The merchant couldn’t imagine his wife staying up late for him. Disgusted with his gambling, she had long since stopped waiting up for him like a dutiful wife, keeping the food and rice warm, to serve him upon his arrival.
As he approached his house, he noticed that some of the light was spilling out from a newly formed hole in the wall. Concerned, he quickened his steps to see what was going on.
“Tadaima! I’m home,” he announced as he slid back the sliding door of his house. He entered the small dirt entryway. The rest of the house was built on a wooden platform, above the ground, and the entry was a place to sit on the platform and take off his hemp sandals. Several heads spun around to look at him as he entered. The only person who didn’t react to his entry was the street entertainer he recently rented the upstairs room to. He sat serenely by a clay hibachi, sipping tea. Next to him was the merchant’s wife and his servant, apparently serving him. The merchant would have been upset by this special favor to the renter, if it wasn’t for the three others in the room.
The three sat with their legs splayed out in front of them in the space the merchant used as his shop when the weather was too bad to display the vegetables outside. They sat in a rough triangle, with their backs together. A length of sturdy hemp rope was wrapped and tied around them, securely keeping them in place.
He recognized them immediately. They were Boss Akinari’s men. Even with them tied securely, the merchant started to quake, and he sat at the edge of the house platform in weakness, temporarily too shaky to take off his sandals.
“How… how…?” he stammered.
The renter looked up from his tea. “How what?” he asked, in a tone that made it seem like it was unusual for the merchant to be stupefied by three men tied up in his house.
“What… what…?”
The renter sighed. “You really must complete a question if you expect us to answer it,” he said.
The merchant sucked in his breath through his teeth, a characteristic gesture when some Japanese are nervous. He said, “What are these men doing here?”
“They came to see you,” the renter said. He put down his teacup and stood up, holding his sword in one hand.
“Where are you going?” the merchant said quickly, a touch of fear in his voice.
“I’m going back to bed. These men came to see you. Now you are here. I suggest you talk to them, because they seem to be here on serious business.” Kaze turned and took a few steps up the stairs. He stopped. “Oh, I suggest you keep them tied until you have completed your discussions with them. You had better make sure that they’re happy with the result of your discussions, because they can play rough.”
“Hey! Samurai!” The big wrestler was addressing Kaze. Kaze thought briefly of denying he was a samurai and decided it would be a rather foolish denial after what he had done to the three toughs.
“What is it?” Kaze asked mildly.
“What’s your name?”
Kaze thought before answering that question, and decided to give the name he had used with the family.
“I’m Matsuyama Kaze.”
“I’m Nobu,” the wrestler said. “I work for Boss Akinari, the biggest gambling boss in this part of town. If you want a job fighting, come talk to me. We can use a man like you. A real fighter, not like these worthless ronin.” The big man gave a shake that moved the two ronin tied to him like dolls.
Because of his size, Kaze had assumed that the wrestler was the muscle for the two ronin. Now he understood that the big man was in charge. He reminded himself of the danger of assumptions, especially ones based on the appearance of people. It could kill you. He smiled. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he said.
Almost as if it were an explanation of why he had offered Kaze a job, Nobu said, “I’ve never been bested in a fight before.”
Kaze nodded, continuing his ascent of the stairs and leaving the merchant to work out an accommodation with the three men tied up on his floor.
In his room, Kaze allowed himself the indulgence of rubbing his ear. It was still hot from the blood rushing to it when the wrestler’s fist grazed it. Kaze had misjudged how much to move because the wrestler had such large hands.
When Kaze was young, he went into the mountains near his home and sought out a renowned Sensei, a teacher, to learn the ways of the sword. During his first lesson on how to avoid blows from the sword, Kaze had nimbly jumped to one side as the Sensei brought the bokken, the wooden practice sword, down in an overhead cut.
Kaze was proud of his ability to dodge the blow, but his Sensei scowled. The teacher held up the wooden sword so the edge was facing Kaze. “How wide is this sword?” he asked.
Kaze showed the width of the bokken by moving his thumb and forefinger a short distance apart.
“That’s right,” the Sensei said. “How far did you jump?”
Kaze put his two hands apart to show the distance.
The Sensei said no more, but Kaze understood the lesson. Economy of movement and judgment were as important as agility. Rubbing his ear, Kaze reflected that while swords were of a consistent width, he must remember that men’s fists were not.
CHAPTER 6
Plans woven like the
silk threads in a kimono.
Snags can rend the cloth
.
Tokugawa Ieyasu thought he had been chosen to lead by the will of the Gods, and there was little in his life to make him change that opinion. This did not mean that his life was without hardship. In fact, the exact opposite was true. But Ieyasu was fond of saying, “Persuade yourself that imperfection and inconvenience is the natural lot of mortals, and there will be no room for discontent or despair.”
This belief in his divine selection must have come later in his life, because his early years were not auspicious. He was born the son of a country daimyo who ruled the province of Mikawa. When he was four, he was sent as a hostage to an ally to guarantee his father’s good behavior. Unfortunately, during his journey, he was captured by his father’s bitter enemy and made a hostage under conditions that were both harsh and precarious. His captor even threatened to kill him if his father didn’t do what the captor demanded. But Ieyasu’s father risked the life of his son and ignored the threat. Ironically, the daimyo who had captured him was Oda Nobuhide, the father of Oda Nobunaga, a man Ieyasu was later to become strongly allied to. Two years later, Ieyasu was sent to his original destination, where he remained a hostage of the ally for an additional eleven years.
During his absence, the samurai of Mikawa had not fared much better than their young master, suffering many hardships that forced many of them to return to the soil, to work as farmers, just to survive. Thus, when Ieyasu finally returned to Mikawa, it was with a great deal of surprise that he learned that one of his retainers had preserved the bulk of the Mikawa treasury, because he knew the young Lord would need money to equip and outfit troops. Ieyasu was moved to tears by this gesture of loyalty. Because of the sacrifice that this hoarding of money represented, he adopted a maxim that waste was an affront to heaven.
His frugality did not extend to things military, however. Ieyasu’s men were always well equipped, and although their commissary was not lavish, when they were on a campaign they were always supplied with adequate food.
This willingness to spend money on military matters did not always guarantee victory. In fact, there were military defeats and at least one occasion when Ieyasu was preparing to kill himself rather than be captured. But circumstances, bold action on his part, and the hesitancy of his enemies kept Ieyasu alive. And as his long life progressed, he expanded his influence, power, and authority until he was able to seize control of all of Japan. To do this, he bided his time, first allying himself with Oda Nobunaga in his rise to power, then shifting his loyalties to Toyotomi Hideyoshi, Nobunaga’s successor.