That night Hideyoshi fell into contented slumber—one that even the song of the mountain cuckoo could not disturb.

Tomorrow we'll get to Fuchu Castle, Hideyoshi thought just before going to sleep. But how will Inuchiyo receive us?

What was Inuchiyo doing at that time? He had passed through the area at noon that same day and, while the sun was still high in the sky, had withdrawn his army into Fuchu, his son’s castle.

“Thank the gods you're safe," his wife said as she came out to greet him.

“Take care of the wounded. You can look to me later on."

Inuchiyo did not even take off his sandals or untie his armor; he just stood in front of the castle.  His pages were also there, lined up behind him, solemnly waiting.

Finally, corps after corps of warriors marched smartly through the gate, carrying the corpses of their fallen comrades, on top of which they had laid their banners. Next, those wounded in battle were either carried in or walked in, leaning on their comrades' shoulders.

The thirty-odd casualties the Maeda had suffered in the retreat did not compare with the losses of the Shibata and Sakuma. The bell was rung at the temple, and as the sun dipped in the sky, the smoke from cooking fires began to rise from all parts of the castle.  The order was given for the soldiers to eat their rations. The troops, however, did not disperse, but stayed in their units, as if they were still on the battlefield.

A guard at the main gate yelled, "The lord of Kitanosho has arrived at the castle

“What! Lord Katsuie here!" Inuchiyo muttered in astonishment. This was an unexpected development, and Inuchiyo seemed unable to bear to meet the man—now a fugitive.  For a moment he was sunk in thought, but then he said, "Let's go out to greet him."

Inuchiyo followed his son out of the keep. Descending the last set of stairs, he walked to the drkened connecting corridor. One of his attendants, Murai Nagayori, followed after him.

“My lord," Murai whispered.

Inuchiyo looked at Murai questioningly.

The retainer whispered in his lord's ear, "Lord Katsuie's arrival here is an incomparable and happy opportunity. If you kill him and send his head to Lord Hideyoshi, your and Lord Hideyoshi's relationship will be patched up without difficulty."

Without warning Inuchiyo struck the man in the chest. "Shut up!" he thundered.

Murai staggered back to fhe wooden wall behind him and just barely avoided falling over.  Turning pale, he had the presence of mind neither to stand up nor to sit completely down.

Glaring at him, Inuchiyo spoke with undisguised anger. "It is an outrageous act to whisper into a lord's ear an immoral, cowardly plan that a man should be ashamed to utter.  You consider yourself a samurai, but you know nothing of the Way of the Samurai!  What kind of man would sell the head of a general who had come knocking at his gate, just to profit his own clan? Much less when he's spent as many years campaigning with that general as I have!"

Leaving the trembling Murai behind, Inuchiyo went out toward the main entrance togreet Katsuie. Katsuie had come up to the castle gate still on horseback. He held the shaft of a broken spear in one hand and did not appear to be wounded, but his entire face—his entire being—was suffused with desolation.

The reins of his horse were held by Toshinaga, who had run out to greet him. The eight men who accompanied him had stayed outside the main gate. So Katsuie was alone.

"I'm greatly obliged to you." With those courteous words to Toshinaga, Katsuie dismounted. He looked Inuchiyo in the face and spoke in a loud voice full of self-scorn. "We lost! We lost!"

He was in surprisingly good spirits. It may have been that he was just pretending, but he seemed far more relaxed than Inuchiyo had imagined he would be. Inuchiyo was kinder than usual in greeting the defeated general. Toshinaga was no less concerned than his father and helped the fugitive take off his blood-soaked sandals.

"I feel as though I've come home to my own house."

Kindness makes a deep impression on a man in the abyss of destruction and causes him to abandon any suspicions and bitterness. It is the only thing that will make him think that there is still light in the world.

Apparently now quite happy, Katsuie continued to congratulate father and son on their escape. "This defeat was entirely due to my own oversights. I brought troubles onto you, too, and I hope you'll forgive me," he apologized. "I'll retreat as far as Kitanosho and put my affairs in order and without any regrets. I wonder if you wouldn't give me a bowl of rice and tea."

Demon Shibata seemed to have become the Buddha Shibata. Even Inuchiyo was unable to hold back his tears.

"Bring some tea and rice quickly. And sake" Inuchiyo ordered. He could think of few words of comfort for the man. Nevertheless, he felt that he had to say something. "It's often said that victory and defeat are the stuff of a warrior's life. If you consider today's disaster in terms of human destiny, you know that to be proud of victory is the first step toward the day of destruction, and to be completely defeated is the first step toward the day of victory. The eternal cycle of man's rise and fall is not just a matter of temporary joy and sorrow."

"Therefore, what I regret is neither my own personal destruction nor the perpetual cycle of change," Katsuie said. "I only regret the loss of my reputation. But rest assured, Inuchiyo. It is all predestined."

For him to say such a thing was a complete departure from the Katsuie of olden days. But he seemed to be neither tormented nor confused.

When the sake arrived, Katsuie happily took a cup and, supposing that it would be his farewell, poured one for father and son as well. He heartily ate the simple meal Inuchiyo had ordered.

"I've never tasted anything like the rice I've eaten today. I'll never forget your kindness." That said, he took his leave.

Inuchiyo, who accompanied him outside, immediately noticed that his mount was exhausted. Ordering a page to bring out his own beloved dapple-gray horse, he offered it to Katsuie. "Put your mind at ease," Inuchiyo said. "We will hold this place until you get to Kitanosho."

Katsuie started to leave but then turned the horse around and came up to Inuchiyo as though he had suddenly remembered something. "Inuchiyo, you and Hideyoshi have been close friends since your youth. The battle having turned out this way, I release you from your duty to me as a retainer."

Those were to be his last words to Inuchiyo. As he mounted his horse, his expression was devoid of any falsehood. Confronted with such feeling, Inuchiyo bowed with heartfelt emotion. The figure of Katsuie leaving the castle gate was black against the red of the evening sun. The tiny remaining army of eight mounted men and ten or so foot soldiers now took flight to Kitanosho.

Two or three mounted men galloped into Fuchu Castle. Their news was soon common  knowledge throughout the stronghold. "The enemy is camped at Wakimoto. Lord Hideyoshi has set up camp at Imajo, so there is little prospect of an attack tonight."

Hideyoshi slept happily through the night—really more like half the night—at Imajo, and on the following day he left camp early and rode to Wakimoto.

Kyutaro came out to greet him. He erected the commander's standard, indicating the presence of the commander-in-chief.

"What went on in Fuchu Castle last night?" Hideyoshi asked.

"There appeared to be a great deal of activity."

"Are they fortifying the place? Maybe the Maeda want to fight." Answering his own question, he looked toward Fuchu. Suddenly he turned to Kyutaro and ordered him to prepare his troops.

"Are you going into battle in person?" Kyutaro asked.

"Of course." Hideyoshi nodded as though he were looking out over a large level road.  Kyutaro quickly communicated Hideyoshi's words to the various generals and blew the conch shell to assemble the vanguard. Very soon the men had fallen into ranks, ready to march.