"That I should be the only one among my lord's many retainers to witness the most important dance of his lifetime is good fortune far beyond my lowly position. Still, I would ask permission to sing my own farewell to this world."

"You can sing? Good. Sai, from the beginning." The lady-in-waiting was silent and dropped her head a little with the drum. Nagato had realized that when n.o.bunaga had said dance, he meant Atsumori.

To think that a man Has but fifty years to live under heaven.

Surely this world Is nothing but a vain dream.

Living but one life, Is there anything that does not decay?

As Nagato chanted, his many years of service, dating from n.o.bunaga's youth, unfolded in his mind. The minds of the dancer and the singer became one. Sai's tears shone in the lamplight on her white face while she beat the hand drum. She played it with more skill and intensity than usual that morning.

n.o.bunaga threw down his fan and called out, "It's death!" As he donned his armor he said, "Sai, if you hear that I've been killed, set the castle on fire immediately. Burn it until there's nothing left to see."

She put down the drum, and with her palms together on the floor, she replied, "Yes, my lord," without raising her head.

"Nagato! Blow the conch!" n.o.bunaga turned toward the inner citadel, where his lovely daughters lived, then to the mortuary tablets of his ancestors. "Farewell," he said with intense emotion. The he fastened the cords of his helmet and ran out.

The conch calling the troops to battle sounded in the quiet of the predawn darkness. The light of tiny stars shone brilliantiy through the rifts in the clouds.

"Lord n.o.bunaga is going to war!" Word was carried by an attendant, surprising the samurai who ran into him in their hurry.

The men who worked in the kitchens and the warriors who were too old to fight and would stay to guard the castle rushed to the gate to see their comrades off. To count them would have been a fair estimate of the men left in Kiyosu Castle-less than forty or fifty. This was how short of men they were, both inside the castle and riding with n.o.bunaga.

The horse that n.o.bunaga rode that day was called Tsukinowa. At the gate, the rustling of the young leaves could be heard in the dark wind, and lights flickered in the lanterns. n.o.bunaga leaped up onto the horse, into a mother-of-pearl saddle, and galloped to the main gate, the ta.s.sels of his armor and his long sword jangling as he rode.

Those staying behind in the castle forgot themselves and shouted as they prostrated themselves. n.o.bunaga spoke a few words of farewell to these old men who had served him for so many years. He felt sorry for these warriors and for his daughters, who were losing both a castle and a master. Without his being aware of it, n.o.bunaga's eyes moistened with tears.

In the time it had taken n.o.bunaga to shut his hot eyelids, Tsukinowa had already galloped like a squall out of the castle, into the dawn.

"My lord!"

"My lord!"

"Wait!"

Master and attendants were no more than six mounted men. And as usual, his retainers strained to keep from being left behind. n.o.bunaga did not look back. The enemy was to the east; their allies were also on the front lines. By the time they reached the place where they would die, the sun would already be high in the sky. As he galloped along, n.o.bunaga thought that, from the perspective of eternity, to be born in this province and to return to its soil meant nothing.

"Ho!"

"My lord!" someone suddenly called out from a crossroads in the town.

"Yoshinari?" he shouted back.

"Yes, my lord."

"And Katsuie?"

"Here, my lord!"

"You were quick!" n.o.bunaga praised them and asked, standing up in his stirrups, how many are you?"

"A hundred twenty mounted men under Mori Yoshinari, and eighty under Shibata Katsuie, so altogether about two hundred. We held back to accompany you."

Among the archers under Yoshinari was Mataemon, and Tokichiro was also there in the throng, at the head of thirty foot soldiers.

n.o.bunaga noticed him at once. Monkey's here, too. From horseback, he surveyed the hundred excited soldiers. I have followers like this, he thought, and his eyes brightened. To strike at the raging waves of an enemy forty thousand strong, his own soldiers were no more than a small ship or a handful of sand. But n.o.bunaga was bold enough to ask himself, I wonder if Yoshimoto has followers like this. He was proud, both as a general and as a man. Even if they were defeated, his men would not have died in vain. They were going to make their mark on this earth as they dug their own graves. "It's nearly dawn. Let's go!" n.o.bunaga pointed ahead.

When his horse galloped down the Atsuta Road to the east, the two hundred soldiers moved on like a cloud, stirring up the morning mist that stood as high as the eaves of the houses on both sides of the road. There was neither order nor rank. It was every man for himself. Ordinarily, when the lord of a province went to war, the commoners all stopped their work, swept the fronts of the houses, and saw the troops off. The soldiers marched by, displaying their banners and standards. The commander himself showed off his authority and power. And they marched to the battlefield, six steps to the drumbeat, with all the splendor and power that the province could muster. But n.o.bunaga was completely indifferent to such empty posturing. They dashed ahead so quickly that they could not fall into orderly ranks.

They were going to fight to the death. With an att.i.tude that seemed to shout, "Whoever is coming, come on!" n.o.bunaga took the lead. There were no stragglers. On the contrary, as they advanced, their numbers swelled. As the call to arms had been sudden, those who were not ready in time now rushed to join them from the side streets and alleys, or caught up with them from behind.

The sounds of their footsteps and voices awoke those who still slept through the early hours of the dawn. Along the road, farmers, merchants, and artisans opened their doors, and sleepy-eyed people yelled out, "A battle!"

They may have guessed later that the man who had galloped in the lead in the morning mist was their lord, Oda n.o.bunaga. But n.o.body saw now.

"Nagato! Nagato!" n.o.bunaga turned in the saddle, but Nagato was not there; he was about fifty yards behind in the melee. Those who were coming up behind-their horses neck-and-neck-were Katsuie and Yoshinari. More men had joined them at the entrance of Atsuta.

"Katsuie!" n.o.bunaga yelled. "We'll see the great gate of the shrine soon. Stop the troops out in front. Even I am not going to go without saying a prayer." Almost as he spoke, he pulled up to the great gate. He jumped nimbly to the ground, and the waiting head priest, with some twenty attendants, rushed forward and took the reins of his horse.

"Thank you for coming out to meet me. I've come to say a prayer." The head priest led the way. The approach to the shrine, lined with cryptomeria trees, was damp with little droplets of mist. The head priest stood by the sacred spring, and invited n.o.bunaga to purify himself. n.o.bunaga took the cypress-wood ladle, washed his hands, and rinsed his mouth. Then he took one more ladleful and drank it down in one gulp.

"Look! A good omen!" n.o.bunaga looked up and spoke loudly enough for his troops to hear him. He pointed to the sky. Dawn had finally broken. The branches of an old cryptomeria tree had taken a reddish hue from the morning sun, and a flock of crows was cawing loudly. "The sacred crows!" The samurai around n.o.bunaga looked up with him.

In the meantime the head priest, also in full armor, had climbed to the holy of holies. n.o.bunaga sat on a mat. The priest brought sake on a small wooden stand and served it in an unglazed earthenware cup. n.o.bunaga drained the cup, clapped his hands loudly, and said his prayer to the G.o.ds. His men bowed their heads low, closing their eyes as they prayed, so that their hearts could become mirrors that would reflect the images of the G.o.ds.

By the time n.o.bunaga left Atsuta Shrine, the soldiers who had been running up to join him had swelled the number of his army to nearly a thousand. n.o.bunaga left the shrine by its southern gate and remounted his horse. n.o.bunaga had come to Atsuta like a gale, but leaving now, he slowed to a much more leisurely pace. He swayed as he rode sidesaddle, with his hands holding the front and rear rings of the saddle.

Dawn had already broken, and the villagers of Atsuta, including women and children, stood in front of their houses and at the crossroads to look, drawn by the sound of the horses' hooves that raced one another for first place.

When they realized it was n.o.bunaga, they all looked amazed and whispered among themselves: "Is he really going into battle?"

"Can this be true?"

"They haven't got one chance in ten thousand."

He had ridden from Kiyosu to Atsuta at a single stretch, so he was now saddlesore. Riding sidesaddle and leaning back a little, he hummed to himself.

When the army came to the crossroads on the outskirts of the town, it suddenly stopped. Black smoke was rising in two places from the direction of Marune and Washizu. A sad look appeared on n.o.bunaga's face. The two fortresses must have fallen. He took a deep breath, then spoke quickly to his retainers. "We won't follow the coastal road. The morning tide is high right now, so it will be useless to take that route. We'll take the hill road to the fortress at Tange." Dismounting, he said to a retainer, "Call the headmen of Atsuta."

The man turned to the crowd lining the roads and yelled loudly enough to be heard, Soldiers were sent to search for the headmen. Before long, two of them were brought before n.o.bunaga.

"You've seen me quite often, so I'm not much of a rarity. But today I'm going to treat you to a rare sight: the head with blackened teeth of the lord of Suruga. You've never seen it, but you will see it today, because you were born in my province of Owari. Just go up to some high place and watch this great battle.

"Go around Atsuta and tell the people to collect festival banners and streamers and to make them look like flags and banners to the enemy. Put red and white or any color cloth on tree branches and on the tops of hills, and fill the sky with fluttering streamers. Do you understand?"

When the horses had advanced about half a league and he turned to look, innumerable flags and banners were fluttering all over Atsuta. It looked as though a huge army from Kiyosu had set out as far as the town and was resting there.

It was oppressively hot, hotter than it had been for many years in early summer-as the old men would later recall. The sun climbed high and the horses trampled earth that had not seen rain for ten days. The army was covered with dust as it marched.

Life or death-along with his reins, n.o.bunaga held them in his hands as he galloped onward. To the soldiers, n.o.bunaga looked either like a gallant herald of death or a leader of hope for a greater life. Regardless of which view one took, or the final result, belief in its leader ran through the entire army as it followed behind this man without complaint.

To the death. To the death. To the death.

This was the only thing in Tokichiro's mind, too. Even if he hadn't wanted to go forward, since everyone around him was marching along, it was like being swallowed up in billowing waves, and there was no time for his feet to stop. Even if it wasn't of much account, he was the leader of thirty foot soldiers and so could not indulge in complaining, matter how bad the situation.

To the death. To the death.

The stipends of the foot soldiers were so low that they were just enough to allow their families to survive. And the soundless, desperate voice that panted in their bellies echoed in Tokichiro's belly. Could people really just toss their lives away like this? Certainly, that seemed to be what was happening, and it suddenly struck Tokichiro that he was serving an absurd general. He had had such great expectations when he had first sought out n.o.bunaga, and now the man seemed to be sending his soldiers-Tokichiro among them- flying bravely to their deaths. He thought of all the things he still wanted to do in this world, and of his mother in Nakamura.

These things flitted across Tokichiro's mind, but they came and were gone in an instant. The sound of a thousand pairs of marching feet and the clanging of sun-scorched armor seemed to say, Die! Die!

The soldier's faces were burned by the sun, drenched in sweat, and covered with dust. And although it was possible to detect Tokichiro's carefree character, even in this desperate situation, today he was thinking along with the others, Fight! To the death!

The soldiers advanced, ready to sacrifice their lives. As they marched over one hill after another, they drew closer to the swirling clouds of smoke they had seen earlier.

The vanguard had just reached the top of a hill when a blood-smeared, wounded man stumbled toward them, screaming something they couldn't quite hear.

He was a retainer of Sak.u.ma Daigaku who had escaped from Marune. Taken before n.o.bunaga and breathing heavily because of his wounds, he pulled himself together and made his report: "Lord Sak.u.ma met a manly death in the flames set on all sides by the enemy, and Lord Iio was struck down gloriously during the battle at Washizu. I'm ashamed to be the last one alive, but I escaped on the order of Lord Sak.u.ma in order to inform you of what has happened. As I fled, I could hear the enemy's victory shouts, loud enough to shake heaven and earth. And nothing remains in Marune and Washizu but the enemy army."

After he had heard the report, n.o.bunaga called out, "Tohachiro." Maeda Tohachiro was still a boy and so was almost buried in the great crowd of warriors. When n.o.bunaga called him, he answered with a loud shout and approached n.o.bunaga with high-spirited manliness.

"Yes, my lord?"

"Tohachiro, give me my rosary."

Tohachiro had taken great care not to drop his master's rosary. He had wrapped it in a cloth and secured it tightly across his armor. Now he quickly untied it and held it up to n.o.bunaga. n.o.bunaga took the rosary and hung it from his own shoulder, across his chest. It was made of large silver-colored beads, and it set off his light green death robe even more magnificently.

"Ah, how sad. Both Iio and Sak.u.ma have gone on to the next world. How I wish they could have seen my exploits." n.o.bunaga straightened himself in the saddle and put his hands together in prayer.

The black smoke from Washizu and Marune scorched the sky like the smoke of a funeral pyre. The men watched in silence. n.o.bunaga stared into the distance for a moment, then suddenly turned, struck the seat of his saddle, and yelled out almost in ecstasy, "Today is the nineteenth. This day will be the anniversary of my death, as well as your own. Your stipends have been low, and you're meeting your fate as warriors today without ever having known good luck. This must be the destiny of those who serve me. But those who will follow me just one more step will be giving me their lives. Those who still have some attachment to this life may leave without shame."

The commanders and soldiers responded with one voice. "Never! Should our lord die alone?"

n.o.bunaga went on, "Then will you all give your lives to a fool like me?"

"You don't even have to ask," replied one of the generals.

n.o.bunaga gave his horse one great stroke with his whip. "Forward! The Imagawa are just ahead!" He was riding at the head of his troops, but he was hidden by the dust of the entire army galloping forward. In the dust, the indistinct form of the mounted man seemed somehow divine.

The road went through a ravine and over a low pa.s.s. As it approached the provincial border, the lay of the land became uneven.

"There it is!"

"It's Tange. The fortress of Tange," the soldiers said to one another as they gasped for breath. The fortresses of Marune and Washizu had already fallen, so they had been worried about the fate of Tange, too. Now their eyes brightened. Tange was still standing, its defenders still alive.

n.o.bunaga rode up to the fortress and said to its commander, "The defense of this little place is already useless, so we may as well let the enemy have it. The hope of our army lies elsewhere."

The garrison of Tange joined n.o.bunaga's advancing army, and they hurried without rest toward the fortress at Zenshoji. As soon as the garrison realized that n.o.bunaga was coming, they raised a shout. But it was hardly a cheer; it was more like crying and pathetic trembling.

"He's come!"

"Lord n.o.bunaga!"

n.o.bunaga was their lord, but not all of them knew what kind of general he was. It was beyond their expectations that n.o.bunaga himself had suddenly come to this isolated outpost where they had all just resolved to die. Now all of them had been given new life, and they were ready to die in front of his standard. At the same time Sa.s.sa Narimasa, who had started out in the direction of Hoshizaki and had collected a force of over three hundred mounted men, fell in with n.o.bunaga.

n.o.bunaga called the soldiers together and ordered a head count. That morning, when they had ridden out of the castle, lord and followers were a mere six or seven. Now the army numbered close to three thousand. It was announced publicly that there were at least five thousand men. n.o.bunaga considered the fact that this was really the entire army of his domain, which covered half the province of Owari. With neither garrisons nor reserves, these men made up the entire strength of the Oda.

A satisfied smile came to his lips. The forty thousand men of the Imagawa forces were now within hailing distance, and to spy on their lineup and morale, the Oda troops concealled their flags and banners and viewed the situation from the edge of the mountain.

Asano Mataemon's corps had gathered together on the northern slope, a little apart from the main army. Although they were archers, the battle today would not call for bows and arrows, so his men carried spears. The small group of thirty foot soldiers led by Tokichiro was also with them, and when the commander ordered the men to rest, Tokichiro pa.s.sed on the order to his own men.

They responded by taking deep breaths and falling onto the gra.s.s in the mountain's de.

Tokichiro rubbed his sweaty face with a dirty towel. "Hey! Would somebody hold my spear?" His subordinates had just sat down, but one of them yelled, "Yes, sir," and got up and took the spear. Then, when Tokichiro started to walk off, the man followed from behind.

"You don't have to come."

"Where are you going, sir?"

"I don't need any help. I'm going to relieve myself, and it's not going to smell too good." With a laugh, he disappeared into some shrubbery along the narrow cliff road, Perhaps thinking that Tokichiro had been joking, his subordinate stood for a while and gazed in the direction in which he had gone.

Tokichiro went a little way down the southern slope, looking around until he found a suittable spot. He untied his bellyband and squatted down. The troops had left so fast that morning that he had barely had enough time to put on his armor, and had certainly had no time to go to relieve himself. And even while they hurried from Kiyosu to Atsuta and Tange, if they stopped somewhere to rest, his first thoughts were to relieve himself just like in everyday life. Thus it was now very satisfying to be taking care of his bodily needs under a clear blue sky.

But even here, the rules of the battlefield allowed for no negligence. Very often, when armies confronted each other, enemy patrols would travel far from their camps, and when they discovered someone emptying his bowels, they would shoot him half in fun. So Tokichiro was unable to be completely at peace while gazing up at the sky. Looking toward the foot of the mountain, he could see that the river meandered like a sash, flowing to the sea at the Chita Peninsula. He could also see the single white road that wound its way south along the river's eastern bank.

Washizu was in the mountainous area north of the road and had probably already burned to the ground. In the fields and villages he could see the many little antike forms of men and horses. "There's certainly a lot of them."

It might have been because Tokichiro was a part of the army of a small province, but when he saw the scale of the enemy, the cliched phrase "like the clouds and mist" naturally came to mind. And when he considered that this army was just one part of the enemy force, he was not surprised that n.o.bunaga had resolved to die. But no, this wasn't just another man's affair. Emptying his bowels was probably the last thing he was going to do in this world.

Men are strange. I wonder if I'll still be alive tomorrow? While he was brooding on such things, Tokichiro was suddenly aware that someone was coming up the mountain from the marsh below.

The enemy? Being close to a battlefield, this was an intuitive, almost instinctive reaction, and now he wondered if this might be an enemy scout, trying to get behind n.o.bunaga's headquarters. As Tokichiro quickly tied his sash and stood up, the face of the man who had scrambled up from the marsh suddenly met his own, and the two men stood staring straight at each other.

"Tokichiro!"

"Inuchiyo!"

"What are you doing here?"

"What are you doing?"

"I heard that Lord n.o.bunaga had marched out and is resolved to die, and I've come to die with him."

"I'm glad you came." With a lump in his throat, Tokichiro extended his hand to his old friend. Countless emotions were enveloped within the men's clasped hands. Inuchiyo's armor was splendid. From the lacquered feathering to the lacing, it was new and glittered brilliantly. A banner with a plum-blossom crest was attached to his back.

"You cut a fine figure," Tokichiro said with admiration. Suddenly, he fhought about Nene, whom he had left behind. But he forced his thoughts to return to Inuchiyo. "Where were you until now?"

"I was waiting for the right time."