"No." Mitsuharu quickly shifted his eyes and gazed peacefully into Mitsuhide's face. "The fact is that I thought it was something I needn't trouble you with, so I turned him down myself. Since you're asking me about it now, however, perhaps I should go over it with you. The Abbot of Yokawa knew that you would be staying here, and he wanted to have an audience with you at least once."
"The abbot said that he wanted to meet me?"
"Yes, and he also requested in his petition to have the respected name of Lord Mitsuhide on the subscription list for the restoration of Mount Hiei. I told him that both requests were absolutely out of the question."
"And even though you told him it was out of the question, and refused and then refused again, he still sent messengers to the castle three or four more times? Mitsuharu, I would be apprehensive about signing my name to the subscription list out of deference to Lord Nobunaga, but I wonder if I need to hesitate just to meet him."
"I think it's totally unnecessary for you to meet him," Mitsuharu said. "What purpose today would there be for you—who acted as a general at the destruction of Mount Hiei— to meet with a priest who survived that destruction?"
"He was an enemy at that time," Mitsuhide replied. "But now Mount Hiei has been made completely impotent, and the people there have prostrated themselves and pledged their allegiance to Azuchi."
"Certainly, in form. But how are the fellow priests and relatives of those who were massacred, and the monks whose ancient temples and monasteries were burned, going to forget the resentment that has lived in their hearts for so many years? The dead must have numbered ten thousand, and the buildings had been there since the time of Saint Dengyo."
Mitsuhide let out a long sigh. "There was no way I could avoid Nobunaga's orders, and I too became one of those insane arsonists on Mount Hiei that year. I stabbed to death both the warrior-monks and numberless unfortunate monks and laymen, young and old. When I think of that today, my breast is tortured just as though it were the burnning mountain itself."
"But you've always said that we should take the broad view, and it doesn't sound as though you're doing that now. You destroy one to save many. If we burn one mountain but make the Buddhist Law shine brightly on another five mountains and a hundred peaks, then I think that the killings we samurai commit cannot be called murders."
"Of course that's right. But out of sympathy, I can't restrain a tear for Mount Hiei. Mitsuharu! In public I must hold back, but as an ordinary man I feel that there could be no harm in saying a prayer for the mountain, could there? I'm going to go to the mountain incognito tomorrow. I'll come back right after meeting the abbot."
That night, Mitsuharu stayed awake worrying even after he had gone to bed. Why was Mitsuhide so taken by the idea of going to Mount Hiei? Should he, Mitsuharu, try to stop him, or would it be better to let him do what he wanted? Considering the position
Mitsuhide was in now, it would be better for him to have no connection whatsoever with the restoration of Mount Hiei. And it would not be advisable for him to meet with the abbot, either.
This much Mitsuharu could think through clearly, but why had Mitsuhide looked displeased at his arbitrary rejection of the abbot's messenger and his refusal of the petition? Fundamentally, he did not seem very happy with Mitsuharu's handling of the situation.
What sort of plan was Mitsuhide conceiving, with Mount Hiei as its center? Obviously Mitsuhide's visit would provide good material for slanderous assertions that he was plotting against Nobunaga. And it was certainly a waste of time, just before his departure for a campaign in the western provinces.
"I'm going to stop him. I'm going to stop him no matter what he says." Having made this decision, Mitsuharu finally closed his eyes. In a head-on confrontation he would most likely receive an unpleasant tongue-lashing from Mitsuhide or make him very angry but he was going to do his best to stop his cousin. So resolved, he went to sleep.
The next morning he got up earlier than usual, but as he was washing, he heard the rhythm of running feet hurrying down the main corridor to the entranceway. Mitsuharu called out and stopped one of the samurai.
"Who's leaving?"
"Lord Mitsuhide."
"What!"
"Yes, my lord. He's attired in light dress for the mountain and is accompanied only by Amano Genemon. They're planning to take their horses as far as Hiyoshi. Or that's what Lord Mitsuhide said as he was putting on his straw sandals at the entrance just now."
Mitsuharu never missed his morning prayers in front of the castle shrine and at the family altar, but this morning he neglected both. He dressed with both long and short swords and hurried toward the entrance. But Mitsuhide and his retainer had already gone, and only the attendants who had seen them off remained, looking toward the white clouds on Shimeigatake.
* * *
"It looks like the rainy season is ending here too."
The morning mist in the pine grove beyond the castle still had not cleared, and it made the surrounding area look almost like a scene at the bottom of the sea. The two mounted men hurried through the grove at a light gait. A large bird flew over them, flapping its wings majestically.
"The weather is fine, isn't it, Genemon?"
“If it stays like this, the mountain will be clear."
“I haven't felt this good in a long time," Mitsuhide said.
“That fact alone makes this trip worthwhile."
"I want to meet the Abbot of Yokawa more than anything else. That's my only business here."
“I daresay he will be surprised to see you."
"People would have been suspicious if I had invited him to Sakamoto Castle. I have to meet him in private. Make the arrangements, Genemon."
"People are more likely to see you at the foot of the mountain than on the mountain itself. It would be highly unpleasant if word got around to the villagers that Lord Mitsuhide was out on an excursion. You should wear your hood down over your face, at least as far as Hiyoshi."
Mitsuhide pulled his hood down, until only his mouth was visible.
"Your clothes are plain, and your saddle is just that of a common warrior's. No one will be likely to think that you are Lord Akechi Mitsuhide."
"If you treat me with that much courtesy, people will be suspicious immediately."
"I hadn't thought of that," Genemon said with a laugh. "I'll be a little more careful from now on, but don't blame me for being rude."
At the foot of Mount Hiei, rebuilding had been going on for two or three years, and the streets of Sakamoto were slowly taking on their former appearance. As the two riders passed through the village and turned off on the path going up to the Enryaku Temple, the morning sun finally began to sparkle on the waters of the lake.
"What shall we do with the horses once we dismount on the way up?" Genemon asked.
"A new shrine has been built on the site of the old one. There must be farmhouses nearby. If not, it should be all right to leave them with a workman at the shrine itself."
A lone rider was whipping his horse to catch up with them.
"Isn't that someone calling us from behind?" Genemon asked with some concern.
"If there's someone chasing us, I'm sure it's Mitsuharu. Yesterday he looked as though he wanted to stop me from making this trip."
"He possesses a gentility and sincerity you rarely see in men these days. He's almost too gentle to be a samurai."
"It is Mitsuharu, just as I thought."
"He certainly seems determined to stop you, my lord."
"Well, I won't turn back, no matter what he says. Maybe he's not going to try to stop me. If he wanted to do that, he'd have grabbed my horse's bridle at the castle gate. Look, he's dressed for a mountain excursion, too."