destroyed his own family to gain the territories of Matsuda and Fukada Provinces. He forced one uncle to commit suicide and had another murdered. He killed his younger brother, whom their mother plotted to install as head of the family in his place. Later he slaughtered another brother to become the ruler of Owari Province. In savage battles, he destroyed the Imagawa, Takeda, and Saito clans and hundreds of thousands of their troops. By the time of his death at age forty-nine, he had strewn countless severed heads and rotting corpses across the countryside and conquered half the nation’s provinces.”
“Described that way, Oda Nobunaga sounds more like evil incarnate than like a great lord,” Sano said.
Noguchi laid the scroll aside. “You must remember that the clergy had no love for Oda Nobunaga. When the Ikko sect rebelled against him, he burned their temples and killed over forty thousand men, women, and children. But he was the quintessential warlord of his time-a master of
The low overcoming the high: the process by which a warrior rose to power by overthrowing his superiors. Few had practiced it as effectively as Oda Nobunaga.
“But one might imagine that the clergy found much satisfaction in the manner of Oda Nobunaga’s death,” Noguchi continued. “For as he lived by treachery and violence, so did he die by it. Here is the account of what happened one hundred seven years ago.” Opening another scroll, he read:
“While Lord Oda was enjoying a holiday at the Honno Temple in Kyoto with but a small force to guard him, he was besieged by the army of an ally turned traitor, General Akechi Mitsuhide. Lord Oda’s troops died in the attempt to defend their master. Lord Oda fought the attackers alone. An arquebus ball shattered his arm. With no hope of survival, he retired within the temple hall and committed
“An unspeakable act, the murder of one’s lord,” Sano said, feeling the horror that this transgression of Bushido always inspired in him.
“And one for which Akechi received just punishment,” Noguchi reminded him. “Lord Oda’s loyal allies, Toyotomi Hideyoshi and Tokugawa Ieyasu, fared much better.”
Sano quoted an old and apt saying: “ ‘Nobunaga quarried the stones to build the country’s foundations, Hideyoshi shaped the stones, and Ieyasu laid them in place. ’ ”
“Or: ‘Nobunaga ground the flour, Hideyoshi baked the cake, and Ieyasu ate it. ’ Heh, heh, heh.”
“Yes.” Sano smiled, appreciating Noguchi’s joke. No one could deny that Tokugawa Ieyasu and Toyotomi Hideyoshi had benefited from Oda’s ruthlessness-and his murder. Hideyoshi, Oda’s direct successor, had consolidated the domains he’d inherited. Ieyasu had eventually become the first shogun to rule over the unified nation whose construction his predecessors had begun. If not for Akechi Mitsuhide’s treason, neither might have achieved military supremacy.
Noguchi read aloud the account of the aftermath of Oda Nobunaga’s death.
“Yamazaki. General Toyotomi Hideyoshi, having received the news of Lord Oda’s death, immediately embarked on a seven-day march through wind and rain to seek vengeance upon the traitorous Akechi Mitsuhide.”
“Oh, my,” Noguchi interrupted himself. “Here is one of the names you seek.”
“Let me see!” Impatient with the archivist’s slow, ritualistic reading, Sano took the scroll from Noguchi.
“Among the force accompanying Hideyoshi were his commander, Endo Munetsugu, and General Fujiwara, one of Lord Oda’s most loyal retainers. The retribution they dealt Akechi was swift. After destroying Akechi’s small army, they killed Akechi as he fled, pleading in vain for mercy, through the fields.
“Then, on the crest of their glorious victory, General Fujiwara suddenly turned his troops upon Endo Munetsugu. Wielding his two swords, which had guards wrought in the image of death’s-heads, the great General Fujiwara cut down Endo’s soldiers, leaving carnage in his wake, and suffered grievous losses in turn. These two allies had become bitter enemies because-”
Here, to Sano’s distress, the scroll had deteriorated. Bits of moldy paper, covered with faded, fragmented characters, flaked away in his hands. He unrolled the scroll’s intact lower portion, only to find that subsequent passages contained no mention of General Fujiwara, Endo Munetsugu, or Araki Yojiemon. He and Noguchi checked the other scrolls in the chest and found references to the three men-all mere short entries that listed them as participants in various battles.
“I believe I remember seeing something in here… ” Noguchi opened a “To Be Sorted” chest, handling each scroll as if it were a fragile living thing. Sano opened the other. A thorough search yielded a single but intriguing find, dated a year and a half after the last.
Kyoto. The twentieth day of the twelfth month was one of heavy snow and bitter wind. As midnight approached, General Fujiwara and thirty of his men advanced on Araki Yojiemon’s mansion. They smashed the gate’s heavy timbers with a huge. mallet. Then, as half his men scaled the estate’s back and side walls, General Fujiwara led the rest on a frontal assault, storming through the gate like a legion of avenging gods.
Araki’s retainers awoke from their slumbers and engaged General Fujiwara’s force in a violent battle. Walls splintered, windows tore, and beams toppled. Blood flowed and cries pierced the night as fighters on both sides fell dead.
But although the Fujiwara contingent fought bravely, alas, they were sadly outnumbered. They never penetrated Araki’s private chamber. Forced to retreat, General Fujiwara fled the house into the snowy night to his waiting horse, barely escaping with his life. General Fujiwara vowed to slay Araki, but; never did. He took ill the following month, and died.
“General Fujiwara evidently bore a grudge against both Endo and Araki,” Sano said thoughtfully. “Could the Bundori Killer be one of his descendants, who has resumed the feud by killing Araki and Endo?”
“But why now, after so many years?” Noguchi’s forehead wrinkles climbed his scalp.
Sano pondered the question. “Maybe none of Fujiwara’s sons cared enough about the feud to jeopardize their own positions or risk their own lives by committing murder. Maybe the present-day Fujiwara is braver than his forebears, or has a stronger sense of filial duty. Or perhaps he’s mad.”
“Perhaps. But if he’s not mad, then what grievance could be so important? What could Araki and Endo have done to earn the Fujiwara clan’s permanent animosity?”
Sano ran a hand over the scroll, as if by doing so he could divine the answers. Without them, his theory lacked substance. It linked Araki Yojiemon and Endo Munetsugu to a man who had wanted them both dead. It offered an explanation for why someone might have wanted to kill Kaibara and Tozawa. But the records. gave no motive sufficient to justify the gruesome murders-or the assassination attempt on himself-committed more than a hundred years after General Fujiwara’s death. Still, the theory was the best Sano had.
“I must locate General Fujiwara’s descendants who now live in or near Edo,” he said. “Until proven otherwise, they’re all murder suspects. Will you help me find them?”
Noguchi cringed, obviously wanting no further involvement with the murder investigation. Sano waited. Then, as he’d hoped, the archivist’s eyes began to shine.
“That would be a formidable task,” Noguchi said with cautious relish. “Examining the old family lineages, then searching the census records at the Ministry of Temples and Shrines… Oh, my.” Eagerly he rubbed his hands together.
Sano smiled in relief and affection. The thrill of the hunt had overcome Noguchi’s fear of Chamberlain Yanagisawa. “I know it’s asking a lot, but can you get the names for me by tomorrow?” Sano asked, rising to go. “Lives are at stake.” His own included, he thought.
Face alight with zeal, Noguchi rose and drew his pudgy body up to its full, insignificant height. “Tomorrow, if it is humanly possible, I will have them for you.” For once he exhibited a hint of samurai steel as he girded himself for battle in his chosen arena.
As Noguchi saw him out the door, Sano felt, for the first time since he’d begun the investigation, the fire of certainty. He was finally making progress that he could report to the shogun, the elders, and Chamberlain Yanagisawa at the council meeting tomorrow. He only regretted that the evening’s unexpected, time-consuming events had prevented his meeting with Aoi.
Then, before he’d reached the gate, Noguchi called his name. Sano turned.
“
When Sano didn’t answer, Noguchi continued, “Sometimes the truth is dangerous to seek, and even more
