Kill the Shogun

CHAPTER 9

Welcome, welcome!” The gap-toothed man at the door gave an oily bow, rubbing his hands together in anticipation as Kaze and the vegetable merchant entered. The merchant had insisted that he treat Kaze to a drink to thank him for his help with the gamblers, and Kaze had seen no graceful way to avoid his landlord’s unwanted generosity.

The building looked like a large house, and there was no sign on the front. Like many buildings in Edo, it had a ramshackle, hastily built look to it. Much of the town was being reconstructed from whatever lumber and materials were available. The wood joinery, normally so meticulous and carefully fitted by Japanese carpenters as they put together a house like a giant puzzle, was sloppy and ill-fitted, because so much of the construction was done by inexperienced craftsmen. Only the rich, like the new daimyo flooding the city, could afford real craftsmen.

In the entry, Kaze took off his sandals and stepped up to the board floor. He was carrying his sword, having given up even the pretext of not being a ronin. After his encounter with the gamblers, it was obvious to the vegetable merchant and his household that he was not just a street entertainer.

“Just a drink tonight,” the merchant said.

The man with the gap teeth, who wore a perpetual, if insincere, smile, led them into the depths of the building. Behind one of the ratty shoji screens that lined the hallway, Kaze heard the rattle of dice and a thump as the wooden dice cup was slammed to the mat in the room. A small shout escaped from a group of men as the cup was removed to reveal the results.

“Whose establishment is this?” Kaze asked.

The merchant gave a weak smile but didn’t otherwise respond.

Oblivious to the merchant’s discomfort, the gap-toothed man said, “This is Boss Akinari’s place, Samurai-sama. Here you’ll find the cheapest sakè and the fairest dice in all of Edo. Please enjoy yourself and come back. Your friend is a regular here. Most of our customers are regulars. That’s because they know that Boss Akinari always runs a fair game.”

Kaze looked at the merchant with one eyebrow raised. The merchant gave him a sick smile. The merchant had more than just a drink on his mind when he invited Kaze. Obviously, he was testing the waters to see if the arrangement he made with Boss Akinari’s men was valid and to see if he was still welcome at the gambling house. He had brought Kaze along to provide some protection.

The man slid back a shoji screen. It looked no different from any of the others in the hallway, but in this room were a half-dozen men drinking instead of gambling. Kaze and the merchant found an unoccupied spot on the tatami mat and sat facing each other. They blocked out the others in the room, as Japanese are trained to do, creating their own private space in a crowded environment.

Kaze and the vegetable merchant ordered sakè, and the gap-toothed man scurried off. Soon he was back with an iron kettle filled with hot water. In the water were two porcelain flasks. He put the kettle down and handed the two men sakè cups; small porcelain saucers, decorated with a chrysanthemum, done in blue paint. The merchant filled Kaze’s cup with sakè and, in the Japanese manner, Kaze returned the compliment and filled the merchant’s cup.

As they were drinking, the shoji screen slid open and Nobu stuck his head in. The big wrestler looked around, apparently just checking things in the room. When he saw Kaze and the merchant, he seemed surprised. He dipped his head in a greeting, then gently closed the door.

In a few minutes, he returned. He walked up to Kaze, who looked at the large man with a quizzical look.

“Boss Akinari would like to talk to you,” Nobu said.

“Me?” Kaze asked, puzzled.

“Yes. I told him about you, and he wants to have a drink with you.”

Kaze shrugged and got up. The merchant also started to get to his feet, and Nobu put a hand on his shoulder and pushed him down. “No. Just the ronin,” he said.

Kaze was led through the building to the back. The hall was just like the entrance, lined with nondescript shoji screens. Nobu slid a screen open.

Sitting alone in a dimly lit room was a large man in a blue kimono. He wasn’t as big as Nobu, but his bull-like neck and massive arms proclaimed him a man not afraid to use physical force to implement his will. His head was shaved, in the manner of a priest, and he wore his kimono open, as you might on a hot summer’s evening. Across his chest was a blue tattoo that outlined, in meticulous detail, the scales of a dragon. The tattoo showed clearly that this was no holy man. This type of tattoo was favored by palanquin porters and toughs, and the man sitting in the room didn’t have the bowed legs of a porter.

The man looked Kaze over carefully. Boss Akinari was surprised that the ronin was just of average height. He expected a bigger man, considering how the ronin took care of three of his best men.

“Sit down. Have a drink,” Boss Akinari said gruffly.

Kaze shrugged and sank to the mat.

As Boss Akinari handed Kaze a sakè cup and started to fill it from a flask, Nobu slid the shoji shut.

“I hear you gave my men a bad time,” Akinari said, not bothering with the polite pattern of introduction.

Kaze took the cup and dipped his head in thanks. Then he took the bottle and poured Akinari’s drink.

“It was more a lesson in manners,” Kaze said.

Akinari gave a snort. Kaze couldn’t tell if it was a laugh or comment. He sipped his sakè.

“That’s good stuff,” Akinari said, as Kaze took a drink. “Not the swill I serve to customers. After a few drinks, they can’t tell the difference, anyway.”

Kaze didn’t respond. The sakè was better than what he was drinking with the vegetable merchant, but it was not top quality. Either Akinari didn’t know the difference, or someone was cheating him on the sakè he was being sold. Maybe both.

“I wanted to talk to you to make sure my arrangement with the vegetable dealer will go smoothly,” Akinari continued.

“Shouldn’t you talk to the vegetable merchant about that?”

Another snort. Kaze still wasn’t sure if it was a laugh or not.

“Nobu told me you’re pretty strong. You’re the guy who can disrupt things, not that mouse of a merchant.”

“And what do you think I would disrupt?”

“Didn’t the merchant tell you?”

“No. I just rent a room from him. I have no interest in his business.”

Akinari hesitated, absorbing this information, then said, “To pay off his gambling debt to me, I’ve arranged for the merchant to haul things into the city for me, when he goes out to the country to buy vegetables.”

“What kind of things?”

“Do you know what tobacco is?”

“That weed brought to Japan by the hairy barbarians, the Europeans? The one you smoke?”

“Yes. The foreigners introduced it to Japan a few years ago. Smoking it is quite good for the health. It’s gotten popular with some people, but Ieyasu-sama hates it. He’s banned it. Says he’ll confiscate the home of anyone caught trading in it.”

“And?”

“That makes it valuable! The people who like it can’t seem to stop smoking it. I have a string of clients who will pay almost any price for it. Your vegetable merchant will make it easy for me to supply tobacco. He’ll smuggle tobacco leaves into Edo under his daikon, shiso leaves, and other vegetables. I want to make sure you won’t give us any trouble. Those tobacco smokers are real pigs about getting it, and I want a steady supply.”

Kaze finished his drink. “The vegetable merchant is nothing to me. It will be inconvenient if his house is seized by the Tokugawa authorities for smuggling tobacco, but that’s his concern, not mine.” Kaze stood up. He again gave a small nod, not a formal bow, and said, “Thanks for the drink. I have to go now. I want to take a bath, and the public bathhouse in the neighborhood closes early.”

Boss Akinari seemed surprised at Kaze’s leaving. “Now, now,” he said, “you’re a good fellow. Why don’t you take a bath here? We have our own bathhouse. I’ll call a servant to lead you there.”

Having your own bath was a luxury. Like most people in the lower classes, the vegetable merchant’s house had a privy, but not a bath. Everyone in the household used a public bath, paying a few sen for its use.

Boss Akinari bellowed out for a servant, and the gap-toothed man opened the shoji and stuck his head in.

“Take this man to the bath,” Akinari ordered.

Kaze thought, Why not? “Thank you,” he told Akinari.

“No, it’s nothing,” Akinari said, waving his hand and giving the polite response for the first time in his conversation with Kaze. “I meant it when I said you were a good fellow,” Akinari continued. “I can always use good men, especially if they’re as strong as you. I have over a dozen men, but Nobu says you’re something special. If you ever want a job with me, just say so. Say, what’s your name?”

“Matsuyama Kaze.”

Akinari’s face remained impassive, but Kaze was puzzled because he thought he saw a flicker of recognition in the gambler’s eyes. Still, the fellow was hard to read, and Kaze couldn’t figure out what his reactions meant, so he didn’t think too much of it. He followed the servant out of the room.

The surface of the water was a black mirror. The light from two paper lanterns reflected off the surface, hiding the depths in darkness. Wisps of steam emerged from the ofuro and rose into the air, disappearing into the dark light of the bathhouse. The ofuro was a large wooden enclosure, standing chest high, and filled with hot water.

Many bathhouses were open on one or more sides, especially if there was a view of a garden or some glimpse of nature. This bathhouse was an enclosed room, buried in the back of the gambling den. A sullen servant was sitting on a small stool. He looked up and gave a quick dip of his head as Kaze walked in with the gap-toothed man, who then left Kaze and returned to his post. The servant in the bathhouse didn’t seem surprised that a stranger was walking in, and Kaze surmised that the gamblers often used the bath. Dedicated gamblers might gamble for days on end, so being able to soak in a hot refreshing bath would not be an unusual amenity.

With a minimal exchange of words, the servant helped Kaze strip off his clothes and sandals. The servant carefully folded Kaze’s kimono and placed it on another stool, and invited Kaze to occupy the seat he had been perched on. Kaze sat as the servant carefully scrubbed him, using a rough cloth. Taking a wooden bucket with a handle attached to its side, the servant dipped into the ofuro to scoop out water to rinse Kaze off. As was the custom, Kaze would be clean when he entered the bathwater. There was no plumbing in the bath. The tub was filled by hand with buckets, and the water poured on Kaze was free to find its way between the slats of the floorboards and onto the earth beneath the building.

When he was thoroughly clean, Kaze stood and the servant placed the stool next to the ofuro, making it easier for Kaze to get in. The water was scalding, but Kaze eased himself into it with a welcome sigh. There was a bench seat in the tub, and Kaze sat on it, the steaming water coming up to his chin. The heat of the water flowed into his muscles, relaxing his joints.

“I’ll be outside next to the firebox,” the servant said. “If you need more heat, just pound on the wall and I’ll put more wood on the fire.” The ofuro’s water was heated by a copper firebox that intruded into the side of the tub. The open side of the firebox was outside.

Kaze nodded his understanding and watched the servant leave. Then he immediately got out of the tub, took his sword, and placed it next to the tub. He held the scabbard and pushed on the tsuba, the sword guard, until he heard the click that indicated the sword was free of the friction point that held it into the scabbard. Some samurai took baths with wooden swords in their hands, so they would be instantly ready to fend off an attack. Kaze didn’t do this, but he did want his sword, named “Fly Cutter” because of a trick that Kaze could do with it, close at all times. He got back into the tub.

Sitting in the water, Kaze closed his eyes. He was in that curious state where ignoring your surroundings makes you acutely aware of them. He let his mind drift, remembering his journey to the battlefield.

A year after Sekigahara, Kaze journeyed to the battlefield. He had never been there. Since he had no idea where the daughter of his Lord and Lady was taken, searching the central region of Honshu, the Kinki district, where Sekigahara was, was as good as searching any other part of Japan.

Although he was there to search for the girl, he also wanted to see the place where his Lord had died and where Japan had been transformed. What he found was a large, U-shaped valley, bordered by hills. The hills were covered with a wild profusion of unusually large wildflowers. They had intense colors, especially the red flowers, which were a deeper shade than any Kaze had seen before. A great number of foxes ducked in and out of the flowers, covering some hillsides so thickly that the foxes also looked like they were some kind of rust-colored flower.

In another place, Kaze might have found the scene charming, but he well understood what it meant at Sekigahara. The wild-flowers were fertilized by the blood of thirty thousand men, draining their life into the earth. The year before, the foxes had feasted on the bodies of these men, growing fat for the winter so an unusually large number of them survived the snows and lived to breed.

All the abundant life around him came from death.

Sekigahara was astride the Nakasendo Road and only a short march from the Tokaido Road. Whoever controlled this area could control the movement between Kyoto, the ancient capital, and Ieyasu’s domains around Edo.

The forces opposing the Tokugawas had covered the hills, and Ieyasu had marched his army into the middle of the valley. In addition, Ieyasu had decided not to await the arrival of his son, who had a third of the Tokugawa army. The son was diverted besieging a castle, and Ieyasu was furious at his tardiness. If Ieyasu won at Sekigahara, the stubborn castle captured by his son would have no meaning.

Normally, Ieyasu’s battle plan would have been disastrous. His smaller army could be crushed on both flanks by the superior forces sitting on the hills on either side of him. But Ieyasu had bribed the commanders on the flanks to either stay neutral or to attack their supposed allies. Of all the forces loyal to Hideyoshi’s heir that were bribed, the key was the men of Kobayakawa Hideaki, who sat on a hill and anchored the right flank of the army opposing Ieyasu. Kobayakawa was an adopted son of Hideyoshi, so his treachery was especially surprising and odious.

Survivors of the battle told Kaze that the night before, it had rained heavily, and during the early morning, the entire valley was covered with a dense fog. It was impossible to see either friend or foe. Kaze had been in several battles, and he could imagine what it must have been like.

Through the cold, damp fog, the thunder of the taiko war drums was heard. The deep sound of the drums, some as tall as a man, shook the earth if you stood next to them. Some of the drums had arrowheads inside them, to give them the mystic power to penetrate men’s souls. The powerful drumming quickened the blood and put men into the mood to kill or be killed.

The battle was desperate, with both sides winning alternating advantage as the fighting surged back and forth. The opposing general, Ishida Mitsunari, was neither skilled nor a great leader, but he should have prevailed, based on sheer numbers and superior position. Instead, lord after lord refused his orders to attack Ieyasu’s forces. At first, Kobayakawa simply refused to fight, too, but Ieyasu had a warning volley of musket fire sent his way, and Kobayakawa fell on the flank of his own army. By early afternoon, the hour of the Ram, the battle was lost.

And afterward?

Many committed suicide, because their cause was lost. Some fought to the last man. That’s what Kaze’s Lord did, along with his men. It is what Kaze would have done, had he been at Sekigahara. Others fled.

After Ieyasu won, it was time to count fallen comrades and view the severed heads of the enemy. At Sekigahara, Ieyasu viewed heads for hours, commenting on the various foes he had defeated. He knew most of them. Some were former allies, and others were longtime enemies.

Ishida ran from the battlefield, but after three days of starving and exposure in the area around Mount Ibuki, he was captured and handed over to Ieyasu. When he was given food and medicine, Ishida declared he would put Ieyasu to the trouble of killing him, instead of committing suicide. Ieyasu obliged.

While on his way to the execution grounds, Ishida was offered a persimmon, which he refused, he said, because it might upset his digestion. When someone expressed surprise at Ishida’s concern for his digestion, considering the circumstances, Ishida said, “That shows how little you understand. You can’t know how things will turn out, so while you are still breathing, you should take care of your body!” Ishida should have enjoyed the persimmon, Kaze thought, because his head was detached from his body just minutes later.

Kaze knew his Lord had died leading a suicide charge near the end of the battle. His Lord saw the traitors defecting to Ieyasu’s side, and he knew the battle was lost. He took the samurai of Kaze’s clan and plunged into the midst of the traitors, killing many of them before he was cut down himself. Kaze could imagine his Lord at Sekigahara, wearing his best suit of armor, the one with the blue silk cords, leading the doomed charge.

Sitting in the ofuro with his eyes closed, Kaze could picture that charge. He told himself that the drops running down his face were sweat, not tears. But they tasted like tears when they reached his lips.

Creak.

One of the floorboards outside the bathhouse made a sound. Kaze remained motionless. If it was someone coming to the bathhouse normally, then it would be easy to hear their steps as they approached. Instead, one or more people were trying to sneak up to the door.

The door was suddenly slid back, and a man charged into the bathhouse, his sword at the ready. Kaze instantly stood, reaching down and drawing his sword as he did so. All in one motion, he extracted his sword from its scabbard and swept it forward. The tip of the sword caught the man in the sternum and his own forward motion drove the blade in.

Surprised, the man crumpled at the edge of the tub, dying, as a second man entered the bathhouse. Kaze rolled out of the tub, landing on his feet with his back to the new assailant. As his feet hit the floor, he pivoted, with his sword cutting a flat arc that came around and caught the second attacker across the neck and shoulder. With a groan of pain, this man hit the floor, to join his companion.

Kaze stood, naked, and facing the door with his sword in the aimed-at-the-eye position. In the doorway, a third man stood, one foot on the threshold of the bathhouse, with the other still in the hall. He held his sword in one hand, his other hand on the edge of the door.

“Well?” Kaze said.

After a second’s hesitation, the man slammed the door shut and started running down the hall for reinforcements.

Boss Akinari and a dozen of his men burst into the bathhouse a minute later. The two men on the floor were obviously dead, their dark blood covering the wet boards of the bathhouse.

“Where is he?” Akinari asked.

“He was here a minute ago,” the third assassin said.

Akinari quickly looked at the room, his gaze alighting on the stool that had Kaze’s kimono still folded on it, and the sandals next to them.

“He’s run outside,” Akinari said. “Fan out and find him!”

“But what does he look like?” one of his men asked.

“Look! His kimono is still here. He’ll be naked and barefoot. How many naked men are you going to find on the street? Just find him and kill him! Scatter!”

Akinari and his men tumbled down the hallway, looking for a naked man trying to escape them.

In the silent bath, the echoes of their pounding feet dissipated and died. The glow of the paper lanterns cast deep shadows and made wavy orange streaks on the black surface of the water. Suddenly, from the middle of the ofuro, the surface of the water was disturbed. A head of black hair appeared, with the silver ribbon of a sword blade next to it. Kaze surfaced from the black water holding his katana.

He stood in the ofuro and listened, seeing if the hallway was clear.