At the heart of the central army, which acted as a reserve corps, were the five thousand men directly under Mitsuhide at Onbozuka. At their right were four thousand more men, including two thousand under Fujita Dengo.

Dengo sounded the large drum and the men fanned out into a line of battle. The men of the archers' corps in front released their ghastly rain of arrows in whining unison, and immediately the enemy returned the action with a hail of bullets.

As a command from Dengo cut through the air, the archers dispersed and the gun­ners took their place. Without waiting an instant for the shroud of gunpowder smoke to clear, armored warriors with iron spears appeared before the enemy and began to cut their way through. Dengo and his hand-picked troops routed the Hachiya corps.

Taking that corps' place, the soldiers under Nobutaka resumed the attack and struck against the Akechi forces. But Dengo defeated them as well, chasing them back. For the time being, Dengo's troops seemed to have no worthy opponent.

The drum of the Fujita corps boomed. It seemed to express the clan's pride in being without rival, and it menaced the mounted samurai who had crowded in a protective ring around Nobutaka, causing them to mill about in confusion.

Just then, a corps of five hundred soldiers attacked the Fujita corps' flank, yelling war cries as though they made up a large army.

The clouds were still vaguely red, but on the ground it was already dark. Dengo was reflecting that he had gone too far, and changed his instructions.

"Shift to the right!" he commanded. "Turn! Turn as far as you can toward the right!" His intention was to have the entire force make a circle to rejoin the central army and then fight on firmly.

Suddenly, however, a unit under the command of Hori Kyutaro attacked fiercely from the left. To Dengo, it was as though enemy soldiers had suddenly bubbled up from the earth.

There was no way to retreat, Dengo realized at once, but there was also no time to correct his formation. The Hori warriors cut off his men with the speed of the wind and began to encircle them.

Nobutaka's standard seemed to flutter closer and closer to Dengo.

Just at that point, a band of five hundred men, including Dengo's son and his younger brother, promptly rode out in a black cluster and galloped fearlessly into the en­emy. The night had grown dark. The wind carried the cries of the life-and-death struggles and filled the sky with the smell of blood.

Nobutaka's corps was respected as being the strongest among the divisions of Hideyoshi's army, and now it was reinforced with the three thousand men under the command of Niwa Nagahide. Brave and spirited as Dengo and his men were, they could not break through the enemy line.

Dengo was wounded in six places. Finally, after fighting and whirling about on his horse for so long, he began to lose consciousness. Suddenly a voice came from the darkness behind him.

Thinking it to be the voice of his son, he raised his head from the horse's mane  Just at that moment something struck him above the right eye. It felt like a star falling from heaven, hitting him on the forehead.

"Stay in the saddle! Hang on tight to the saddle! An arrow has glanced off you, and you have a light wound on your forehead." "Who is it? Who's holding me up?"

"It's me, Tozo."

"Ah, brother. What's happened to Ise Yosaburo?"

"He's already been cut down in battle."

"What about Suwa?"

"Suwa is dead too."

"And Denbei?"

"He's still surrounded by the enemy. Now let me accompany you. Lie against the front ring of your saddle."

Without talking further about Denbei's being either dead or alive, Tozo took themuzzle of his brother's horse and fled at top speed through the chaos.

The Two Gates

A lonely wind blew through the pines that grew around Mitsuhide's camp at Onbozuka. The curtain of the enclosure swelled in the wind like a large white living thing. It flapped incessantly, singing an eerie, uneasy dirge.

"Yoji, Yoji!" Mitsuhide called.

"Yes, my lord!"

"Was that a messenger?"

"Yes, my lord."

"Why didn't he report directly to me?"

"The report has not yet been confirmed."

"Is there a rule about what can and cannot reach my ears?" Mitsuhide asked, annoyed.

"I'm sorry, my lord."

"Take courage! Are you losing your nerve over bad omens?"

"No, my lord. But I fully expect to die."

"Really?"

Mitsuhide was suddenly aware of his shrill tone, and lowered his voice. He then considered that perhaps he himself should listen to the words with which he had just reproved Yojiro. The wind made a much more lonely sound than in the day. Vegetable gardens and fields lay beyond the gentle slope. To the east was Kuga Nawate; to the north, mountains; to the west, the Enmyoji River. But in the darkness, only the pale twinkling of stars shone over the battlefield.

Only three hours had passed between the Hour of the Monkey and the second half of the Hour of the Rooster. Mitsuhide's banners had filled the field. Where were they now?  All had been struck down. He had listened to the names of dead men until he was no longer able to keep count.

It had only taken three hours. There was no doubt that Yojiro had just now received one more piece of bad news. And he had lost the courage to relay the matter to Mitsuhide. Reprimanded by his lord, Yojiro once again descended the hill. Looking around, he  feebly leaned against the trunk of a pine and stared up at the stars.

A horseman rode up to Yojiro and halted in front of him.

"Friend or foe!" Yojiro shouted, challenging the stranger with the spear he had been using as a staff.

"Friend," the rider replied as he dismounted.

Just by looking at the shambling gait of the man, Yojiro could see that he was seriously wounded. Yojiro walked toward him and offered him his arm.

"Gyobu!" Yojiro said, recognizing his comrade. "Hold fast! Lean on me."

"Is that Yojiro? Where is Lord Mitsuhide?"

"On top of the hill."

"He's still here? This is a dangerous place for him now. He must leave right away.”

Gyobu went up to Mitsuhide and prostrated himself in front of him, almost falling on his face. "The entire army has been routed. The dying fell on top of the dead; so many achieved glorious deaths in battle that I cannot remember their names."

Looking up, he could only see Mitsuhide's white face. It seemed as though it were floating beneath the dark shape of the pines. Mitsuhide said nothing, as though he had not been listening.

Gyobu went on, "At one point, we pressed close on Hideyoshi's center, but when darkness fell our retreat was cut off, and we could no longer find Lord Dengo. General Sanzaemon's division was surrounded by the enemy, and extremely bitter fighting ensued. He was able to escape with only two hundred men. His last words were, 'Go immediately to Onbozuka and tell His Lordship to withdraw to Shoryuji Castle as fast as he can, and then either prepare to hold the castle or retreat toward Omi during the night. I will act as his rear guard until then. After we receive news that His Lordship has withdrawn, we will gallop straight into Hideyoshi's camp and fight to the death.'"

Mitsuhide was still silent. When Gyobu had finished giving his report, he collapsed and breathed his last.

Mitsuhide stared at him from his seat and then looked vacantly at Yojiro. He asked "Were Gyobu's wounds deep?"

"Yes, my lord," Yojiro answered, tears filling his eyes.

"He seems to be dead."

"Yes, my lord."

"Yojiro," Mitsuhide suddenly said in an entirely different tone. "What did the previous messenger report?"

"I will not conceal anything from you, my lord. Tsutsui Junkei's army appeared on the field and attacked our left wing. Saito Toshimitsu and his entire corps did not have the strength to hold them off, and they were completely routed."