"Arrows! I don't have any arrows! Bring me more!"
Continuing to call out behind him, he even picked up and shot the enemy's arrows that had missed him and fallen to the corridor. Just then, a woman wearing a red silk headband and gallantly trussing up one sleeve of her kimono carried in an armful of arrows and raised one to his hand. Nobunaga looked down at the woman.
"Ano? What you've done here is enough. Now try to escape."
He motioned her off emphatically with his chin, but the court lady, Ano, kept passing arrow after arrow to Nobunaga's right hand and would not leave, no matter how he upbraided her.
He shot with nobility and grace more than with skill, more with spirit than with great strength. The magnificent hum of his arrows seemed to say that the arrows themselv were too good for these menials, that the arrowheads were gifts from the man who would rule the nation. The arrows that Ano brought, however, were quickly spent..
Here and there in the temple garden the enemy lay, felled by his arrows. But, braving his fire, a number of the armored soldiers yelled out and pressed desperately in under the balustrade, and finally began to climb onto the bridged corridor.
"We can see you, Lord Nobunaga! You can't escape now! Give up your head like a man!
The enemy were as thick as the crows on the honey locust tree in the morning and evening. Personal attendants and pages positioned themselves around Nobunaga in the rear and side corridors in a protective stance, their swords shining with a fire born of desperation. They were not going to let the enemy get close. The Mori brothers were among them. A number of these men who had refused to leave their lord at the very end and had fought to protect him now lay on top of their enemies exactly as they had grappled with them, both seeming to have died by the other's hands.
The guard corps at the outer temple had made the main temple their battleground and now fought a fierce and bloody fight to keep the enemy from approaching the court. But because the enemy forces seemed about to take the entrance to the bridged corridor that led to the court, the entire corps, which consisted of less than twenty men, formed a single unit and dashed together toward the interior.
Thus the Akechi warriors who had scrambled up to the bridged corridor were caught on both sides. Stabbed and cut, their corpses fell on top of one another. When the men from the outer temple saw that Nobunaga was still safe, they cried out in elation, "Now there's time! Now! Retreat as quickly as possible!"
"Idiots!" Nobunaga spat, tossing his bow away. It had broken and he was out of arrows. "This is no time to retreat! Lend me your spear!"
Upbraiding them, he grabbed a retainer's weapon and ran down the corridor like a lion. Finding an enemy warrior with his hand on the balustrade and about to climb over he drove his spear straight down into the man.
Just then, an Akechi warrior drew back his small bow from the shade of a Chinese black pine. The arrow struck Nobunaga's elbow. Staggering back, Nobunaga leaned heavily against the shutter behind him.
At that very moment, some minor action was occurring outside the western wall. A force of retainers and foot soldiers under the command of Murai Nagato and his son had sallied out from the governor's mansion, which was located in the neighborhood of the Honno Temple. Striking at the encircling Akechi forces from behind, they attempted to enter the compound from the main gate.
The night before, Nagato and his son had stayed up late into the night talking with Nobunaga and Nobutada, returning to their mansion to sleep at about the time of the third watch. That, one could say, was the reason Nagato had been sleeping so soundly and had been caught off guard. As part of his duties, he should have known—at the very least—about the situation the moment the Akechi forces stepped inside the capital precincts. And then he should have immediately sent a warning to the nearby Honno Temple, even if it had been just moments before the arrival of the hostile troops.
His negligence had been total and absolute. But the fault lay not with Nagato alone. Certainly, negligence could be attributed to all of those who were staying in the capital or had had mansions there.
"It seems there's some trouble outside," Nagato was told when he was first awakened. He had no idea of the magnitude of the trouble.
"Maybe it's a brawl or something. Go take a look," he told a retainer. Then, while he leisurely got out of bed, he heard one of his attendants calling out from the roof of the mud-walled gate.
"Smoke's coming up from Nishikikoji!"
Nagato clicked his tongue and muttered, "Probably some fire on Sewer Street again."
He was that mistaken about how much at peace the world was, and had completely forgotten that this was truly just one more day in the civil war.
"What! Akechi forces?" His astonishment lasted no more than a moment. "Damn!" and he leaped out of the mansion with almost nothing more than the clothes on his back. As soon as he saw the dense crowds of armored, mounted men, bristling with swords and spears in the dark morning mist, he hurried back inside the mansion, put on his armor, and grabbed his sword.
With a force of only thirty or forty men, he hastened off to fight at Nobunaga's side. The various Akechi corps had blocked off all the streets leading to the Honno Temple. The encounter with Nagato's force started at a corner of the compound's western wall and developed into fierce hand-to-hand fighting. Breaking through one small patrol, Nagato's little party pressed fairly close to the main gate; but once a detachment of the Akechi forces turned and witnessed this impertinent action, they readied their spears and charged. Nagato's tiny force was hardly a match for them, and both he and his son were wounded. With their numbers reduced by half, they were forced to retreat.
"Try to get to the Myokaku Temple! We will join Lord Nobutada!"
Above the huge roof of the Honno Temple, jet black smoke could be seen billowing like thunderclouds. Was it the attacking Akechi forces, Nobunaga's retainers, or Nobunaga himself who had set fire inside the temple? The situation was so chaotic that no one could tell.
The smoke began to billow out from the outer temple, from a room in the court, and fromm the kitchen almost all at the same time.
A page and two other men were fighting in the kitchen like demons. It seemed that the monks from the temple kitchen had risen early—though not one of them was to be seen—because beneath the huge cauldrons the firewood had been kindled.
The page stood in the door of the kitchen and stabbed at least two of the Akechi men who had broken in. His spear finally taken from him and facing too many of the enemy, he jumped up to the wooden floor and kept the men at bay by throwing kitchen implements and anything else he could lay his hands on.
A tea master and another man who were also there brandished their swords and fought bravely alongside the page. And though the enemy felt scorn for these three lightly armed opponents, a group of samurai was unable to step up onto the wooden floor because of them.
"What's taking so long?"
A warrior who seemed to be the commander looked in, grabbed a firebrand from an oven, and threw it into the faces of the three men. He then threw a firebrand into the store room and one up toward the ceiling.
"Inside!"
"He must be inside!"
Their objective was Nobunaga.
In that instant they pushed their way inside, kicking the burning firewood around with their warriors' straw sandals as they split up inside the building. Flames quickly crawled up the sliding doors and pillars like red-leafed ivy. The figures of the page and the tea master were motionless as the flames enveloped them, too.
The stables were in a complete uproar. Ten or more horses had panicked and were kicking the walls of their stalls, knocking out the boards. Two of them finally broke the crossbars and bucked violently outside. Running wild, they galloped into the center of the Akechi forces while the other horses whinnied more and more violently as they saw the flames. The samurai at the stables left their post and went to defend the steps of the court where Nobunaga had last been seen. Making this their last stand, they were all struck down and fell together.
Even the stableboys, who could have escaped, stayed behind and fought until they were all killed. These men were ordinarily completely inconspicuous, but on this day they silently demonstrated with the sacrifice of their lives that they were not inferior to men who had large stipends or a high rank.
Carrying his blood-soaked spear, an Akechi warrior running from room to room stopped when he saw a comrade through the smoke.
"Minoura?"
"Hey!"
"Have you accomplished anything yet?"
"No, not yet."
Together they searched for Nobunaga—or, more accurately, they competed in finding him. Soon they separated, making their way through the smoke.
The fire seemed to have spread beneath the roof, and the inside of the temple was crackling. Even the leather and metal fittings on the warriors' armor felt hot to the touch. In an instant, the only human forms to be seen were either corpses or the warriors of the Akechi, and even a number of the Akechi ran outside as the fire crept along the roofs.
Of the men inside who still stood their ground, some were choking from the smoke while others were covered with ashes. The doors and sliding panels had been kicked out in the hall, and now the flaming gold brocade and pieces of ignited wood swirled thick and fast, burning as brightly as a field on fire. But inside the small rooms and recesses it was dark, and forms were indistinct. Thick with smoke, the various corridors could not even be distinguished.
Ranmaru leaned heavily against the cedar door leading to the room he was guarding and then quietly stood up. With a bloodied spear in hand, he looked to the right and then to the left. Hearing footsteps, he readied his spear.
Focusing his entire being on his sense of hearing, he listened for some sign from the
room. The white figure that had rushed inside just now had been that of the General of he Right, Oda Nobunaga. He had fought until the very end, when he saw that flames were engulfing the temple and that all of the men around him had been struck down and killed. He had fought hand-to-hand with the common soldiers as if he had been one himself. Yet he had made the decision to commit seppuku not simply because he had conidered his reputation and found it regrettable to leave his head to a nonentity. A man's death was predetermined, so he did not even regret the loss of his life. What he did regret losing was the great work of his life.
The Myokaku Temple was nearby. The mansion of the governor was also in the neighborhood. And there were samurai who were lodged inside the city. If by some chance contact was made with the outside, escape might be possible, Nobunaga thought. On the other hand, this inspiration, or rather this conspiracy, had been planned by that kumquat head, Mitsuhide. Mitsuhide's character was such that if he decided to take an action like this, he would carry it out with such care that not even water might leak through. Well then, it was time to be resolved.