The Nijo Palace was destroyed in one attack. Almost all the retainers in the palace surrendered. Even the two nobles, Hino and Takaoka, came out and apologized to Nobunaga. But one man, Mibuchi Yamato, and more than sixty of his retainers fought to the very end without submitting. Not one of them fled and not one of them yielded. All were cut down in battle and died gloriously as samurai.
Yoshiaki fled Kyoto and entrenched himself in Uji. Reckless as always, he had with him only a small defeated force. When, not long afterward, Nobunaga's troops closed in on his headquarters at the Byodoin Temple, Yoshiaki surrendered without a struggle.
"Everyone leave," Nobunaga ordered.
Nobunaga sat a little straighter and looked directly at Yoshiaki.
"I suppose you've not forgotten that you once said you thought of me as your father. It was a happy day when you were sitting in the palace I had rebuilt for you." Yoshiaki was silent. "Do you remember?"
"Lord Nobunaga, I have not forgotten. Why are you talking of those days now?"
"You're a coward, my lord. I'm not thinking of taking your life, even after things have come to this. Why are you still telling lies?"
"Forgive me. I was wrong."
"I'm happy to hear it. But you certainly are in trouble—even though you were born to the position of shogun."
"I want to die. Lord Nobunaga… I… won't you… assist me in committing seppuku?”
"Please stop!" Nobunaga laughed. "Excuse my rudeness, but I suspect you don't even know the proper way of cutting open your own stomach. I've never really felt inclined to hate you. It's just that you never stop playing with fire, and the sparks keep flying to other provinces."
"I understand now."
"Well, I think it might be better if you retired somewhere quietly. I'll keep your son and bring him up, so you won't need to worry about his future."
Yoshiaki was released and told that he was free to go—into exile.
Guarded by Hideyoshi, Yoshiaki's son was taken to Wakae Castle. This arrangement was really a case of malice rewarded with favor, but Yoshiaki took it with his usual jaundiced view and could only feel that his son had been politely taken hostage. Miyoshi Yoshitsugu was governor of Wakae Castle, and later Yoshiaki too found shelter with him.
Not wanting to play host to a bothersome, defeated aristocrat, however, Yoshitsugu
soon made him feel uneasy, saying, "I think you're going to be in danger if you stay here much longer. Nobunaga could change his mind at the slightest provocation and have your head cut off."
Yoshiaki left in a hurry and went to Kii, where he tried to incite the warrior-monks of Kumano and Saiga to rebel, promising them grandiose favors in return for striking Nobunaga down. Using the name and dignity of his office, he did nothing more than bring down upon himself the derision and laughter of the people. It was rumored that he did not stay long in Kii, but soon crossed into Bizen and became a dependent of the Ukita clan.
And with this, a new era started. It could be said that the destruction of the shogunate was a sudden opening in the thick clouds that had covered the sky. Now a small portion of blue could be seen. There is nothing more frightening than a period of aimless national government administered by rulers in name only. The samurai ruled in every province, protecting their privileges; the clergy acquired wealth and strengthened its authority. The nobles were changed to mice in the Imperial Court, one day relying on the warriors, the next imploring the clergy, and then abusing the government for their own defense. Thus the Empire was sundered into four nations—the nation of priests, the nation of samurai, the nation of the court, and the nation of the shogunate—each of which fought its private wars.
The eyes of the people were opened wide at Nobunaga's actions. But even though they looked up at the deep blue sky, all the thick clouds had not yet dispersed. Nobody could guess what would happen next. During the past two or three years, several key men had passed away. Two years before both Mori Motonari, the lord of the largest domain in western Japan, and Hojo Ujiyasu, the master of eastern Japan, had died. But for Nobunaga these events did not carry nearly as great a significance as the death of Takeda Shingen and the exile of Yoshiaki. To Nobunaga, it was especially the death of Shingen—who had constantly threatened him from the north—that left him free to concentrate his strength in one direction, a direction that made more fighting and chaos almost inevitable. There was certainly no doubt that, after the demise of the shogunate, the warrior clans in every province would raise their banners and compete to be the first to enter the field.
"Nobunaga has burned down Mount Hiei and overthrown the shogun. Such lawlessness must be punished!" This would be their battle cry.
Nobunaga knew that he would have to steal the initiative and defeat his rivals before they were able to form an alliance against him. "Hideyoshi, you hurry back first. I'll probably come visit you at Yokoyama Castle soon."
"I'll be waiting for you." Hideyoshi seemed to have grasped the direction of events, and after accompanying Yoshiaki's son to Wakae, he quickly returned to his castle at Yokoyama.
It was the end of the Seventh Month when Nobunaga returned to Gifu. At the beginning of the next month, an urgent letter written in Hideyoshi's own poor hand arrived m Yokoyama: "The opportunity is ripe. Let's move!"
In the lingering heat of the Eighth Month, Nobunaga's army left Yanagase and crossed into Echizen. Opposing it was the army of Asakura Yoshikage of Ichijogadani. At the end of the Seventh Month, Yoshikage had received an urgent message from Odani, from Asai Hisamasa and his son, Nagamasa, his allies in northern Omi:
The Oda army is coming north. Send reinforcements quickly. If help is slow in coming, we will be lost.
There were those in the war councils who doubted that this could be true, but the Asai were allies, so ten thousand soldiers were hastily dispatched. And when this vanguard had marched as far as Mount Tagami, they realized that the Oda attack was a fact. Once the reality was understood, a rear guard of more than twenty thousand men was sent. Asakura Yoshikage considered the crisis grave enough to lead the army in person. Any fighting in northern Omi was obviously extremely alarming to the Asakura, because the Asai formed the first line of defense for their own province.
Both the Asai father and son were at Odani Castle; about three leagues away stood Yokoyama Castle, in which Hideyoshi had entrenched himself, keeping watch on the Asai like a hawk for Nobunaga.
By autumn, Nobunaga was already attacking the Asai. He struck Kinomoto in a surprise attack against the army of Echizen. Over two thousand eight hundred heads were taken by the Oda. They pressed on against the enemy, now fleeing from Yanagase, running them down and blackening the dry early-autumn grasses with blood.
The Echizen warriors lamented the weakness of their army. But the fierce generals and brave warriors who turned back to fight were struck down in battle. Why were they so weak? And why were they unable to strike at the Oda? In anyone's fall, there is an accumulation of factors, and natural collapse comes in an instant. But when this particular instant came, both ally and enemy wondered at its suddenness and magnitude. The rise and fall of provinces, however, are always based on natural phenomena, and here, too, there was really nothing miraculous or strange. The weakness of the Asakura could be understood simply by looking at the behavior of their commander-in-chief, Yoshikage. Caught in the stampede of his men fleeing from Yanagase, Yoshikage had already lost his head.
"It's all over! We can't even flee! Both my horse and I are exhausted. To the mountains!" he cried.
He had neither a plan for a counterattack nor any spirit left to fight. Thinking only of himself, he quickly abandoned his horse and tried to find a hiding place.
"What are you doing!" Scolding him with tears in his eyes, his chief retainer, Takuma Mimasaka, pulled him back by his sash, forced him onto his horse, and pushed him off toward Echizen. Then, standing his ground in order to give his lord time to escape, he took over a thousand soldiers and fought against the Oda army as long as he could.
It is hardly necessary to say that Takuma and all his men died, suffering a wretched and complete annihilation. While such loyal retainers were being sacrificed, Yoshikage shut himself up in his main castle at Ichijogadani. But he did not even have the spirit to put up a stubborn defense of the land of his ancestors.
Soon after his return to the castle, he took his wife and children and fled to a temple in the Ono district. He reasoned that if they had been inside the castle, when worst came to worst, he would have had no escape route. With their lord demonstrating such a lack of resolve, all of his generals and soldiers deserted.
Autumn was at its fullest. Nobunaga returned to his camp on Mount Toragoze, from which point he had already surrounded Odani. From the time he arrived, he had seemed extraordinarily composed, as though he were simply waiting for the castle to fall. With the precipitous collapse of Echizen, he had immediately returned while the ashes of Ichijogadani were still smoldering. Now he was giving out orders.
Maenami Yoshitsugu, the surrendering general of Echizen, was given Toyohara Castle, similarly, Asakura Kageaki was commanded to defend Ino Castle, and Toda Yarokuro was ordered to the castle at Fuchu. Thus Nobunaga employed a large number of Asakura retainers who were familiar with the conditions of the province. Finally, Akechi Mitsuhide was left in charge as their overseer.
In all likelihood there could not have been anyone better suited for this responsibility than Mitsuhide. During his unsettled days as a wanderer, he had been a retainer of the Asakura clan and lived in the castle town of Ichijogadani, suffering the cold glances of his colleagues. Now, in a completely reversed situation, he was keeping watch over his former masters.
Considerable pride and a stream of other emotions must have passed through Mitsuhide's breast. Furthermore, Mitsuhide's intelligence and ability had been recognized on a number of occasions, and he was now one of Nobunaga's favorite retainers. In his observation of others, Mitsuhide was far more intelligent than most men, and after a number of years of battles and daily service, he understood Nobunaga's character quite well. He knew his master's expressions, words, and looks—even at a distance—just as well as he did his own.
Mitsuhide dispatched riders from Echizen many times a day. He did not make even the smallest decision on his own, but asked for Nobunaga's instructions in every situation, Nobunaga made his decisions while looking at these notes and letters in his camp on Mount Toragoze.
Mountains in full autumn colors lined the cloudless blue sky, which in turn was reflected in the bright blue lake below. The chattering of birds invited a yawn here and here.
Hideyoshi quickly crossed the mountains from Yokoyama. Joking with his men on the way, his teeth shone white as he laughed in the autumn sun. As he approached, he greeted everyone around him. This was the man who had built the castle at Sunomata and later had been put in charge of Yokoyama Castle. His responsibilities and position among the generals of the Oda army had very quickly become prominent, and yet he was he same as he had always been.
When other generals compared his behavior with their own solemn ways, there were some who judged him to be frivolous and indiscreet, but others saw him in a different light, saying, "He's worthy of his rank. He hasn't changed from what he was before, even though his stipend's increased. First he was a servant, then a samurai, and then suddenly
he was governing a castle. But he's still the same. I imagine he's going to earn an even larger domain."
Hideyoshi had just before then leisurely shown his face in camp before luring Nobunaga away with a few simple words, and they were both climbing up toward the mountains.
"How impertinent!" Shibata Katsuie exclaimed as he and Sakuma Nobumori went out beyond the barracks.
"That is why he's so disliked, even when he doesn't have to be. There's nothing more unpleasant than listening to someone who rattles on about his own cleverness." Almost spitting out their words, they watched the figure of Hideyoshi thread his way through the far-off marsh in the company of Nobunaga.
"He doesn't tell us anything—doesn't consult with us at all."
"First of all, isn't that awfully dangerous? It may be broad daylight, but the enemy could be lurking anywhere in these mountains. What would happen if they started shooting at him?"