Is nothing but a vain dream.
Living but one life,
Is there anything that will not decay?
His voice was both unusually resonant and loud. And he sang as though he had reached the end of his life.
A samurai was hurrying down the corridor. His armor clanked noisily on the wooden floor as he knelt down. "Your horse is ready. We await your orders, my lord."
Nobunaga's hands and feet stopped in the middle of the dance, and he turned to the speaker. "Aren't you Iwamuro Nagato?"
"Yes, my lord."
Iwamuro Nagato was in full armor and was wearing his long sword. Yet, Nobunaga had not yet put on his armor and was dancing to the beat of a lady-in-waiting's drum. Nagato seemed dismayed and looked around doubtfully. The messenger who had brought the command to prepare the lord's horse for battle was his page. Everyone was exhausted from lack of sleep, and the page's nerves were on edge. Wasn't this some sort of mistake? Nagato had dressed in a hurry, but he was bewildered to find the leisurely figure of Nobunaga. Usually, when Nobunaga said, "Horse!" he would fly out before his retainers had time to get ready, so Nagato thought that this was more than unusual.
"Come in," said Nobunaga, his hands still in the correct posture of the dance. "Nagato, you're a lucky man. You're the only one able to observe my farewell dance to this life. That should be quite a sight."
When Nagato understood what his lord was doing, he was ashamed of his own doubts and edged over to a corner of the room.
"That I should be the only one among my lord's many retainers to witness the most important dance of his lifetime is good fortune far beyond my lowly position. Still, I would ask permission to sing my own farewell to this world."
"You can sing? Good. Sai, from the beginning." The lady-in-waiting was silent and dropped her head a little with the drum. Nagato had realized that when Nobunaga had said dance, he meant Atsumori.
To think that a man
Has but fifty years to live under heaven.
Surely this world
Is nothing but a vain dream.
Living but one life,
Is there anything that does not decay?
As Nagato chanted, his many years of service, dating from Nobunaga's youth, unfolded in his mind. The minds of the dancer and the singer became one. Sai's tears shone in the lamplight on her white face while she beat the hand drum. She played it with more skill and intensity than usual that morning.
Nobunaga threw down his fan and called out, "It's death!" As he donned his armor he said, "Sai, if you hear that I've been killed, set the castle on fire immediately. Burn it until there's nothing left to see."
She put down the drum, and with her palms together on the floor, she replied, "Yes, my lord," without raising her head.
"Nagato! Blow the conch!" Nobunaga turned toward the inner citadel, where his lovely daughters lived, then to the mortuary tablets of his ancestors. "Farewell," he said with intense emotion. The he fastened the cords of his helmet and ran out.
The conch calling the troops to battle sounded in the quiet of the predawn darkness. The light of tiny stars shone brilliantiy through the rifts in the clouds.
"Lord Nobunaga is going to war!" Word was carried by an attendant, surprising the samurai who ran into him in their hurry.
The men who worked in the kitchens and the warriors who were too old to fight and would stay to guard the castle rushed to the gate to see their comrades off. To count them would have been a fair estimate of the men left in Kiyosu Castle—less than forty or fifty. This was how short of men they were, both inside the castle and riding with Nobunaga.
The horse that Nobunaga rode that day was called Tsukinowa. At the gate, the rustling of the young leaves could be heard in the dark wind, and lights flickered in the lanterns. Nobunaga leaped up onto the horse, into a mother-of-pearl saddle, and galloped to the main gate, the tassels of his armor and his long sword jangling as he rode.
Those staying behind in the castle forgot themselves and shouted as they prostrated themselves. Nobunaga spoke a few words of farewell to these old men who had served him for so many years. He felt sorry for these warriors and for his daughters, who were losing both a castle and a master. Without his being aware of it, Nobunaga's eyes moistened with tears.
In the time it had taken Nobunaga to shut his hot eyelids, Tsukinowa had already galloped like a squall out of the castle, into the dawn.
"My lord!"
"My lord!"
"Wait!"
Master and attendants were no more than six mounted men. And as usual, his retainers strained to keep from being left behind. Nobunaga did not look back. The enemy was to the east; their allies were also on the front lines. By the time they reached the place where they would die, the sun would already be high in the sky. As he galloped along, Nobunaga thought that, from the perspective of eternity, to be born in this province and to return to its soil meant nothing.
"Ho!"
"My lord!" someone suddenly called out from a crossroads in the town.
"Yoshinari?" he shouted back.
"Yes, my lord."
"And Katsuie?"
"Here, my lord!"
"You were quick!" Nobunaga praised them and asked, standing up in his stirrups, how many are you?"
"A hundred twenty mounted men under Mori Yoshinari, and eighty under Shibata Katsuie, so altogether about two hundred. We held back to accompany you."
Among the archers under Yoshinari was Mataemon, and Tokichiro was also there in the throng, at the head of thirty foot soldiers.
Nobunaga noticed him at once. Monkey's here, too. From horseback, he surveyed the hundred excited soldiers. I have followers like this, he thought, and his eyes brightened. To strike at the raging waves of an enemy forty thousand strong, his own soldiers were no more than a small ship or a handful of sand. But Nobunaga was bold enough to ask himself, I wonder if Yoshimoto has followers like this. He was proud, both as a general and as a man. Even if they were defeated, his men would not have died in vain. They were going to make their mark on this earth as they dug their own graves. "It's nearly dawn. Let's go!" Nobunaga pointed ahead.
When his horse galloped down the Atsuta Road to the east, the two hundred soldiers moved on like a cloud, stirring up the morning mist that stood as high as the eaves of the houses on both sides of the road. There was neither order nor rank. It was every man for himself. Ordinarily, when the lord of a province went to war, the commoners all stopped their work, swept the fronts of the houses, and saw the troops off. The soldiers marched by, displaying their banners and standards. The commander himself showed off his authority and power. And they marched to the battlefield, six steps to the drumbeat, with all the splendor and power that the province could muster. But Nobunaga was completely indifferent to such empty posturing. They dashed ahead so quickly that they could not fall into orderly ranks.
They were going to fight to the death. With an attitude that seemed to shout, "Whoever is coming, come on!" Nobunaga took the lead. There were no stragglers. On the contrary, as they advanced, their numbers swelled. As the call to arms had been sudden, those who were not ready in time now rushed to join them from the side streets and alleys, or caught up with them from behind.
The sounds of their footsteps and voices awoke those who still slept through the early hours of the dawn. Along the road, farmers, merchants, and artisans opened their doors, and sleepy-eyed people yelled out, "A battle!"
They may have guessed later that the man who had galloped in the lead in the morning mist was their lord, Oda Nobunaga. But nobody saw now.
"Nagato! Nagato!" Nobunaga turned in the saddle, but Nagato was not there; he was about fifty yards behind in the melee. Those who were coming up behind—their horses neck-and-neck—were Katsuie and Yoshinari. More men had joined them at the entrance of Atsuta.
"Katsuie!" Nobunaga yelled. "We'll see the great gate of the shrine soon. Stop the troops out in front. Even I am not going to go without saying a prayer." Almost as he spoke, he pulled up to the great gate. He jumped nimbly to the ground, and the waiting head priest, with some twenty attendants, rushed forward and took the reins of his horse.
"Thank you for coming out to meet me. I've come to say a prayer." The head priest led the way. The approach to the shrine, lined with cryptomeria trees, was damp with little droplets of mist. The head priest stood by the sacred spring, and invited Nobunaga to purify himself. Nobunaga took the cypress-wood ladle, washed his hands, and rinsed his mouth. Then he took one more ladleful and drank it down in one gulp.