Nagayoshi, looking straight ahead, held the reins loosely as he listened. "What about the men at Mount Rokubo?" he asked.

"The men were quickly put in order, and they're now coming along behind us."

"Well then, tell Lord Kyutaro of the Third Corps that we have combined our forces and are advancing to confront Ieyasu at Mount Fujigane, so he should pull back in this direction to support us."

Just as the man galloped off, two mounted messengers hurried up with the same instructions for Kyutaro from Shonyu.

But, as has already been related, Kyutaro refused that request and the messengers returned in outrage. By the time Nagayoshi received their reports, his army had already marched through a swampy area between the mountains and was starting to climb to the top of Gifugadake in search of a good position. Before them waved Ieyasu's standard of the golden fan.

The lay of the land was complicated. In the distance, an approach to one section of the open plain of Higashi Kasugai wound and bent its way along, now scissored between the mountains, now embracing smaller plains. The Mikawa road that connected with Okazaki could be seen in the distant south.

But mountains covered more than half of the field of vision. There were no steep precipices or high crags but only undulating waves of hills. As spring departed, the trees were covered with faintly red buds.

Messengers were exchanged in rapid succession, but the thoughts of Nagayoshi and Shonyu were communicated without words. Shonyu's six thousand troops were immediately divided into two units. About four thousand men headed toward the north, and then made their formation to the southeast on high ground. The commander's standard and banners clearly announced that the generals here were Shonyu's eldest son, Yukisuke, and his second son, Terumasa.

That was the right wing. The left wing was made up of Nagayoshi's three thousand soldiers on Gifugadake. Leading the remaining two thousand soldiers, Shonyu stayed with them as a reserve corps. Shonyu set up his commander's standard at the very center of this crane-wing formation.

"I wonder how Ieyasu is going to attack," he said.

Looking up at the sun, the men could see that it was still only the second half of the Hour of the Dragon. Had the hours been long or short? It was not a day for measuring time in the ordinary way. Their throats were dry, but they did not want water.

The uncanny silence made their flesh crawl. A bird cried wildly as it flew across the valley. But that was all. The birds had all flown to some other more peaceful mountain leaving the place to men.

Ieyasu appeared to be too stoop-shouldered. After pa.s.sing forty he had become somewhat fleshy, and even when he put on his armor, his back was rounded, his shoulers plump; his head seemed to be almost stuffed into his shoulders by his heavy decorated helmet. His right hand, which held the baton of command, and his left were both on his knees. Seated on the edge of his camp stool with his thighs apart, he slouched forward in a way that affected his dignity.

And yes, that was his ordinary posture, even when seated before a guest or walking around. He was not one to stick out his chest. His senior retainers had once advised him to correct his posture, and Ieyasu had nodded vaguely in a.s.sent. But as he was talking with his retainers one night, he told them a little about his past.

"I was brought up in poverty. More than that, I was a hostage in another clan from the time I was six, and everyone I saw around me had more rights than I did. So I naturally got into the habit of not going around with my chest stuck out, even when I was with other children. Another reason for my bad posture is that when I studied in the cold room at the Rinzai Temple, I read my books at a desk so low I had to hold on to them like a hunchback. I became almost obsessed by the thought that someday I would be released as a hostage from the Imagawa clan and my body would become my own again. I couldn't play like a child."

It seemed that Ieyasu could never forget the time he had spent with the Imagawa clan. There was no one among his attendant retainers who had not heard the stories of his days as a hostage.

"But you know," he continued, "according to what I was told by Sessai, priests have more respect for what a man's shoulders say about him than what his face does. It seems that he could tell if a man had reached enlightenment just by looking at his shoulders. So, when I looked to see what the abbot's shoulders were like, I found that they were always as round and soft as a halo. If a man wanted to put the entire universe in his breast, he couldn't do it with his chest stuck out. So I started to think that my own posture was not so bad."

Having set up his headquarters in Fujigane, Ieyasu looked around calmly.

"Is that Gifugadake? The men there must be Nagayoshi's. Well, I suppose Shonyu's forces will very soon be getting themselves ready at some mountain or another. One of you scouts hurry and take a look."

The scouts quickly returned and made their reports to Ieyasu. Of course, the information about the enemy positions came in piecemeal. As Ieyasu listened to the reports, he formulated his strategy.

By that time it was already the Hour of the Serpent. Nearly two hours had pa.s.sed since the enemy's banners had appeared on the mountain before them.

But Ieyasu was composed. "Shiroza. Hanjuro. Come over here." Still seated, he looked around with a serene expression.

"Yes, my lord?" The two samurai approached him, their armor clattering.

Ieyasu asked for the two men's opinions as he compared the map in front of him with the immediate scene.

"When I think about it, it seems that Shonyu's forces at Kobehazama must consist of the real veterans. Depending on how they move, we may be at a real disadvantage here at Fujigane."

One of the men pointed to the peaks in the southeast and answered, "If you're resolved to a decisive battle of close fighting, I think that the foothills over there could be much better places to plant your banners."

"Good! Let's move."

His decision was that quick. The change in the army's position was made immediately. From the foothills, the elevated land held by the enemy was close enough to touch.

Separated only by a marsh and the low area of Karasuhazama, the soldiers could see their enemies' faces and even hear their voices carried on the wind.

Ieyasu ordered the placement of each unit, while he himself had his camp stool set up in a place with an un.o.bstructed view.

"Well, I see that Ii is leading the vanguard today," Ieyasu said.

"The Red Guard has come out to the front!"

"They look good, but I wonder how well they'll fight."

Ii Hyobu was twenty-three years old. Everyone knew that the young man was highly regarded by Ieyasu, and until that morning he had been among the retainers at Ieyasu's side. For his part, Ieyasu viewed Ii as a man that could be put to good use, and he had given him the command of three thousand men and the responsibility for leading the vanguard. That position held the possibility of yielding both the greatest fame and the bitterest hardship.

"Show your spirit just as you please today," Ieyasu counseled.

Ii was so young, however, that Ieyasu took the precaution of attaching two of his experienced retainers to his unit. He added, "Listen to the words of these veterans."

The brothers Yukisuke and Terumasa looked out at the Red Guard from their elevated position at Tanojiri, to the south.

"Strike at that ostentatious Red Corps that's making such a show!" Yukisuke ordered.

With that, the brothers sent a unit of two or three hundred men out from the side of a ravine and a attack corps of one thousand men from the front lines, first opening up with their firearms. At the same time, the foothills erupted in thunderous gunfire, and white smoke spread out like a cloud. As the smoke turned into a light haze and drifted toward the marsh, Ii's red-clad warriors quickly ran toward the low ground. A group of black-armored warriors and foot soldiers ran out to meet them. The distance between the two groups was quickly breached, and the two spear corps engaged in hand-to-hand fighting.

The real heroics of a warrior's battle were usually seen in the fight of spear against spear. More than that, the outcome of battle was often decided by the actions of the spearmen.

It was here that the Ii corps killed several hundred of the enemy. The Red Guard, however, did not escape without casualties, and a good number of Ii's retainers met their deaths.

Ikeda Shonyu had been thinking about the plan of battle for some time. He saw that the troops under his sons were engaged in hand-to-hand fighting with the Red Guards, and that the battle was gradually becoming intensified. "Now's your chance!" he yelled behind him.

A corps of about two hundred men who were ready to win or die had readied their spears beforehand and were waiting for the moment. As soon as they were given the command to advance, they were to rush out into the direction of Nagakute. It was in Shonyu's character to choose unusual battle tactics even at a time like this. The unit of attack troops received the command, circled around Nagakute, and aimed at the troops that remained after the Tokugawa's left wing had pushed forward. The plan was to swiftly attack the enemy's center and, when the enemy's battle array was in confusion, to capture the commander-in-chief, Tokugawa Ieyasu.

The plan, however, did not succeed. Discovered by the Tokugawa before reaching their objective, they received a heavy fusillade of musket fire and were brought to a standstill in a swampy area where it was difficult to move. Unable to advance or retreat, they sustained pitiful losses.

Nagayoshi looked out at the battle situation from Gifugadake and clicked his tongue. "Ah, they were sent too early," he cried out. "It's not like my father-in-law to be so impatient." Today it was the young man who, in every situation, was far more composed than his father-in-law. In fact, Nagayoshi was resolved in his heart that that day was to be the day of his death. With no other thoughts or distractions, he simply looked straight ahead at the commander's stool under the golden fan in the foothills in front of him.

If only I can kill Ieyasu, he thought. Ieyasu, for his part, kept his eye on Gifugadake more than on any other area, aware that the spirit in Nagayoshi's ranks was high. When a scout informed him about the way Nagayoshi was dressed that day, he issued a warning to the men around him.

"Nagayoshi appears to be dressed in his death outfit today, and there's nothing more intimidating than an enemy determined to die. Don't make light of him and be taken in by the G.o.d of death."

Thus, the confrontation was not going to be easily initiated by either side. Nagayoshi watched his opponent's movements, feeling in his heart that if the battle at Tanojiri intensified, Ieyasu would not be able to look on simply as a spectator. Surely he would detach a division of soldiers and send them as reinforcements. And with that opportunity Nagayoshi would strike. But Ieyasu was not going to be taken in easily.

"Nagayoshi is fiercer than most men. If he's this quiet, it's certain that he's up to something."

But the situation at Tanojiri betrayed Nagayoshi's expectations, and the signs of the Ikeda brothers' defeat were coming thick and fast. Finally he resolved that he could wait no longer. But just at that moment, the commander's standard with the golden fan that had remained invisible until now was suddenly raised in the foothills where Ieyasu waited.

Half of Ieyasu's army dashed toward Tanojiri, while the remaining men raised their voices and attacked Gifugadake.

Nagayoshi's troops charged out to meet them, and with the collision of the two armies, the lowland area of Karasuhazama was turned into a whirlpool of blood.

The gunfire was unceasing. It was a desperate battle in a place hemmed in by hills, and the whinnying of horses and the clanging of long swords and spears echoed back and forth. The voices of the warriors calling out their names to their opponents shook heaven and earth.

Soon there was not a single position unengaged throughout the narrow confines of the area, not a single commander or soldier who was not fighting for his life. Just as some troops appeared to be victorious, they crumbled; and just as others seemed to be defeated, they struck through. No one knew who had won, and for a while it was a battle in the dark.

Some men were struck down and killed, while others were victorious and called out their own names. Of those who received wounds, some were called cowards, while others were praised as brave men. If an observer looked carefully, however, he could see that each individual was hurrying along toward eternity, creating his own unique fate.

Shame was the one thing that would not let Nagayoshi think about returning alive to the everyday world. It was the reason he had put on his death robes today.

"I will meet Ieyasu!" Nagayoshi vowed.

As the battle became more and more chaotic, Nagayoshi called together forty or fifty warriors and started out for the commander's standard of the golden fan.

"I'm going to meet Ieyasu. Now!" and he started to whip his horse toward the opposite hill.

"Stop! You're not going anywhere!" a Tokugawa soldier shouted.

"Get Nagayoshi!"

"He's the man with the white hood, riding at a gallop!"

The waves of armored men that tried to stop him ran up to his side and were trampled or, approaching him, were wrapped in sprays of blood.

But then, one bullet from the driving rain of musket fire, shot from a gun that was aimed at the warrior in the white brocade coat, hit him directly between the eyes.

The white hood around Nagayoshi's head suddenly turned red. Falling back on his horse, he had one last glimpse of the sky in the Fourth Month, and in that valley, the heroic young man of twenty-six years fell to the ground, still holding the reins. Hyakudan, Nagayoshi's favorite horse, reared up and whinnied in grief.

A shout like a great sob rose up from his men as they quickly rushed to his side. Carrying his corpse on their shoulders, they withdrew to the top of Gifugadake. Men from the Tokugawa forces ran after them, fighting for the symbol of their deed, shoutin "Take his head!"

The warriors who had lost their leader were close to tears. Wheeling around with frightening expressions, they turned their spears back on their pursuers. Somehow they were able to hide Nagayoshi's body. But the news that Nagayoshi had been struck down blew like a chill wind across the entire battlefield. Along with the other tides of war that had been turning against their position, yet another disaster had befallen Shonyu's forces.

It was as though boiling water had been poured onto a hill of ants: everywhere warriors were fleeing in confusion.

"They're hardly worth calling allies!" Shonyu shouted as he climbed toward higher ground and, in contrast to the peaceful surroundings, sputtered in rage at the few soldiers he encountered. "I'm right here! Don't make a disgraceful retreat! Have you forgotten what you learned every day? Go back! Go back and fight!"

But the group of black-hooded men around him did not stop their own flight in the general collapse. On the contrary, only a pitiful young page of fifteen or sixteen approached him falteringly.

Leading up a stray horse, he offered it to his lord.

In the battle at the bottom of the hill, Shonyu's horse had been shot and he had fallen to the ground. He had been surrounded by the enemy, but had desperately cut open a path and climbed up.

"I don't need a horse anymore. Set up my camp stool here."

The page set up the camp stool behind him, and Shonyu sat down.

"Forty-eight years end here," he muttered to himself. Still looking at the page, he talked on. "You're Shirai Tango's son, aren't you? I imagine your father and mother are waiting. Run as quickly as you can to Inuyama. Look, the bullets are coming! Get out of here fast! Now!"

Having chased the teary-eyed page away, he was alone and felt free from care. Calmly he took his last look at the world.

Very soon he could hear a noise like the fighting of wild animals, and the trees shook in the crags directly beneath him. It appeared that some of his black-hooded warriors still remained and were brandishing their weapons in mortal combat.

Shonyu felt numb. It was no longer a matter of victory or defeat. The sorrow of parting from the world made him reflect on the faraway past, tinged with the scent of his mother's milk.

Suddenly the shrubs directly in front of him began to shake.

"Who is it!" Shonyu's eyes shone with rage. "Is it the enemy?" he called out. His voice was so calm that the approaching Tokugawa warrior unconsciously stepped back in shock.

Shonyu called out again, pressing the man further. "Are you one of the enemy? If you are, take my head and you'll achieve a great deed. The man who is speaking now is Ikeda Shonyu."

Tle warrior crouching down in the thick undergrowth raised his head and looked at Shonyu sitting there. He shuddered for a moment and then spoke in an arrogant voice as he stood up.

"Well, I've encountered a good one here. I am Nagai Denpachiro of the Tokugawa clan. Prepare yourself!" he shouted, and thrust out his spear.

In response to his shout, quick resistance from the sword of the famous fierce general have been expected, but Denpachiro's spear slid deeply into his opponent's side without any trouble at all. Rather than Shonyu, whose side had been pierced through, it was Denpachiro who tumbled forward from the momentum of his excessive force.

Shonyu fell over, the spearpoint protruding from his back.

"Take my head!" he yelled again.

He did not have his long sword in his hand even now. On his own he had invited his death, on his own he was offering his head. Denpachiro had been in an arrogant trance, but when he was suddenly aware of the feelings of this enemy general and the way he was meeting his final moments, he was struck with a violent emotion that made him want to weep.

"Ah!" he cried out, but then was so beside himself with joy at his unexpected great achievement that he forgot what to do next.

Just then he heard the rustling sounds of his allies fighting to be the first to climb up from beneath the crags.

"I'm Ando Hikobei! Prepare yourself."

"My name is Uemura Denemon!"

"I'm Hachiya Shichibei of the Tokugawa clan!"

Each announced his name as they competed to be the one to take Shonyu's head.

By whose sword had the head been taken? Their b.l.o.o.d.y hands grabbed the topknot and swung it around.

"I took the head of Ikeda Shonyu!" yelled Nagai Denpachiro.

"No, I took it!" cried Ando Hikobei.

"Shonyu's head is mine!" Uemura Denemon shouted.

A storm of blood, a storm of violent voices, a storm of selfish desire for fame. Four men, five men-a growing cl.u.s.ter of warriors, with the single head at its center, set off the direction of Ieyasu's campstool.

"Shonyu has been killed!"

That shout became a wave that went from the peaks to the marsh and caused the Tokugawa forces all over the battlefield to bellow with joy.