Hideyoshi had just arrived, having crossed the lake at about noon. The debate was in progress when he approached headquarters, so he had waited outside. Now he stuck his through a split in the curtain and apologized for intruding.
Abruptly they all looked in his direction. Nobunaga's expression was like a raging fire, while the faces of his three generals, who were resolved to die, were frozen, as if covered with a coating of ice.
"I've just arrived by ship," Hideyoshi said genially. "Lake Biwa in the fall is absolutely beautiful; places like Chikubu Island are covered with red leaves. Somehow it didn't feel as though I was heading for the battlefield at all, and I even made up some poor poetry on board. Maybe I'll read it to you after the battle."
Stepping inside, Hideyoshi chattered away about whatever came into his head. Nowhere on his face was there anything like the solemnity that had transfixed lord and retainers just moments ago. He seemed to have no worries at all.
"What's going on?" Hideyoshi asked, looking back and forth at Nobunaga and his retainers, who were sunk in silence. His words were like a clear spring breeze. "Ah. I heard what you were talking about when I was outside just now. Is that why you're silent? Thinking so much of their lord, the retainers have resolved to admonish him and die; knowing the innermost feelings of his retainers, the lord is not so violent that he would cut them down. Yes, I can see there's a problem. You could say there are good and bad points to both sides."
Nobunaga turned his head sharply. "Hideyoshi, you've come at a good time. If you've heard almost everything, you must understand what's in my heart and what these three men are saying as well,"
"I do understand, my lord."
"Would you obey the order? Do you think it is wrong?"
"I don't think anything at all. No, wait. This order is based on the recommendation I wrote up and gave to you some time ago, I believe."
"What! When did you make such a proposal?"
"It must have slipped your mind, my lord. I believe it was sometime in spring." Then he turned to the three generals and said, "But listen, it nearly made me weep as I stood out there unseen and heard your loyal admonitions. Yours is the sincerity of true retainers. In a word, however, I think what each one of you is most worried about is that if we do attack Mount Hiei with fire, it is certain that the country will turn against His Lordship."
"That's it exactly! If we commit this atrocity," Sekian said, "both the samurai and the people will feel resentment. Our enemies will take advantage of it to blacken His Lordship's name forever."
"But it was I who recommended that when we attacked Mount Hiei, we should go all the way, so it was not His Lordship's idea. Now, if that's so, I would be the one to bear whatever curse or bad reputation that might be forthcoming."
"How presumptuous!" Nobumori cried out. "Why would the public blame someone like you? Whatever the Oda army does reflects on its commander-in-chief."
"Of course. But won't all of you help me out? Couldn't we proclaim to the world that the four of us were so eager to carry out His Lordship's orders that we went too far? It's said that the greater part of loyalty is delivering one's admonition even if one is forced to die for it. But if it were left to me, I would say that even delivering an admonition and dying is not enough proof of the loyalty of a truly devoted retainer. It's my view that while we are alive, we should answer, in our lord's place, for the bad reputation, abuse, persecution, stumbling, and anything else. Do you agree?"
Nobunaga listened silently, without signaling agreement or disagreement.
Sekian was the first to respond to Hideyoshi's suggestion. "Hideyoshi, I agree with you." He looked around at Mitsuhide and Nobumori; they also made no objections. And they swore to attack Mount Hiei with fire, and to let it be known that their actions had exceeded Nobunaga's orders.
"A masterful plan." In a voice that betrayed admiration, Sekian congratulated Hideyoshi for his resourcefulness, but Nobunaga did not look the least bit pleased. On the contrary, without saying a word, his expression clearly showed that this was something that hardly warranted so much praise.
The same opinion could be clearly seen on Mitsuhide's face. In his heart, Mitsuhide understood what Hideyoshi had suggested, but he also felt that the merit of the truth of their own loyal remonstrances had been snatched away by the newcomer's words. He was jealous. An intelligent man, however, he was quickly ashamed of his selfishness. He censured himself, reflecting that someone who was ready to die in objecting to his lord's command should avoid shallow thinking, even for a moment.
The three generals were satisfied with Hideyoshi's plan, but Nobunaga acted as though he were not committing himself to it, and certainly he did not seem to have changed his original aim. One after another, Nobunaga summoned his commanders.
"Tonight, at the sound of the conch, we will make an all-out attack on the mountain!" He himself gave the same severe orders that he had given previously to the three generals. It appeared that there were many officers there who, along with Sekian, Mitsuhide, and Nobumori, were against the attack by fire, but since those three had already accepted the order, they all did the same and left without a dissenting word.
Messengers from headquarters galloped to the outlying units and carried the orders to the front-line troops at the foot of the mountain.
The evening clouds settled in brilliant colors behind Shimeigadake as the sun set. Broad shafts of red light ran across the lake like rainbows, as waves rose on the surface.
"Look!" Nobunaga stood at the top of the hill and spoke to those around him, gazing up at the clouds around Mount Hiei. "Heaven is with us! A strong wind has come up. We'll have the best weather conditions for a fire attack!"
As he spoke, the cold evening wind rustled through their clothes and gradually freshened. There were only five or six retainers with him, and at that moment a man peeked inside the billowing curtain as though he were looking for someone.
Sekian shouted at the man, "What's your business? His Lordship is over here."
The samurai quickly approached and knelt down. "No, I have nothing to report to His Lordship. Is General Hideyoshi here?"
When Hideyoshi emerged from the group, the messenger told him, "A man dressed as a priest has just now come into camp. He says he is Watanabe Tenzo, one of your retainers, and that he has just returned from Kai. His report seemed to be extremely urgent, so I hurried here."
Although Nobunaga was a little distance from Hideyoshi, he suddenly turned toward him.
"Hideyoshi, the man who just returned from Kai is one of your retainers?"
"I think you know him, too, my lord. Watanabe Tenzo, Hikoemon's nephew."
"Tenzo? Well, let's hear if he has any news," Nobunaga said. "Call him here. I'd like to listen to his report, too."
Tenzo knelt in front of Hideyoshi and Nobunaga and told them about the conversation he had eavesdropped on at the Eirin Temple.
Nobunaga grunted. This was a dangerous threat to his rear. As with his attack on Mount Hiei the year before, the danger had not decreased in the least. On the contrary, both his position in regard to the Takeda and the conditions in the area of Nagashima had worsened. In the campaign the previous year, however, the large armies of the Asai and Asakura had joined forces and retreated to Mount Hiei. This time he had not given his enemies such an opportunity, so the forces that faced him now were not so powerful. It was just that there was always danger from the rear.
"I imagine the Takeda clan has already dispatched messages to Mount Hiei, so the monks are certain to be optimistic about our army turning tail and heading for home," Nobunaga said, dismissing Tenzo. "This is help from heaven," he said, laughing with satisfaction. "Which is going to be faster—the Takeda army as it crosses the mountains of Kai and presses in on Owari and Mino, or the Oda army when it returns after having destroyed Mount Hiei and conquered the capital and Settsu? It would seem as though they're giving us extra incentive for competition, and increasing our desperate conviction. Everybody get back to your posts."