as they danced with joy. He purposefully passed by on horseback to respond to the enthusiastic welcome of his people.
For Hideyoshi, however, there remained a very serious anxiety, and it grew even more intense after he entered Nagahama Castle. He burned with such impatience and longing that he could not stand idle even for a moment. Were his mother and wife safe?
After sitting down in the inner citadel, he asked the question over and over to each one of the generals who came and went. He was suddenly very worried about the condition of his family.
'We've looked everywhere for them, but no clear report has come in yet,' the generals said.
'Wasn't there anyone who knew anything about their whereabouts?' Hideyoshi asked.
'Well, we thought so,' one general answered. 'But none of the people seem to have seen them. When they fled the castle, their destination was kept an absolute secret.'
'I see. It must be true. If their whereabouts had leaked out to the common people the enemy would have given chase, and they would have been in danger.'
Hideyoshi met another general and discussed an entirely different subject. That day the enemy troops at Sawayama Castle had abandoned the fortress and fled in the direction of Wakasa. The general reported that the castle had been returned to the control of its former commander, Niwa Nagahide.
Ishida Sakichi and four or five other members of the pages' group suddenly returned hurriedly from an unknown destination. Before they got to Hideyoshi's room, happy voices could be heard bubbling up in the corridor and the pages' room, and Hideyoshi asked those around him, 'Has Sakichi come back? Why is he so slow in coming here?' He sent a man to rebuke him.
Ishida Sakichi had been born in Nagahama, and he knew the geography of the area better than anyone. He had thought, therefore, that now was the time to use his knowledge. He had been out on his own since noon, looking for the place where his lord’s mother and his wife might be hiding.
Sakichi knelt respectfully in front of Hideyoshi. According to his report, Hideyoshi's mother, his wife, and the rest of the household were hiding in the mountains a little more than ten leagues from Nagahama. It seemed that they were barely keeping body and soul together.
'Well, let's get ready to leave right away. If we go now, we should be able to get there tomorrow night,' Hideyoshi said, standing. He was nearly unable to restrain himself, so great was his impatience.
'Take care of things while I'm gone,' he ordered Kyutaro. 'Hikoemon is stationed at Otsu, and Lord Nobutaka is still at Azuchi.'
As Hideyoshi left the castle gate, he saw six or seven hundred men lined up and waiting for him. They had fought successive battles at Yamazaki and Sakamoto, and had had no time to rest even at Azuchi. The warriors had arrived only that morning, and their faces were still tired and muddy. Hideyoshi said, 'It will be enough if fifty horsemen come with me.
Hideyoshi only said this after the mounted men carrying torches had started to lead the procession. Almost all of the soldiers, then, were to stay behind.
'That's dangerous,' Kyutaro said. 'Fifty horsemen are too few. The road you'll take tonight passes close by Mount Ibuki, and enemy forces may still be hiding there.'
Both Kyutaro and Shonyu were especially vociferous in cautioning him, but Hideyoshi seemed convinced that there was no need for such concern. Answering that it was not worth worrying about, he ordered the men with the torches to lead the way. Leaving the castle gate, they went along the tree-lined road toward the northeast. Riding through the night until about the fourth watch, Hideyoshi progressed five leagues down the road without too much haste.
The group arrived at Sanjuin Temple at midnight. Hideyoshi had thought the monks would be taken completely by surprise, but to his amazement, when they opened the main gate, he saw that the inside of the temple was brilliantly lit with lanterns, water had been splashed over the grounds, and the entire area had been swept clean.
'Somebody must have come ahead and announced that I was coming.'
'It was me,' Sakichi announced.
'You?'
'Yes. I thought that you would probably be stopping here to rest, my lord, so I had a young man who is a fast runner come ahead and order meals prepared for fifty men.'
Sakichi had been an acolyte at Sanjuin Temple, but at twelve years of age he had been accepted by Hideyoshi as a page at Nagahama Castle. That had been eight years ago, and he had since become a twenty- year-old samurai. Sakichi had excellent good sense and was more quick-witted than most people.
At dawn, the outline of Mount Ibuki could be seen against the rose and pale blue hues of the sky, while nothing could be heard but the chirping of tiny birds. The dew was deep on the road, and darkness hung beneath the trees.
Hideyoshi looked happy. He knew that with every step he was getting closer to his mother and wife, and he seemed to mind neither the steep slope of the road nor his own fatigue. Now, the closer he approached Nishitani as the light increased on Mount Ibuki, the more he had the feeling of being held to his mother's breast.
No matter how long they climbed upstream along the Azusa River, they never seemed to come to its source. On the contrary, it opened up and they came out into a valley so wide that they might have forgotten they were in the middle of the mountains.
'That's Mount Kanakuso,' announced the monk who was acting as guide, and he pointed to a steep peak directly in front of them. He wiped the sweat from his forehead. The sun had climbed to the center of the sky, and the heat of midsummer was rising.
The monk walked on ahead again on the narrow path. After a while the path became so narrow that Hideyoshi and his attendants had to dismount. Just at that moment the men around Hideyoshi stopped.
'It looks like the enemy,' they said with alarm.
Hideyoshi and his small force had just climbed around the peak. There appeared to be a group of soldiers stationed on the mountainside in the distance. Those soldiers, too, seemed surprised, and they all stood up together. One of them seemed to be giving out commands while soldiers scattered in disorder.
'They could be remaining enemy soldiers,' someone said. 'I've heard that they've fled as far as Ibuki.'
That was, indeed, a possibility, and the gunners immediately ran forward. The order was quickly given to get ready for battle, but the two monks who were acting as guides called them back.
'It's not the enemy. They're the lookouts from the temple. Don't shoot!'
They then turned toward the mountain in the distance and made themselves understood by gesturing and yelling at the top of their voices.
With that, the soldiers began to descend the mountain like stones tumbling down a cliff. Very soon, an officer with a small banner affixed to his back ran down to them. Hideyoshi recognized him as a retainer from Nagahama.
The Daikichi Temple was nothing more than a small mountain temple. When it rained, water leaked through the roof. When the wind blew, the walls and beams shook. Nene lived and waited upon her mother-in-law in the main temple, while the ladies-in-waiting lived in the priests' quarters. The retainers who came later from Nagahama built small huts in the area or lodged in farmhouses in the village. So in those wretched conditions, a large family of over two hundred had lived for over two weeks.
By the time news of Nobunaga's murder reached them, the advance guard of the Akechi army was already in sight of the castle, and there was hardly time to think of what to do. Nene had written a letter to her husband in the far-off western provinces, but it was truly at the last moment. Taking her mother-in-law, she had abandoned the castle and fled, leaving everything behind. All she was able to do was load a packhorse with a change of clothes for her mother-in-law and the presents her husband had received from Nobunaga.
In that situation Nene felt the tragic resolve and the great responsibility of a woman’s lot. She was in charge of the castle in Hideyoshi's absence, and she had to serve his aged mother and run the large castle household. She must have wanted with all her heart the happiness of hearing her husband tell her that she had done well. He, however, was far
away on the battlefield. Until recently she had lived in the safety of a castle while her husband was on the battlefield, but now, suddenly, there was no distinction between them.
