Wiping the sweat from his eyes with his gauntlet, Nobunaga said to his pages, "A moment like this won't come again. Go down to the river and see what you can do."

Ranmaru and the others—even the youngest—all ran at the enemy, each one vying to be first. The Tokugawa, who had pushed in so deeply, were quite definitely in trouble, but in this game of battlefield chess, the astute Ieyasu was the one piece that had been placed on the vital point.

Nobunaga is not likely to let this one piece die, Ieyasu told himself. Ittetsu's men followed Hideyoshi's. Finally, Ikeda Shonyu's men poured in. Suddenly the tide of the battle had changed, and the Oda were winning. Asakura Kagetake's forces retreated more than three leagues, and Asai Nagamasa's forces fled hurriedly toward Odani Castle.

From that point on, it was a battle of pursuit. The Asakura were chased to Mount Oyose, and Asai Nagamasa retreated behind the walls of Odani Castle. Nobunaga dealt with the aftermath of the battle in two days, and on the third day he led his army back to Gifu. He had moved with the speed of the cuckoo that nightly flew over the Ane River, which now washed the bodies of the dead on its shores.

*  *  *

A great man is not made simply by innate ability. Circumstances must give him the opportunity. These circumstances are often the malevolent conditions that surround a man and work on his character, almost as if they were trying to torture him. When his enemies have taken every form possible, both seen and unseen, and ally themselves to confront him with every hardship imaginable, he encounters the real test of greatness.

Directly after the battle of the Ane River, Nobunaga returned home with such speed that the generals of his various units asked themselves if something had happened in Gifu. Quite naturally, the strategies of the field staff are not understood by the rank and file. A rumor now circulated among the soldiers that Hideyoshi had strongly advocated taking the main castle of the Asai at Odani and putting an end to them once and for all, but Lord Nobunaga had not agreed. Instead, the very next day he had made Hideyoshi commander of Yokoyama Castle, a branch castle that the enemy had abandoned, while he himself withdrew to Gifu.

The soldiers were not the only ones who did not understand the reasons behind Nobunaga's sudden return to Gifu. Very likely his closest retainers did not understand their lord's real intentions, either. The only man who might have had some idea was Ieyasu, whose impartial eye never strayed for long from Nobunaga: not too close at hand, but too distant; without excessive emotion, but not too coolly.

On the day Nobunaga left, Ieyasu returned to Hamamatsu. On the way, he said to his generals, "As soon as Lord Nobunaga takes off his bloodstained armor, he'll dress himself for the capital and whip his horse straight for Kyoto. His mind is like a restless young colt."

In the end, that is exactly what happened. By the time Ieyasu arrived at Hamamatsu Nobunaga was already on his way to Kyoto. Which is not to say that there was anything going on in the capital at the time. What Nobunaga feared was something that he could not see—a phantom enemy.

Nobunaga had disclosed his concern to Hideyoshi. "What do you think my biggest worry is? I imagine you know, don't you?"

Hideyoshi cocked his head to one side and said, "Well, now. It isn't the Takeda of kai, who are always lying in wait at your rear, or the Asai or Asakura clan. Lord Ieyasu someone to be careful of, but he's an intelligent man and so shouldn't be feared altogether. The Matsunaga and Miyoshi are like flies, and there are plenty of rotting things for them to swarm around, as it's their nature to go after the dying. Your only really troublesome enemies are the warrior-monks of the Honganji, but they don't trouble my lord much yet, I think. That only leaves one person."

"And who is he? Speak up."

"He's neither enemy nor ally. You have to show him respect, but if that's all you do,  you might quickly become trapped. He's a two-faced apparition—oh, dear, I've spoken improperly. Aren't we talking about the shogun?"

"Right. But don't mention this to anyone." Nobunaga's anxiety was about this man, who was indeed truly neither friend nor foe: Yoshiaki, the shogun.

Yoshiaki had shed tears of gratitude over Nobunaga's past favors to him, and even said that he thought of Nobunaga as his own father. So why Yoshiaki? Duplicity is always found hidden away in places where one would least imagine it to be. Yoshiaki’s and Nobunaga's characters were not matched at all; their educations were different, so were their beliefs. As long as Nobunaga had helped him, Yoshiaki treated Nobunaga as a benefactor. But once he had warmed the shogun's seat a little, his gratitude turned to loathing.

"The bumpkin is annoying," Yoshiaki was heard to say. He began to avoid Nobunaga, and even regarded him as a stumbling block, whose authority exceeded his own. He was not, however, brave enough to bring matters out into the open and fight him. Yoshiaki's nature was completely negative. And, opposed to Nobunaga's positiveness, it played itself out in secrecy to the very end.

In a secluded room deep within Nijo Palace, the shogun conversed with an emissary from the warrior-monks of the Honganji.

"Abbot Kennyo resents him too? It's not surprising that Nobunaga's unparalleled arrogance and high-handedness anger the abbot."

The messenger concluded before leaving, "Please make sure that everything I've said is kept secret. At the same time, perhaps it would be advisable to send secret messages to Kai and to the Asai and Asakura clans so as not to miss this opportunity."

On the very same day, in another part of the palace, Nobunaga was waiting for Yoshiaki in order to announce his arrival in the capital. Yoshiaki composed himself, assumed an air of complete innocence, and went into the reception room to meet with Nobunaga.

"I hear that the battle of the Ane River was a splendid victory for you. Yet another ex-ample of your military prowess. Congratulations! This is a happy event indeed."

Nobunaga was unable to suppress a bitter smile at this flattery, and he replied with some irony, "No, no. It was thanks to Your Excellency's virtue and influence that we were able to fight so bravely, knowing there would be no unhappy events in the aftermath."

Yoshiaki turned slightly red, blushing like a woman. "Put your mind at ease. The capital is at peace, as you can see. But have you heard of some untoward event? After the battle, you came here with such frightening speed."

"No, I came to pay my respects at the completion of the rebuilding of the Imperial Palace, to look after affairs of state, and, of course, to inquire after Your Excellency's health."

"Ah, is that so?" Yoshiaki felt slightly relieved. "Well, you can see that I'm healthy and that the government is moving along without any problems, so you shouldn't be so anxious and come here so often. But come, let me treat you to a banquet to congratulate you officially upon your triumphal return."

"I must refuse, Your Excellency," Nobunaga said, waving off the suggestion. "I still haven't sent words of thanks to my officers and men. I wouldn't feel quite right about accepting an invitation to an extravagant banquet on my own. Let us postpone it until the next time I'm in attendance on Your Excellency."

With this, he took his leave. When he returned to his lodgings, Akechi Mitsuhide was waiting to submit his report.

"A monk who appeared to be a messenger from Abbot Kennyo of the Honganji was seen leaving the shogun's palace. These recent comings and goings between the warrior-monks and the shogun are pretty suspicious, don't you think?"

Nobunaga had appointed Mitsuhide commander of the Kyoto garrison. In this capacity, he meticulously recorded all visitors to Nijo Palace.