"Building a castle is like fighting a great battle. The man in charge must be able to use both men and materials with ease. You should really assign this duty to one of your veteran generals."
"And who would that be?" Nobunaga asked.
"Lord Niwa would be most suitable because he gets along so well with others."
"Niwa? Yes… he'd be good." This opinion seemed to agree with Nobunaga's own intentions, and he nodded vigorously. "By the way, Ranmaru has suggested that I build a donjon. What do you think of the idea?"
Mitsuhide did not answer. He could see Ranmaru out of the corner of his eye. "Are you asking me about the pros and cons of building a donjon, my lord?" he asked.
"That's right. Is it better to have one or not to have one?"
"It's better to have one, of course. Even if only from the standpoint of the dignity of the structure."
"There must be various styles of donjon. I've heard that when you were young, you traveled through the country extensively and acquired a detailed knowledge of castle construction."
"My knowledge of such things is really very shallow," Mitsuhide said humbly. "On the other hand, Ranmaru over there should be quite well versed in the subject. When I toured the country, I only saw two or three castles with donjons, and even those were of extremely crude construction. If this is Ranmaru's suggestion, he certainly must have some thoughts on the subject." Mitsuhide seemed to be hesitant to speak further.
Nobunaga, however, did not even consider the delicate sensitivities of the two men, and went on artlessly, "Ranmaru, you're no less a scholar than Mitsuhide, and you've done some research in castle construction, it seems. What are your thoughts on the building of a donjon? Well, Ranmaru?" After an embarrassed silence from the page, he asked, "Why don't you answer?"
"I'm too confused, my lord."
"Why is that?"
"I'm embarrassed," he said and prostrated himself with his face over both hands as though he had been deeply shamed. "Lord Mitsuhide is unkind. Why should I have any original ideas about donjon construction? To tell the truth, my lord, everything you heard from me—even the fact that the castles of the Ouchi and Satomi both have donjons— was told me by Lord Mitsuhide one night on guard duty."
"Well then, it wasn't your idea after all."
"I thought you would be annoyed if I confessed that every bit of it was someone else's idea, so I just rambled on and suggested building a donjon."
"Is that so?" Nobunaga laughed. "That's all there is to it?"
"But Lord Mitsuhide didn't take it that way," Ranmaru went on. "His answer just now made it sound as if I had stolen someone else's ideas. Lord Mitsuhide himself told me that he had some valuable illustrations of the Ouchi and Satomi donjons and even a rare sketchbook. So why should he be so reserved and shift the onus to an inexperienced person like me?"
Although Ranmaru looked like a child, it was clear that he was a man.
"Is that right, Mitsuhide?" Nobunaga asked.
With Nobunaga looking directly at him, Mitsuhide was unable to remain calm. He stammered out, "Yes." Neither was he able to control his resentment of Ranmaru. He had purposely withheld his own opinions and spoken up for Ranmaru's erudition because he knew of Nobunaga's affection for the young man and was secretly expressing his own goodwill toward him. He had not only been letting Ranmaru hand the flower to his lord but had taken pains not to embarrass him.
Mitsuhide had told Ranmaru all he knew of donjon and castle construction during the leisure hours of a night watch. It was absurd that Ranmaru had related it all to Nobunaga as though it were his own idea. If he plainly said that now, however, Ranmaru would be all the more embarrassed, and Nobunaga would really be disgusted. Thinking that avoiding such an unhappy situation would also be to his own benefit, he had given the credit to Ranmaru. But the result had been exactiy the opposite of what he had planned. At this point he could not help feeling a chill move down his back at the perversity of this adult in child's clothing.
Seeing his perplexity, Nobunaga seemed to understand what was going on in Mitsuhide's mind. Suddenly he laughed out loud. "Even Mitsuhide can be unbecomingly prudent. At any rate, do you have those illustrations at hand?"
"I have a few, but I wonder if they will suffice."
"They will. Loan them to me for a little while."
"I'll get them for you right away."
Mitsuhide blamed himself for having told even the smallest lie to Nobunaga, and though the matter had ended, he was the one who had suffered. When the subject changed to the castles of the various provinces and other chitchat, however, Nobunaga's mood was still good. After dinner was served, Mitsuhide withdrew without any ill feeling.
The next morning, after Nobunaga had left Nijo, Ranmaru went to see his mother.
"Mother, I heard from both my younger brother and the other attendants that Lord Mitsuhide had told His Lordship that because you go in and out of temples, you might leak military secrets to the warrior-monks. So yesterday, when he was in attendance on his Lordship, I sent him a little arrow of retribution. At any rate, since my father passed away, our family has received far more kindness from His Lordship than others have, so I’m afraid people are jealous. Be careful and don't trust anyone."
* * *
Immediately after the New Year's celebrations of the fourth year of Tensho, the construction of the castle at Azuchi was begun, along with a project for a castle town of unprecedented size. Craftsmen gathered at Azuchi with their apprentices and workmen. They came from the capital and Osaka, from the faraway western provinces, and even from the east and north: smiths, stonemasons, plasterers, metalworkers, and even wallpaper hangers—representatives of every craft in the nation.
The famous Kano Eitoku was selected to illustrate the doors, sliding partitions, and ceilings. For this project, Kano did not simply rely on the traditions of his own school. Rather, he consulted with the masters of each school and then created the masterpieces of a lifetime, sending brilliant shafts of light into the world of the arts, which had been in decline during the many years of civil war.
The mulberry fields disappeared in a single night, becoming a well laid-out street plan, while on top of the mountain, the framework of the donjon appeared almost before people were aware of it. The main citadel, modeled after the mythical Mount Meru, had four towers—representing the Kings of the Four Directions—around the central five-story donjon. Below it stood a huge stone edifice, and leading off from this were annexes. Above and below there were more than one hundred related structures, and it was difficult to tell how many stories each structure comprised.
In the Plum Tree Room, the Room of the Eight Famous Scenes, the Pheasant Room, and the Room of Chinese Children, the painter applied his art with no time for sleep. The master lacquerer, who hated even the mention of dust, lacquered the vermilion handrails and the black walls. A Chinese-born ceramicist was appointed master tilemaker. The smoke from his lakeside kiln rose into the air day and night.
A solitary priest mumbled to himself as he gazed at the castle. He was only a traveling monk, but his heavy brow and wide mouth gave him an unusual look.
"Isn't it Ekei?" Hideyoshi asked, patting the man gently on the shoulder so as not to startle him. Hideyoshi had detached himself from a group of generals standing a little way off.
"Well, well, now! Lord Hideyoshi!"
"I wouldn't have expected to find you here," Hideyoshi said cheerfully. He patted Ekei's shoulder again, and then smiled affectionately. "It's been a long time since we last met. I believe it was at Master Koroku's house in Hachisuka."
"Yes, that's right. Not long ago—I think it was at the end of the year at Nijo Palace— I overheard Lord Mitsuhide say that you had come to the capital. I came with an envoy from Lord Mori Terumoto, and stayed in Kyoto for a while. The envoy has already returned home, but since I'm just a country priest with no urgent business, I've been stopping here and there at temples both in and out of Kyoto. I thought Lord Nobunaga's present construction project would make a good travel story back home, so I stopped to take a look. I must say I'm very impressed."
"Your Reverence is involved in some construction, too, I hear," Hideyoshi remarked abruptly. Ekei looked startled, but Hideyoshi laughed, adding, "No, no. Not a castle. I understand you're building a monastery, called Ankokuji."
"Ah, the monastery." Ekei's face relaxed, and he laughed. "Ankokuji has already been completed. I'll hope you'll find time to visit me there, though I fear that as the master of Nagahama Castle your schedule will not allow it."
“I may have become the lord of a castle, but my stipend is still low, so neither my position nor my mouth carries much weight. But I'll bet I look a little more grown up than when you last saw me in Hachisuka."
"No, you haven't changed a bit. You're young, Lord Hideyoshi, but then almost everyone on Lord Nobunaga's field staff is in the prime of life. I've been struck from the very first by the grandeur of the plan for his castle and by the spirit of his generals. He seems to have the force of the rising sun."
"Ankokuji was paid for by Lord Terumoto of the western provinces, was it not? His own province is wealthy and strong, and I suspect that even in terms of men of talent, Lord Nobunaga's clan is no match."
Ekei seemed anxious not to become involved in such a conversation, and once again he praised the construction of the donjon and the superb view of the area.
Finally, Hideyoshi said, "Nagahama is on the coast just north of here. My boat is berrthed nearby, so why don't you come and stay for a night or two? I've been granted some leave, and I thought I'd go back to Nagahama."
Ekei used this invitation to make a hasty withdrawal. "No, perhaps I'll call on you at another time. Please give my regards to Master Koroku, or rather Master Hikoemon, that is, now that he's one of your retainers." And he suddenly walked off.
As Hideyoshi watched Ekei go, two monks, who seemed to be his disciples, came out from a commoner's house and chased after him.
Accompanied only by Mosuke, Hideyoshi went to the construction site, which had the look of a battlefield. As he had not been assigned important responsibilities in the building work, he did not have to stay permanently in Azuchi, nevertheless he made frequent trips from Nagahama to Azuchi by ship.
"Lord Hideyoshi! Lord Hideyoshi!" Someone was calling him. Looking around, he saw Ranmaru, displaying a beautiful line of white teeth in his smiling mouth, running toward him.