The commander's standard had been tossed into Shosuke's hands just as he had begged, but at that moment Katsuie had also left him with the words, "Take it among my warriors!
That had been his request and it no doubt had been made in consideration of the men who were being left to their deaths along with Shosuke.
Some thirty men instantly gathered beneath the standard. Those were the only men who truly respected their own honor and who were willing to die for their lord.
Ah, there are some honorable Shibata men left, Shosuke thought, looking happily at the faces around him. "Come on! Let's show them how to die happily!"
Putting the standard into the hands of one of the warriors, he dashed out in front, hurrying west from Yanagase village toward the northern ridge of Mount Tochinoki. When the small force of not even forty men made the resolve to go forward, they manifested a spirit far more intense than that of the thousands of men on Kitsunezaka that morning.
"Katsuie has fallen back to the mountains!"
"It appears that he's made his final resolve and is prepared to die."
As might be expected, the pursuing Hideyoshi troops exhorted each other to go on.
"We'll have Katsuie's head!"
Each one fought to take the lead as they started to climb Mount Tochinoki. Flashing the golden standard on the mountaintop, the Shibata warriors watched breathlessly as the numbers of enemy warriors—who were scrambling up even in places where there was no path—increased moment by moment.
"There's still time to pass around a farewell cup of water," Shosuke said.
In those few moments, Shosuke and his comrades scooped up and shared the water that trickled from between the crags on the mountaintop and calmly prepared themselves for death. Shosuke suddenly turned to his brothers Mozaemon and Shobei.
"Brothers, you should escape and return to our village. If all three of us achieve death In battle at once, no one will be able to carry on the family name or take care of our mother. Mozaemon, the elder brother is supposed to carry on the family name, so why go now?"
“If the younger brothers are cut down by the enemy," Mozaemon replied, "can the elder brother face his mother with the words 'I'm home now?' No, I'll stay here. Shobei, you should go."
“That would be horrible!" ?"
“Why?”
“For me to be sent home alive at a time like this would hardly be a pleasure for our mother. And our dead father must be looking at his sons from the other world today as well. It will not be my feet that walk back to Echizen today."
“Well then, we'll die together!"
Their souls united in a pledge of death, the three brothers stood unwavering beneath the commander's standard.
Shosuke made no further mention to his brothers about wanting them to return home.
The three brothers took their farewell drink from a scoop of clear spring water and, as a refreshing spirit passed through their breasts, all turned in the direction of their home.
One can imagine the prayers that were in their hearts. The enemy was approaching from all sides, close enough now that the individual voices of enemy soldiers could be heard.
“Guard the commander's standard, Shobei," Shosuke said to his younger brother as he put on his face guard. He was pretending to be Katsuie, and did not want the enemy to recognize him.
Five or six musket balls snapped past his head. Taking that as their cue, the thirty men invoked Hachiman, the god of war, and struck out for the enemy.
They divided into three units and attacked the advancing enemy. The men coming up from below were breathing hard and could not stand up to the desperate figures running down at them. Long swords poured down on the helmets of Hideyoshi's men, spears pierced their breasts, and their wretched corpses fell everywhere.
‘Let no one be too eager to die!" Shosuke shouted suddenly as he withdrew inside a palisade.
As the commander's standard followed him, so too did his remaining men.
‘It’s said that the slap of five fingers is not as strong as the blow of a single fist. If our little force scatters, its effects will be weakened. Stay beneath the standard whether we advance or-retreat."
Given that caution, they leaped out once again. Whirling one way, they cut furiously into the enemy; whirling another, they pierced him with spears. Then, like the wind, they withdrew to their ramparts.
Thus, they sallied forward six or seven times to fight.
The attackers had already lost more than two hundred men. It was close to noon, and an intense sun shone high overhead. The fresh blood on the armor and helmets dried quickly, giving off a black luster like that of lacquer.
There were fewer than ten men remaining beneath the commander's standard, and their fiery eyes hardly seemed to see each other. Not one man was uninjured.
An arrow pierced Shosuke's shoulder. As he looked at the fresh blood flowing over his sleeve, he pulled the arrow from his body with his own hand. Then he turned in the direction from which the arrow had come. The tops of a great number of helmets could be seen approaching, rustling through the bamboo grass like wild pigs.
Shosuke used the time he had left to speak quietly to his comrades. "We have fought every way we could, and we have nothing to regret. Everyone choose a respectable enemy and make a splendid name for yourself. Let me be the first, dying in our lord's stead. Do not let the commander's standard fall. Carry it high, one man after another!"
Those blood-smeared warriors so prepared to die raised the standard toward the enemy coming through the bamboo grass. The warriors moving in their direction must have been uncommonly fierce men. They came on unflinchingly, demonstrating the oaths they had made with their spears. Shosuke faced them and yelled out to dampen their spirits.
"How discourteous of you! Low-class nobodies! Are you thinking of putting your spears into the body of Shibata Katsuie?"
Shosuke looked like a demon, and in fact no one was able to stand in front of him. A number of men were speared down almost at his feet.
Observing the man's ferocity and fighting desperately with men who were willing to defend their commander's standard to the death, even the most violent braggarts of the attacking troops broke their encirclement and opened up a path to the foot of the mountain.
"Here I am! Katsuie himself is coming! If Hideyoshi is here, have him meet me mounted and alone! Come on out, monkey-face!" Shosuke yelled out as he went down the slope road.
Right there he pierced an armored warrior with a mortal wound. His elder brother, Mozaemon, had already been struck down; his little brother, Shobei, had crossed long swords with an enemy warrior, and each had struck the other dead. Shobei had fallen to the base of a nearby crag.
Beside him, the gold commander's standard lay abandoned, now completely red.
From both the top and the bottom of the slope, innumerable spears now pressed in on Shosuke's body, every warrior wanting to take the commander's standard and the head they believed to be Katsuie's.
Each man vied with the others for the prize. Beneath the confusion of spears, Menju Shosuke achieved death in battle.
A handsome young warrior of only twenty-five years, he had been held in low esteem by men like Katsuie and Genba because of his reticence, gentility, grace, and love of learning—Shosuke's innocent features were still concealed by his face guard.
"I killed Shibata Katsuie!" a samurai yelled.
"His commander's standard was taken by these hands!" shouted another.
Then every voice was raised, one man claiming this, another claiming that, until the entire mountain shook.
And still Hideyoshi's men had no idea that the head belonged not to Shibata Katsuie, But to Menju Shosuke, the captain of his pages.
“We've killed Katsuie!"
“I’ve held the head of the lord of Kitanosho!"
Pushing and shoving, their cries reverberated through the air. "The standard! The standard! And his head! We took his head!"
A True Friend
Kats
uie had barely escaped with his life, but his army had been annihilated. Until that morning, the Shibata standard with its golden emblem had flown in the vicinity of Yanagase, but now only Hideyoshi's standard could be seen. It shone brilliantly in the bright sunshine, impressing all who saw it, symbolizing a reality that transcended ordinary wisdom and strength.
The flags and banners of Hideyoshi's army—which stretched out along the roads, and covered the fields presented a grand spectacle of victory. They were packed so closely together that they resembled a thick golden haze.
The army started eating its provisions. Hostilities had begun early that morning and had lasted for about eight hours. When the meal was finished, the entire army was given orders to advance north immediately.
As the men approached Tochinoki Pass, they could see the Tsuruga Sea to the west, while the mountains of Echizen opened up to the north seemingly right under their horses' hooves.
The sun was already beginning to sink, and heaven and earth burned with an evening glow encompassing all the colors of a rainbow.
Hideyoshi's face was burnt a deep red. He did not, however, appear to be a man who had not slept for days. He seemed to have forgotten that men need to sleep. Constantly advancing, he had not yet ordered a halt. At that time of year the nights were at their shortest. While it was still light, the main army bivouacked at Imajo in Echizen. The vanguard went on, however, having been ordered to advance as far as Wakimoto—more than two leagues away—while the rear guard stopped at Itadori, about the same distance behind the central army. Thus, the camp that night stretched for four leagues from van to rear.
That night Hideyoshi fell into contented slumber—one that even the song of the mountain cuckoo could not disturb.
Tomorrow we'll get to Fuchu Castle, Hideyoshi thought just before going to sleep. But how will Inuchiyo receive us?
What was Inuchiyo doing at that time? He had passed through the area at noon that same day and, while the sun was still high in the sky, had withdrawn his army into Fuchu, his son’s castle.
“Thank the gods you're safe," his wife said as she came out to greet him.
“Take care of the wounded. You can look to me later on."
Inuchiyo did not even take off his sandals or untie his armor; he just stood in front of the castle. His pages were also there, lined up behind him, solemnly waiting.
Finally, corps after corps of warriors marched smartly through the gate, carrying the corpses of their fallen comrades, on top of which they had laid their banners. Next, those wounded in battle were either carried in or walked in, leaning on their comrades' shoulders.
The thirty-odd casualties the Maeda had suffered in the retreat did not compare with the losses of the Shibata and Sakuma. The bell was rung at the temple, and as the sun dipped in the sky, the smoke from cooking fires began to rise from all parts of the castle. The order was given for the soldiers to eat their rations. The troops, however, did not disperse, but stayed in their units, as if they were still on the battlefield.
A guard at the main gate yelled, "The lord of Kitanosho has arrived at the castle
“What! Lord Katsuie here!" Inuchiyo muttered in astonishment. This was an unexpected development, and Inuchiyo seemed unable to bear to meet the man—now a fugitive. For a moment he was sunk in thought, but then he said, "Let's go out to greet him."
Inuchiyo followed his son out of the keep. Descending the last set of stairs, he walked to the drkened connecting corridor. One of his attendants, Murai Nagayori, followed after him.
“My lord," Murai whispered.
Inuchiyo looked at Murai questioningly.
The retainer whispered in his lord's ear, "Lord Katsuie's arrival here is an incomparable and happy opportunity. If you kill him and send his head to Lord Hideyoshi, your and Lord Hideyoshi's relationship will be patched up without difficulty."
Without warning Inuchiyo struck the man in the chest. "Shut up!" he thundered.
Murai staggered back to fhe wooden wall behind him and just barely avoided falling over. Turning pale, he had the presence of mind neither to stand up nor to sit completely down.
Glaring at him, Inuchiyo spoke with undisguised anger. "It is an outrageous act to whisper into a lord's ear an immoral, cowardly plan that a man should be ashamed to utter. You consider yourself a samurai, but you know nothing of the Way of the Samurai! What kind of man would sell the head of a general who had come knocking at his gate, just to profit his own clan? Much less when he's spent as many years campaigning with that general as I have!"
Leaving the trembling Murai behind, Inuchiyo went out toward the main entrance togreet Katsuie. Katsuie had come up to the castle gate still on horseback. He held the shaft of a broken spear in one hand and did not appear to be wounded, but his entire face—his entire being—was suffused with desolation.
The reins of his horse were held by Toshinaga, who had run out to greet him. The eight men who accompanied him had stayed outside the main gate. So Katsuie was alone.
"I'm greatly obliged to you." With those courteous words to Toshinaga, Katsuie dismounted. He looked Inuchiyo in the face and spoke in a loud voice full of self-scorn. "We lost! We lost!"
He was in surprisingly good spirits. It may have been that he was just pretending, but he seemed far more relaxed than Inuchiyo had imagined he would be. Inuchiyo was kinder than usual in greeting the defeated general. Toshinaga was no less concerned than his father and helped the fugitive take off his blood-soaked sandals.
"I feel as though I've come home to my own house."
Kindness makes a deep impression on a man in the abyss of destruction and causes him to abandon any suspicions and bitterness. It is the only thing that will make him think that there is still light in the world.
Apparently now quite happy, Katsuie continued to congratulate father and son on their escape. "This defeat was entirely due to my own oversights. I brought troubles onto you, too, and I hope you'll forgive me," he apologized. "I'll retreat as far as Kitanosho and put my affairs in order and without any regrets. I wonder if you wouldn't give me a bowl of rice and tea."
Demon Shibata seemed to have become the Buddha Shibata. Even Inuchiyo was unable to hold back his tears.
"Bring some tea and rice quickly. And sake" Inuchiyo ordered. He could think of few words of comfort for the man. Nevertheless, he felt that he had to say something. "It's often said that victory and defeat are the stuff of a warrior's life. If you consider today's disaster in terms of human destiny, you know that to be proud of victory is the first step toward the day of destruction, and to be completely defeated is the first step toward the day of victory. The eternal cycle of man's rise and fall is not just a matter of temporary joy and sorrow."
"Therefore, what I regret is neither my own personal destruction nor the perpetual cycle of change," Katsuie said. "I only regret the loss of my reputation. But rest assured, Inuchiyo. It is all predestined."
For him to say such a thing was a complete departure from the Katsuie of olden days. But he seemed to be neither tormented nor confused.
When the sake arrived, Katsuie happily took a cup and, supposing that it would be his farewell, poured one for father and son as well. He heartily ate the simple meal Inuchiyo had ordered.
"I've never tasted anything like the rice I've eaten today. I'll never forget your kindness." That said, he took his leave.
Inuchiyo, who accompanied him outside, immediately noticed that his mount was exhausted. Ordering a page to bring out his own beloved dapple-gray horse, he offered it to Katsuie. "Put your mind at ease," Inuchiyo said. "We will hold this place until you get to Kitanosho."
Katsuie started to leave but then turned the horse around and came up to Inuchiyo as though he had suddenly remembered something. "Inuchiyo, you and Hideyoshi have been close friends since your youth. The battle having turned out this way, I release you from your duty to me as a retainer."
Those were to be his last words to Inuchiyo. As he mounted his horse, his expressi
on was devoid of any falsehood. Confronted with such feeling, Inuchiyo bowed with heartfelt emotion. The figure of Katsuie leaving the castle gate was black against the red of the evening sun. The tiny remaining army of eight mounted men and ten or so foot soldiers now took flight to Kitanosho.
Two or three mounted men galloped into Fuchu Castle. Their news was soon common knowledge throughout the stronghold. "The enemy is camped at Wakimoto. Lord Hideyoshi has set up camp at Imajo, so there is little prospect of an attack tonight."
Hideyoshi slept happily through the night—really more like half the night—at Imajo, and on the following day he left camp early and rode to Wakimoto.
Kyutaro came out to greet him. He erected the commander's standard, indicating the presence of the commander-in-chief.
"What went on in Fuchu Castle last night?" Hideyoshi asked.
"There appeared to be a great deal of activity."
"Are they fortifying the place? Maybe the Maeda want to fight." Answering his own question, he looked toward Fuchu. Suddenly he turned to Kyutaro and ordered him to prepare his troops.
"Are you going into battle in person?" Kyutaro asked.
"Of course." Hideyoshi nodded as though he were looking out over a large level road. Kyutaro quickly communicated Hideyoshi's words to the various generals and blew the conch shell to assemble the vanguard. Very soon the men had fallen into ranks, ready to march.
It was less than two hours to Fuchu. Kyutaro rode in front while Hideyoshi himself rode in the middle of the vanguard. They were soon in sight of the castle walls. Inside the castle, the men were naturally feeling extremely tense. Viewed from the top of the keep, the columns of men and Hideyoshi's standard of the golden gourds looked close enough to touch.
The order to halt had not yet been given. And, as Hideyoshi was in their midst, the soldiers of the vanguard were sure that he would surround the castle immediately.
Moving toward the main gate of Fuchu Castle, Hideyoshi's men—now like a rushing river—displayed the "crane wing" formation. For a moment, only the commander's standard did not move.
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