Seeing his perplexity, Nobunaga seemed to understand what was going on in Mitsuhide's mind. Suddenly he laughed out loud. "Even Mitsuhide can be unbecomingly prudent. At any rate, do you have those illustrations at hand?"
"I have a few, but I wonder if they will suffice."
"They will. Loan them to me for a little while."
"I'll get them for you right away."
Mitsuhide blamed himself for having told even the smallest lie to Nobunaga, and though the matter had ended, he was the one who had suffered. When the subject changed to the castles of the various provinces and other chitchat, however, Nobunaga's mood was still good. After dinner was served, Mitsuhide withdrew without any ill feeling.
The next morning, after Nobunaga had left Nijo, Ranmaru went to see his mother.
"Mother, I heard from both my younger brother and the other attendants that Lord Mitsuhide had told His Lordship that because you go in and out of temples, you might leak military secrets to the warrior-monks. So yesterday, when he was in attendance on his Lordship, I sent him a little arrow of retribution. At any rate, since my father passed away, our family has received far more kindness from His Lordship than others have, so I’m afraid people are jealous. Be careful and don't trust anyone."
* * *
Immediately after the New Year's celebrations of the fourth year of Tensho, the construction of the castle at Azuchi was begun, along with a project for a castle town of unprecedented size. Craftsmen gathered at Azuchi with their apprentices and workmen. They came from the capital and Osaka, from the faraway western provinces, and even from the east and north: smiths, stonemasons, plasterers, metalworkers, and even wallpaper hangers—representatives of every craft in the nation.
The famous Kano Eitoku was selected to illustrate the doors, sliding partitions, and ceilings. For this project, Kano did not simply rely on the traditions of his own school. Rather, he consulted with the masters of each school and then created the masterpieces of a lifetime, sending brilliant shafts of light into the world of the arts, which had been in decline during the many years of civil war.
The mulberry fields disappeared in a single night, becoming a well laid-out street plan, while on top of the mountain, the framework of the donjon appeared almost before people were aware of it. The main citadel, modeled after the mythical Mount Meru, had four towers—representing the Kings of the Four Directions—around the central five-story donjon. Below it stood a huge stone edifice, and leading off from this were annexes. Above and below there were more than one hundred related structures, and it was difficult to tell how many stories each structure comprised.
In the Plum Tree Room, the Room of the Eight Famous Scenes, the Pheasant Room, and the Room of Chinese Children, the painter applied his art with no time for sleep. The master lacquerer, who hated even the mention of dust, lacquered the vermilion handrails and the black walls. A Chinese-born ceramicist was appointed master tilemaker. The smoke from his lakeside kiln rose into the air day and night.
A solitary priest mumbled to himself as he gazed at the castle. He was only a traveling monk, but his heavy brow and wide mouth gave him an unusual look.
"Isn't it Ekei?" Hideyoshi asked, patting the man gently on the shoulder so as not to startle him. Hideyoshi had detached himself from a group of generals standing a little way off.
"Well, well, now! Lord Hideyoshi!"
"I wouldn't have expected to find you here," Hideyoshi said cheerfully. He patted Ekei's shoulder again, and then smiled affectionately. "It's been a long time since we last met. I believe it was at Master Koroku's house in Hachisuka."
"Yes, that's right. Not long ago—I think it was at the end of the year at Nijo Palace— I overheard Lord Mitsuhide say that you had come to the capital. I came with an envoy from Lord Mori Terumoto, and stayed in Kyoto for a while. The envoy has already returned home, but since I'm just a country priest with no urgent business, I've been stopping here and there at temples both in and out of Kyoto. I thought Lord Nobunaga's present construction project would make a good travel story back home, so I stopped to take a look. I must say I'm very impressed."
"Your Reverence is involved in some construction, too, I hear," Hideyoshi remarked abruptly. Ekei looked startled, but Hideyoshi laughed, adding, "No, no. Not a castle. I understand you're building a monastery, called Ankokuji."
"Ah, the monastery." Ekei's face relaxed, and he laughed. "Ankokuji has already been completed. I'll hope you'll find time to visit me there, though I fear that as the master of Nagahama Castle your schedule will not allow it."
“I may have become the lord of a castle, but my stipend is still low, so neither my position nor my mouth carries much weight. But I'll bet I look a little more grown up than when you last saw me in Hachisuka."
"No, you haven't changed a bit. You're young, Lord Hideyoshi, but then almost everyone on Lord Nobunaga's field staff is in the prime of life. I've been struck from the very first by the grandeur of the plan for his castle and by the spirit of his generals. He seems to have the force of the rising sun."
"Ankokuji was paid for by Lord Terumoto of the western provinces, was it not? His own province is wealthy and strong, and I suspect that even in terms of men of talent, Lord Nobunaga's clan is no match."
Ekei seemed anxious not to become involved in such a conversation, and once again he praised the construction of the donjon and the superb view of the area.
Finally, Hideyoshi said, "Nagahama is on the coast just north of here. My boat is berrthed nearby, so why don't you come and stay for a night or two? I've been granted some leave, and I thought I'd go back to Nagahama."
Ekei used this invitation to make a hasty withdrawal. "No, perhaps I'll call on you at another time. Please give my regards to Master Koroku, or rather Master Hikoemon, that is, now that he's one of your retainers." And he suddenly walked off.
As Hideyoshi watched Ekei go, two monks, who seemed to be his disciples, came out from a commoner's house and chased after him.
Accompanied only by Mosuke, Hideyoshi went to the construction site, which had the look of a battlefield. As he had not been assigned important responsibilities in the building work, he did not have to stay permanently in Azuchi, nevertheless he made frequent trips from Nagahama to Azuchi by ship.
"Lord Hideyoshi! Lord Hideyoshi!" Someone was calling him. Looking around, he saw Ranmaru, displaying a beautiful line of white teeth in his smiling mouth, running toward him.
"Well now, Master Ranmaru. Where is His Lordship?"
"He was at the donjon all morning, but he's now resting at the Sojitsu Temple."
"Well, let's go over there."
"Lord Hideyoshi, that monk you were just now talking to—wasn't he Ekei, the famous physiognomist?"
"That's right. I've heard that from someone else. I wonder if a physiognomist can really see a man's true character," Hideyoshi said, pretending that he had little interest in the subject.
Whenever Ranmaru spoke with Hideyoshi, he did not guard his words as he did with Mitsuhide. This did not mean Ranmaru thought that Hideyoshi was an easy mark, but there were times when the older man played the fool, and Ranmaru found him easy to get along with.
"A physiognomist really can tell!" Ranmaru said. "My mother says that all the time. Just before my father died in battle, one of them predicted his death. And the fact is, well, I’m interested in something Ekei said."
"Have you had him look at you?"
"No, no. It's not about me." He looked up and down the street, and said confidentially, "It's about Lord Mitsuhide."