At length the generals were all gathered for the war council. The white lamplight shone on Nobunaga's face. He had decided to ride out at dawn against Asai Nagamasa of Odani. Although this meeting was meant to be a war council, its purpose was not the airing of different opinions or discussion. Nobunaga simply wanted to hear if anyone had any suggestions as to tactics.
When it was clear just how determined Nobunaga was, a deathly silence fell over the assembled generals. It was as though something had struck them deep in their hearts. Nobunaga's relationship with Nagamasa, they all knew, was more than that of a political ally. Nobunaga was truly fond of his brother-in-law, and he had invited him to Kyoto and personally shown him the sights.
If Nobunaga had not told Nagamasa of his attack on the Asakura clan, it was because he knew that the Asai and Asakura were bound by an alliance much older than the Asai clan's ties with the Oda. Thinking of his brother-in-law's delicate position, he tried his best to keep him neutral.
However, once Nagamasa knew that Nobunaga's army was deep in enemy territory, Nagamasa had betrayed Nobunaga, cut off his retreat, and forced him into an inevitable defeat.
Nobunaga had been thinking about his brother-in-law's punishment ever since his return to Kyoto. A secret report had been handed to Nobunaga in the dead of night. It informed him that Sasaki Rokkaku had fomented a peasant uprising with the support of Kannonji Castle and the warrior-monks. Taking advantage of the chaos and acting in concert with the Asai, Rokkaku was aiming to crush Nobunaga with a single blow.
When the war council had ended, Nobunaga went into the garden with his generals and pointed to the sky. In the distance the flames of the insurrection turned the sky a brilliant red.
On the following day, the twentieth, Nobunaga led his army into Omi. He crushed the warrior-monks and broke through the defenses of Asai Nagamasa and Sasaki Rokkaku. Nobunaga's army moved with the speed of a storm sweeping the clouds from the plain, and struck with the suddenness of lightning.
On the twenty-first, the Oda were pressing in on the main castle of the Asai at Odani. They had already laid siege to Yokoyama Castle, a branch castle of Odani. For the enemy, it was a complete rout. They had had no time to prepare themselves, and their resistance crumbled, giving them no time to set up new positions.
The Ane River was only a few feet deep, so, although it was quite broad, a man could ford it on foot. Its clear waters, which flowed from the mountains of eastern Asai, were, however, so cold that they cut into the body even in summer.
It was just before dawn. Nobunaga, leading an army of twenty-three thousand men, with a further six thousand Tokugawa troops, deployed his men along the east riverbank.
From about midnight on the previous day, the combined forces of the Asai and the Asakura —numbering about eighteen thousand—had gradually moved in from Mount Oyose. Hiding behind the houses along the west bank of the river, they waited for the right moment to attack. The night was still dark, and only the sound of the water could be heard.
"Yasumasa," Ieyasu called one of his commanders, "the enemy is approaching the riverbank thick and fast."
"It's difficult to see anything through this mist, but I can hear the horses neighing in the distance."
"Any news from downstream?"
"Nothing so far."
"Which side is heaven going to bless? Half a day should see the turning point."
"Half a day? I wonder if it will take that long."
"Don't underestimate them," Ieyasu said as he walked into the woods at the river's edge. Here were his own silent troops, the flower of Nobunaga's army. The atmosphere in the forest was one of total desolation. The soldiers had spread out into a firing line, crouching in the undergrowth. The spearmen grasped their weapons and looked out over the river, where still nothing stirred.
Would it be life or death today?
The eyes of the soldiers shone. Untouched by life or death, they silently imagined the outcome of the battle. Not one looked as if he had confidence that he would see the sky again that evening.
Accompanied by Yasumasa, Ieyasu walked along the line, his clothes making only a slight rustling noise. No light shone, except for the smoldering fuse cords of the muskets. A man sneezed—perhaps a soldier with a cold, whose nose was itchy from the smoke of the fuses. Still, it made the other soldiers tense.
The surface of the water began to turn white, and a line of red clouds silhouetted the branches of the trees on Mount Ibuki.
"The enemy!" a man shouted.
The officers around Ieyasu immediately signaled the gunners to hold their fire. On the other bank just a little downstream, a mixed corps of mounted samurai and foot soldiers, numbering perhaps twelve or thirteen hundred, was fording the river at a diagonal. Kicking up a white spray with their feet, they looked like a white gale crossing the river.
The formidable vanguard of the Asai was ignoring the Oda vanguard and even the second and third lines of defense, and was preparing to strike at the center of the Oda camp.
Ieyasu's men swallowed hard and exclaimed all at once, "Isono Tamba!"
"Tamba's regiment!"
The famous Isono Tamba, the pride of the Asai clan, was a worthy opponent. His crested banners could be seen fluttering through the splashes and spray.
Gunfire!
Was it covering fire for the enemy, or the rifles of their own troops? No, the firing had begun from both banks at the same moment. Echoing over the water, the noise was almost deafening. The clouds began to part, and the cloudless summer sky displayed its hue. Just then the second Oda line, under Sakai Tadatsugu, and Ikeda Shonyu's third line suddenly struck out into the river.
"Don't let the enemy put one foot on our side! Don't let a single one of them return to their own!" shouted the officers.
The Sakai corps attacked the enemy's flank. In an instant, hand-to-hand fighting broke out in the middle of the river. Spear clashed against spear, sword rang against sword. Men grappled and tumbled from horses, and the waters of the river ran with blood.
Tamba's regiment of crack troops pushed Sakai's second line back. Shouting, "We have been shamed!" so loudly that he could be heard on both sides of the river, Sakai's son, Kyuzo, dashed into the middle of the fight. He achieved a glorious death in battle, with more than one hundred of his men.
With unstoppable force, Tamba's soldiers broke through the third Oda line. Ikeda's spearmen readied their spears and tried to break the enemy onslaught, but they could do nothing.
Now it was Hideyoshi's turn to be amazed. He muttered to Hanbei, "Have you ever seen such intimidating men?" But even Hanbei had no tactics to deal with this attack. This was not the only reason for Hideyoshi's defeat. Within his line were a great number men who had surrendered at enemy castles. These new "allies" had been put under Hideyoshi's command, but they had once received their stipends from the Asai and Asakura. Quite naturally, their spears were rarely accurate, and when they were ordered to charge the enemy, they were more likely to get in the way of Hideyoshi's own men.
Thus Hideyoshi's line was defeated, and the Oda's fifth and sixth lines were also soundly beaten. In all, Tamba routed eleven of the thirteen Oda lines. At this point the Tokugawa forces upstream crossed the river, overrunning the enemy on the opposite bank, and gradually they made their way downstream. Looking back, however, they saw that Tamba's soldiers were already pressing close on Nobunaga's headquarters.
With the yell, "Attack their flank!" the Tokugawa soldiers leaped back into the river. Tamba's soldiers thought these men were their own allies entering the river from the west bank, even when they drew near. With Kazumasa in the lead, the Tokugawa samurai cut into Isono Tamba's regiment.
Suddenly aware of the enemy, Tamba yelled himself hoarse, ordering his men to fall back. A warrior, brandishing a dripping spear, struck him from the side. Tamba collapsed in a spray of water. Grasping the shaft of the spear that had pierced his side, he attempted to get up, but the Tokugawa warrior had no intention of letting him do so. A sword flashed over Tamba's head and crashed down on his iron helmet. The sword shattered into pieces. Tamba stood up, the water around his feet turning into a bright red pool of blood. Three men surrounded Tamba, stabbing and hacking him to pieces.
"The enemy!" the retainers around Nobunaga shouted. They ran from the headquarters to the riverbank with their spears ready.
Takenaka Kyusaku, Hanbei's younger brother, was in Hideyoshi's regiment, but in the confusion of battle he had become separated from his unit. Pursuing the enemy, he was now close to Nobunaga's headquarters.
What? he thought in amazement. The enemy's here already? As he looked around, he spotted a samurai coming around from the back of the enclosure. The man, whose armor was not that of a common foot soldier, lifted the curtain and looked stealthily inside.
Kyusaku flung himself at the man and grabbed his leg, which was covered by chain mail and armor. The warrior might be one of their own men, and Kyusaku did not want to kill an ally by mistake. The samurai turned without a hint of surprise. He looked like an officer of the Asai army.
"Friend or foe?" Kyusaku asked.
"Foe, of course!" the man yelled, working his spear through his hands and moving in to strike.
"Who are you? Do you have a name worth repeating?"
"I am Maenami Shinpachiro of the Asai. I've come to take Lord Nobunaga's head. You disgusting runt! Who are you?"
"I am Takenaka Kyusaku, a retainer of Kinoshita Hideyoshi. Come and try me!"
"Well, well. Takenaka Hanbei's little brother."
"That's right!" The instant he said this, Kyusaku yanked away Shinpachiro's spear and threw it back at his chest. But before Kyusaku could draw his sword, Shinpachiro grabbed him. Both men fell to the ground, Kyusaku on the bottom. He kicked himself free, but he was once again pinned down beneath his enemy. At that moment he bit on Shinpachiro's finger, making him loosen his grip a little.