Mitsuharu had heard a great many stories recently, so he was not completely blind to Mitsuhide's thoughts. Nevertheless, he did have some particular doubts about why his cousin had returned to Sakamoto so suddenly. It was hardly a secret that Mitsuhide had
been given the responsibility of organizing the banquet Nobunaga was holding to welcome Ieyasu. Why had Mitsuhide been so suddenly dismissed just before the banquet? Ieyasu was certainly in Azuchi. Nevertheless, Mitsuhide's post had been given to someone else, and Mitsuhide himself had been ordered to leave.
Mitsuharu had not yet heard any details, but from the time he had been told of the events in Azuchi to the moment he saw Mitsuhide's face, he had come to understand that something had happened to upset Lord Nobunaga. Mitsuharu secretly grieved for his cousin.
And just as Mitsuharu had feared, ever since he had welcomed him at the castle that morning, Mitsuhide's appearance had not been encouraging. Seeing a grave shadow on his cousin's brow, however, was not such a surprise for Mitsuharu. He believed that there was no one who understood Mitsuhide's character as well as he did, because of their shared past.
"Yes, that makes sense. You spent the entire night coming from Azuchi on horseback. We're now in our fifties, and can't treat our bodies the way we could when we were young. Well, you should sleep for a while. Everything is prepared."
Mitsuharu did not force the issue or try to oppose his cousin's will. Mitsuhide got up and went inside the mosquito netting while the morning light still played across its threads.
* * *
Amano Genemon, Fujita Dengo, and Yomoda Masataka were waiting for Mitsuharu as he left Mitsuhide's room. The three men bowed.
"Excuse me, my lord," Dengo said. "We're very sorry to disturb you, but we wondered if we might have a word with you. It's a matter of some importance." Dengo was not speaking in his ordinary tone of voice.
Mitsuharu himself responded as though he had been expecting them. "Why don't we all go to the teahouse? Lord Mitsuhide has gone to sleep, and I was just thinking it would be a shame to waste the fire under the kettle."
"If we go to the teahouse, we won't have to keep people at a distance. That's an excellent idea."
"Let me show you the way."
"I'm afraid the three of us are provincials, so we don't understand much about tea and we certainly weren't prepared to receive such an honor from you today."
"Don't think of it that way. I understand a little of what you are worried about, and for that reason alone the teahouse should be a good place to talk."
They sat down in the thin light coming through the translucent paper doors of the small teahouse. The water in the kettle had been boiling for some time, and now it bubbled with an even more congenial sound than before. Mitsuharu had shown his martial spirit on the battlefield many times, but here, in front of the hearth, he seemed to be a completely different person.
"Well, let's not bother with tea. What's on your minds?"
Thus encouraged, the three men looked resolutely back and forth at each other.
Finally Dengo, the man among them who seemed to have the most courage, said, "Lord Mitsuharu, this is mortifying…I can hardly bring myself to speak of it…." He raised his right sleeve to hide his tears.
The other two didn't cry, but they could not hide their swollen eyelids.
"Has something happened?" Mitsuharu was completely calm, and the three men quickly recovered. It was as though they had expected to be confronting fire but were seeing only water. Mitsuharu noticed their swollen eyes, but he himself was unmoved.
"The fact is," Mitsuharu continued, "I, too, am worried that this unexpected return means that Lord Nobunaga has been somehow offended. Why was Lord Mitsuhide dismissed from his duties at the banquet?"
The first to answer was Dengo. "Lord Mitsuhide is our master, but we are not blind to crime and our reasoning is not prejudiced, so we are not just going to rattle on with resentment about Lord Nobunaga without cause. We took great care to try to understand Lord Nobunaga's motives this time, both in terms of the circumstances of Lord Mitsuhide's dismissal, and why he was blamed. The case is exceedingly strange."
Dengo's throat was so dry that he could not go on. Yomoda Masataka came to his rescue and continued the story.
"We even tried to find relief by speculating there was some political motive, but no matter how we look at it, there is nothing we can really put together. The overall plan should have been clear in Lord Nobunaga's mind for some time now. So why would he dismiss the man to whom he had given the responsibility of organizing the banquet and grant the honor to someone else on the very day of the banquet? It almost seems to be a display of disunity intentionally put on for his guest, Lord Ieyasu."
Genemon went on, "When I look at the situation as my companions have already described it, I can only think of one reason for it, which is really no reason at all. For the last several years Lord Nobunaga's persistent enmity has caused him to view with hostility everything that Lord Mitsuhide does. His dislike has finally become frank and undisguised, and things have come to this point."
The three men stopped talking. There was a mountain of incidents they would have yet liked to describe. For example, at the camp in Suwa during the invasion of Kai, Nobunaga had pushed Mitsuhide's face down on the wooden floor of the corridor, calling him “Kumquat Head," and ordering him to leave. Thus he had been insulted in front of everyone, and there had been numerous times that he had been embarrassed in the same way at Azuchi. These incidents, each of which would take forever to recount, demonstrated Nobunaga's hostility toward Mitsuhide and had become the subject of gossip among the retainers of other clans. Mitsuharu was of the same flesh and blood as Mitsuhide, and because of his close kinship, he was naturally aware that those events that had occurred.
Mitsuharu had listened to everything without the least change of expression. "Well then, Lord Mitsuhide was dismissed for no particular reason? I'm relieved to hear that. Other clans have earned Lord Nobunaga's favor or disfavor, depending on his mood."
The expressions on the three men's faces suddenly changed. The muscles around Dengo's lips twitched, and he abruptly drew up closer to Mitsuharu.
“What do you mean, you're relieved?"
"Do I have to repeat myself? The blame is not with Lord Mitsuhide, so if this has happened because Lord Nobunaga was out of sorts, Lord Mitsuhide should be able to repair the unhappy situation when Lord Nobunaga is in a better mood."
Dengo was speaking more and more excitedly. "Aren't you viewing Lord Mitsuhide as an entertainer who has to ingratiate himself for the sake of his lord's mood? Is this the way one should think of Lord Akechi Mitsuhide? Don't you think he's been humiliated, insulted, and pressed to the brink of self-destruction?"
"Dengo, the veins in your temples are getting a little swollen. Calm down."
"I haven't been able to sleep for two nights. I can't just remain calm like you, my lord. My master and his retainers have been scorched in a boiling pot of injustice, ridicule, insults, and every kind of vexation."
"That's why I've asked you to calm yourself and try to get some sleep for two or three nights."
"That's absurd!" Dengo exclaimed. "It's said of samurai that the shame of once being covered with mud is difficult to wipe away. How many times have my lord and his retainers endured such shame on account of this vicious lord in Azuchi? And yesterday it wasn't just a matter of Lord Mitsuhide's role in the banquet being taken away. The order that came right after that made the entire Akechi clan look like dogs chasing wild boar or deer. Perhaps you've heard that we are to mobilize immediately for a departure to the west. We're supposed to attack the Mori's provinces in the Sanin to protect Lord Hideyoshi's flank. How can we go to the battlefield feeling the way we do? This situation is another example of the scheming of that vicious dog of a lord!"
"Restrain yourself! Whom are you referring to as a vicious dog?"
"Lord Nobunaga, the same man who constantly calls our lord 'Kumquat Head' in front of others. Look at men like Hayashi Sado, or Sakuma Nobumori and his son. For years they helped make Nobunaga as great as he is today. Then, almost immediately after they were rewarded with status and a castle, they were arrested for some trivial crime and either condemned to death or driven into exile. The final act of that vicious lord is always to chase someone away."
"Silence! You are not to speak so disrespectfully of Lord Nobunaga! Get out! Now!"
As Mitsuharu finally became angry and reprimanded the man, something could be faintly heard in the garden. It was difficult to tell whether it was a man approaching, or only the falling of autumn leaves.
Extreme care was taken day and night against the possibility of espionage, even in places where the enemy's presence was highly improbable. Thus even in the teahouse garden, there were samurai standing guard. Now one of the guards had come up to the teahouse and was bowing in front of the door. After handing a letter to Mitsuharu, he drew back a little and waited as motionless as a stone.
Soon Mitsuharu's voice could be heard from inside. "This will require an answer, and I will write one later. Have the monk wait."
The guard bowed politely toward the entrance and walked back to his post. His straw sandals made almost no sound on the path in the manner of someone slinking away.
For a while, Mitsuharu and the other three men sat in complete silence, enveloped in an excruciatingly icy atmosphere. From time to time, a ripe plum fell to the ground with a sound like a wooden hammer striking the earth. That sound was the only thing that relieved the silence. Suddenly a bright ray of sunlight struck the paper panels of the sliding door.
"Well, we should take our leave. You have some urgent business to attend to," Masataka said, taking the opportunity to withdraw, but Mitsuharu, who had unrolled the letter and read it in front of the three men, now rolled the letter up.
"Why don't you stay awhile?" he asked, smiling.
"No, we'll take our leave. We don't want to intrude any further."
After the three men had shut the sliding door tightly behind them, their footsteps disappeared in the direction of the bridged corridor, and they sounded as if they were walking across thin ice.
A few moments later Mitsuharu left as well. He called into the samurai quarters as he walked down the corridor. Mitsuharu immediately asked for writing paper and a brush, and fluidly set the brush to the paper as though he already had in mind what he was going to write.
"Take this to the Abbot of Yokawa's messenger and send him back."