Hideyoshi sympathized with what Mikawa was going through and could understand only too well Nagamasa and Oichi's grief. Hideyoshi was more easily moved to tears than other men, and now they quickly streaked down his face. He sniffled repeatedly and looked up toward the ceiling. But he did not forget his mission and reprimanded himself -he must not be led astray by mere emotion. He wiped away his tears and pressed ahead.
"I promised to wait, but we can't wait forever. I would like to request that a time limit be put on their leave-taking. You might say until what hour, for example."
"Of course. Well… I'll make this my own responsibility, but I'd like to ask you to wait until the Hour of the Boar. I can declare that mother and children will have left the castle by then."
Hideyoshi did not refuse. Yet there was no time for such leisure: Nobunaga was determined to take Odani before sunset. The entire army was waiting expectantly. Although Hideyoshi had flown the banner signaling that the rescue attempt had been successful, too much time was passing. There was no way for Nobunaga or any of his generals to now what was going on inside the castle. During this time, Hideyoshi could imagine their perplexity, the various opinions going around headquarters, the indecision and confusion on Nobunaga's face as he listened to the voices of doubt.
"No, that's not unreasonable," Hideyoshi agreed. "So be it. Let them make their unhurried farewells until the Hour of the Boar."
Cheered by Hideyoshi's consent, Mikawa went back to the keep. By that time the colors of evening were already deepening. Servants and the tea master served Hideyoshi delicacies and sake that would not ordinarily have been found inside a besieged castle.
When the servants withdrew, Hideyoshi drank by himself. It seemed as though his entire body was soaking up the autumn from the thin-edged lacquer cup. It was a sake on which you could not get drunk—cold and slightly bitter. Well, I should drink this with gusto, too. How much difference is there between those going to their deaths and those left behind? I suppose you could say only an instant, when you take the long-term philosophical view, considering the flow of thousands of years. He did his best to laugh out loud. But every time he drank, the sake chilled his heart. Somehow, he felt as if sobbing were pressing in on him in the oppressive silence.
Oichi's sobs and sorrow; Nagamasa; the innocent faces of the children: he could imagine what was taking place in the keep. What would it be like if I were Asai Nagamasa? he asked himself. After thinking this way, his emotions took a sudden swing, and he remembered his last words to Nene:
"I am a samurai. I might die in some battle this time. If I am killed, you should marry again before you are thirty years old. After you reach thirty, your beauty is going to wane, and the possibility of a happy match is going to be dim. You are capable of discretion, and it is better for a human being to be prepared with discrimination in this life. So if you've passed thirty, choose a good path with your own sense of discrimination. I'm not going to order you to remarry. And again, if we have a child, plan a future for that child to be your mainstay, whether you're young or on in years. Don't give yourself up to the complaints of women. Think as a mother, and use your mother's discrimination in everything you do."
At some point Hideyoshi had fallen asleep. Which is not to say that he had lain down; he just sat there and looked as though he were practicing meditation. From time to time he nodded his head. He was good at sleeping. He had developed this ability during the unfavorable circumstances of his youth, and was so disciplined that he could nod off whenever he wanted to, regardless of time or place.
He awoke to the sound of a hand drum. The food trays and sake had been taken away. Only the lamps still flickered with a white light. His lightheadedness had cleared away, and the fatigue had left his body. Hideyoshi realized that he must have slept for quite a while. At the same time he somehow felt a sense of cheer wrapping his entire being. Before he had gone to sleep, the atmosphere in the castle had been one of gloom and melancholy; but now it had changed with the sounds of the drum and laughing voices, and strangely, a genial warmth seemed to be floating in from somewhere.
He couldn't help feeling as though he had been bewitched. He was clearly awake, however, and everything was real. He could hear the sound of a hand drum, and someone was singing. The sounds were coming from the keep and were far away and indistinct, but he was sure someone had burst out laughing.
Hideyoshi suddenly wanted to be with people and went out onto the veranda. He could see a great number of lamps as well as people in the lord's residence on the other side of the wide central garden. A light breeze carried the smell of sake, and when the wind blew in his direction, he could hear the samurai beating time and singing.
The flowers are crimson,
The plums are scented.
The willows are green,
And a man's worth is decided by his heart.
Men among men,
Samurai that we are;
Flowers among flowers,
Samurai that we are.
Human life passes like this.
What is it without some pleasure?
Even if you'll never see tomorrow.
No, especially if you'll never see tomorrow. This was Hideyoshi's cherished theory. He, who despised the dark and loved the light, had found something that was a blessing in this world. Almost unconsciously he ambled in the direction of the gaiety, pulled along by the singing voices. Servants went running by in a hurry. They were carrying large trays piled high with food, and a barrel of sake.
They hurried with the same kind of eagerness they would probably show in the battle for the castle. It was certainly a gay party, and the vigor of life appeared on every face. It s enough to make Hideyoshi a little doubtful. "Hey! Isn't that Lord Hideyoshi?"
"Oh, General Mikawa."
"I wasn't able to find you in the guest room and was looking all over for you." Mikawa had the blush of sake on his cheeks too, and he no longer looked so haggard.
"Why all this gaiety in the keep?" Hideyoshi asked.
"Don't worry. As I promised you, it will end at the Hour of the Boar. It is said that since we must all die, the manner of our dying should be glorious. Lord Nagamasa and all his men are in high spirits, so he opened up all the sake vats in the castle and let it be known that there would be an Assembly of the Samurai. This way they're going to drink their farewells to each other before they leave this world."
"What about his farewell to his wife and children?"
"That's been taken care of." Through his intoxication, tears once again began to well up in Mikawa's eyes. An Assembly of the Samurai—this was a common affair in any clan, a time when the iron-clad divisions between classes and between lord and retainers were relaxed, and everyone enjoyed themselves with drunken song.
The assembly served a dual purpose: it was Nagamasa's farewell to his retainers, who were going to their deaths, and to his wife and children, who would live.
"But it's going to be boring for me just to hide away until the Hour of the Boar," Hideyoshi said. "With your permission, I'd like to attend the banquet."
"That's exactly why I was looking around for you. It's what His Lordship desires as well."
"What! Lord Nagamasa wants me to come?"
"He says that if he's entrusting his wife and children to the Oda clan, you must look after them from now on. Especially his young children."
"He shouldn't worry! And I'd like to tell him that in person. Would you take me to him?"
Hideyoshi followed Mikawa into a large banqueting hall. Every eye in the room turned toward him. The smell of sake filled the air. Naturally, everyone was in full armor, and every man there had resolved to die. They were going to die together; like blossoms taking in the wind, they were ready to fall all at once. But now, as they were having the best time they could, suddenly here was the enemy! Most of them glared at Hideyoshi with bloodshot eyes—eyes that would make most men cower.
"Excuse me," Hideyoshi said to no one in particular. He ent
ered, walking with small steps, and advanced right up to Nagamasa, in front of whom he prostrated himself.
"I have come, grateful that you've commanded that a cup should be extended even to me. Concerning the future of your son and three daughters, I will protect them even at the cost of my own life," Hideyoshi said in one breath. Had he paused or appeared to be in the least bit afraid, the samurai around him might have been driven to some unfortunate action through their inebriation and hatred.
"That is my request, General Hideyoshi." Nagamasa took a cup and passed it directly to him.
Hideyoshi took the cup and drank.
Nagamasa seemed satisfied. Hideyoshi had not dared to mention the name of Oichi or Nobunaga. Nagamasa's beautiful young wife was sitting with her children off to the side, hidden by a silver folding screen. They huddled together like irises blooming at the edge of a pond. Hideyoshi looked at the flickering of the silver lantern from the corner of his eye, but did not look at them directly. He returned the cup respectfully to Nagamasa.
"For the time being, we should forget that we are enemies," Hideyoshi said. "Having accepted this sake at your assembly, with your permission, I would like to perform a short dance."
"You want to dance?" Nagamasa said, expressing the surprise of all the men present. They were a little overawed by this little man.
Oichi drew her children to her knee, just as a mother hen might protect her chicks. "Don't be frightened. Mother is here," she whispered.
Having received Nagamasa's permission to dance, Hideyoshi got up and walked to the middle of the room. He was just about to begin when Manju cried out, "It's him!"
Manju and Chacha held fast to their mother's lap. They were looking at the man who earlier had been so frightening. Hideyoshi began to beat the time with his foot. At the same time, he slapped open a fan that showed a red circle on a golden field.
Having so much leisure,
I gaze at the gourd at the gate.
Now and then, a gentle breeze
Unexpectedly there, by chance here;
Unexpectedly, by chance,
The gourd vine, how amusing.
He sang in a loud voice, and danced as though he had not one other thing in his mind. But before his dance had ended, gunfire rang out from one section of the castle wall. Then came the sound of return fire from a shorter distance. It seemed that the forces both inside and outside the castle had started to fire on each other at the same moment.
"Damn it!" Hideyoshi swore, throwing down his fan. It was not yet the Hour of the Boar. The men outside the castle had known nothing about that, however. Hideyoshi had given no second signal. Thinking that they would not make an attack, he had felt more or less secure. But now it seemed that the generals at headquarters had lost patience and decided to press Nobunaga to take immediate action.
Damn it! Hideyoshi's fan fell at the feet of the castle's commanding generals, who had all stood up together, and this brought their attention quite clearly to Hideyoshi, whom until now they had not thought of as an enemy.
"An attack!" shouted one man.
"The coward! He lied to us!"
The crowd of samurai split into two. The larger group dashed outside while the rest of the men surrounded Hideyoshi, ready to hack him to pieces with their swords.
"Who ordered this? Don't strike him! That man is not to be killed!" Nagamasa suddenly yelled at the top of his voice.
His men shouted back as though they were challenging him, "But the enemy has started a general attack!"
Nagamasa ignored their complaints and called, "Ogawa Denshiro, Nakajima Sakon!"
The two men were his children's tutors. When they came forward and prostrated themselves, Nagamasa also called for Fujikake Mikawa. "The three of you are to protect my wife and children and guide Hideyoshi out of the castle. Go now!" he commanded.
Then he looked sternly at Hideyoshi and, calming himself as much as possible, said, “All right, I'm entrusting them to you."
His wife and children threw themselves at his feet, but he shook them off and shouted, "Farewell." With that one word, Nagamasa grasped a halberd and ran off into the howling darkness.
One side of the castle was engulfed in mounting pillars of flame. Nagamasa instinctively shielded his face with one hand as he ran. Splinters of burning wood, like wings of flame, grazed his face. A thick black smoke was winding its way over the ground. The first and second Oda samurai to breach the castle walls had already called out their names. The flames had reached the mansion in the keep and were running up the gutters faster than the rain had ever gone down them. Nagamasa spied a corps of iron-helmeted men concealed in that area and suddenly lunged to the side.
"The enemy!"
His close retainers and family members stood around him and struck at the invading troops. Above them were the flames, all around them was black smoke. The clanging armor rang out, spear against spear, sword against sword. The ground was soon covered with the bodies of the dead and wounded. The larger part of the soldiers in the castle followed Nagamasa and fought as long as they could, each achieving a glorious death. Few of them were captured or surrendered. The fall of Odani Castle was nothing like the defeat of the Asakura in Echizen or of the shogun in Kyoto. So it could be said that Nobunaga's judgment in choosing Nagamasa as a brother-in-law had not been wrong.
The troubles of Hideyoshi, who had saved Oichi and her children from the flames, and those of Fujikake Mikawa, were not concerned with the battle. If the attacking troops had only waited another three hours, Hideyoshi and his charges could have been led out of the castle easily. But only minutes after they had left the keep, the inside of the castle was engulfed in flames and fighting soldiers, so that Hideyoshi was finding it very difficult just to protect the four children and get them out.
Fujikake Mikawa carried the youngest girl on his back, her elder sister, Hatsu, went on the back of Nakajima Sakon, and Manju was strapped on the back of his tutor, Ogawa Denshiro.
"Hop up onto my shoulders," Hideyoshi told Chacha, but the little girl refused to leave her mother's side. Oichi held the girl close as though she would not let her go. Hideyoshi wrenched them apart and scolded them. "It would not do for you to be hurt. I'm begging you, this is what Lord Nagamasa asked me to do."
This was no time to treat them sympathetically, and even though his words were polite, his tone was frightening. Oichi put Chacha on his back.
"Is everybody ready? Stay by me. My lady, please give me your hand." Shouldering Chacha, Hideyoshi pulled Oichi by the hand and started out straight ahead. Oichi stumbled along, barely able to keep from falling. Soon she pulled her hand free from Hideyoshi's grasp without saying a word. She followed as a mother would follow, half-crazed with distraction for the children who were in front of her and behind her in the midst of the fury.
Nobunaga was now watching the flames of Odani Castle, which were almost close enough to burn his face. The mountains and valleys on all three sides were red, and the burning castle roared like a huge smelting furnace.
When the flames finally turned to smoking ashes and it was all over, Nobunaga could not hold back his tears over his sister's fate. The fool! he cursed Nagamasa.
When all the temples and monasteries on Mount Hiei had been consigned to the flames along with the lives of every monk and layman on the mountain, Nobunaga had watched unmoved. Now those same eyes were filled with tears. The slaughter on Mount Hiei could not be compared with the death of his sister.
Human beings possess both intellect and instinct, and they often contradict each other. Nobunaga, however, had great faith in his destruction of Mount Hiei—that by destroying one single mountain, countless lives would be promised happiness and prosperity. The death of Nagamasa held no such great significance. Nagamasa had fought with a narrow-minded sense of duty and honor, and thus Nobunaga had been forced to do the same. Nobunaga himself had asked Nagamasa to abandon his stunted sense of duty and to share his own larger vision. Certainly he had treated Nagamasa
with a large degree of consideration and generosity to the very end. But that generosity had to have a limit. He would have been lenient with the man right up to this evening, but his generals woul not permit it.
Even though Takeda Shingen of Kai was dead, his generals and men were still in very good health, and his son's abilities were supposed to excel his father's. Nobunaga's enemies were only waiting for him to stumble. It would be folly to wait passively in northern Omi for a long time after he had defeated Echizen with one blow. Listening to this sort of reasoning and argument from his generals, even Nobunaga had been unable to speak up for his sister. But then Hideyoshi had requested permission to be Nobunaga's envoy for just one day. And although he had sent a signal of good news while it was still light, evening came, and then night, and he had sent no further report whatsoever.
Nobunaga's generals were indignant.
“Do you think he was tricked by the enemy?"
"He's probably been killed."
"The enemy is planning some scheme while we're off guard."
Nobunaga resigned himself and finally gave the order for an all-out attack. But after making his decision, he wondered if he had not sacrificed Hideyoshi's life, and his regret was nearly unbearable.
Suddenly a young samurai wearing black-threaded armor ran up in such a hurry that he almost hit Nobunaga with his spear.
"My lord!" he gasped.
"Kneel!" a general ordered. "Put your spear behind you!"
The young samurai fell heavily to his knees under the stares of the retainers surrounding Nobunaga.
"Lord Hideyoshi has just returned. He was able to get out of the castle without mishap."
"What! Hideyoshi is back?" Nobunaga exclaimed. "Alone?" he asked hurriedly.
The young messenger added, "He came with three men of the Asai clan, and with the lady Oichi and her children."
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