Whether or not he heard the rumors, Hideyoshi was unconcerned. He had no leisure to listen to gossip. In the Sixth Month, Nobunaga had died; in the middle of that month, the battle had been fought at Yamazaki; in the Seventh Month, the conference at Kiyosu had been held; at the end of that month, Hideyoshi had withdrawn from Nagahama, moving his family to Himeji; and in the Eighth Month, he had begun construction on Takadera Castle. Now he continued to go back and forth between Kyoto and Yamazaki. If he was in Kyoto, in the morning he would be bowing at the Imperial Palace; in the afternoon he would be inspecting the city, in the evening he would look over governmental matters, send out replies to letters, and greet guests; at midnight he would review letters from distant provinces; and at dawn he would make decisions concerning the petitions of his subordinates. Every day he would whip his horse off somewhere while still chewing the food from his last meal.
He frequendy had a number of destinations—the mansion of a court noble, meetings, unspections—and recendy he had been heading off repeatedly toward the northern part of Kyoto. It was there that he had ordered an enormous construction project to be started. Within the grounds of the Daitoku Temple, he had begun to build yet another temple, the Sokenin.
“It must be completed by the seventh day of the Tenth Month. Finish clearing the area by the eighth day, and complete preparations for all the ceremonies by the ninth day. There should be nothing left to be done by the tenth day."
This he said very firmly to Hikoemon and to his brother-in-law, Hidenaga. No matter what construction project Hideyoshi undertook, he would not change the time limit.
The memorial service was held within a lamplit shrine that was one hundred eighty-four yards wide. The brightly colored canopy sparkled, the thousands of lanterns looked like stars, and the smoke from the incense drifted among the fluttering banners, creating purple clouds above the heads of the crowds of mourners.
Among the priests alone, venerable scholars from the five major Zen temples and priests from the eight Buddhist sects attended. People of the time who observed the service described it as though the five hundred arhats and the three thousand disciples of the Buddha were all before their very eyes.
After the ceremonies of reading from the sutras and scattering flowers before the Buddha had taken place, the Zen abbots paid their respects. Finally, Abbot Soken recited the parting gatha and, with all of his strength, yelled "Kwatz!" For an instant all was hushed. Then, as the solemn music was played once again, the lotus flowers fell, and one by one the participants offered incense at the altar.
Among the mourners, however, about half of the Oda relatives who undoubtedly should have attended were absent. Samboshi had not appeared, neither had Nobutaka, Katsuie, or Takigawa.
But perhaps most unfathomable of all were the intentions of Tokugawa Ieyasu. After the Honno Temple incident, he was in a unique position. What his thoughts were, or how his cold eyes regarded present events, no one was able to judge.
9 TENTH YEAR OF TENSHO 1582 WINTER
Characters and Places
Fuwa Hikozo, senior Shibata retainer
Kanamori Gorohachi, senior Shibata retainer
Sassa Narimasa, senior Oda retainer
and ally of Shibata Katsuie
Sakuma Yasumasa, Genba's brother
Menju Shosuke, Shibata Katsuie's page
Yamaji Shogen, retainer of Shibata Katsutoyo
Maeda Toshinaga, Inuchiyo's son
Echizen, province of the Shibata clan
Kitanosho, main castle of the Shibata clan
Fuchu, Maeda Toshinaga's castle
The Snows of Echizen
Day and night, the snow fell on wintry Echizen, leaving no opening through which a man could free his heart. But within the castle walls of Kitanosho, it was warmer than usual that year. That uncommon state of affairs was due to the presence of Lady Oichi and her three daughters. The lady herself was rarely seen, but her daughters could not bear to be confined to their apartments. The eldest, Chacha, was fifteen, the middle sister eleven, and the youngest only nine. To these girls, even falling leaves were a cause for wonder, and their laughter rang through the corridors of the citadel.
Katsuie was drawn by their voices to the women's quarters, where he hoped to forget his many cares amid their gay laughter, but whenever he appeared, the expressions on the faces of the girls darkened, and they neither laughed nor smiled. Even Lady Oichi was solemn and quiet, beautiful and cold.
"Please come in, my lord," she would say, inviting him to sit by the small silver fretwork brazier.
Even after their marriage, they spoke to each other with the formality of a retainer addressing a member of his lord's family.
"Your loneliness must be all the greater when you see the snow and feel the cold of this place for the first time, my lady," Katsuie said sympathetically.
"Not so much, my lord," Oichi replied, but it was clear that she longed for a warmer land. "When do the snows of Echizen begin to melt?" she asked.
"This is not Gifu or Kiyosu. When the rape flowers are blooming and the cherry blossoms are beginning to fall there, these mountains are still patched with melting snow."
"And until then?"
"It's like this every day."
“You mean it never melts?"
“Just snow a thousand feet deep!" Katsuie replied sharply. Upon being reminded of the length of time the snow would cover Echizen, his heart was filled with bitter resentment. Thus he was unable to spend even a moment's leisure with his family. Katsuie returned to the citadel as quickly as he had left. Accompanied by his pages, he walked off in great strides along the roofed corridor through which the snowy wind was blowing. As soon as he had gone, the three girls went out to the veranda to sing songs, not of Echizen but of their native Owari.
Katsuie did not look back. Before entering the main citadel, he ordered one of his pages, "Tell Gozaemon and Gohei to come to my room at once."
Both men were important retainers of the Shibata clan, and elders upon whom Katsuie relied.
'Did you send a messenger to Maeda Inuchiyo?" Katsuie asked Gozaemon.
“Yes, my lord. He left a little while ago," the man replied. "Did you want to add something to it, my lord?"
Katsuie nodded silently; he seemed to be lost in thought. The previous evening a council of the entire clan had discussed a weighty matter: Hideyoshi. And their decision not been a passive one. They had the whole winter to carry out a plan: Takigawa Kazumasu was to rally Ise; Nobutaka was to persuade Gamo Ujisato to join them, and to request assistance from Niwa Nagahide; Katsuie himself would write to Tokugawa Ieyasu to sound out his intentions; and a messenger had already been sent to the scheming old shogun, Yoshiaki. Finally, it was hoped that when the moment came, the Mori would attack Hideyoshi from the rear.
That was the plan, but Ieyasu's attitude was totally unclear. And although it was easy to tempt Yoshiaki's inconstancy, there seemed to be little hope of persuading the Mori to unite with their cause. Not only that, but Gamo Ujisato, the man to be drawn in by Nobutaka, was already allied to Hideyoshi, while Niwa stood tactfully in the center, declaring that he could not take sides with any of his former lord's retainers, and that he would only stand in the defense of the rightful heir, Lord Samboshi.
During this time, Hideyoshi was holding in Kyoto the magnificent memorial service for Nobunaga that had attracted the attention of the entire nation. Hideyoshi's increasing fame was making the proud Katsuie think about whether he should act and how fast. But nountains of Echizen responded to Katsuie's scheming with snow. He planned great campaigns, but he could not move his army to fight them.