"He will be accompanied by a few retainers and thirty or forty pages."

"What! He'll be going to Kyoto with so small an entourage?"

Mitsuharu had remained quietly in the background, but now that Mitsuhide, too, had sunk into silence, he dismissed Shinshi.

After Shinshi left, Mitsuharu and Mitsuhide were alone. Mitsuhide looked as though he wanted to open his heart to his cousin, but in the end, Mitsuharu did not give him the chance. Instead, Mitsuharu spoke of loyalty to Nobunaga and urged Mitsuhide to hasten to the western provinces so as not to offend his lord.

The upright character his cousin displayed was characterized by a strong and loving quality upon which Mitsuhide had relied for the last forty years, and he had faith in him now as the most dependable man in his clan. Therefore, even though Mitsuharu's attitude was not in tune with Mitsuhide's own innermost feelings, he was unable to be angry with him or try to pressure him.

After some moments of utter silence Mitsuhide suddenly said, "Let's send an advance party tonight to my retainers at Kameyama and have them prepare for the campaign as quickly as possible. Would you arrange that, Mitsuharu?"

Mitsuharu stood up happily.

That night, a small party of men hurried toward Kameyama Castle.

At about the fourth watch, Mitsuhide suddenly sat up. Had he been dreaming? Or had he been considering something and had decided against it? A little while later he pulled the coverlet over himself again, buried his face in the pillow, and tried to get back sleep.

Was it mist or rain? The sound of the waves in the lake, or the wind blowing down Mount Hiei? The wind from the mountain did not stop playing through the eaves of the mansion all night. Although it did not find its way inside, the candle at Mitsuhide's pillow flickered as though it were being shaken by an evil spirit.

Mitsuhide turned over. Although it was the season of short nights, to him it seemed that the morning was long in coming. Finally, just as his breathing had become deep and even, once again he suddenly pushed away his covers and sat up with a start.

"Is anyone there?" he called toward the pages' quarters.

Sliding doors were opened far away. The page on night watch silently entered and prostrated himself.

"Tell Matabei to come right away," Mitsuhide ordered.

Everyone in the samurai quarters was asleep, but as several of Mitsuhide's retainers had left for Kameyama the previous evening, those who had stayed behind were tense, not knowing when their lord, Mitsuhide, might himself depart. Each man had gone to bed that evening with his traveling clothes next to his pillow.

"Did you summon me, my lord?"

Yomoda Matabei had quickly appeared. He was a robust young man who had caught Misuhide's eye. Mitsuhide motioned him closer and whispered an order to him.

Upon receiving secret orders from Mitsuhide, the young man's face registered strong emotion.

"I'll go at once!" he answered, responding to his lord's trust with his entire being.

"You'll be recognized as an Akechi samurai, so go quickly—before dawn breaks. Have your wits about you, and don't blunder."

After Matabei had withdrawn, there was still some time before it would begin to grow light and it was only now that Mitsuhide was able to sleep soundly. Contrary to his usual practice, he did not leave his room until broad daylight. Many of his retainers had guessed that the departure for Kameyama would take place that day and had expected an early announcement to that effect. They were quite surprised when they discovered that their lord was sleeping so uncommonly late.

At about noon, Mitsuhide's relaxed voice could be heard in the hall.

"I spent the entire day walking around the mountain yesterday and slept better last night than I have for a long time. Maybe that's why I feel so good today. I seem to have completely recovered from my cold."

A look of congratulations that might as well have reflected on their own improved health circulated among his retainers. Soon after that Mitsuhide issued a command to his attendants.

"This evening in the second half of the Hour of the Rooster, we will depart Sakamoto, cross the Shirakawa River, pass through northern Kyoto, and return to Kameyama. Make sure that all of the preparations are complete."

More than three thousand warriors were to accompany him to Kameyama. Evening was approaching, Mitsuhide dressed in his traveling clothes and then went to find Mitsuharu.

"Since I will be going to the western provinces, I have no idea when I will be back. This evening I'd like to sit down and eat dinner with you and your family."

And so they were once again altogether as a family circle until Mitsuhide departed.

The eldest person at the banquet was Mitsuhide's eccentric uncle, Chokansai, a man who had taken holy orders. Sixty-six years old that year and free from any illness, he was given to telling jokes. He sat next to Mitsuharu's seven-year-old son, teasing him good-naturedly.

But the sociable old man was the only one who smiled from beginning to end. Igno­rant of the hidden reefs now threatening the Akechi clan, he simply entrusted his re­maining years to the ship that passed over the spring sea, and looked as peaceful as ever.

"It's so lively here, I feel as though I've returned home again. Old man, give this cup to Mitsutada."

Mitsuhide had already drunk two or three cups and now passed the cup on to Chokansai, who in turn handed it to Mitsutada.

Mitsutada was the commander of Hachijo Castle and so had just arrived today. He was the youngest of the three cousins.

Mitsutada drank the sake and, moving over in front of Mitsuhide, returned the cup to him. Mitsuharu's wife held the sake bottle and poured, and just at that moment Mitsu­hide's hand began to tremble in alarm. Ordinarily he was not the kind of man to be sur­prised by a sound, but now, as a warrior started to beat a drum in front of the castle, the color seemed to recede slightly from his face.

Chokansai turned to Mitsuhide and said, "It will soon be the Hour of the Rooster, so that must be the drum summoning your troops to the assembly ground."

Mitsuhide's mood seemed to sink even more. "I know," he said in what sounded like a bitter tone of voice, and he drained the last cup.

He was mounted within the hour. Beneath a sky of pale stars, three thousand men carrying torches left the lakeside castle in a meandering line and disappeared into the foothills of Shimeigatake. It was the evening of the twenty-sixth.

From the top of the castle Mitsuharu watched them go. He would form a regiment made up only of retainers from Sakamoto, and go on to join the main army at Kameyama later.

The army under Mitsuhide walked on without stopping. It was exactly midnight when the men looked from just south of Shimeigatake and saw the sleeping city of Kyoto.

To cross the Shirakawa River, they would descend the ridge of Mount Uriyu and come out on the road south of the Ichijo Temple. They had been climbing steadily, but from that point on the path would be all downhill.

"Take a rest!"

Mitsutada passed Mitsuhide's command on to the troops.

Mitsuhide dismounted as well and rested for a short while. If it had been daytime, he would have been able to look out over the various streets of the capital. But now the contours of the city were sunk in darkness, and only the distinctive features of the temple roofs and pagodas and the large river could be distinguished.

"Hasn't Yomoda Matabei overtaken us?"

"I haven't seen him since last night. Did you send him off on some mission, my lord?"

"That's right."

"Where did he go?"

"You'll know soon enough. If he comes back, send him to me. Even if we're en route."

"Yes, my lord."

In the second he fell silent, Mitsuhide's eyes were again looking eagerly out over the black roofs of the capital. Perhaps because the night mist would keep thickening and then thinning out, or because his eyes were becoming used to the night, he was gradually able to distinguish the buildings in the capital. The white walls of the Nijo Palace were brighter than anything else.