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Overview
Throughout the twelfth century, two rival clans, the Minomoto and the Taira, struggled for supremacy in Imperial Japan. Each attempted a rebellion and, for a time, the Taira gained ascendancy. But their rule turned despotic and at last, during the Genpei War of 1179-1185, the Minomoto drove the Taira out of the capital and took control for themselves.
At the final battle of Dan-no-ura, the Taira-born child-emperor and his family all jumped into the Inland Sea to avoid capture and drowned. With them was lost the Imperial Sword, never to be seen again. The Minomoto leader took control, moved the capital, and became the first Shogun of Japan.
That much is history.
But wherefore come the tales of superhuman strength, the incredible insight, the clandestine knowledge of the Genpei War's heroes? There has been much speculation throughout the generations. Some have called the Minomoto's rise to power destiny, others call it a deal between humans and spirits-since even in death, the eternal Japanese warrior's spirit cannot be laid to rest. How much is truth, how much legend? One can never tell, for there are older, stranger tales as well....
At the Publisher's request, this title is being sold without Digital Rights Management Software (DRM) applied.
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9780765386359 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Tor Publishing Group |
| Publication date: | 07/07/2015 |
| Sold by: | Macmillan |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 448 |
| File size: | 2 MB |
About the Author
Read an Excerpt
Genpei
By Kara Dalkey
Tom Doherty Associates
Copyright © 2000 Kara DalkeyAll rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-0-7653-8635-9
CHAPTER 1
Scroll 1
Beginnings
The White Fish
Who can say when the seeds of a war are sown? Sometimes the roots of conflict grow for generations before the clash of steel upon steel is heard. Sometimes a war may be only a continuation of past battles, as one prayer bead follows another on a silken string. Sometimes conflict becomes as inevitable as rain in autumn. Sometimes a change in circumstances will bring about conflict where none might have been thought possible before. The Genpei War may be said to have been all of these.
Let us begin, then, on a chill spring morning, in the fourteenth year of the reign of Emperor Sutoku, in the second year of the era called Hoen. Taira no Kiyomori, stocky and strong at nineteen years of age, stood at the prow of his boat, sailing the waters of the Seto Inland Sea. Some legends say that on this day he was on a pilgrimage to the shrines on the sacred island called Miyajima. Some say he and his men were patrolling the waters of Aki Province searching for pirates. Perhaps he was doing both.
For as long as could be remembered, the Taira had been remarkable sailors and warriors of the coastal waters. Under the leadership of Tadamori, Kiyomori's father, the Taira achieved more glory by doing battle with the pirates who had been harassing the merchants and fishermen along the coast of the Inland Sea. So successful were the Taira in this endeavor that rewards were showered upon them by Shirakawa and the Emperors that followed, Horikawa, Toba, and Sutoku. By the time Kiyomori was twelve, he held the post of Assistant Commander for the Military Guards. By the time he was eighteen, Kiyomori was elevated to Fourth Rank, and thereby officially made a nobleman of the realm.
On this spring morning, as Kiyomori and his men neared Miyajima, the air was still, and no wind stirred the boat's sails. His men had to row the becalmed craft across the smooth waters. There were no other boats to be seen, not even those of fishermen, who normally would be numerous. Kiyomori felt some concern and wondered if rumors of new pirates in the area had kept the fishermen away.
"What do you make of this?" Kiyomori asked one of his men, who wore the shaved head and plain robe of a Buddhist monk.
"My lord, I am as baffled as you," said the monk. "I cannot think of any sign in the Heavens or significance in the calendar that would be keeping the fishermen home."
As he gazed toward the horizon, Kiyomori saw something else that brought him unease. At first he thought it only a trick of his eyes — but a thick fog was rising from the waters, like steam from a hot bath on a winter's day. Denser and denser the fog became, swiftly obscuring their view, until Kiyomori and his men could scarcely see beyond the blades of their oars. Their ship seemed an island itself adrift in a world of gray.
"This becomes stranger every moment, neh?" Kiyomori commented to one of his men. "Normally a morning fog is melted away by the westering sun, not summoned by it." He sniffed the air, but there was no taint of ashes, so this was no smoke from a fire. The mist was rich with the brine scent of the sea.
"My lord, perhaps we should wait a while," suggested one of the rowers. "We cannot find our way in this fog, and we have no wish to run your boat aground. If this is any natural mist, it will lift in time, and we can proceed safely."
"If this is any natural mist," repeated Kiyomori, with a feeling in his bones that it was not. The Inland Sea was the realm of many mysterious things, including, it was said, the undersea palace of the Dragon King Ryujin. Kiyomori could not help but wonder if he or his family had done something to offend the kami of the sea. Or perhaps this fog was a whim of the gods he had merely blundered into, through no fault of his or his clan.
Kiyomori took up a handful of the rice cakes they carried for provender. He broke them apart and scattered the pieces onto the metal-gray waters, murmuring to the kami who reside there, "If I, or my own, have offended, forgive us. If not, and if this mysterious weather is the work of gods or demons who are bent on mischief, please aid us."
Huge fishes rose from the depths to suck the rice into their enormous gaping mouths, but Kiyomori could not tell what manner of fish they were. The boat rocked in the gentle swells of the sea, and the only sound was the lapping of the water at its flanks.
Suddenly, a great white bass leapt out of the water and landed on the deck of the boat. The big fish flopped about madly, and one of the rowers had to strike it on the head with an oar to subdue it. As the white bass lay still, gasping its last breaths, Kiyomori and the monk approached it.
"This is most remarkable," said Kiyomori.
"Surely it is a sign of the kami's favor," said the monk. "Though it violates the Ten Prohibitions, I believe we should eat this fish as soon as possible, and partake of the good fortune it will provide us."
"Yes," said Kiyomori, "I have heard of such events as this. Is it not said that, long ago, a white fish leapt into the boat of King Wu of Zhou?"
"My lord," said one of the rowers, "a sail."
Kiyomori peered through the mist. He saw what seemed to be a red sail, not too far away.
"Know you any fishermen in this region," Kiyomori asked, "who has such a sail on his boat?"
"No, my lord," said the rower. "And no merchant ship would be so foolish as to announce his presence so when there are pirates about."
"And might a pirate have such a sail?" Kiyomori asked.
"It would be a bold or mad pirate indeed, my lord, to have such an attention-catching sail when it is known the mighty Taira patrol these waters."
Kiyomori smiled. "Then let us row toward that sail," he told his men, "and see who this bold or foolish personage might be."
"My lord," cautioned one of the rowers, "there is danger that we might collide with the other boat, for we cannot see its speed or location clearly."
"Then you must row very carefully, neh? Begin. I will watch the sail and guide you."
So the rowers took up their oars once more and began to pull against the gray waters of the Inland Sea. Kiyomori told them when to steer to the right or left and when to feather their oars and drift. Closer and closer they came to the red sail. Then suddenly the mist between the two boats parted, as if blown aside by a kami's breath.
What Kiyomori saw nearly took his own breath away. The red sail belonged to a little boat in the shape of a dragon whose scales were made of pearly iridescent shell. The silken sail was adorned with the crest of a coiled white serpent. Sitting in the boat were three beautiful ladies, dressed in the many-layered kimonos of the nobility of Heian Kyo, whose colors reflected the blues, greens, and grays of the sea. Kiyomori wondered how such ladies might have come to be here so far from land, although he was old enough to know that women often had fancies unfathomable to men. "Good morning, most noble ladies," he said, bowing to them.
"Hail, Assistant Commander Taira no Kiyomori," said one.
"Hail, Lord Governor to come," said another.
"Hail, Chancellor yet to be," said the third.
Kiyomori stepped back in astonishment, rocking his ship. "Surely you ladies are joking at my expense. Governor of a province someday, perhaps, should I prove myself worthy of it to the court. But Chancellor? Only those of the great Fujiwara clan, or of Imperial blood, ever rise so high. I am but of the lowly Taira. We are warriors, not governmental officials. Why do you mock me thus?"
The loveliest of the ladies smiled at him. "We do not mock you, Lord Kiyomori."
"Perhaps he truly does not know," whispered one of the other ladies.
"Does not know what?" demanded Kiyomori. "What do I not know?"
"That you are of Imperial blood," said the loveliest lady.
Kiyomori scowled. "You are repeating treasonous gossip. My father is Tadamori, Chief of the Taira clan. He is the only father I have known."
"Truly, it was he who raised you. But your mother —"
"Yes, she had been an Emperor's consort. She never let my father forget that."
"And she was with child when she was given to your father for services he had rendered to Emperor Shirakawa. That child was you."
"And it was that Emperor," said the lady to her left, "who gave you your name, in hopes that it would bring to you the limitless prosperity that your name implies."
Kiyomori felt a shiver run down his spine. Of course he had heard the whispered gossip. Naturally, as a boy, he had wanted to believe he was a secret prince of the Imperial line. But when he had traveled to Heian Kyo with his father and seen how the nobles sneered at him and Tadamori, claiming such provincial warriors were no better than servants, he realized the gossip was only meant to slander his father. "How can I possibly believe you?"
The beautiful woman blinked. "What may I do to make you believe?" She stroked the water with her hand and tiny winged women in pale gauze kimonos, their lower halves tucked into snail shells, rose fluttering into the air. They sang with sweet, piping voices for a moment, then plopped back beneath the surface.
Kiyomori gasped. "You, then ... can it be that you are ... Benzaiten, mistress of art and music and daughter of the Dragon King?"
Her smile grew wider. "At last you recognize me. I am pleased."
He bowed again, much lower this time. "How can I not know you, to whom my family prays so often for good fortune upon the sea? The white fish, then, came from you?"
"It is a gift to you from my father, Ryujin. Eat of it and good fortune shall be yours. So you understand, if we say you may one day become Chancellor, then it may indeed be so?"
"Of ... of course, Great Lady." Kiyomori's mind reeled, trying to accept this new view of things. A vision of who he was, and what his future might be. "But why do you so favor me by telling me of my destiny? Why here and now?"
Benzaiten flirtatiously stroked the surface of the sea with her fingertips, letting her long sleeves float upon the water like seaweed. "Your prowess upon the sea is well-known, Lord Kiyomori, even to those in the court of the Dragon King. We have watched you from below, and we are impressed."
Kiyomori inclined his head to her. "I am pleased to have been noticed by one so illustrious as your father."
"And we have noted that your clan has ... ambition."
"Naturally, as has every clan in the Empire, Great Lady. We all strive to climb as high as we can. That is the way of things. But the power of the Fujiwara clan is like a great wall against which other men only bloody themselves in striving for rank and position."
"Even such a wall as theirs may have cracks, Lord Kiyomori. The Fujiwara are like a wall of old stone, too long set in place without repair. They are masters of form and manners, but have forgotten the meaning of it. They sit in their precious capital and think it is the whole world, forgetting the countryside that surrounds them. And we fear they are forgetting the honor due to us as they chant sutras to their beloved bosatsu and Buddhas."
Benzaiten stirred the water more forcefully with her fingers. "My father has forseen dark days ahead. But he has grown fond of mortal humanity and wishes to ease its passage through the turbulent times to come. My father seeks the right man to captain the Empire, to steer it safely past the maelstroms of fate that await it. He believes you may well be that man, Lord Kiyomori."
Realizing that he was being offered a chance rarely given, and that his newfound heritage proved him worthy, Kiyomori felt a great pride and ambition fill him. "Then your father has chosen wisely, great Benzaiten. Tell me what I must do, how might I find this crack and achieve the fate you see for me."
"We will give you our aid, if you will promise, once power is yours, to build for me on the sacred island of Miyajima the greatest shrine the Empire has yet seen. Then you shall have my favor, and that of my father, the Dragon King. Do this, become our champion, and with your skill, courage, and wisdom we will see that your clan achieves great glory and that your name is remembered throughout the ages to come."
"Glory," Kiyomori whispered, as though speaking to a lover. "You will have your shrine on Miyajima, Great Lady. The grandest the Empire has ever seen. I swear this to you."
"Very good. And you shall take this color" — she gestured toward the red sail — "as the color of your clan's standard in battle, for battles there will be, Lord Kiyomori, great and terrible ones. But you will prevail, if you will but follow our advice."
Kiyomori gripped the railing of the boat so hard that it nearly splintered in his hands. "I will do as you ask, Great Lady. Everything."
"Your fervor impresses me, Kiyomori-san. You will receive more messages from us soon. I eagerly await the day I will see my shrine. Until that happy time, farewell." The red sail suddenly billowed with an unseen wind. The dragon boat with its three lady passengers sailed away into the mist and vanished.
Kiyomori turned to his men. "Have I just seen what I have seen and heard what I have heard?"
The men turned to him, wide-eyed. One of them said, "Indeed, my lord, that could only have been the kami Benzaiten herself! She is even lovelier than all the paintings I have ever seen of her. Our clan is truly fortunate, my lord, to receive her favor, as well as that of the great Dragon King."
The fog that was all around them melted away faster than the last snowfall of spring, revealing the wide-open sea once more. The sacred island of Miyajima could be seen on the southeastern horizon. A gentle breeze arose and billowed the sails of the ship. "Let us eat this gift, the white fish," said Kiyomori. "And dream on the great things to come. And then let us sail on to the shrines of Miyajima to honor the kami who have blessed us with this vision."
A Path of Dragon Lights
It was late afternoon when Kiyomori's boat at last came alongside the tiny dock at the sacred island of Miyajima. They had found no pirates that day. Perhaps it was just as well, for Kiyomori had been distracted by the prophecies of Benzaiten and the glory they promised, so much so that he could hardly think clearly.
Three Shinto priests in black caps and white robes were coming down the steep mountain path to the shore. They looked up in astonishment and concern when they saw a boat full of armored warriors tying up at their dock.
"Do not fear, Holy Ones!" shouted Kiyomori as he jumped into the shallow water and strode up the rocky shore. "I am Taira no Kiyomori, Assistant Commander of the Military Guards. I have this day received a vision of the kami Benzaiten, and I come to this, her sacred island, for offering and contemplation. She has directed me to one day build a great shrine for her here, and I wish to study the site on which I will build."
The priests' eyes opened wide, and they bowed low to him. "Then you are most welcome to Miyajima and our shrines, Kiyomori-san. Your fame is well-known even on these humble shores. We ask only that you disturb no rock nor living creature while you are here, and that you do not spend the night, for even we do not stay upon the island, but have our homes elsewhere. For by night, the island belongs to the kami, and no mortal may disturb it."
"It shall be so," said Kiyomori, inclining his head to them. "Wait here, on the boat, for me," he directed his men. "I must walk and think a while."
He saw the warriors mutter concerned words among themselves. It was getting late, and no sailor liked to navigate the Inland Sea by night, for the myriad tiny islands and rocks made the sailing treacherous. But Kiyomori knew his men well — their skill on the sea was matchless, and they would obey him bravely.
The three priests got into their little rowboat and rowed away with cries of farewell. Kiyomori first walked up the steep hill path to the shrines of the daughters of the Dragon King. His family had come to visit these shrines before, and he remembered being there as a child once. But the memory was faint, and now he saw the shrines with wiser eyes.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from Genpei by Kara Dalkey. Copyright © 2000 Kara Dalkey. Excerpted by permission of Tom Doherty Associates.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Table of Contents
Contents
Cover,Title Page,
Copyright Notice,
Dedication,
Author's Note,
Family Trees,
Prologue,
Scroll 1: Beginnings,
Scroll 2: Hogen and Heiji,
Scroll 3: Genpei,
Epilogue,
About the Author,
Other Tor Books by Kara Dalkey,
Newsletter Sign-up,
Copyright,