Hideyoshi, sitting with red eyes at the bedside, and there lay the cold, lifeless body of Hanbei. Kanbei sat down with a heavy groan, as though both his body and his spirit had been crushed. Kanbei and Hideyoshi sat quiedy, without speaking, looking at Hanbei’s body.
The room was as dark as a cave, but no lamp was lit. The white bedding beneath the corpse looked like snow at the bottom of a ravine.
"Kanbei," Hideyoshi finally said, sounding as though grief were pouring from his entire body, "it's pitiful. I had thought it would be difficult, but…"
Kanbei could not say much in response. He seemed to be in a daze, too. "Ah, I just don't understand it. He was fine six months ago. And now this." After a pause, he continued as though he had suddenly come to himself. "Well, come on. Are all of you just going to sit here crying? Someone light a lamp. We should clean his body, sweep the room, and lay him out in state. Everything must be done for a proper battlefield funeral.”
While Kanbei gave orders, Hideyoshi disappeared. In the flickering light of the lamps, as people began to work stiffly, someone discovered a letter left that Hanbei had left beneath his pillow. It was addressed to Kanbei, and had been written two days before.
They buried Hanbei on Mount Hirai, the autumn wind blowing sadly through the mourning flags.
Kanbei showed Hanbei's last letter to Hideyoshi. It contained nothing about himself; he had written about Hideyoshi, and about the plans he had had in mind for future operations. In part it read:
Even if my body should die and turn to white bones beneath the earth, if my lord will not forget my sincerity and will recall me in his heart even accidentally, my soul will breathe into my lord's present existence and never fail to serve him even from the grave.
Considering his service to have been insufficient but not begrudging his early death, Hanbei had waited for that death in the full belief that he would serve his lord even after he had become nothing but whitened bones. Now, when Hideyoshi considered Hanbei’s inmost feelings, he could not help but cry. No matter how hard he tried to control his tears, he could not stop them.
Kanbei finally spoke sternly. "My lord, I don't think you should go on grieving like this. Please read the rest of the letter, and think carefully. Lord Hanbei has written down a plan to take Miki Castle."
Kanbei had always been completely devoted to Hideyoshi, but in the present situation, his voice was showing a little impatience at Hideyoshi's unreserved demonstration of the emotional side of his character.
In his letter Hanbei had predicted that Miki Castle would fall within one hundreddays. But he also cautioned that a victory should not be accomplished simply by making a frontal attack and injuring their own soldiers, and he had written down a final plan:
In Miki Castle there is no man with more discrimination than General Goto Motokuni. In my own view, he is not the kind of soldier who does not understand the country's situation and demonstrates his toughness by going blindly into a battle. Before this campaign, I sat and talked with him a number of times at Himeji Castle, so you might say there is a slight friendship between us. I have written a letter to him, urging him to explain the advantages and disadvantages of the present situation to his lord, Bessho Nagaharu. If Lord Nagaharu understands everything that Goto says, he should be enlightened enough to surrender the castle and sue for peace. But to put this plan into operation, it is essential to gauge the right psychological moment. The best time of all, I think, would be late fall, when the earth is covered with dead leaves, the moon is solitary and cold in the sky, and in their hearts, the soldiers yearn for their fathers, mothers, sisters, and brothers, and have feelings of nostalgia in spite of themselves. The soldiers in the castle are already pressed by starvation, and when they feel that winter is coming, they're sure to realize that death is near and to feel all the more full of self-pity and misery. To make a strong attack at that time will do nothing more than give them a good place to die and provide them with traveling companions for their climb over the mountain of death. But if you were to postpone the attack for a while at this point and, after giving them the chance to think coolly, send a letter explaining the matter to Lord Nagaharu and his retainers, I have no doubt that you will see a conclusion within the year.
Kanbei saw that Hideyoshi had doubts about whether Hanbei's plan could succeed, and now he added a point of his own.
"The fact is that Hanbei spoke about this plan two or three times when he was alive, but it was put off because the time was still not ripe. If I may have my lord's permission, I will go at any time as an envoy and meet Goto in Miki Castle."
"No, wait," Hideyoshi said, shaking his head. "Wasn't it just last spring that we used this same plan, approaching one of the generals in the castle through the connections of Asano Yahei's relatives? There was no answer. We found out later that when our man advised Bessho Nagaharu to capitulate, the generals and soldiers got angry and cut him to pieces. The plan that Hanbei has left us sounds a little like that one, doesn't it? In fact, it's the same thing, I believe. If it's handled badly, we'll only let them know our weakness, and nothing will be gained."
"No, I think that is why Hanbei emphasized the importance of judging the correct moment. And I suspect that that moment is now."
"You think it's the right time?"
"I believe it absolutely." Just then, they heard voices outside the enclosure. Along with the voices of the generals and soldiers they were accustomed to, they could also hear a woman's voice. It was that of Hanbei's sister, Oyu. As soon as she had been informed that her brother was in a critical condition, she had left Kyoto, accompanied by only a few attendants. With the thought of seeing his face just once more while he was still in this world, she had rushed anxiously to Mount Hirai, but as she came closer to the front lines, the road had become more difficult. In the end, she was too late.
To Hideyoshi, the woman now bowing before him had completely changed. He gazed her traveling outfit and emaciated face and then, as he started to speak, Kanbei and the pages deliberately went outside to leave them alone. Oyu could only shed tears at first, and for a long time could not look up at Hideyoshi. Throughout his absence during the long campaign she had longed to see him, but now that she was in front of him, she could hardly go to his side.
"You have heard that Hanbei is dead?"
“Yes.
"You must be resigned to it. There was nothing we could do."
Oyu's heart collapsed like melting snow, and her body was convulsed with sobs.
"Stop crying; this is unbecoming." Hideyoshi lost his composure, hardly knowing what to do. Even though there was no one else present, the attendants were immediately outside the enclosure, and he felt constrained by the thought of what they might hear.
"Let's go to Hanbei's grave together," Hideyoshi said, and he led Oyu along the mountain path behind the camp to the top of a small hill.
A chilly late-autumn wind moaned through the branches of a solitary pine. Beneath it was a mound of fresh earth, upon which a single stone had been placed as a grave marker. In former times, during leisure hours in the long siege, a reed mat had been placed at the foot of this pine, and Kanbei, Hanbei, and Hideyoshi had sat together, talking over the past and present while looking at the moon.
Oyu parted the bushes, looking for some flowers to put on the grave. Then she faced the mound of earth and bowed beside Hideyoshi. Her tears no longer fell. Here at the top of the mountain, the grasses and trees of late autumn demonstrated that such a condition was a natural principle of the universe. Autumn passes into winter, winter passes into spring—in nature there is neither grief nor tears.
"My lord, I have a request, and I'd like to ask it in front of my brother's grave."
"Yes?"
"Perhaps you understand… in your heart."
"I do understand."
"I would like you to let me go. If you'll grant me that, I know my brother will be relieved, even under the earth."
"Hanbei died saying that his spirit would serve me even from the grave. How can turn my back on something that he worried about when he was alive? You should do what your heart tells you."
"Thank you. With your permission, I will do my best to honor his dying wish."
"Where will you go?"
"To a temple in some remote village." Once again she shed tears.
* * *
Granted a dismissal by Hideyoshi, Oyu received a lock of her brother's hair and his clothes. It was inappropriate for a woman to be in a military camp for a long time, and the next day Oyu went immediately to Hideyoshi and told him she had made her travel preparations.
“I'm here to say good-bye. Please, please take care of yourself," she told him.
“Won't you stay two or three more days in camp?" Hideyoshi asked. For the next few days Oyu stayed alone in an isolated hut, praying for her brother’s soul. The days passed without any word from Hideyoshi. Frost had descended on the mountains. Each time the early-winter rains came down, the leaves fell from the trees. Then, on the first night that the moon appeared clearly, a page came to Oyu and said, “His Lordship would like to see you. He has asked that you make preparations to leave this evening and that you go up now to Lord Hanbei's grave on the mountain."
Oyu had few preparations to make for the trip. She set off for her brother's grave with Kumataro and two other attendants. The trees had lost their leaves and the grass had withered, and the mountain had a desolate appearance. The ground looked white in the moonlight, as if there had been a frost.
One of the half-dozen retainers in attendance on Hideyoshi announced Oyu's arrival.
"Thank you for coming, Oyu," Hideyoshi began gently. "I've been so busy with military matters since we last met that I haven't been able to visit you. It's become so cold lately, you must be lonely."
"I have resigned myself to spending the rest of my life in an isolated village, so I won't be lonely."
"I hope that you'll pray for Hanbei's soul. Wherever you choose to live, I suspect we'll meet again." He turned to Hanbei's grave under the pine tree. "Oyu, I have something prepared for you over there. I doubt that I'll ever be able to hear the lovely sound of your koto again, after tonight. A long time ago, you were with Hanbei at the siege of the castle at Choteiken in Mino. You played the koto and softened the hearts of soldiers who had become like demons, and they finally surrendered. If you would play now, it would be an offering to Hanbei's soul, I think, as well as becoming a remembrance for me. Also, if the notes were carried by the wind to the castle, they might shock the enemy soldiers into thinking of their own humanity and make them aware that their deaths now would be meaningless. That would be a great achievement, and even Hanbei would rejoice."
He led her over to the pine tree, where a koto had been placed on top of a reed mat.
Having resisted a siege of three years with all their courage and integrity, the warriors the western provinces, who looked down on other men as being frivolous and vain, were now reduced to shadows of their former selves.
"I don't care if I die fighting today or tomorrow, I just don't want to die of starvation," one of the defenders said.