It was then that Mitsuhide received the news that the Hosokawa clan had refused join him. He had been convinced that Hosokawa Tadaoki, his son-in-law, would be quick to follow him once n.o.bunaga had been overthrown. But the response carried back from the Hosokawa clan had been an angry refusal. So far Mitsuhide had been absorbed by question of who would be his allies; he had given little thought to who would be his strongest enemy.

It was only then that Hideyoshi's existence struck Mitsuhide like a blow to the chest. He had not overlooked Hideyoshi's abilities and his military strength in the west. On contrary, he knew that Hideyoshi was an immense threat. What gave Mitsuhide a little peace of mind was his belief that Hideyoshi was pinned down by the Mori and would be unable to return quickly. He thought that at least one of the two messengers he had sent to the Mori had accomplished his mission. And, no doubt, the Mori's response would arrive soon, informing him that they had attacked Hideyoshi and destroyed him. But nothing was heard from the Mori, nor was there any response from Nakagawa Sebei, Ikeda Shonyu, and Takayama Ukon. The news that reached Mitsuhide instead each morning sounded like a judgment from heaven.

For Mitsuhide, Sakamoto Castle held vivid memories of recent events: his humiliation by n.o.bunaga; his departure from Azuchi in a rage; his stay at Sakamoto where had stood at the crossroads of doubt. Now there was no more doubt, no more resentment. And at the same time, he had lost all of his powers of self-examination. He had exchanged his true intelligence for the empty t.i.tle of ruler of the nation.

On the night of the ninth, Mitsuhide still had no idea where Hideyoshi was, but the att.i.tudes of the local lords made him feel uneasy. On the following morning he left his camp at Shimo Toba and climbed up to Horagamine Pa.s.s in Yamashiro, at which place he had arranged to join with Tsutsui Junkei's army.

"Has Tsutsui Junkei been sighted yet?" Mitsuhide asked his lookouts at regular intervals during the day.

Because Mitsuhide had been in collusion with Tsutsui Junkei before the attack on the Honno Temple, he had never had cause to doubt his ally's loyalty-until now. At nightfall there was still no sign of the Tsutsui forces. Not only that, but the three Oda retainers he had hoped to win over to his side-Nakagawa Sebei, Takayama Ukon, and Ikeda Shonyu-had not responded to his urgent summonses, even though they were nominally under his command.

Mitsuhide's uneasiness was not unjustified. He consulted with Saito Toshimitsu. "Do you think something's wrong, Toshimitsu?"

Mitsuhide wanted to believe that something had happened to the messengers he had sent, or that Junkei and the others were merely delayed, but Saito Toshimitsu had already faced up to the truth.

"No, my lord," the old man replied. "I suspect Lord Tsutsui has no intention of coming. There's no reason for him to be so late traveling the level roads from Koriyama."

"No, there must be some reason," Mitsuhide insisted. He summoned Fujita Dengo, quickly wrote up a letter, and sent him to Koriyama. "Take the best horses. If you ride at top speed, you should be able to come back by morning."

"If Lord Tsutsui will talk with me, I'll be back at dawn," Dengo said.

"There's no reason why he shouldn't talk with you. Get an answer from him even if it's late at night."

"Yes, my lord."

Dengo immediately set off for Koriyama. Before he was able to return, however, scouts arrived with reports that Hideyoshi's forces were moving eastward and that the vanguard had already come as far as the neighboring province of Hyogo.

"Impossible! It must be a mistake!" Mitsuhide burst out when he heard the news. He could not believe that Hideyoshi had been able to make peace with the Mori, and, even if he had, that he could have moved his large army so quickly.

"I don't think this is a false report, my lord," Toshimitsu said, once again intuiting the truth. "In any event, I think we should determine a counterstrategy at once."

Perceiving that Mitsuhide was wavering, Toshimitsu rejoined with a concrete proposal. "If I were to wait for Lord Tsutsui here, you, my lord, could hasten to stop Hideyoshi from entering the capital."

"There isn't much hope that Tsutsui will come, is there?" Mitsuhide finally admitted.

"I think there are only one or two chances in ten of his joining your side, my lord."

"What strategy do you suggest for stopping Hideyoshi?"

"The only view we can take is that Ukon, Sebei, and Shonyu are already in league with Hideyoshi. If Tsutsui Junkei has joined him as well, our military strength will be insufficient to take the initiative and attack him. In my estimation, however, it will take Hideyoshi another five or six days to get his whole army here. During that time, if we reinforced the two castles at Yodo and Shoryuji, built forts along the north-south road to Kyoto, and mustered all the forces in Omi and the other areas, we might be able to hold him off temporarily."

"What? All of that would only stop him temporarily?"

"After that, we'll need a far grander strategy-going far beyond small local battles. But right now we're in a critical situation. You should leave immediately."

Toshimitsu waited for Fujita Dengo to return from his mission in Koriyama.

He arrived with anger stamped all over his brow. "It's no good," he said to Toshimitsu. "That b.a.s.t.a.r.d Junkei has also betrayed us. He made up some excuse for not coming here, but on the way back I discovered that he's been in contact with Hideyoshi. To think that a man who was so close to the Akechi clan would be capable of this!"

Dengo's abuse was unending, but Toshimitsu's lined face showed no emotion at all.

Mitsuhide left at about noon, having accomplished nothing. He arrived back at Shimo Toba about the same time that Hideyoshi was enjoying a short nap in Amagasaki. The heat on this day was the same at both the Zen temple in Amagasaki and the camp at Shimo Toba. As soon as Mitsuhide arrived back in camp, he met with his generals at headquarters and discussed battle strategy. He still did not realize that Hideyoshi was already within shouting distance at Amagasaki. Although Hideyoshi's vanguard was already moving into position, Mitsuhide judged that it would take several more days Hideyoshi himself to arrive. It would not be right to attribute this mistake to his intellect. He had simply made a judgment based on common sense, using his own uncommon intelligence. Moreover, this particular judgment was in harmony with what everyoneelse deemed logical as well.

The conference had been completed without any waste of time, and Akechi Shigetomo was the first to leave. He immediately rode to Yodo to begin emergency construction work to strengthen the castle. The narrow mountain road to the capital would surely be a focus for the enemy a.s.sault. Yodo Castle was on its right, Shoryuji Castle on its left.

Mitsuhide issued an order to the divisions that had been deployed along the banks of the Yodo River: "Pull back to Shoryuji and take up defensive positions. Prepare for an enemy attack."

Mitsuhide made his preparations, but when he calculated the size of the enemy army, he could not completely relinquish his perception of his own weakness. A considerable number of soldiers had been gathering here from the capital and the surrounding area, putting themselves under his command throughout the day. But they were all low-ranking samurai or ronin -little better than mercenaries looking for a quick way to rise in the world. Not one of them had any military ability or the resources to lead.

"How many men have we got in all?" Mitsuhide asked his generals.

Counting the troops at Azuchi, Sakamoto, Shoryuji, Horagamine, and Yodo, Mitsuhide's forces numbered about sixteen thousand men.

"If only Hosokawa and Tsutsui would join me," Mitsuhide mumbled, "no one could dislodge me from the capital." Even after he had decided his strategy, he was troubled by the sizeable difference in the numbers of troops. Mitsuhide's brain worked in terms of calculations, and now there was not even a flicker of hope that he would have the advantage. Moreover, somewhere a tiny wisp of fear was finding its way into his consciousness. That in itself could make the difference between victory and defeat. He was beginning to sink beneath the waves that he himself had created.

Mitsuhide stood on the hill outside of camp, staring up at the clouds.

"Looks like rain," he muttered this into a wind that showed little sign of rain at all. It was essential for a general who was soon to engage in a battle to be aware of the weather. Mitsuhide stood and worried about the movement of the clouds and the direction of the wind for a long while.

Finally he looked down at the Yodo River. The small lights that swayed in the wind must have been those of his own patrol boats. The undulating line of the large river appeared to be white, while the mountains beyond were pitch black.

The broad sky stretched over the river, and to the faraway estuary of the sea at Amagasaki. As Mitsuhide's eyes stared in that direction, almost as though they were sending out shafts of light, he asked himself, What is Hideyoshi capable of? Then he called out in a harsh tone that he rarely employed, "Sakuza! Sakuza! Where is Sakuzaemon?"

He turned quickly and walked back to camp with long strides. A dark and violent wind was shaking the barracks like a huge wave.

"Yes, my lord! Yojiro is here!" an attendant answered, running out to meet him.

"Yojiro, the call to arms. We're marching out right away."

While the army was striking camp, Mitsuhide sent urgent dispatches to all his commanders, including his cousin Mitsuharu in Sakamoto Castle, informing them of his decision. He was not going to retreat and fight a defensive campaign. He had resolved to attack Hideyoshi with all his strength.

It was the second watch of the night. Not a single star was visible. A combat unit was the first to descend the hill; it was to stand guard at the upper and lower reaches of the Katsura River. The supply corps, the main units, and the rear guard came down behind them. A sudden shower began to fall. By the time the entire army was halfway across the river, pure white rain was beating down on it.

The wind came up as well-a cold wind from the northwest. The foot soldiers muttered to themselves as they stared at the dark surface of the river.

"Both the river and the wind are coming at us from the mountains of Tamba."

During the day, they might have been able to see. Oinosaka was not far away, and it was only ten days before that they had crossed Oinosaka and left the Akechi base at Kameyama Castle. To the men, however, it felt like something that had happened several years ago.

"Don't fall! Don't let your fuses get wet!" the officers yelled. The force of the current in the Katsura River was far more violent than usual, due probably to a heavy rainfall in the mountains.

The spear corps crossed, each man holding on to the spear of the man in front of him, followed by the gunners, who grasped each other's stocks and muzzles. The hors.e.m.e.n surrounding Mitsuhide galloped up the opposite bank, leaving a trail of froth and bubbles. From somewhere in front of them, the dull sound of sporadic gunfire could be heard, while in the distance sparks leaped into the sky, probably from burning farmhouses. As soon as the gunfire stopped, however, the fires also disappeared and everything returned to darkness.

A runner soon arrived with a report. "Our men have driven back an enemy reconnaissance party. They set several farmhouses alight as they retreated."

Taking no notice of this report, Mitsuhide advanced through Kuga Nawate, pa.s.sed by Shoryuji Castle, which was held by his own men, and purposefully made his camp at Onbozuka, some five or six hundred yards farther to the southwest. The rain that had plagued them for the last two or three days now ceased, and stars began to glitter in a sky that had previously displayed nothing but different shades of ink.

The enemy is quiet too, Mitsuhide thought as he stood at Onbozuka, staring into the dark in the direction of Yamazaki. He felt deep emotion and tension at the thought that Hideyoshi's army was facing him from a distance of barely half a league. Making Onbozuka the focal point of his entire force, and using the Shoryuji Castle as his supply base, he deployed his troops in a line from the Yodo River in the southwest to the Enmyoji River, as though opening up a fan. By the time each corps of the advance guard had gotten into position, it was almost dawn and the outline of the long, flowing Yodo River was beginning to become visible.

Suddenly the echo of violent gunfire could be heard in the direction of Tennozan. The sun had not yet risen, and the clouds were dark with thick mist. It was the thirteenth day of the Sixth Month, and so early that not even the whinnying of a single horse could be heard on the road to Yamazaki.

Looking out from Mitsuhide's main camp at Onbozuka, the soldiers could see Tennozan about half a league to the southwest. Hugging its left side was the road to Yamazaki and a large river-the Yodo.

Tennozan was steep, about nine hundred feet at its highest point. On the day before, when Hideyoshi's main army had advanced as far as Tonda, his officers had all looked straight ahead and stared at the mountain. Several of them had questioned the local guide. "What mountain is that?"

"Is that Yamazaki in the eastern foothills?"

"The enemy is at Shoryuji. Where is that in relation to Tennozan?"

Every corps had to be accompanied by someone who was familiar with the lay of the land. Everyone who understood strategy knew that the side that controlled the high ground would win the day.

And every general was also aware that the first man who planted his banner onTennozan would win more glory than the one who took the first head on the plain. Each general had sworn that he would be that man. On the eve of the thirteenth, several of Hideyoshi's generals had asked him to adopt their plan of attack, and hoped they would be given the order to storm the mountain.

"Tomorrow will be the decisive battle," Hideyoshi said. "Yodo, Yamazaki, and Tennozan will be the main battlefields. Prove yourselves worthy of being called men. Don't compete with one another, or think only of your own glory. Remember that Lord n.o.bunaga and the G.o.d of war will be looking down on you from heaven."

But as soon as they received Hideyoshi's permission, the gunners raced toward Tennozan in high spirits and in a disorganized melee in the dead of night. This strategic place that had attracted the eyes of all of Hideyoshi's generals had not been overlooked by Mitsuhide. He had decided to march at full speed, cross the Katsura River, and come out quickly at Onbozuka to take Tennozan.

Mitsuhide knew the topography of the area as well as did the generals of the enemy vanguard, Nakagawa Sebei and Takayama Ukon. And, although they were looking at the mountains and rivers of the same area, Mitsuhide's mind naturally went beyond the thoughts of the other men.

After Mitsuhide had crossed the Katsura River and marched through Kuga Nawate, he detached one division from his army and sent them on another route, saying, "Climb up the northern side of Tennozan and take the mountaintop. If the enemy attacks, make a stand and don't give up that strategic point."

It must be said that he was quick. Mitsuhide's commands and his actions were always timely; he never missed an opportunity to strike. Nevertheless, by this time Hideyoshi's forces, which had already reached Hirose on the southern slope, were also on the mountain.

It had been pitch black, however, and many of the soldiers were not at all familiar with the terrain.

"Here's a path going up."

"No, you can't go through that way."

"Yes, I think we can."

"This is the wrong way. There's a crag right above us."

Winding their way around the foot of the mountain, they all made haste to find a path to the top.

The path was steep, and it was still dark. Because they knew they were among allies, the men filed up without knowing whose unit or corps they were with. They simply hurried, huffing and puffing, to the summit. Then, just as they thought they were nearing the top, they were struck by a volley of gunfire.

The attack had come from the Akechi gunners under Matsuda Tarozaemon. It was clear afterward that the seven hundred men in the Matsuda corps had been divided into two units. The soldiers of Horio Mosuke, Nakagawa Sebei, Takayama Ukon, and Ikeda Shonyu had all scrambled to be first to climb up Tennozan, but it was only Hori Kyutaro who commanded his troops to take the crossroad up to the north side of the foothills. Quickly skirting the base of the mountain, they attempted a completely different action: to cut off the retreat of the enemy.

As expected, that lateral attack intercepted the Matsuda corps and placed its general, Matsuda Tarozaemon, right before their eyes. The collision was far more violent than the clash at the top of the mountain. Fighting was hand to hand amidst the pines and boulders strewn along the mountain slope. Firearms were too c.u.mbersome, so the battle was fought mainly with spears, long swords, and halberds.

Some fell from the cliffs grappling with the enemy. Some who held down enemy soldiers were stabbed from behind. There were corps of archers as well and the singing of arrows and reports of the guns were incessant. But far louder were the war cries of the five or six hundred men. Those cries did not seem to be coming from the throats of individual men but from their entire beings, even from their hair and pores.

The men advanced and were pushed back, and at last the sun began to rise. A blue sky and white clouds were visible for the first time in a long while. With the rare sunshine, the cicadas seemed to have been struck dumb. In their place were the war cries of the soldiers shaking the mountain. Very quickly, bloodied corpses lay strewn over the slopes, piled atop one another. One body might be lying pathetically alone in one spot, while two or three might have fallen on top of each other in another place. The warriors were spurred by the sight of the corpses, and the soldiers who stepped over the dead bodies of their comrades entered a s.p.a.ce beyond life and death. This was true for the soldiers of the Hori corps as well as for the men of the Akechi.

The situation at the top of the mountain was unclear, but here too a victory might be followed quickly by a defeat. During the fighting, the cries that issued from the Matsuda corps suddenly changed and became like the sounds a crying child makes between sobs. Optimism had changed to despair.

"What's the matter?"

"Why are we falling back? Don't retreat!"

Questioning their comrades' confusion, some of the men of the Matsuda corps yelled out in anger. But those men, too, quickly ran toward the foot of the mountain as though carried by an avalanche. Their commanding general, Matsuda Tarozaemon, had been struck by a bullet and carried away on the shoulders of his attendants in full view of his troops.

"Attack! Cut them down!"

The greater part of the Hori corps had already started out in pursuit, but Kyuta yelled at the top of his voice, trying to stop his men.

"Don't pursue them!"

In the impetus of the moment, however, the command for restraint had little effect. As might have been expected, the vanguard of the Matsuda corps now came cascading down the mountain like a muddy stream. Reinforcements had not come, and their general had been shot. They had no choice but to flee.

The Hori corps had been no match for the Akechi in terms of numbers. Now, without a real battle and with nothing to check them, they were thrust down the mountain and crushed underfoot by a corps of the enemy that came running down the steep slope from above. The section of the Hori corps that had pursued the enemy down the mountain first was now caught in a pincer movement just as Kyutaro had feared, and an appalling battle ensued.

At that point, the combined forces of the Horio, Nakagawa, Takayama, and Ikeda corps reached the top of the mountain.

"We've won!"

"Tennozan is ours!"

The battle's first victory cheer was raised. Hideyoshi had been waiting for n.o.butaka's arrival at the Yodo River, and so he had not yet arrived at the front line. It was late in the afternoon, about the Hour of the Ram, by the time he had added the forces of n.o.butaka and Niwa Nagahide to his own army and advanced to the central camp. The morning rain had dried up under the hot sky, both men and horses were covered with sweat and dust, and the colorful armor and coats had all turned white. The only article that penetrated the hot day with any brilliance was Hideyoshi's standard of the golden gourds.

While there were still echoes of gunfire on Tennozan, every house in the village had seemed empty. When the Akechi forces retreated and the new tide of armor flooded the streets, however, pails of water, piles of melons, and kettles of barley tea suddenly appeared on every doorstep. As Hideyoshi's forces crowded through the streets, even women appeared among the crowd of villagers, wishing them well.

"Not a single enemy soldier's left over there?"

Hideyoshi did not dismount, but simply gazed steadily at the banners of his soldiers, now visible on the nearby mountain.

"Not one," Hikoemon replied. He had coordinated all the reports on battle conditions from the various corps, judged the general situation, and now reported to Hideyoshi. "The Matsuda corps lost its commander at the very outset of the attack. Some of his men fled toward the northern foothills, while the others joined their allies in the neighborhood of Tomooka."

"I wonder why someone like Mitsuhide would abandon this high ground so quickly."

"He probably didn't think we would arrive so soon. He was mistaken in his timing."

"What about his main force?"

"They seem to have camped in the area from the Yodo River to Shimoueno, with Shoryuji at their rear and the Enmyoji River in front of them."

At that moment war cries and gunfire could be heard in the direction of the Enmyoji River. It was the Hour of the Monkey.

The Enmyoji River, east of the village of Yamazaki, was a confluent of the Yodo River. The area where the two rivers met was a swamp covered with reeds and rushes, usually filled with the songs of bush warblers, but on this day no birdsong could be heard.

During the morning the enemy armies-the left wing of Mitsuhide's army and Hideyoshi's right wing-had lined the riverbanks on either side. From time to time the reeds would rustle in the wind. While the tips of the banner poles were visible, no men or horses could be seen on either bank. On the northern bank, however, the five thousand men under Saito Toshimitsu, Abe Sadaaki, and Akechi Shigetomo were ready to advance. On the southern bank, eight thousand five hundred men under Takayama Ukon, Nakagawa Sebei, and Ikeda Shonyu were arranged in one line after another. Steaming with sweat in that hot, damp place, they waited for the time to strike.

They were waiting for Hideyoshi to arrive and give his command.

"What is the main army doing?"

They cursed Hideyoshi's army for its late arrival, but they could only grit their teeth.