The Old Men of Omi

Chapter Five

Tora was whistling again. Sometimes things worked out perfectly. His master had looked rested and pleased to be with his best friend, and he, Tora, had been given a day off to have a good time in a place that promised all manner of entertainment.

To make things perfect, he had found a friend. Having taken the opportunity to study the workings of the provincial headquarters, he had paid a visit to the provincial guard, introducing himself as Lieutenant Sashima, formerly commander of the Chikuzen guard. The local commander, a native son belonging to provincial gentry, turned out to be haughty and short with him. Tora decided the fellow felt threatened and became reserved himself. The soldiers were decent enough, but that was probably due to their sergeant, a cheerful older man with twinkling eyes and a ready laugh.

When Tora mentioned that he planned to have a look at the town, Sergeant Okura offered to join him, since he had some business to attend to in the harbor area.

Okura lost no time apologizing for his commander. “He’s a dry old stick,” he said, “but fair enough. We have to put up with the local gentry who snap up all the best jobs in a province. This one at least tries.”

Tora nodded wisely and told the tale of their arrival in Chikuzen and his confrontations with the police captain. Okura volunteered that his own background was the army. Tora responded by calling him “Comrade” and asking where he had served.

“In the north. Horrible snowfall,” said Okura.

“Tell me about it. My master was governor of Echigo a few years back. Another miserable assignment. We were attacked by the local warlord.”

Okura stopped and goggled at him. “You don’t say? When was that?

“More than fifteen years ago. Time flies.”

“The Uesugi affair! Brother, we must talk more!” They had reached the harbor area and Okura pointed to a large wine shop. “We’ll have a few cups there after I take care of this business. Give me half an hour. It seems we have much to talk about.”

Tora laughed. He liked the idea and Okura himself. “Take your time. I’ll watch the boats.”

Okura headed for the harbor master’s office, and Tora wandered along the waterside.

Otsu’s harbor was large like those of Naniwa and Hakata, and yet very different. All three were busy, but while large ocean-going ships docked in Hakata and Naniwa, traffic on Biwa Lake consisted of huge numbers of smaller boats carrying anything from lumber and tax goods to passengers who by-passed travel by road for a leisurely boat voyage.

Tora strolled about, attracting curious stares because of his silk-laced half armor and sword. The unloading of barges and boats was done by laborers wearing only loincloths and bandanas tied around their heads. They were cheerful enough on this pleasant spring morning, and Tora smiled at some of the crude jokes they passed back and forth when two slatternly women sauntered past. The women gave back as good as they got.

The amount and types of materials unloaded and reloaded for the land trip to the capital amazed him. He expected the rice bales from the Northern provinces; these were stacked into huge piles by a steady stream of the half-naked bearers. Elsewhere barrels of oil awaited transport, as did huge sacks of silk floss and rolls of fabric. But there were also many horses, and large containers of paper, lacquer ware and clay utensils, as well as all sorts of food stuffs. The capital absorbed it all and asked for more.

When he decided it was time to meet Okura and was about to turn back, he noticed a disturbance near one of the larger boats. The steady line of bearers walking down the gangway with their burden of rice bales had come to a halt and a group of people seemed to be struggling and shouting on the quay. Tora investigated. To his surprise, he saw several armed monks like the ones they had seen earlier on their journey. They seemed engaged in a threatening argument with some people.

As he got closer, he counted four sohei, and three were armed with naginata, those long handled halberds with sword blades at their ends. The fourth had a sword. All were big men, wearing the usual black armor and white headgear. They had seized one of the laborers who struggled in their grip. Two men, who appeared to be the harbor master and his clerk, objected to this. The harbor master was shaking his fist angrily. “Let him go and stay away from our workers,” he shouted. “There are laws around here!”

The monks laughed. One said, “The laws are ours. And so is this man.”

The laborer cried, “I’m a free man. I’m a free peasant. They drove me off my land. Help me!”

One of the sohei who had a grip on him, snarled, “Shut up, you dog!” and shook him. The other brute punched him viciously in the side. The laborer sagged to his knees and vomited.

Tora clenched his fists and was about to intercede when the clerk in his sober, dark gown and black cap said sharply, “Stop that! He told the truth. He came to us and proved he was free. I signed him on. He’s an honest man who has served in the northern army. You’ve got the wrong man.”

The monk who had punched the worker laughed. “If he’s a soldier, he’ll get to fight again.” He turned to the laborer. “Tell them! You know what’s good for you, don’t you, fellow? You’ve got a family, haven’t you? What’s to become of them if you don’t obey the temple?”

A look of fear passed over the laborer’s face. He nodded and got to his feet. “I’ll go with them,” he said dully. The sohei grinned. The one with the sword said, “See? All is well. He’s one of ours all right.”

When they turned to leave with the man, Tora stepped in their way. “Halt!” he snapped. “That man stays here. If you have a claim, you can take the matter up with the governor. It’s against the law to kidnap people.”

The sohei stared at him from their white head cowls, taking in his half armor and sword. Their spokesman said, “No need to interfere, Officer. He’s one of our peasants. A run-away. It’s our business to round up such men.”

Suddenly the worker flung himself to his knees before Tora and clasped his legs. “Don’t let them take me, sir!”

One of the bullies snarled, “Up, shitface!” and clenched a fist to strike him again

Tora pushed him back. The monk stumbled, but his companion cursed and came at Tora. He was huge, with fists like sledge hammers, and he was fast. Tora tried to jerk aside, but a glancing blow landed on his cheek. His head snapped back and for a moment he saw stars. When his eyes cleared, he saw that two of the monks had lowered their halberds.

Tora was badly outnumbered and he had no doubt that all four of them were trained fighters. Besides, a sword is at a disadvantage against a halberd. But he drew his sword anyway and stood his ground, crouching slightly and balancing on the balls of his feet, ready to move in any direction when the attack came.

Nothing happened for the space of several breaths. Then the monk with the sword said, “Leave him be. His time will come.”

There was some foot shuffling and a good deal of glaring, but eventually the three sohei with halberds obeyed and all four stalked away. The laborer still knelt on the ground and sobbed.

Tora asked him, “Will they come back for you?”

The laborer wiped his eyes and blinked up at him. “Maybe, maybe not. Are you with the provincial guard?”

“No, but I know the governor.” Tora’s cheek started to hurt. He looked around. “What’s going on here?”

The overseer came up and said, “Thank you, Officer. Please tell the governor that those bastards come down from their mountain whenever they need more slaves. They help themselves to the best workers and claim they escaped from temple land and owe them labor or money. Somebody should put a stop to this. He was the third man they tried to grab this week.”

“He seemed willing enough to go with them in the end,” said Tora, frowning.

The laborer said sadly, “I’ve got a wife and children. They might get them, too.”

Tora’s eye was throbbing. He wondered if he had made things worse. “I take it you prefer to work here. But if you really left their land, they have a right to make you go back.”

The overseer looked disgusted. “You can believe what you want, but around here we’ve learned not to trust those hooded bastards.” With that he turned and shouted orders at the other bearers, who had stood at a distance, watching the encounter. Soon the line formed again and the rice moved out of the boat and onto the land. The laborer got to his feet, nodded to Tora, and joined them.

The clerk shook his head and walked away.

Tora stood for a moment longer, then walked back to the wine shop. He did not like what he had just witnessed. Even if the monks had the law on their side, they should not be allowed to enforce it themselves. What was the world coming to, if every landowner simply arrested his people without taking the matter to the governor or prefect?

Okura was sitting at one of the outside tables. Also waiting was a flask of wine and two cups. Tora cheered up.

“The next round is mine,” he said, emptying the cup Okura handed him. He smacked his lips. “Not bad. You know your suppliers.” He held out the cup for a refill.

Okura obliged, then asked, “What happened to you?”

“A small disagreement with some fractious monks. Four of those sohei raided the laborers unloading a boat and tried to take one of the men away. I interfered. What’s going on here?”

Okura’s face fell. “Those cursed sohei,” he muttered. “They’re always at it. They’re either recruiting new soldiers or arresting men for hard labor on their land. They own just about all the land in Omi.”

Shocked, Tora said, “Surely not.”

“Well, close to it. Onjo-ji and Enryaku-ji between them own or control hundreds of hamlets. The peasants and landowners signed over their estates to gain tax-free status. The temples allow them to keep their harvest and buy their rice at a discount. That way, both profit.”

“That should be against the law.”

“Who’s going to oppose a powerful temple? The court always decides in favor of the monks.”

“Surely the governor can put a stop to what I just saw?”

Okura shook his head. “He’s a good man, but he will not tangle with either temple.”

“Well my master’s here to do just that,” Tora said angrily. “I’ll let him know what’s going on.”

“Good luck!” Okura grimaced. “I’d like to see it. We’ve had too much trouble, and it’s been getting worse lately. But drink up. You owe me some stories concerning that warlord Uesugi. We heard about it in our camp, but it was winter and the news was hard to come by.”

The wine was good and Tora complied.