Wiping the sweat from his eyes with his gauntlet, Nobunaga said to his pages, "A moment like this won't come again. Go down to the river and see what you can do."
Ranmaru and the others—even the youngest—all ran at the enemy, each one vying to be first. The Tokugawa, who had pushed in so deeply, were quite definitely in trouble, but in this game of battlefield chess, the astute Ieyasu was the one piece that had been placed on the vital point.
Nobunaga is not likely to let this one piece die, Ieyasu told himself. Ittetsu's men followed Hideyoshi's. Finally, Ikeda Shonyu's men poured in. Suddenly the tide of the battle had changed, and the Oda were winning. Asakura Kagetake's forces retreated more than three leagues, and Asai Nagamasa's forces fled hurriedly toward Odani Castle.
From that point on, it was a battle of pursuit. The Asakura were chased to Mount Oyose, and Asai Nagamasa retreated behind the walls of Odani Castle. Nobunaga dealt with the aftermath of the battle in two days, and on the third day he led his army back to Gifu. He had moved with the speed of the cuckoo that nightly flew over the Ane River, which now washed the bodies of the dead on its shores.
* * *
A great man is not made simply by innate ability. Circumstances must give him the opportunity. These circumstances are often the malevolent conditions that surround a man and work on his character, almost as if they were trying to torture him. When his enemies have taken every form possible, both seen and unseen, and ally themselves to confront him with every hardship imaginable, he encounters the real test of greatness.
Directly after the battle of the Ane River, Nobunaga returned home with such speed that the generals of his various units asked themselves if something had happened in Gifu. Quite naturally, the strategies of the field staff are not understood by the rank and file. A rumor now circulated among the soldiers that Hideyoshi had strongly advocated taking the main castle of the Asai at Odani and putting an end to them once and for all, but Lord Nobunaga had not agreed. Instead, the very next day he had made Hideyoshi commander of Yokoyama Castle, a branch castle that the enemy had abandoned, while he himself withdrew to Gifu.
The soldiers were not the only ones who did not understand the reasons behind Nobunaga's sudden return to Gifu. Very likely his closest retainers did not understand their lord's real intentions, either. The only man who might have had some idea was Ieyasu, whose impartial eye never strayed for long from Nobunaga: not too close at hand, but too distant; without excessive emotion, but not too coolly.
On the day Nobunaga left, Ieyasu returned to Hamamatsu. On the way, he said to his generals, "As soon as Lord Nobunaga takes off his bloodstained armor, he'll dress himself for the capital and whip his horse straight for Kyoto. His mind is like a restless young colt."
In the end, that is exactly what happened. By the time Ieyasu arrived at Hamamatsu Nobunaga was already on his way to Kyoto. Which is not to say that there was anything going on in the capital at the time. What Nobunaga feared was something that he could not see—a phantom enemy.
Nobunaga had disclosed his concern to Hideyoshi. "What do you think my biggest worry is? I imagine you know, don't you?"
Hideyoshi cocked his head to one side and said, "Well, now. It isn't the Takeda of kai, who are always lying in wait at your rear, or the Asai or Asakura clan. Lord Ieyasu someone to be careful of, but he's an intelligent man and so shouldn't be feared altogether. The Matsunaga and Miyoshi are like flies, and there are plenty of rotting things for them to swarm around, as it's their nature to go after the dying. Your only really troublesome enemies are the warrior-monks of the Honganji, but they don't trouble my lord much yet, I think. That only leaves one person."
"And who is he? Speak up."
"He's neither enemy nor ally. You have to show him respect, but if that's all you do, you might quickly become trapped. He's a two-faced apparition—oh, dear, I've spoken improperly. Aren't we talking about the shogun?"
"Right. But don't mention this to anyone." Nobunaga's anxiety was about this man, who was indeed truly neither friend nor foe: Yoshiaki, the shogun.
Yoshiaki had shed tears of gratitude over Nobunaga's past favors to him, and even said that he thought of Nobunaga as his own father. So why Yoshiaki? Duplicity is always found hidden away in places where one would least imagine it to be. Yoshiaki’s and Nobunaga's characters were not matched at all; their educations were different, so were their beliefs. As long as Nobunaga had helped him, Yoshiaki treated Nobunaga as a benefactor. But once he had warmed the shogun's seat a little, his gratitude turned to loathing.
"The bumpkin is annoying," Yoshiaki was heard to say. He began to avoid Nobunaga, and even regarded him as a stumbling block, whose authority exceeded his own. He was not, however, brave enough to bring matters out into the open and fight him. Yoshiaki's nature was completely negative. And, opposed to Nobunaga's positiveness, it played itself out in secrecy to the very end.
In a secluded room deep within Nijo Palace, the shogun conversed with an emissary from the warrior-monks of the Honganji.
"Abbot Kennyo resents him too? It's not surprising that Nobunaga's unparalleled arrogance and high-handedness anger the abbot."
The messenger concluded before leaving, "Please make sure that everything I've said is kept secret. At the same time, perhaps it would be advisable to send secret messages to Kai and to the Asai and Asakura clans so as not to miss this opportunity."
On the very same day, in another part of the palace, Nobunaga was waiting for Yoshiaki in order to announce his arrival in the capital. Yoshiaki composed himself, assumed an air of complete innocence, and went into the reception room to meet with Nobunaga.
"I hear that the battle of the Ane River was a splendid victory for you. Yet another ex-ample of your military prowess. Congratulations! This is a happy event indeed."
Nobunaga was unable to suppress a bitter smile at this flattery, and he replied with some irony, "No, no. It was thanks to Your Excellency's virtue and influence that we were able to fight so bravely, knowing there would be no unhappy events in the aftermath."
Yoshiaki turned slightly red, blushing like a woman. "Put your mind at ease. The capital is at peace, as you can see. But have you heard of some untoward event? After the battle, you came here with such frightening speed."
"No, I came to pay my respects at the completion of the rebuilding of the Imperial Palace, to look after affairs of state, and, of course, to inquire after Your Excellency's health."
"Ah, is that so?" Yoshiaki felt slightly relieved. "Well, you can see that I'm healthy and that the government is moving along without any problems, so you shouldn't be so anxious and come here so often. But come, let me treat you to a banquet to congratulate you officially upon your triumphal return."
"I must refuse, Your Excellency," Nobunaga said, waving off the suggestion. "I still haven't sent words of thanks to my officers and men. I wouldn't feel quite right about accepting an invitation to an extravagant banquet on my own. Let us postpone it until the next time I'm in attendance on Your Excellency."
With this, he took his leave. When he returned to his lodgings, Akechi Mitsuhide was waiting to submit his report.
"A monk who appeared to be a messenger from Abbot Kennyo of the Honganji was seen leaving the shogun's palace. These recent comings and goings between the warrior-monks and the shogun are pretty suspicious, don't you think?"
Nobunaga had appointed Mitsuhide commander of the Kyoto garrison. In this capacity, he meticulously recorded all visitors to Nijo Palace.
Nobunaga gave the report a quick look and said only, "Very good." He was disgusted that this shogun was so difficult to save, but he also felt that Yoshiaki's behavior s really a blessing. That night he called in the officials in charge of the construction of the Imperial Palace, and as he listened to the reports on the progress of the rebuilding, his mood brightened.
The next morning he rose early and inspected the nearly completed buildings. Then, after paying his respects to the Emperor at the old palace,
he returned to his lodgings as the sun was coming up, ate breakfast, and announced that he was leaving the capital.
When Nobunaga had arrived in Kyoto, he had been dressed in a kimono. On his return, however, he wore armor, because he was not returning to Gifu. Once again he made a tour of the battlefield at the Ane River, met with Hideyoshi, who was stationed at Yokoyama Castle, flew about giving orders to the units left in various places, and then laid siege to Sawayama Castle.
Having made a clean sweep of his enemies, Nobunaga returned to Gifu, but for him and his men there was still no time to rest from the fatigue of the lingering summer heat.
It was in Gifu that urgent letters reached Nobunaga from Hosokawa Fujitaka, who was at Nakanoshima Castle in Settsu, and from Akechi Mitsuhide in Kyoto. These letters informed him that in Noda, Fukushima, and Nakanoshima in Settsu, the Miyoshi had more than a thousand men building fortresses. These had been joined by the warrior-monks of the Honganji and their followers. Both Mitsuhide and Fujitaka stressed that there was no time to delay, and asked for Nobunaga's orders.
The main temple of the Honganji had been built during a period of civil disorder and confusion. It had been constructed to withstand the disturbances of the day: outside its stone walls was a deep moat, spanned by a fortified bridge. Although the Honganji was a temple, its construction was that of a castle. To be a monk here meant to be a warrior, and this place had no fewer warrior-monks than Nara and Mount Hiei. Very likely there was not a single priest living in this ancient Buddhist fortress who did not hate the up-start Nobunaga. They accused him of being an enemy of Buddhism who flouted tradition, a destroyer of culture, and a devil who knew no bounds—a beast among men.
When, instead of negotiating, Nobunaga had confronted the Honganji and forced them to cede some of their land to him, he had gone too far. The pride of the Buddhist fortress was strong, and the privileges it enjoyed were ancient. Reports from the west and other regions began to trickle in that the Honganji was arming itself. The temple had bought two thousand guns, the number of warrior-monks had increased manyfold, and new defensive moats were being dug around the fortress.
Nobunaga had anticipated that they would ally themselves with the Miyoshi clan, and that the weak shogun would be seduced to their side. He had also expected that malicious propaganda would be spread among the common people, and that this would most likely set off a popular uprising against him.
When he received urgent messages from Kyoto and Osaka, he was not particularly surprised. Rather, he was more fully resolved to take the opportunity, and quickly went to Settsu himself, stopping in Kyoto on the way.
“I humbly request that Your Excellency accompany my army," he told the shogun. “Your presence will be an inspiration to my troops, and will speed the quelling of the insurrection."
Yoshiaki was naturally reluctant, but he could not refuse. And although it seemed that Nobunaga was taking along a useless hanger-on, it benefited him to have the shield of the shogun's name as one more ploy to sow dissension among his enemies.
* * *
The area between the Kanzaki and Nakatsu rivers in Naniwa was a vast marshy plain, dotted with occasional patches of farmland. Nakajima was divided into the northern and southern districts. The fortress in the north was held by the Miyoshi, and the small castie in the south by Hosokawa Fujitaka. The battle was centered in this area, and continued violently from the beginning to the middle of the Ninth Month, now with a victory, now with a defeat. It was open warfare, with the new style of both small and large firearms in use.
In the middle of the Ninth Month, the Asai and Asakura, who had remained barricaded in their mountain casties, meditating on the bitterness of defeat and watching for Nobunaga to make a mistake, took up arms, crossed Lake Biwa, and set up their camps on the beaches at Otsu and Karasaki. One unit went to the Buddhist stronghold of Mount Hiei. For the first time, all the warrior-monks of the various sects were united against Nobunaga.
Their common complaint was, "Nobunaga has arbitrarily confiscated our lands and trampled our honor and the mountain that has been inviolate since the time of Saint Dengyo!"
There were close ties between Mount Hiei and the Asai and Asakura clans. The three agreed to cut off Nobunaga's retreat. The Asakura army moved out from the mountains north of the lake, while the Asai army crossed the lake and went ashore. The disposition of their troops indicated that they intended to grip the throat of Otsu and enter Kyoto. Then, waiting at the Yodo River, they would move in concert with the Honganji and destroy Nobunaga in a single offensive.
Nobunaga had been fighting hard for several days, confronting the warrior-monks and the large Miyoshi army from the fortress at Nakajima in the swamps between the Kanzaki and Nakatsu rivers. On the twenty-second, an alarming but cryptic report that a calamity was approaching from the rear reached his ears.
The details were not yet available, but Nobunaga inferred that when they came they would not be pleasant. He ground his teeth, wondering what this calamity might be. Calling Katsuie, he ordered him to take charge of the rear guard. As for himself he said, "I'm going to pull back immediately and crush the Asai, the Asakura, and Mount Hiei."
"Shouldn't we wait one more night for the next detailed report?" Katsuie said, trying to stop him.
"Why? Now is the time when the world is going to change!" That said, nothing was going to change his mind. He rode hard to Kyoto, changing horses more than once.
"My lord!"
"What a tragedy!"
Crying bitterly, a number of retainers crowded in front of his horse. "Your younger brother, Lord Nobuharu, and Mori Yoshinari met with heroic deaths at Uji, struck down after two days and two nights of bitter fighting."
The first man could not go on, so one of his companions continued, his voice quavering, "The Asai and Asakura and their allies, the monks, had a great army of over twenty thousand, so their strength could not be withstood."
Seemingly unmoved, Nobunaga replied, "Don't just read the names of dead men who are never going to come back at a time like this—what I want to hear is what’s going on now! How far has the enemy advanced? Where is the front line? I suppose none of you knows that. Is Mitsuhide here? If he's at the front, call him back immediately. Call Mitsuhide!"
A forest of banners surrounded the Mii Temple—the headquarters of the Asai and Asakura. The day before, the generals had inspected the severed head of Nobunaga’s younger brother, Nobuharu, before a large crowd. After that, they had examined the heads of other famous warriors of the Oda clan, one after another, until they were almost bored.
"That avenges our defeat at the Ane River. I feel a lot better now," one man muttered.
"Not until we've seen Nobunaga's head!" another man said.
Then someone laughed in a hoarse voice, thick with the accent of the north. "We've as good as seen it already. Nobunaga's got the Honganji and the Miyoshi in front of him, and us behind. Where is he going to run? He's a fish in a net!"
They inspected the heads for well over a day, until they became sick of the smell of blood. When night fell, the sake jars were carried into the headquarters, helping to raise the spirits of the victors. As the liquor was ladled out and drunk, the discussion turned to strategy.
"Should we enter Kyoto, or seize the bottleneck of Otsu and take him by gradually shrinking the encirclement and drawing him in like a big fish in a net?" one general suggested.
"We should definitely advance to the capital, and annihilate Nobunaga at the Yodo River and in the fields of Kawachi!" another countered.
"That's no good."
If one man advocated one tactic, another immediately opposed him. For although the Asai and Asakura clans were united in their aims, when it came to a discussion within the upper command, each man felt that he had to demonstrate his own shallow knowledge and uphold his reputation. The result was that nothing was decided until midnight.
Tired of the fruitless discussion, one of the Asai generals went outside. Looking up at the sky, h
e commented, "The sky has turned awfully red, hasn't it?"
“Our men have set fire to the peasants' houses from Yamashina to Daigo," a sentry responded.
"What for? It's futile to burn that area, isn't it?"
“Not at all. We have to contain the enemy," the Asakura general who had given the order countered. "The Oda garrison in Kyoto under Akechi Mitsuhide is tearing aroud as if its members were eager to die. And we, too, should show our own ferocity."
Dawn had come. Otsu was the crossroads of the major routes to the capital, but there was not one traveler or packhorse to be seen. Then one mounted man rode by, followed moments later by two or three others. These were military messengers, riding from the direction of the capital, galloping to the Mii Temple as if their lives depended on it.
"Nobunaga is almost at Keage. The troops of Akechi Mitsuhide are in the vanguard, and they are smashing through with unstoppable force."
The generals could hardly believe their ears.
"Surely it's not Nobunaga in person! There's no way he could have withdrawn from the battlefield at Naniwa so quickly."
"Two or three hundred of our men in Yamashina have already been killed. The enemy is on the rampage, and, as always, Nobunaga himself is giving the orders. He's riding like a mounted demon or god, and he's coming right this way!"
Both Asai Nagamasa and Asakura Kagetake blanched. Nagamasa felt this especially keenly; Nobunaga was his wife's brother, a man who had formerly treated him kindly. The show of Nobunaga's fury made him shudder.
"Retreat! Fall back to Mount Hiei!" Nagamasa blurted out.
Asakura Kagetake picked up the urgent tone of his ally's voice. "Back to Mount Hiei!" At the same time, he screamed orders to his retainers. "Set fire to the peasants' houses along the road! No, wait until our vanguard has gone through. Then set the fires! Set the fires!"
The hot wind scorched Nobunaga's brow. Sparks had ignited his horse's mane and the tassels on his saddle. From Yamashina to Otsu, the burning beams of the peasants' houses along the road and the flames that seemed to swirl through the air could not prevent him from reaching his destination. He had become the flames of a torch himself, and his men, as they galloped on, were a horde of fire.
TAIKO: AN EPIC NOVEL OF WAR AND GLORY IN FEUDAL JAPAN Page 52