Summer turned to fall. One day Hikoemon came with a message for Hanbei, requesting that Oyu become a lady-in-waiting for Hideyoshi's mother. When Oyu heard the request, she shrank in fear. She burst into tears. That was her answer to Hideyoshi's request.
A tea bowl that has no imperfections is said to be lacking in beauty, and Hideyoshi's character, too, was not without blemish. Though the elegance of a tea bowl, or even human frailty itself, may be interesting to contemplate, from a woman's point of view this flaw cannot be "interesting" at all. When his sister broke into tears just at the mention of the matter, Hanbei thought her refusal was reasonable, and conveyed it to Hikoemon.
Autumn, too, passed without incident. In Gifu, the principle of "being a friendly neighbor and planning for the future" was put into practice. For the Oda clan, the Takeda of Kai had always been a threat at the rear. Arrangements were soon made for Nobunaga's daughter to be married to Takeda Shingen's son, Katsuyori. The bride was a young girl of thirteen and an incomparable beauty. She had been adopted, however, and was not one of Nobunaga's natural daughters. Nevertheless, after the marriage ceremony, it seemed that Shingen was extraordinarily pleased with her, and the union was soon blessed with a son, Taro.
For the time being at least, the Oda clan's northern border would have seemed to be secure, but the young bride died giving birth to Taro. Nobunaga then had his eldest son Nobutada, betrothed to Shingen's sixth daughter, to prevent the weakening of the alliance between the two provinces. He also sent a proposal of marriage ties to Tokugawa Ieyasu of Mikawa. Thus, the military alliance that already existed between the two was strengthened by family bonds. At the time of their engagement, Ieyasu's eldest son, Takechiyo, and Nobunaga's daughter were both eight years old. This policy was also used with the Sasaki clan in Omi. And so the castle at Gifu was busy with celebrations for the next two years.
* * *
The samurai's face was hidden in the shadow of a broad hat of woven sedge. He was tall, around forty years of age. Judging from his clothes and sandals, he was a wandering swordsman who had been on the road for some time. Even from behind, his body seemed to leave no opening for attack. He had just finished his midday meal, and was stepping out into a street in Gifu. He walked about, looking around, without any particular purpose. From time to time he would comment to himself how much such-and-such a place had changed.
From any spot in the town, the traveler could look up and see the towering walls of Gifu Castle. Holding the rim of his low, conical hat, he gazed at them for a while in fascination.
Suddenly a passerby, probably a merchant's wife, turned and stopped to look at him. She whispered something to the clerk accompanying her, and then hesitantly approached the swordsman. "Excuse me. It's rude of me to stop you in the street like this, but aren’t you Master Akechi's nephew?"
Caught off guard, the swordsman quickly responded, "No!" and walked off in great strides. After going ten or so steps, however, he turned and looked at the woman, who was still staring at him. That's Shunsai the armorer's daughter, he thought. She must be married by now.
He wound his way through the streets. Two hours later he was near the Nagara River. He sat down on the grassy riverbank and gazed at the water. He could have stayed there forever. The reeds rustled in desolate whispers under a pale, chilly autumn sun.
“Master Swordsman?" Someone tapped him on the shoulder.
Mitsuhide turned around to see three men—most likely a patrol of Oda samurai on police duty.
"What are you doing?" one asked casually. But the faces of the three men were tense and suspicious.
"I was tired from walking, and stopped to rest a bit," the swordsman answered calmly. "Are you from the Oda clan?" he asked, standing up and brushing the grass from his clothes.
"We are," the soldier said stiffly. "Where have you come from, and where are you going?"
"I'm from Echizen. I have a relative at the castle and have been looking for some way to get in touch."
"A retainer?"
"No."
"But didn't you just say that it was someone at the castle?"
"She's not a retainer. She's a member of the household."
"What's her name?"
"I hesitate to say it here."
"What about your name?"
"That too."
"You mean you don't want to talk in the open?"
"That's right."
"Well then, you'll have to come with us to the guardhouse."
They probably suspected him of being a spy. Just in case he was going to put up a struggle, one of the men called out toward the road, where a mounted samurai, who appeared to be their leader, and another ten foot soldiers were waiting.
"This is just what I'd hoped for. Lead on." With that, the swordsman started off quickly.
In Gifu, as in every other province, security checks at the river crossings, in the castle town, and at the borders were strict. Nobunaga had only recently moved to Gifu Castle, and with the complete change of administration and laws, the duties of the magistrates were numerous. Although some complained that the patrolling was too strict, there were still many former retainers of the deposed Saito clan in the town, and the plots of enemy provinces were often at an advanced stage.
Mori Yoshinari was well suited to the post of chief magistrate, but like any warrior, he preferred the battlefield to civilian duties. When he went back home in the evening, he would heave a sigh of relief. And he would show his wife the same weary after-work expression every night.
"A letter came for you from Ranmaru."
When he heard the name Ranmaru, Yoshinari smiled. News from the castle was one of Yoshinari's few pleasures. Ranmaru was the son he had sent as a child to serve in the castle. It was clear from the very beginning that Ranmaru would be of no real service, but he was an attractive boy and had caught Nobunaga's eye, and so he had become one of his personal attendants. Recently he had been mixing with the pages and seemed to be performing some sort of duties.
"What was the news?" Yoshinari's wife asked.
"Nothing, really. Everything is peaceful, and His Lordship is in a good mood."
"He didn't write anything about being sick?"
"No, he said he was in excellent health," Yoshinari replied.
"That boy is cleverer than most. He's probably being careful not to make his parents
worry."
"I suppose so," Yoshinari said. "But he's still a baby, and it must be a strain for him be at His Lordship's side all of the time."
"I imagine he'd like to come home from time to time and be spoiled a little."
At that point a samurai appeared and announced that soon after Yoshinari had returned home something had occurred at his office, and that some of his subordinates had come to confer with him even though it was late at night. The three officers were waiting at the entrance.
"What is it?" Yoshinari asked the three men.
The leader made his report. "Toward the end of the day, one of our patrols arrested a suspicious-looking swordsman near the Nagara River."
"And?"
"He acted very obediently all the way to the guardhouse. When we questioned him he stubbornly refused to give his name or native province, and said that he would only do so if he could speak to Master Yoshinari. He went on to say that he was not a spy, and that a relative of his—a woman—had been working in the Oda household from the time His Lordship resided in Kiyosu. But he would not say any more unless he could meet with the man in charge. He was very stubborn."
"Well, well. How old is he?"
"About forty."
"What kind of man is he?"
"He's rather impressive. It's difficult to think of him as being just one of these wandering swordsmen."