When she opened the gate and looked around, Tokichiro was already running away without looking back. As he reached the corner at the first crossroads, he turned around. She stood outside the gate, with a puzzled look on her pale face. Tokichiro wondered if she wasn't angry with him, but at the same time he began to think about his departure the following morning. He was accompanying Lord Nobunaga, and he had been forbid­den from saying anything about the trip to others. This included Nene. Having caught a glimpse of her and knowing she was well, Tokichiro was his old self again, and he went home at full speed. When he fell asleep, his dreams were free from preoccupation.

Gonzo woke his master earlier than usual. Tokichiro splashed his face with water, ate his morning meal, and prepared himself for the trip.

"I'm off!" he announced, but did not tell his servant where he was going. And, a little before the agreed time, he arrived at Doke Seijuro's house.

"Hey, Monkey! Are you going today too?" asked a country samurai standing at Seijuro's gate.

"Inuchiyo!" Tokichiro looked at his friend with surprise. It was not just that he was surprised that Inuchiyo was coming, but that his appearance had been transformed; from the way he tied his hair right down to his leggings, Inuchiyo was dressed like a samurai right out of the backwoods.

"What is it all about?" Tokichiro asked.

"Everybody's already here. Hurry on in."

"What about you?"

"Me? I've been appointed gatekeeper for a while. I'll join you later."

Tokichiro lingered in the garden just inside the gate. For a moment he didn't know which path to take. Doke Seijuro's dwelling was an unusual old house, even to Tokichiro's eyes. He couldn't tell exactly how old it was. It seemed to be left over from an earlier age, when whole families had lived together in one large enclosure. A long, multiroomed house, smaller outhouses, gates within gates, and countless paths covered the entire grounds.

“Monkey! Over here!" Another country samurai was beckoning to him from a gate near the garden. He recognized the man as Ikeda Shonyu. Entering the garden, he found twenty or so retainers dressed up as country samurai. Tokichiro had also been informed of this plan, and he looked the most countrified of all.

A group of seventeen or eighteen mountain ascetics were resting around the edges of courtyard. They, too, were disguised Oda samurai. Nobunaga seemed to be in a small room on the far side of the courtyard. Naturally, he too was in disguise.

Tokichiro and the others were relaxed. No one asked any questions. No one knew. But they speculated.

"His Lordship is disguised as the son of a country samurai traveling with a few retainers. He's waiting for all of his attendants to arrive. He's probably going to a distant province, but I wonder if anyone knows where we're really going?"

"I haven't heard much, but when I was called to Hayashi Sado's residence, I overheard someone say something about the capital."

"The capital?" and everyone gulped.

Nothing could be more dangerous, and Nobunaga must have some secret plan in mind if he was going there. Unobserved by the others, Tokichiro nodded in agreement and went out into the vegetable garden.

A few days later, the group of country samurai that would accompany Nobunaga and the company of mountain ascetics, who would guard him at a distance, set out for the capital.

The first group posed as country samurai from the eastern provinces, who were going on a sightseeing trip to Kyoto. The men looked relaxed as they walked. They hid the fierce light that had shone in their eyes at Okehazama, and took on the rough looks and slow speech of those they pretended to be.

Their lodgings had been arranged by Doke in a house on the outskirts of the capital.  When he walked around Kyoto, Nobunaga always had the brim of his hat pulled down over his eyes, and he was dressed like a simple provincial. His attendants numbered four or five men at the most. If assassins had known who he was, he would have made an easy target.

There were days when he would let himself go completely and walk all day among the crowds and dust of Kyoto. And there were evenings when he would suddenly leave at some inopportune hour to call upon the mansions of courtiers and hold secret talks.

The young samurai understood neither the motives of these actions nor why he dared to take on this venture in the dangerous tumult of a country at war with itself. Tokichiro, of course, had no reason to understand such circumstances either. But he himself used the time for observation. The capital has changed, he thought. During the time he had wandered the country selling needles, he had often come here to buy supplies. Counting on his fingers, he figured it had only been about six or seven years before, but the conditions around the Imperial Palace had changed remarkably.

The shogunate still existed, but Ashikaga Yoshiteru, the thirteenth shogun, held the office in name only. Like the water in a deep pool, the culture and morale of the people stagnated. Everything had the feel of the end of an era. The real authority rested in the hands of his vice-governor-general, Miyoshi Nagayoshi, but he in turn had abdicated control in almost all areas to one of his retainers, Matsunaga Hisahide. This resulted in unsightly dissension and in an inefficient and tyrannical administration. The gossip of the common people was that Mastunaga's rule would soon collapse of its own accord.

What was the trend of the times? Nobody knew. The lights burned brightly every night, but the people were lost in the darkness. Tomorrow is tomorrow, they thought, and a directionless, helpless current flowed through their lives like a muddy stream.

If the administration of Miyoshi and Matsunaga was considered unreliable, what

about those provincial governors who had been appointed by the shogun? Men like Akamatsu, Toki, Kyogoku, Hosokawa, Uesugi, and Shiba all faced similar problems in their own provinces.

It was just at this point that Nobunaga made his secret trip to the capital. This was something that no other provincial warlord had dreamed of doing. Imagawa Yoshimoto had marched on Kyoto at the head of a great army. His ambition—to be granted an im­perial mandate, and thereby control the shogun and rule the country—was cut off halfway, but he was only the first to try. Every other great lord in the country considered Imagawa's plans to be the best. But only Nobunaga was bold enough to travel to Kyoto alone and prepare for the future.

After several meetings with Miyoshi Nagayoshi, Nobunaga finally secured an interview with Shogun Yoshiteru. Naturally he went to the Miyoshi mansion in his usual dis­guise, changed into formal dress, and went to the shogun's palace.

The shogunal dwelling was a luxurious palace gone to ruin. The luxury and wealth that had been created and then exhausted by thirteen successive shoguns was now noth­ing more than a half-remembered dream. All that remained was a self-serving and self-important administration.

"So you are Nobuhide's son, Nobunaga?" Yoshiteru said. There was no strength in his voice. His manners were perfect, but there was no life in them.

Nobunaga quickly perceived that there was no longer any vigor left in the office of shogun. Prostrating himself, he asked for the favor of Yoshiteru's acquaintance. But in the voice of the bowing man, there was a strength that overwhelmed his superior.

"I came to Kyoto incognito this time. I doubt if any of these local products from Owari will please the eye of a person from the capital." Presenting Yoshiteru with a list of gifts, he started to back away.

"Perhaps you would favor me by staying for dinner," Yoshiteru said.

Sake was served. From the banquet room they could view an elegant garden. In the evening darkness, the color of hydrangeas and the dew on the damp moss glittered in the lamplight.