Nobunaga was now watching the flames of Odani Castle, which were almost close enough to burn his face. The mountains and valleys on all three sides were red, and the burning castle roared like a huge smelting furnace.
When the flames finally turned to smoking ashes and it was all over, Nobunaga could not hold back his tears over his sister's fate. The fool! he cursed Nagamasa.
When all the temples and monasteries on Mount Hiei had been consigned to the flames along with the lives of every monk and layman on the mountain, Nobunaga had watched unmoved. Now those same eyes were filled with tears. The slaughter on Mount Hiei could not be compared with the death of his sister.
Human beings possess both intellect and instinct, and they often contradict each other. Nobunaga, however, had great faith in his destruction of Mount Hiei—that by destroying one single mountain, countless lives would be promised happiness and prosperity. The death of Nagamasa held no such great significance. Nagamasa had fought with a narrow-minded sense of duty and honor, and thus Nobunaga had been forced to do the same. Nobunaga himself had asked Nagamasa to abandon his stunted sense of duty and to share his own larger vision. Certainly he had treated Nagamasa with a large degree of consideration and generosity to the very end. But that generosity had to have a limit. He would have been lenient with the man right up to this evening, but his generals woul not permit it.
Even though Takeda Shingen of Kai was dead, his generals and men were still in very good health, and his son's abilities were supposed to excel his father's. Nobunaga's enemies were only waiting for him to stumble. It would be folly to wait passively in northern Omi for a long time after he had defeated Echizen with one blow. Listening to this sort of reasoning and argument from his generals, even Nobunaga had been unable to speak up for his sister. But then Hideyoshi had requested permission to be Nobunaga's envoy for just one day. And although he had sent a signal of good news while it was still light, evening came, and then night, and he had sent no further report whatsoever.
Nobunaga's generals were indignant.
“Do you think he was tricked by the enemy?"
"He's probably been killed."
"The enemy is planning some scheme while we're off guard."
Nobunaga resigned himself and finally gave the order for an all-out attack. But after making his decision, he wondered if he had not sacrificed Hideyoshi's life, and his regret was nearly unbearable.
Suddenly a young samurai wearing black-threaded armor ran up in such a hurry that he almost hit Nobunaga with his spear.
"My lord!" he gasped.
"Kneel!" a general ordered. "Put your spear behind you!"
The young samurai fell heavily to his knees under the stares of the retainers surrounding Nobunaga.
"Lord Hideyoshi has just returned. He was able to get out of the castle without mishap."
"What! Hideyoshi is back?" Nobunaga exclaimed. "Alone?" he asked hurriedly.
The young messenger added, "He came with three men of the Asai clan, and with the lady Oichi and her children."
Nobunaga was trembling. "Are you sure? Did you actually see them?"
"A group of us guarded them on the way back, right after they ran from the castle, which was collapsing in flames. They were exhausted, so we took them to a place of safety and gave them some water. Lord Hideyoshi commanded me to run ahead and make this report."
Nobunaga said, "You're Hideyoshi's retainer; what is your name?"
"I'm his chief page, Horio Mosuke."
"Thank you for bearing such good news. Now go and take a rest."
"Thank you, my lord, but the battle is still raging." With this, Mosuke quickly took his leave and dashed out toward the faraway clamor of warriors.
"Divine help…" someone mumbled off to the side with a sigh. It was Katsuie. The other generals also congratulated Nobunaga.
"This is an unanticipated blessing. You must be very happy."
A thread of emotion found its way wordlessly among them. These men were jealous of Hideyoshi's accomplishments, and were the very ones who had advocated abandoning him and hastening a general attack on the castle.
Nevertheless, Nobunaga's joy was overflowing, and his excellent mood immediately caused a brighter spirit to spread through his headquarters. While the others were offering their congratulations, the shrewd Katsuie said privately to Nobunaga, "Shall I greet him?"
Receiving Nobunaga's permission, he hurried off with a few retainers down the steep slope toward the castle. Finally, under the protection of Hideyoshi, the long-awaited Oichi climbed up to the headquarters on the plateau. A small corps of soldiers went in front, carrying torches. Hideyoshi panted along behind the men, still carrying Chacha on his back.
The first thing Nobunaga saw was the sweat on Hideyoshi's forehead, glistening in the light of the torches. Next came the old general, Fujikake Mikawa, and the two tutors, each carrying a child on his back. Nobunaga gazed at the children silently. No emotion showed on his face at all. Then, from about twenty paces to the rear, Shibata Katsuie came up, a white hand holding the shoulder of his armor. The hand belonged to Oichi, who was now half-dazed.
"Lady Oichi," Katsuie said, "your brother is right here." Katsuie quickly led her to Nobunaga.
When Oichi had fully regained her senses, all she could do was weep. For an instant the woman's sobbing blotted out every other sound in the camp. It wrung the hearts of even the veteran generals who were present. Nobunaga, however, looked disgusted. This was the beloved sister he had worried about so much until just a few moments before. Why wasn't he greeting his sister with wild joy? Had something ruined his mood? The generals were dismayed. The situation passed even Hideyoshi's understanding. Nobunaga's close retainers were constantly troubled by their lord's quick changes of mood When they saw the familiar expression on his face, not one of them could do anything but stand by silently; and in the midst of the silence, Nobunaga himself found it difficul to cheer up.
There were not very many of Nobunaga's retainers who could read his inner thought; and disentangle him from his moody and introverted self. In fact, Hideyoshi and the absent Akechi Mitsuhide were about the only ones who had this ability.
Hideyoshi watched the situation for a moment, and since no one seemed about to do anything, he said to Oichi, "Now, now, my lady. Go to his side and greet him. It won't do just to stand here crying for joy. What's the matter? You're brother and sister, aren't you?'
Oichi did not budge; she could not even look at her brother. Her mind was set on Nagamasa. To her, Nobunaga was nothing more than the enemy general who had killed her husband and had brought her here, a shamed captive in the enemy camp.
Nobunaga could tell exactly what was in his sister's heart. So, along with his satisfaction at her safety, he felt an uncontrollable revulsion for this foolish woman who could not understand her brother's great love.
"Hideyoshi, let her be. Don't waste your breath." Nobunaga stood up abruptly from his camp stool. He then lifted a section of the curtain surrounding his headquarters.
"Odani has fallen," he whispered, gazing at the flames. Both the battle cries and the fires burning the castle were dying down, and the waning moon cast a white light on the peaks and valleys as they waited for the dawn.
Just then, an officer and his men ran up the hill, yelling victory cries. When they set down the heads of Asai Nagamasa and his retainers in front of Nobunaga, Oichi screamed, and the children clinging to her started to cry.
Nobunaga shouted, "Stop that noise! Katsuie! Get the young ones out of here! I'm putting them in your care—both Oichi and the children. Hurry up and take them of someplace where no one will see them."