If worst comes to worst, I assure you, my lord, that your wife will do nothing to disgrace your name. Your mother's and my only concern is that you overcome your own difficulties in these important times.

The first call of the conch shell echoed through the castle and the town.

Hideyoshi gave his final instructions to his retainers in Himeji Castle: "Victory and defeat are in the hands of fate, but if I should be struck down by Mitsuhide, set fire to the castle and make sure nothing remains. We have to act bravely, following the example of the man who died at the Honno Temple."

The second call sounded, and the supply train started off. As the sun began to set in the west, Hideyoshi had his camp stool moved outside the castle and had the third conch shell call blown. Night had fallen on the wide fields and on the pine trees lining the coastal road. From evening until well past midnight, the ground shook as ten thousand men formed into their divisions outside Himeji Castle.

Dawn broke and, one by one, the silhouettes of the pines along the road became visible. In the east, a perfectly red morning sun rose over the horizon of the Harima Sea between the clouds of dawn, as though urging the men forward.

"Look!" Hideyoshi called out. "We have a fair wind. Our banners and pennants are blowing east. I know that a man's fate is uncertain. We do not know whether we will live to see tomorrow's dawn, but heaven shows us the way forward. Let us raise a mighty w cry and inform heaven of our departure."

*   *   *

In the ten days since the death of Nobunaga, the national situation had changed dramatically. In Kyoto, the people had been uneasy since the Honno Temple incident. Nobunaga's two senior generals, Shibata Katsuie and Takigawa Kazumasu, were far away; Tokugawa Ieyasu had withdrawn to his own home province; Hosokawa Fujitaka's and Tsutsui Junkei's commitments were unclear; and Niwa Nagahide was in Osaka.

The rumor that Hideyoshi's army had arrived in Amagasaki, near Kyoto, spread like the wind on the morning of the eleventh. Many could not believe it. There were other rumors—that Lord Ieyasu was moving westward; that Nobunaga's eldest surviving son, Nobuo, was mounting a counterattack; that the Akechi were fighting here or there. The most believable rumor was that Hideyoshi's army was pinned down by the Mori at Takamatsu. Only those who knew Hideyoshi well did not fall into that error.

The skills Hideyoshi had shown in the invasion of the western provinces over the last five years had taught many of Nobunaga's other generals his true value. Among those men were Niwa Nagahide, Nakagawa Sebei, Takayama Ukon, and Ikeda Shonyu. They perceived Hideyoshi's loyalty under such long adversity as unswerving devotion to their former lord. When they heard that Hideyoshi had made peace with the Mori and was marching at full speed toward the capital, they were pleased that their expectations had not been disappointed. As Hideyoshi made his way eastward, they sent him urgent messages, pressing him to hurry and informing him of the latest movements of the Akechi troops.

When Hideyoshi arrived at Amagasaki, Nakagawa Sebei and Takayama Ukon each took part of their forces and visited Hideyoshi's camp.

When the two generals arrived, the samurai on guard duty at the gate did not seem overjoyed at their presence, nor did he hurry to announce their arrival. "His Lordship is resting just now," he informed them.

The two men were taken aback. Sebei and Ukon knew well their own value as allies. The military strength of the man they sided with would be doubled. In addition, the nearby castles controlled the entrance to Kyoto. Certainly, securing those two key castles, which were almost in the middle of enemy territory, would give Hideyoshi tremendous strategic and logistic advantages.

Thus, when they came to Hideyoshi's camp, they took it for granted that Hideyoshi himself would come out to welcome them. All that the two generals could do was wait. During that time, they watched the arrival of stragglers. All the while, messengers were coming and going in all directions. Among them was a samurai whom Nakagawa Sebei recognized.

"Isn't that a Hosokawa samurai?" he muttered.

It was well known that the relationship between Mitsuhide and Hosokawa Fujitaka was very close. The two men had been close friends for many years, and their families were linked by marriage.

What is a messenger from the Hosokawa doing here? Sebei asked himself. This was a matter that concerned not only the two generals waiting to see Hideyoshi but the entire nation.

"He said Lord Hideyoshi was sleeping, but I think he's wide awake. He's being rather rude, no matter what he's doing," Ukon complained.

They were about to leave when one of Hideyoshi's pages ran up to them and invited them into the temple that served as Hideyoshi's headquarters. Hideyoshi was not in the room they were led into, but it was certain that he had been awake for some time. Loud laughter was coming from the abbot's quarters. This was not the kind of reception the two generals had anticipated. They had hurried here to ally themselves with Hideyoshi and strike at Mitsuhide. Ukon seemed vexed, a vaguely bitter look on his face; Sebei's expression was sullen.

The oppressive summer heat aggravated their dissatisfaction. The rainy season should have begun to clear by then, but the air refused to dry. In the sky, the clouds moved back and forth in an unsettled way, as if reflecting the state of the nation. From time to time the sun shone through the clouds with an intense brilliance that was enough to make a man feverish.

"It's hot, Sebei," Ukon commented.

"Yes, and there's no wind at all."

Naturally, the two men wore full armor. Even though modern armor had become lighter and more flexible, there was no doubt that beneath the leather breastplates, their sweat ran in rivulets.

Sebei opened his fan and cooled himself. Then, to show that they did not rank lower than Hideyoshi, Sebei and Ukon made a point of moving to the seats reserved for men of the highest rank.

Just then, a shout of greeting came in with the breeze. It was Hideyoshi, and as soon he sat down in front of the men, he apologized profusely. "I'm really sorry to have been so rude. When I got up, I went over to the main temple; and while I was having my head shaved," he said, patting his bald head, "a messenger from Hosokawa Fujitaka arrived with an urgent dispatch. So I had to talk with him first and make you wait."

He sat in his usual way, oblivious to distinctions of rank. The two men forgot their formal greetings and simply stared at Hideyoshi's freshly shaved head, which reflected the green of the trees of the neighboring garden.

"At least my head is cool in this heat," Hideyoshi added with a grin. "Taking the tonsure is very refreshing."

Looking a little self-conscious, Hideyoshi vigorously rubbed his scalp. When Sebei and Ukon saw that Hideyoshi had gone so far as to shave his head for the sake of their former lord they forgot their earlier displeasure and instead felt ashamed of their own pettiness.

The only trouble was that each time they looked at Hideyoshi they wanted to laugh. Although no one called him Monkey to his face anymore, his former nickname and his present appearance provoked a certain feeling of amusement.

"Your speed surprised us," Sebei started. "You must not have slept at all between here and Takamatsu. We're relieved to see that you're in good health," he went on, fighting to stifle his laughter.

"You know," Hideyoshi said ingratiatingly, "I very much appreciated the reports you sent me. Because of them I was able to know the movements of the Akechi, and, more important, that the two of you were my allies."

Neither Sebei nor Ukon was so soft-headed that flattery could take him in. Almost ignoring Hideyoshi's last remark, they quickly began to give him advice.