"What do you think our strategy should be in our attack on him, and what is your forecast for the western provinces?"

"I think that neither the Mori nor the Honganji are likely to move precipitously Murashige has already revolted, so they're more likely to let him get into a bloody fight of resistance. Then, if they see that our men in Harima and His Lordship's headquarters in Azuchi are weakening, they'll leap into the vacuum and attack from all sides."

"That's right, they'll take advantage of Murashige's stupidity. I don't know what kind of grievances he may have had, or what kind of bait they waved in front of him, but es­sentially he's being used as a shield for the Mori and the Honganji. Once that role as a shield is finished, there'll be nothing left for him but self-destruction. In terms of martial valor, he's far above others; but he's dull-witted. If there's any way of keeping him alive, I'd like to do it."

"The very best strategy would be to keep him from getting killed. It would be good if we could keep a man like that alive and also keep him as an ally."

"But if you think that an envoy from Azuchi would be useless, who could go that Murashige might submit to?"

"First try sending Kanbei. If Kanbei speaks to him, he should be able to enlighten Murashige on the matter, or at least wake him up from his bad dream."

"What if he refuses to see Kanbei?"

"Then the Oda can send their last envoy."

"Their last envoy?"

"You, my lord."

"Me?" Hideyoshi was momentarily lost in thought. "Well, if it comes to that, it will be too late."

"Teach him duty and enlighten him with friendship. If he doesn't accept what you say, you can do nothing more than strike at him firmly, citing the crime of revolt. If it does come to that, it would be foolish to attack Itami with a single stroke. Lord Murashige has not been emboldened by the strength of Itami Castle but rather by the cooperation of the two men he relies on like his right and left hands."

“You mean Nakagawa Sebei and Takayama Ukon?"

“If you can get those two men away from him, he'll be like a body with no arms. And if you win either Ukon or Sebei over, getting them away from Murashige should not be that much of a problem." Hanbei seemed to forget about his illness at some point and talked about this subject and that, until his sickly pallor almost disappeared.

"How do I win over Ukon?" Hideyoshi asked him eagerly, and Hanbei did not disapoint him.

"Takayama Ukon is an enthusiastic follower of Christianity. If you give him condiions permitting the propagation of his faith, he'll leave Murashige without a doubt."

"Yes, that's clear," Hideyoshi said in admiration. If he could get Ukon to convince Sebei, it would kill two birds with one stone. He stopped his questions. Hanbei appeared to be tired, too. Hideyoshi got up to leave.

"Wait just a moment," Hanbei requested. He got up and went from the room, possibly toward the kitchen.

Hideyoshi remembered that he was hungry. His attendants must have finished eating their lunches by this time. But before he even thought about returning to the temple's guest quarters and having some rice, a boy, who seemed to be Hanbei's attendant, brought in two trays, one bearing a sake container.

"What happened to Hanbei? Did he get tired after our long conversation?"

"No, my lord. He went to the kitchen a little while ago and prepared the vegetables for your meal himself. He's cooking the rice right now, so he'll be in as soon as he's done."

"What? Hanbei's cooking for me?"

"Yes, my lord."

Hideyoshi took a bite of taro—it was still hot—and the tears once again came to his eyes. The taste of the vegetable seemed to be not only on his tongue but filling his entire body. He felt that the taste was almost too good for someone like him. Although Hanbei was a retainer, he had taught Hideyoshi all of the secret principles of ancient Chinese miltary lore. The things that Hideyoshi had learned while sitting with him every day were not ordinary things: the governing of the people during times of peace and the necessity of self-discipline.

"He shouldn't be doing that." Suddenly, Hideyoshi put down his cup and, leaving the page who had been serving him, went to the kitchen, where Hanbei was cooking rice.

Hideyoshi took him by the hand. "Hanbei, this is too much. Won't you come sit and talk with me for a while instead?"

He led Hanbei back to the room and made him take a cup of sake but because of his illness, Hanbei could do no more than touch it to his lips. The two of them then ate together. It had been a long time since lord and retainer had enjoyed the pleasure of a meal in each other's company.

"It's time to go. But I've been invigorated. Now I can go fight. Hanbei, please take good care of yourself."

When Hideyoshi left the Nanzen Temple, the day had already begun to end, and the sky over the capital was turning crimson.

*  *  *

It was quiet, without even the report of a single firearm—so quiet that one might doubt it was a battlefield, so quiet that the sound of a praying mantis sliding through the dry grass rustled in the ear. It was mid-autumn in the western provinces. The maples had been turning red everywhere on the peaks for the last two or three days, and their redness burned in Hideyoshi's eyes.

Hideyoshi was back at the camp at Mount Hirai. He was seated across from Kanbei, underneath the pine on the hill from which they had viewed the moon some time before. Having talked over a number of things, they had come to an important conclusion.

"Well, you'll go for me, then?"

"I'll be happy to undertake this mission. Whether I succeed is up to heaven."

"I'm counting on you."

"I will do my best, and leave the rest to providence. My going there is just the last chance. If I don't come back alive, you know what follows."

"Nothing but force."

They stood up. The high-pitched cry of the bulbul could be heard from across the valley to the west. The red leaves in that direction were stunning. The two men silently descended the hill and walked toward the camp. The specter of death—and imminent parting—filled the atmosphere of the peaceful afternoon and lay quietly in the thoughts of these two good friends.

"Kanbei." Hideyoshi looked back as he went down the narrow, sloping path. The possibility that his friend would not be coming back again struck him deeply, and he thought Kanbei might have some last things to say. "Is there anything else?"

"No."

"Nothing for Himeji Castle?"

"No."

"Have you got a message for your father?"

"Just explain to him why I'm going on this mission."

"Very well."

The air had become clear, and it was possible to see the enemy castle at Miki far in the distance. The road leading to the castle had been cut off since summer, so it was easy to imagine the hunger and thirst inside. Nevertheless, as might be expected of the garri­son of Harima's most spirited general and bravest soldiers, it continued throughout the siege to manifest a martial spirit as biting as the autumn frost.

The besieged enemy had been driven to make sallies against the surrounding Oda troops. Hideyoshi, however, gave his men strict orders not to give in to their provocations, and sharply cautioned them against impulsive action.

Again, minute care was taken to allow no news of the external situation to reach the castle. If the men inside the castle heard that Araki Murashige had revolted against Nobunaga, it would strengthen their morale. After all, Murashige's revolt did not simply cause dismay in Azuchi; it threatened the whole western campaign. As a matter of fact, as soon as Odera Masamoto, the lord of Gochaku Castle, became aware of Murashige's re­volt, he made a clear declaration separating himself from Nobunaga and even went one night to the enemy's camp.