The Shogun Tokimune was a boy of eighteen who excelled in the samurai military arts, particularly archery on horseback. It was said that his concentration was so perfect that he could hit a target without even looking at it while riding a galloping horse. This he did at an archery contest of the best samurai in the country when he was ten.
The most often-told about him was this: he was summoned to an archery contest held by the previous Shogun when he was ten years old.
No samurai who had participated in the most difficult event, the toya or "long-distance shoot" had ever won. (The contest was shooting at the smallest target at the greatest distance from the back of a galloping horse.)
The Shogun asked if anyone could compete successfully in the event. Tokimune's father replied that his son was a skilled archer and sent a messenger to the boy who was playing at home in the garden.
Tokimune got his bow and quiver of arrows, mounted and rode to the athletic field. He rode into the view of the Shogun and all the assembled spectators at a full gallop. He reined in his horse, saluted the Shogun, then resumed galloping to the mark where he was to begin the shoot.
Urging the horse to a gallop, the boy dropped the reins and let an arrow fly at the target. He never broke his gallop and never looked back. The arrow stuck in the bull's eye.
The crowd was roaring but the boy had rode out of the athletic field, returned home and had went back to being a child playing in the garden. Now eight years later, that boy was the ruler of Japan. The Emperor in Kyoto was merely a figurehead.
The most important things in the Shogun's life were discipline and cultivation--his training in bushido, the skills of a warrior, the zen cultivation of his mind with meditation, and his reverence for Shinto, the native Japanese religion, the essence of his Japaneseness, the expression of his understanding of nature.
This was Khubilai's adversary. The Mongol Army had always been lucky in its enemies. Most of them were unprepared and many times, their countries were in a state of weakness, internal conflict or disarray when the Mongol Army made its appearance.
This was one of the few times the Mongols went up against a military nation that was as strong in its mental attitude and defenses as itself. It is my belief that we would have won them, had we not had the water to contend with.
The arrival of the Mongols was no surprise to Tokimune. Only the timing of a Mongol invasion had been in question. After all, he had insulted Khubilai Khan.
Khubilai's envoys arrived. Tokimune ordered that they be sent away with no answer.
He told his top samurai that the barbarians would be fools to attack him by sea. He had the safety of his island nation. As a precaution, he ordered all governors of Western prefectures to prepare to defend their coasts.
His word was law throughout Japan and the coastal towns were fortified.
Tokimune knew about the occupation of Koguryo by 10,000 Mongol troops. The northern barbarians were living off the Korean peasants.
Japanese spies living in the country kept the Shogun informed about the progress of the Yuan preparations for war. They had cut down every tree of size in Korea for shipbuilding. They had conscripted much of the year's production of rice. They had conscripted troops and trained them.
The Shogun waited for word of the invasion in his wooden palace in the Japanese capital of Kamakura. The palace was a villa that had tatami floors, brushwork paintings and works of pottery and lacquer with very little furnishing. An arrangement of summer flowers, dahlias, his favorite, with pine stood in the tokonoma, the alcove, beside a brush and ink painting done by a Zen master.
The long scroll was bordered in gold silk brocade. The painting, executed in dynamic brushstrokes, in deep black ink, was a portrait of the Zen master Bodhidharma sitting in contemplation. In the upper right hand corner of the painting, the painter had written a poem in grass-style calligraphy with the brush running.
On the low black lacquer table in front of the Shogun, were sake cups with a matching ewer, ceramic, an example of natural simplicity.
As he drank his sake, Tokimune appreciated the cup. He was a devotee of the tea ceremony. He knew that the object of the masters was to create a naturalness which seemed untutored as though a small child had made a cup or bowl for the first time.
The rough shapes showed the master potter's understanding of childish artlessness in the highest artistic expression. This was the influence of Zen on the samurai class.
The girl slid open the fusuma screen then closed it behind her and crossed the room to sit beside him.
Her immaculate white tabi socks made a swish-swishing noise on the tatami floor. Her kimono was decorated with dahlias and fans, reds yellows and greens, summer colors. She wore a perfume which wafted for some moments on the air and then vanished like the fragrance of the Himalayan lilies which had been planted in one of his gardens. Her thick black hair was caught up in lacquer ornaments, swept up from the nape of her neck and lacquered into waves that reminded him of the sea which he could smell, since his palace was built beside the shore of Kamakura.
Two other courtesans came into the room and began to pluck the first strains of the music which would accompany Miyoko's dance. Miyoko opened up a silver fan and stamped her tiny foot. Then she began her dance, following the movements of the fan in front of her. Her movements were so graceful that he was mesmerized. Her songs were so sad that his eyes were brimming with tears.
When the dance was finished and the sake had taken its effect, Miyoko bowed and left the room.
***
A Yuan Imperial Guardsman arrived at the palace of Koguryo bringing a message from the Emperor Khubilai Khan.
King Chong was in the garden, keeping company with me and our young son. The boy was running after a little dog, playing with a ball.
The Guardsman read a stinging letter full of reprimands because the embassy sent to demand tribute of Japan had failed.
Khubilai Khan ordered the King to transport his Envoys on a second embassy to Japan.
King Chong was exasperated. "I predicted the type of reception his embassy would receive and tried to dissuade him from sending it. I know the Japanese better than your father. They are my neighbors across the Straits of Korea. Your father is my friend, we are family, but he forgets that I have had to deal with the Shogun over the pirates, the wako, for years. They are 100 miles across the Straits. They continually raid my coasts and terrify the populace of my country.”
My family life has been a success. My marriage was a success. I sympathized with my husband.
“What can I say? My father does not like to be reminded of his errors. He has a point.”
She waited for her husband to come around to her point of view, but he was adamant.
“He does not have a point. He Is deaf, dumb and blind. He refuses to listen to reason. Why can't you admit that I know more about this than he does?
'My father, the king before me, tried to reason with the pirates. The pirates ignored his pleas and continued their raids on towns, villages and small seafaring communities along the coast.
"I personally reported to the Shogun that pirates were marauding my coast, 100 miles across the straits. Nothing changed. The pirates knew that the Shogun would do nothing.”
The Queen did not have an answer for her husband's fury. For once she was at a loss for words. "I did not know that. Didn't you tell me that Tokimune responded to your pleas?”
“Yes, I told you. But the Shogun's attempts to restrain the wako have failed.
"The Japanese are militarists. They are full of samurai pride.
"Minister Liu agrees with me. He told me the reason for your father's stubbornness+- The Japanese are the only military culture the Mongols have ever encountered."
The Queen possessed intelligence. She got the point. "Tokimune is a living symbol of the Japanese warrior class--he is samurai.”
" Finally, I get a point across."
The Queen tried to calm her husband down.
Her words came out in a torrent. “My father has a blind spot. I know that."
The King exhaled a sigh of relief. "He thinks the Confucians will not believe he has the Mandate of Heaven unless the Japanese submit."
The Queen said, "Are you saying it's all in his mind?'
“Even a great man may have a crippling flaw. The Emperor harbors a doubt that he is a legal ruler. Every time there is a crisis, this doubt arises. This is nonsense. He should get over it."
"You're right. You are an excellent judge of character. I am impressed."
The King said he was afraid that if she continued to oppose him, their marriage would fail. He did not want that to happen.
The Queen said that she shared his feelings.
"So hear me. Your father feels responsible because the Empire is breaking up. If the Japanese submit, it, proves something to him. I want to say something to you. Please don't be offended."
“I will not take it as an offense.”
"Tokimune deeply admires the culture of Song. He has a feeling of contempt for the uncultured barbarians who rule North China. He thinks you stole the country. He calls you 'robbers.'"
“I am aware of that.”
“ I am paying a price because I did things the way your father wanted things done. This crisis would have gone better if my court was still Confucian. The officials of both our countries would be of the same school of thought and have easier communications. Your Mongol court changed the conduct of the court. The Shogun thinks I have been ruined by barbarian influence..”
“By your barbarian wife?”
“I didn’t say that.”
The Queen had heard enough. Some of her old bravado returned."I did my filial duty. I carried out my father's wishes. That is Confucian, not barbarian.”
“Yes, it is. There is more at stake here than simple family loyalties. There are two countries and their populations. We must see to their welfare.”
The Queen smiled." I completely agree with you. I have nothing more to say. We find ourselves in a unique situation."
The King embraced his wife. "At last we are the same side of the argument.'
"I don’t want your father to come between us."
" Good. I have a suggestion. I need your help. You know how to reach the Emperor.. He has a soft spot for you.”
“That is true,” she said.
“ Let us inform the emperor of intelligence that I recently acquired. You know he has a fun. This for information. I learned something ,that he does not know."
" What are you talking sbout?"
"Japanese monks often study Buddhism in China. The Zen monks are treated badly by the Mongols, who patronized Tibetan Buddhism.
"The Shogun's teacher, Bukku, was sentenced to death by the Mongols. When he was led into the courtyard and prepared for beheading, he emitted a defiant shout and chanted a poem, a Zen act showing his fearlessness.
"The Mongols were so impressed with his utter disregard for death that they let Bukku go.
"This act of generosity was a mistake on the part of the Mongols. Bukku returned to Japan an avowed enemy of Khubilai Khan.
"He frequently sends monks to be guests in his temples but they are actually spies. The Shogun is continually informed of events at Khubilai's court. You must speak to your father in private. He will see that I am a loyal son-in-law and have his interests at heart. I do not want him to hate me just because I oppose the invasion."
“I will.”
Jinguk traveled to Xanadu with a small royal procession. I did not say that I was coming on a diplomatic mission sent by my husband. I said that I was bringing my son to visit his grandparents, the Emperor and the Empress.
She could not convince the Khan. The second embassy sailed by his order.
The flotilla of five vessels sailed across the Straits of Korea in good weather. The cobalt blue seas were calm. The beamy wooden vessels had short rudders, square-riggings and were shallow-drafted. High on the masts, the riggings creaked and groaned, and the sails billowed in the salt wind.
The ships were Korean and a Korean crew navigated the trim craft across the straits that separated Korea and Japan.
On this crossing, Korean diplomats and interpreters accompanied the two Mongol Envoys and a retinue of Mongol soldiers.
The senior Mongol diplomat, Egsen, had fought on the first campaign in Southwest China with Khubilai and Bayan. On that campaign, Egsen and had forded a river on a sheepskin raft. That was the sum total of his experience of naval warfare and that had been a decade and a half ago.
The mate, to entertain the Korean diplomats, told tales of Japanese pirates which the Korean interpreters repeated in Mongolian.
The Mongol Envoys looked at the diplomats sitting completely at ease on the deck chatting with the Korean deck hands. This did not make the Mongols like the sea voyage any better. The Koreans kept their distance because the Mongol contingent reeked of the sour smell of sweat and meat because t6hey rarely if ever bathed. The Mongols spent the voyage clinging to the railings, leaning over the side with their sides heaving in time to the roll and pitch of the sea. Though they were silent about it, the Korean diplomats exacted a small revenge for past crimes of the Mongols against Korea.
A shout went up from the front of the boat. Korean sailors pointed across the water. The lookout had sighted land. Japan was directly in front of them. They would make landfall in two hours.
They had been on the same voyage the first time they had been sent with a message for the Japanese. That time, they had had to turn back because of a winter storm. Both Mongol envoys had vowed never to get on a boat again, yet they were on board a war junk with the same damned Koreans crossing the same damned straits.
Summoning all their pride, one of the Mongols willed himself to get his sea legs. He stood, one fist wrapped around the deck rail for balance gulping rather than breathing in the salt air. He pulled down his tunic, wiped the back of his hand across his mouth and looked across the bright sea. There it was. The Japanese coastline off in the distance, its white sand beaches obscured by a low-hanging sea-fog. On a crest near the beach, a stand of pine trees poked out of the fog. Trees, thought the senior envoy, I have never been so glad in my life to see trees.
The junior Mongol envoy felt brave enough to lift his hand from the sea rail and slap Hampo, the Korean diplomat, who was small and slender. Hampo gave the orders to anchor the ships off the coast and put the dinghies over the side. Getting the Mongols down the rope ladders and aboard the rowboats which would take them ashore was swift for the Mongols were glad to get to land. They shimmied down the rope ladders.
Egsen dropped the last few feet into the dinghy rocking the little rowboat with the two Korean oarsmen and the dinghy nearly capsized.
After much coaxing and splashing, the second Mongol heaved his weight over the side. The ambassadorial party made for the Japanese shore.
When they reached shallow water, the Korean sailors heaved the oars inside the boat and jumped into the cold surf. Wading ashore with the oarsman pulling the dinghy behind them, the Mongols asked what was on the beach. They pointed to large masses of the tangled leaves and bladders of kelp which had been left by the outgoing tide. The kelp was curing on the beach with salt drying into it, the plant gave the air a briny smell.
"Kombu," said one of the Korean sailors. "Kelp. Good to eat. Make soup with it."
"Green slime. I wouldn't eat it," said Egsen. The Mongols were famously wide eaters and known to eat raw meat. Insulting the first evidence of culture made him feel much more in control than he had been pitching and rolling on the deck heaving his guts out.
"No. No. Very delicious," said the Korean interpreter. "Good for you, too. Healthy."
Finally ashore, the Mongol Envoys stood on white sand beaches.
Six Japanese soldiers in grey kimonos, armed with two swords, one long and one short, approached the landing party. They were samurai attached to the local military governor.
The samurai had frozen expressions on their faces and cold steel in their eyes. Highly trained, highly disciplined, any one of them would cut off the head of an insolent foreigner as soon as look at him.
From behind the samurai, the Defense Commissioner of the West appeared. The Commissioner was short, but had powerfully built shoulders. He wore swords and a short knife thrust into his obi. He walked with a clumsy gait. The crown of his head was shaved and he wore the top-knot of the Japanese warrior class.
He stepped forward and spoke to the Korean interpreters. He said he had made a special trip from his office in Daizaifu to meet the Embassy from China in person.
The Korean introduced the Mongol Embassy to the Governor who bowed but did not express surprise that the Mongols failed to return the ritual courtesy.
The Defense Commissioner regarded the men who stood before him. He was appalled at the filth of their uniforms and their complete lack of manners. They identified themselves by offering their paizi, badges of authority. They announced, through their interpreters, that they had come on a mission from the Emperor of China and wished to speak to the King of Japan.
"We have letters from the King of Korea and the Emperor of China which must be delivered to the King of Japan."
That was the title they used. King. It was an insult. The comparison between the splendid title of Emperor of China and the lesser title of King of Japan was not lost on the Commissioner.
The Governor said, "I will present your letters to the Shogun. He is the military ruler of the country. This is our policy: all foreign envoys will be received here on the island of Kyushu.
“I will examine your credentials. If everything is in order, I will refer your documents to the Shogun who resides in Kamakura. That is where the government of Japan resides. If the matter is deemed important, the Shogun will forward your documents to the Emperor and the Court which reside in Kyoto. Under no circumstances does a foreign embassy enter Japan. You will remain here and wait for a reply.” For good measure, the governor said to the interpreter, “Explain that to these stinking barbarians."
The interpreter conveyed the message to Egsen, who protested. "These letters are addressed to the Emperor. . ."
The Governor replied, "All messages for the Emperor go through the Shogun. If the Shogun thinks your message deserved the attention of his majesty, he informs Kyoto."
My interpreter explained and Egsen gestured his agreement.
The Korean interpreter bowed to the Defense Commissioner and conveyed a polite response, "We would like to wait for the Emperor's reply." The effort of dealing with two intransigent parties was wearying.
The Commissioner said, “We will arrange for your quarters.”
The Defense Commissioner gave orders for the barbarian embassy to be quartered in a local ryokan, an inn, not a first class inn with good baths and excellent cuisine, but a second-class inn.
The Commissioner thought that the barbarians would not know the difference. Any place on the island of Kyushu would be a step up for them. The Defense Commissioner intended to let the Mongols sit and wait, eating Japanese food and taking Japanese baths in the hopes that they might learn how civilized people behaved.
At the inn on the coast, Kyoko, the head maid, was terrified at the sight of the barbarians accompanied by Koreans, who were at least clean and bathed, but she was obliged to serve them anyway.
Now that she was a grandmother with three gray hairs and sagging breasts, she had little to fear from the barbarians. She was obliged to offer hospitality. If she did not, the Defense Commissioner of the West would have her whole family beheaded.
Kyoko walked through the narrow streets lined with wooden houses, past the sea wall and down to the fishing boats to buy tuna to serve the barbarians.
Meanwhile, the three other women who worked in the inn prepared the rooms and offered the monsters steaming hot baths which from the smell of them they needed.
She had offered to wash their uniforms but they had declined. One of the women, Kazuko, had told her that the biggest barbarian had refused a bath. They had already eaten one dinner, enough to fill two Japanese men, but they were demanding more food. They had sent back the platter of fresh sashimi and sushi and demanded that the fish be cooked. What was she to do? She had to comply with their wishes.
The letter was an ultimatum. Khubilai lectured the Japanese Emperor that it was a fact of history that small countries of necessity were vassals of large countries. Khubilai Khan then announced that he had the Mandate of Heaven. He had even forgiven Korea for her formerly rebellious attitude and cherished that country under the mantle of his benevolence and compassion.
For six hundred years, Japan had been a vassal of China. It was a breach of duty and friendship for Japan not to attend the Chinese Emperor and present tribute. If Japan did not behave as a good nephew and family member to the Khagan, there would be war.
The Shogun finished reading. He ordered his bodyguard to summon the Prime Minister and handed over the letters. The Prime Minister and read. He said,"It is impossible for the barbarian Emperor cannot go to war with us. They are a nation of horsemen. Japan is surrounded by seas."
Tokimune said, "These are not proper letters of state. As a matter of policy, I cannot reply to such insolence. Send these letters to Kyoto and deliver them to the Emperor. Let us hope that my weak-willed older brother, Tokisuke, who has the Emperor's ear, will not give bad advice."
Tokimune's elder brother had been passed over as Shogun and now, served at court in Kyoto. Tokimune could not count on his brother's support. His brother hated him because Tokimune had been made Shogun.
The Emperor Kameyama, the ninetieth descendant of the Sun Goddess, Amaterasu, waited in receiving rooms which opened out onto his gardens.
The Shogun's elder brother, the head of the Privy Council, Tokisuke, was kneeling in ceremonial fashion, on a silk cushion.
The Emperor read the letters from the King of Korea and Khubilai Khagan. The Emperor disliked the Mongol Khan's threat of war. Japan had had good relations with Korea until the Mongols occupied Korea.
The Emperor asked for the advice of his court. Lord Tokisuke spoke. "The willow tree lives long because it bends to the wind, your highness," he said. "I say we should accept their suzerainty and pay tribute."
The Emperor closed his eyes and thought a moment. Then he spoke. "Please advise the Shogun that I wish to pay tribute."
Tokisuke sent a messenger to his brother in Kamakura stating the Emperor's wishes. His younger brother the Shogun would be furious because the younger brother would want to challenge the Mongols to war.
* * * * *
In the prayer hall of the Shoden Temple in Kyoto, Buddhist monks chanted prayers, and struck gongs, bells and drums.
The monks were summoning the Buddhas to protect Japan and to prevent the Emperor's letter from reaching Khubilai Khan.
The Chief Priest of the Shoden Temple thought the Emperor's answer to the Mongol Emperor was a humiliation to Japan.
Since his temple was in Kyoto and since the Chief Priest did not wish to arouse the anger of the Court and thus have the Court's generous donations to his temple cease, he prayed and meditated.
All the prayers had one purpose: to ask the Buddhas to destroy a Mongol invasion.
Day and night, the incessant droning of three hundred monks of the temple chanting sutras left the temple and floated up and out and over the river, over the city bounced off the ring of hills which surrounded Kyoto.
The Emperor and his Shinto priests, consecrated to the Sun Goddess, offered prayers at the sacred imperial shrine. Shinto was the native religion of Japan.
The priests, in their tall black hats and white kimonos, brushed the floors, railings and stairways of the shrine with rice straw brooms and uttered incantations to rid the palace of any devils and dark spirits.
When the exorcism was finished, the Emperor gave the priests his blessing and urged them to depart to the most sacred spot in Japan, the shrine at Ise, where the Sun Goddess first touched her foot when she descended to earth.
The highest priests of Shinto were to pray for the deliverance of Japan, so that the Land of the Gods would prevail against the foreign barbarian invader.
Inside the palace, the voices of the court women issued from their apartments in the imperial palace. From behind their painted screens, the elegant court ladies, their thick blue-black hair elaborately dressed and reaching to the ground, dressed in many layers of kimonos, gauze and heavy silk, had faces red and swollen from weeping.
* * * * *
At Daizaifu, where the Mongol envoys had been waiting for months, winter turned into spring, and spring into summer. The Yuan Guardsmen were sick of Japanese food and furious at the silence which had descended on the little inn ever since the letters had gone to Kamakura. Six months had passed and the Shogun had not sent a reply.
The senior envoy had grown bored watching as the employees of the inn went about their business. The envoy was sick of the diet of fish and rice, sea weeds and soup. What the envoy wanted was a good haunch of lamb and a gallon of koumiz.
The sake, rice wine, wasn't so bad now that he had gotten used to drinking hot alcohol.
Hampo entered the Envoy's room fresh from a bath, scrubbed and shining. "A messenger is coming."
"On horseback or walking?" asked Egsen.
"On horseback."
"Good. The quicker they get here, the quicker I can leave. Once the business is done, we can get back in those boats, cross the water, and get back to land where I can get a good Mongol horse under me."
The Shogun's men arrived to findthe employees, in fresh kimonos, lined up at the door. The inn had been scrubbed from one end to the other.
Egsen stood on the verandah. Hampo the Korean behind him. "What news, officer? You have an officer of Yuan waiting through the summer and the leaves on the trees are changing."
The Shogun's messenger delivered a two-sentence reply. "There is no message for Emperor of Yuan. His ambassador is to leave Japan at once. The Mongols would be forcibly deported if they did not leave Japan within forty-eight hours."
The messenger then put his hand on his killing sword, turned and left, knifing his way through the six samurai behind him. They bowed sharply and turned and left too.
After receiving the Emperor's message, Tokimune had persuaded the Emperor that to reply to such insolence was to play into the hands of the Robber from the North.
Hoping that the envoy would not lose his temper and slaughter all the employees of the inn, Hampo explained, "We are free to leave. The Shogun has no reply to the letter from Khubilai Khan."
* * * *
The envoy returned to Shangdu. A blanket of snow lay over the capital. Braziers filled with chips of aromatic wood warmed the Lesser Audience Hall where Khubilai Khan waited to receive them with members of the Central Secretariat.
Egsen, wearing his gold paizi, saluted and reported on the embassy. It had failed.
The Korean ambassador apologized to the Khagan.
"If you recall, my sovereign predicted this outcome, sir. My deepest regrets. At least no life was lost."
The Confucians assured the Khan that what the Korean King said was true.
The Chinese annals were full of stories about the long relationship between Japan and China, going back to the time the Japanese were still aborigines.
The Japanese imitated everything in Chinese culture, the writing, the literary style, the architecture, the religion, the philosophy, the sense of being at the center of the universe. They even took tea and tea cultivation from China and combining it with Buddhism which they had also received by way of China, made the tea ceremony, that most Japanese of institutions. The Japanese had become so Chinese that they believed themselves superior to all other nations on earth.
"Prepare an invasion. Send a message to King Chong."
The color drained from the Ambassador's face. "What shall I say to the King, sir?"
"Convey my greetings to him, my daughter, and our grandchild. Tell him that he will build ships for me and he will plant fields of rice to provide for my navy. He will contribute 1,000 ships, 4,000 bags of rice, and he will provide me with 40,000 troops."
Khubilai Khan retired from the Audience Hall, went to his apartments and had dinner with the Empress.
In less than ten years, Khubilai would be the same age as Chinggis Khan when he died. When Chinggis Khan was his age, he had waged war against the Khwarezm Shah and won. Khubilai Khan was getting old.
The Japanese Shogun was going to submit. The Khagan declared it to be so and he ruled with the Mandate of Heaven, by the Will of the Eternal Blue Sky, Koko Tengri, as the shamans called it.
In the palace of Koguryo, King Chong received the command. He knew that he had to comply. He told me, "Please remember that I tried to prevent this. There is one good outcome to these events."
"What is that," I asked.
"You support your husband instead of taking sides with your father. You have grown into the role of Queen."