in his right hand. "Get back," he threatened; the soldiers fell back as he made his way rapidly toward some stairs. An officer of the Guards threw himself on Mongaku as Mongaku struck out at him with his dagger; the officer, his arm bleeding, clung to him until more soldiers arrived, overpowered Mongaku, and led him off to the jail.
Mongaku was ordered banished to Izu in eastern Japan. There had been considerable disagreement among Goshirakawa's advisers whether Mongaku should be pardoned or not, for not only was he a priest, but the common people had only good to say of him and even loved him.
Mongaku, astride a barebacked horse, was smiling, his teeth showing white through his beard.
"I hear our good Mongaku had been banished."
"That amusing fellow?"
"Why is that? Banished—and where to?"
"Izu. To Izu, people say."
Sympathetic crowds flocked to meet Mongaku as he rode through the streets of the capital. At crossroads he stopped to make odd speeches to the people until his guards prodded him on impatiently. A little man stood on tiptoe, staring intently over people's shoulders at the hulking figure as it moved off into the distance.
Head high and smiling, Mongaku rode out by the city gate, from which unnumbered exiles had departed in grief and tears. But there was laughter and even gaiety among the crowd as they took leave of Mongaku. Once outside the city walls only a few odd stragglers followed the cavalcade down the tree-lined highway.
Mongaku suddenly turned to halloo to the captain of his guards, who pretended not to hear him. Mongaku next leaned toward the soldier who was leading his horse. "Stop. Let me get down," he said, explaining that an intimate matter needed to be attended to. The soldier stopped and waited for the captain to ride up alongside and give an order. Mongaku, who was marched off into the near-by woods, was soon back, but instead of mounting, he ambled up a small mound and seated himself on a stone, saying: "Bring me some water. I'm thirsty."
The captain shook his head and frowned. It was exactly as he had predicted. He fully expected to have trouble with his prisoner and had taken the precaution of selecting toughened, well-built soldiers for guards—and several more than was thought necessary.
". . . There's not much we can do. Give him water," he said. "Don't annoy him and coax him back on his horse as quickly as possible."
When Mongaku had relieved his thirst, he turned to the captain and began: "While we're here, I want to talk to you. Get down and come here. Rest awhile."
"What's this? You're a prisoner on your way into exile and we're your guards. What do you mean by this? We sail from Otsu and you can talk to me when we're on board."
"It will be too late then."
"We're barely out of the capital and can't waste time like this. Get back on your horse. We can't keep the boat at Otsu waiting."
Mongaku did not move. "You don't want to talk?" he said, and broke into a mocking laugh. "Ah, my poor captain—the last of the Genji in the capital! When I heard that Yorimasa's son was to accompany me, I was pleased at the thought of having someone to talk to. Alas, you're no different from the rest of these!"
The captain flushed self-consciously, then dismounted. Handing the reins to a soldier, he approached Mongaku with a placating air.
"Your reverence, my father often spoke of you. My men have orders not to treat you like a common prisoner, but I cannot have you behave in this extraordinary fashion if I am to carry out my duties."
"No, captain, I don't intend to cause trouble, but surely you won't keep an exile from saying farewell to his friends?"
"There's no regulation that says you may not. The least we can do is look the other way while you talk to a few."
"That's it! I want you to do just that. I'm rather tenderhearted, and when I see how some have followed me all the way from jail, I feel that I must try to console them and send them on home. Give me a little time to talk to them.
The captain frowned his reluctance. "Well then, be quick about it," he said, ordering the guards to the side of the road.
Mongaku stood up and waved to some figures in the distance. The soldiers soon saw several persons approach at a run— four or five young monks, a couple, and a nondescript fellow. The monks were Mongaku's disciples from Takao, to whom he gave a few words of advice. Mongaku's eyes next sought the couple— Asatori and his wife, Yomogi, who had anxiously mingled with the crowd in the hope of having a last word with him. They gazed at Mongaku with brimming eyes.
"So it was you, after all," Mongaku said. "How have things gone with you? Do you still live on the Street of the Ox-dealers? Everything all right? It's time there were childrene, ado you have any?"
"We had one, who died soon after he was born, and there have been none since," Asatori said. "Yomogi and I have known you for a long time, but we never dreamed that we would part like this."
"True, many strange chances brought us together. After the Hogen War, Asatori and I shared food and shelter on the ruins of the Willow-Spring Palace. And you, Yomogi, you were Lady Tokiwa's little nursemaid then and used to come with your pail to the Willow Spring. Yes, how you've changed, and the world too!"
"Of course, that's to be expected. It's seventeen years since that happened," Yomogi said, pressing a small parcel into Mongaku's hand. "Here is some medicine, in case you are taken sick. There are seven kinds there. The other things are rice dumplings steamed with mugwort, which I cooked early this morning. Something to eat when you cross the lake."
"How well you've remembered my favorite sweet! I'm most grateful to you for that and the medicine."
Mongaku turned to Asatori again. "And your studies?"
"That's another thing I wanted to tell you—and you'll be pleased to hear this. Quite recently I was licensed to practice and invited to join the Academy of Physicians. But I have no desire whatever to serve the Court, for I hope to spend the rest of my life humbly in the Street of the Ox-Dealers, helping the poor."
Mongaku nodded his approval. "What different paths our lives have taken, though we want the same thing—a paradise on earth! You're by nature humble, and I—stormy!"
"Good Mongaku, how right you are, and you do well to denounce the countless evils in the world. Still, I can't understand what made you behave as you did at the Cloister Palace, where they thought you insane."
"Unfortunately, Asatori, my deeds and my heart are not in harmony with each other.—Yes, I spent years at the Nachi Falls, hoping to be sanctified by its waters, but I now realize that salvation does not lie in that direction for me. I was not meant for the life of contemplation, for I cannot ignore the evils and corruption in the world. I can only act as I think right for me, and I have thought of finding a way by which to rid the entire face of this capital of its rottenness—the corruption of the Cloister Government and the arrogance of the Heike. How this will be done I cannot yet tell you, but, Asatori, you shall see that for yourself in a few years' time."
Mongaku ended abruptly as he glanced warily at his guards and the captain, who stood not far off.
Fearing another outburst, Asatori motioned to Yomogi with his eyes, but the captain had already turned to Mongaku and was urging him to make haste.
Mongaku mounted his horse. "Go on," he said and then turned once more to say good-by to Asatori and Yomogi.
A young man who stood half-hidden in the grove behind the mound, waiting for a chance to speak to Mongaku, emerged just as the procession moved off. He stood still, gazing after Mongaku. When the latter turned to look back once more, a swift look of recognition passed between them. Then Mongaku turned coolly and stared before him at the sunlight piercing the tunnel of leaves.
As Yomogi and Asatori turned to go, they heard someone calling them by name.
"Oh? When did we last meet?"
"Perhaps you remember seeing me at Funaoka Hill several years ago—at the funeral, when my mistress Toji fell ill. You were very kind to her."
"Yes, to be sure, you were with the dancing-girls who were looking after the sick woman."
"Yes—and my mistress called on you later at your home in the Street of the Ox-Dealers to thank you."
"Now I remember. . . . Are you on your way somewhere?"
"I came to say good-by to the prisoner."
"You knew him, too?"
"A long time ago. He gave me some advice when I needed it most and I have always been grateful to him for it. But that is about all," said the young man. He seemed anxious to say more and continued: "If it were not for him I shouldn't be alive today, nor this good woman's mistress. Two lives were spared that day I met him."
Yomogi started, then stared at the stranger whose eyes were fixed on hers. The stranger looked cautiously down the road and, seeing no one, whispered:
"Yomogi—you and I served Lord Yoshitomo of the Genji almost twenty years ago. Don't you remember?"
"Yes, his lady—"
"Lord Yoshitomo was your mistress's lover, you know."
"I can't help weeping when I think of the past—"
"I was Lord Yoshitomo's favorite retainer. Surely you haven't forgotten that it was I who tried to avenge my dead lord when your mistress took Kiyomori for her lover. It was I who left that note in the garden at Mibu villa."
"Why, you must be Konno-maru!"
"I am."
Yomogi's eyes widened with amazement. Her legs shook with fear, and she clung to Asatori's arm for support.
"You needn't be afraid," Konno-maru said, "I gave up all my evil plans long ago. I became a servant in the gay quarters and have watched over Lady Tokiwa at a distance."
Yomogi suddenly seemed to be ashamed of her fears. "Konno-maru, do you sometimes see my lady?" she asked.
"Yes, for almost ten years I have stolen into her garden and seen her for moments at a time. I am the only one left of those who knew her in happier days, and she is always glad to see me."
"Oh, what have I done!" Yomogi said half to herself in distress. "I haven't been back to see her even once since I left to be married. How is my lady these days?"
"She has been unwell for almost a year."
"Ill?"
"She has kept to her bed these last six months. I haven't seen her once in all that time, though I still go to her garden secretly."
"I had not dreamed that she was so ill. . . ."
"But for the good monk, I would not have come here today I wanted to speak to you. It's rather sudden, but—" Konno-maru turned to Asatori. "Could you take a message to her for me?"
Asatori opened his mouth for the first time.
"Why do you ask me?"
"You are a physician and Yomogi was once her maid, so it won't be difficult for you to see the lady. I want you to give her something for me."
Asatori looked at his wife hesitantly and did not reply. But Yomogi, pleased at having an excuse to call on her former mistress, agreed at once.
"It would be no trouble at all, and if my husband comes with me he can find out why she is unwell. She would be quite pleased to see us I'm sure. What did you want us to take her?"
"I don't have it with me now, but tomorrow night I will bring it to your home. Remember that this must be kept a secret."
"Naturally, we shan't tell anyone."
"I don't know whether to believe this or not, but I've been told that agents of the Heike are everywhere, listening and looking."
"But you're not asking us to do something that's difficult, are you?"
"Not at all. Just see that a very small packet is put into my lady's hands. Don't let it fall into the hands of any of the Heike, or she may get into trouble. This must be kept an absolute secret. I'll come to the Street of the Ox-Dealers tomorrow night," Konno-maru ended, and slipped away down a footpath.