39741.fb2 TAIKO: AN EPIC NOVEL OF WAR AND GLORY IN FEUDAL JAPAN - читать онлайн бесплатно полную версию книги . Страница 144

TAIKO: AN EPIC NOVEL OF WAR AND GLORY IN FEUDAL JAPAN - читать онлайн бесплатно полную версию книги . Страница 144

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When Hideyoshi's seven thousand five hundred men left Kozuki, it looked as though they would be advancing toward Tajima, but suddenly they turned toward Kakogawa in Harima and joined forces with Nobutada's thirty thousand troops. It was already the end of summer.

Attacked by this large army, both the castles at Kanki and Shikata fell quickly. The only remaining castle was at Miki, the stronghold of the Bessho clan. The battles the Oda fought as they pressed in on Miki Castle seemed to have gone rather easily, but the re­action of fortress after fortress on the first line of Mori defenses had been at the sacrifice of a large number of men. The combined forces of the Oda numbered thirty-eight thousand men, but it was clear that the enemy was going to put up considerable resistance.

One of the reasons this campaign would require time was that, along with advances in weaponry, there had been a revolution in tactics. Generally, the weapons of the western provinces' armies were more advanced than those of the Oda's enemies in Echizen or Kai.

It was the first time the Oda forces had come into contact with such powerful gunpowder and cannon. For Hideyoshi, this was an enemy from whom he could learn many things. Kanbei probably did the buying, but Hideyoshi himself was the first to abandon the old Chinese cannons and equip himself with a cannon made by the Southern Barbarians, which he placed on top of a reconnaissance tower. When the other Oda generals saw this, they too rushed to acquire the latest cannon.

When they heard of the fighting in the western provinces, a large number of arms merchants came up from Hirado and Hakata in Kyushu, dodging the Mori fleet at at the risk of their lives while seeking the ports on the Harima coast. Hideyoshi helped these men by mediating with the other generals, whom he told to purchase the new weapons, regardless of cost.

The power of the new cannons was first tested on Kanki Castle. The Oda built a small hill facing the point of attack, and erected a wooden reconnaissance tower upon it.  A large cannon was then placed at the top of the tower and fired at the castle. The castle’s earthen wall and gate were destroyed easily. The real targets, however, were the towers and the inner citadel.

But the enemy also possessed artillery, as well as the newest small arms and gunpowder. The reconnaissance tower was pulverized or burned to the ground a number of times, only to be rebuilt and knocked flat again.

During this hard fighting, Hideyoshi's engineers filled in the moat and pressed in beneath the stone wall, while the sappers excavated tunnels to undermine the walls. This work continued without interruption day and night, never allowing the soldiers in the castle a moment to undo the damage. Such a strategy eventually brought about the fall of the castles. Because victory over the small castles at Shikata and Kanki had required such efforts, it looked as if the attack on the main castle at Miki might be even more difficult.

There was an elevated area called Mount Hirai, about half a league from Miki Castle. Hideyoshi set up his camp there and positioned eight thousand men in the surrounding area.

One day Nobutada visited Mount Hirai, and the two of them went out and observed the enemy's positions. To the south of the enemy were the mountains and hills connected to the mountain ranges of western Harima. To the north ran the Miki River. To the east were bamboo thickets, farmland, and scrub. Finally, a number of strongholds on the neighboring hills encircled the castle walls on three sides. These in turn centered around the main citadel, the second citadel, and yet a third enclosure.

"It makes you wonder if it can be taken quickly, Hideyoshi," said Nobutada, gazing the castle.

"I doubt seriously that it'll be taken easily. It's like a rotten tooth with a deep root.”

"A rotten tooth?" Nobutada unintentionally broke into a smile at Hideyoshi's image. Nobutada had been suffering from toothache for four or five days. Because of the swelling, his face was a little distorted. Now he held his cheek and couldn't help laughing at Hideyoshi's observation. The parallel of the unassailable Miki Castle and his rotten tooth was both amusing and painful.

'I see. Just like a rotten tooth. To pull it, you need patience."

"It may be only one tooth, but it offends the body in its entirety. Bessho Nagaharu makes our men suffer. It's not enough to say that he's like a rotten tooth. But if we give in to our irritation and try to subjugate the castle thoughtlessly, not only could the gums be damaged but it could be fatal to the patient."

'Well, what shall we do, then? What's your strategy?"

"This tooth's fate is clear. Let's just loosen the root naturally. What if we cut off the supply roads and then shake the tooth from time to time?"

"My father, Nobunaga, told me to withdraw to Gifu if the prospects were not good for a quick attack. You can take care of the delaying tactics and other arrangements; I'm returning to Gifu."

"Set your mind at ease, my lord."

The next day Nobutada withdrew from the battlefield in the company of the other generals. Hideyoshi disposed his eight thousand soldiers around Miki Castle, placing a corps commander at each position and erecting wooden palisades. He posted sentries and cut off all roads leading into the castle. Special emphasis was placed on the observation corps guarding the road to the south of the castle. If one followed the road about four leagues to the west, one would come out on the coast. The Mori navy often sent large convoys of ships to this point, and from here it transported weapons and provisions to the castle.

"The Eighth Month is so refreshing," Hideyoshi said, gazing up at the evening moon. "Ichimatsu! Hey, Ichimatsu!"

The pages came running out of the camp, each of them jockeying to arrive first. Ichimatsu was not among them. While the other pages took stances to outshine one another, Hideyoshi gave them their instructions.

"Prepare a mat at a spot on Mount Hirai with a commanding view. We're going to have a moon-viewing party tonight. Now don't fight among yourselves. This is a party, not a battle."

"Yes, my lord!"

"Toranosuke."

"My lord?"

"Ask Hanbei to join me if he feels well enough for moon viewing."

Two of the pages quickly returned and announced that they had prepared the mat. They had chosen a place near the summit of Mount Hirai, a short climb from the camp.

"A superb view, indeed," Hideyoshi commented. Then he once again turned to the pages and said, "Go ask Kanbei too. It would be a shame if he didn't see this moon." And he sent a page running to Kanbei's tent.

The moon-viewing platform had been set up under a huge pine tree. There was cold sake in a crane-necked flask, and food on a square cypress-wood tray. Although the set­ting was hardly luxurious, it was quite sufficient for a brief respite during a military cam­paign—especially with the shining moon overhead. The three men sat on the mat in a line, with Hideyoshi in the center and Hanbei and Kanbei on either side.

It was the same moon that the three men gazed up at, but it evoked completely dif­ferent thoughts in each of them. Hideyoshi thought about the fields of Nakamura; Han­bei remembered the magical moon over Mount Bodai; and only Kanbei thought about the days ahead.

"Are you cold, Hanbei?" Kanbei asked his friend, and Hideyoshi, perhaps from sud­den concern, also turned and looked at Hanbei.

"No, I'm fine." Hanbei shook his head; but just at that moment his face looked paler than the moon.

This talented man has frail health, Hideyoshi sighed without cheer. He worried about Hanbei's health far more than Hanbei himself did.

Once Hanbei had vomited blood while riding at Nagahama, and he had often been ill during the northern campaign. When they had started out this time, Hideyoshi had tried to stop his friend from coming, protesting that he was overstraining himself.

"What are you talking about?" Hanbei had replied lightly, and joined him in the field anyway.

It was reassuring to Hideyoshi to have Hanbei at his side. He was both a visible and an invisible strength—the relationship was one of lord and retainer, but in his heart Hideyoshi looked up to Hanbei as a teacher. Now, especially, he was faced with the difficult task of the western campaign, the war was dragging on, and many of his fellow generals were envious of him. He was approaching the steepest climb of life, and his reliance on Hanbei was all the more critical.

But Hanbei had already fallen ill twice since they had entered the western provinces. Hideyoshi had been so worried that he had ordered Hanbei to see a doctor in Kyoto. Hanbei, however, had quickly returned.

"I've been ill since my birth, so I'm used to infirmity. Medical treatment would be useless in my case. A warrior's life is on the battlefield." With that, he worked at staff headquarters as diligently as before, without the least sign of fatigue. His weak constitution, however, was a grim fact, and there was no way to beat the disease, regardless of how strong his spirit might be.

Heavy rain had poured down on them when the army moved from Tajima. Possibly because of the excesses of that trip, Hanbei had pleaded ill health and did not show his face to Hideyoshi for two days after they set up camp at Mount Hirai. It was normal for Hanbei not to appear before Hideyoshi on days when he was very ill; he very likely did not want to give his lord cause for concern. But because Hanbei had looked fit during the past few days, Hideyoshi had thought they could sit together under the moon and talk as they had not been able to for a long time. But it was not just the light of the moon: as Hideyoshi had feared, there was something not quite right in Hanbei's complexion.

When he sensed Hideyoshi's and Kanbei's concern, Hanbei purposely steered the conversation in another direction.

"Kanbei, according to the news I received yesterday from a retainer in my home province, your son, Shojumaru, is quite healthy and has finally gotten used to his new surroundings."

"Because Shojumaru is in your home province, Hanbei, I have no worries. I hardly ever think about it."

The two of them spoke about Kanbei's son for a little while. Hideyoshi, who still had no children of his own, could not help feeling a little envious as he listened to this talk between fathers. Shojumaru was Kanbei's heir, but when Kanbei had realized what the future held, he had entrusted his son to Nobunaga as a pledge of good faith.

The young hostage had been put into of Hanbei's care, who had sent him to his castle in Fuwa and was raising him as though he were his own son. Thus, with Hideyoshi as the linchpin of their relationship, Kanbei and Hanbei were also bound by ties of friendship.  And while they were rivals as generals, there was not the least bit of jealousy between them. The saying that "two great men cannot stand side by side" was hardly applicable in Hideyoshi's field headquarters.

Looking at the moon, drinking sake, and talking about the great men of past and present, and the rise and fall of provinces and clans, it seemed that Hanbei managed to forget his illness.

Kanbei, however, returned to the subject. "Even if a man leads a great army in the morning, he doesn't know whether he'll be alive in the evening. But if you hold some great ambition—no matter how great a man you are—you must live a long time to bring it to fruition. There have been many glorious heroes and loyal retainers who left their names to eternity and whose lives were short, but what if they had lived a long time? It's only natural to feel regret about the shortness of life. The destruction that goes with pushing aside the old and striking at evil is not the only work of a great man. His work is not accomplished until he has rebuilt the nation."

Hideyoshi nodded vigorously. He then said to the silent Hanbei, "That's why we must cherish our lives. I'd like you to take care of your health for those reasons, too, Hanbei."

"I feel the same way," Kanbei added. "Rather than push yourself to excess, why don't you retire to a temple in Kyoto, find a good doctor, and take care of yourself? I suggest this as a friend, and I think you could say that it would be an act of loyalty to give our lord peace of mind."