"We're almost there! Dengakuhazama is on the far side of that mountain and through a marsh. Are you ready to die? If you fall behind, you'll leave only shame to your descendants until the end of time!"
The main body of Nobunaga's forces did not advance in formation. Some soldiers were late in arriving, while others advanced in loose ranks. Their hearts, however, were drawn on by his voice.
Nobunaga had yelled himself hoarse, and it was difficult for the men to catch what he was saying. But that was no longer necessary. It was enough for them to know that he was leading them. Meanwhile, a driving rain had begun to fall like shining spearheads. The raindrops were big enough to hurt when they hit the men's cheeks and noses. This was accompanied by a gale that tore away the leaves, so that they hardly knew what was striking their faces.
Suddenly a thunderbolt nearly rent the mountain in half. For an instant, heaven and earth were one color—smoky white in the downpour. When the rain let up, muddy streams and waterfalls flowed all over the marshes and slopes.
"There it is!" Tokichiro yelled. He turned and pointed past his foot soldiers, who were blinking raindrops off their eyelashes, to the Imagawa camp. The enemy's curtained enclosures seemed innumerable, all of them soaked by the rain. Before them was the marsh. Beyond that, the slope of Dengakuhazama.
When they looked again, Tokichiro's men could see the helmeted and armored figures of their allies already rushing in. They brandished swords, spears, and halberds. Nobunaga had said that the advantage was in traveling light, and many of the men had discarded their helmets, and thrown away their banners.
Threading their way through the trees, slipping over the grassy ridges, they immediately set upon the enemy's enclosures. Now and again, blue-green lightning flashed in the sky, and the white rain and black wind wrapped the world in darkness.
Yelling at his men, Tokichiro dashed through the marsh and started up the hill. They slipped and fell, but kept up with him. Rather than saying that they charged and leaped into the fray, it would be truer to say that Tokichiro's little unit was swallowed whole by the battle.
Laughter reverberated around Yoshimoto's headquarters as the thunder pealed. Even when the wind freshened, the stones that held down the curtains of the enclosure stayed put.
"This should blow away the heat!" they joked, and still they drank. But they were in the field and planned to advance as far as Odaka by evening, so no one exceeded his limit.
About then, it was announced that lunch was ready. The generals ordered the food to be brought to Yoshimoto, and as they emptied their cups, rice containers and large soup pots were placed before them. At the same time, the rain started to fall in noisy drops, striking the pots, rice containers, straw mats, and armor.
Finally noticing the ominous look of the sky, they began to move their mats. In the enclosure stood a large camphor tree with a trunk so huge it would have taken three men
To circle it with outstretched arms. Yoshimoto stood under the tree, sheltered from the rain. The others hurried behind him, bringing his mats and bowls.
The swaying of the huge tree shook the ground, and its branches howled in the violent wind. As both brown and green leaves flew up like dust and blew against the men's armor, the smoke from the cooking fires was blown close along the ground, blinding and choking Yoshimoto and his generals.
'Please endure this for just a moment. We're putting up a rain cover now." One of the generals called loudly for soldiers, but there was no response. In the bleached white spray of the rain and the roar of the trees, his voice was carried off into the void, and no reply came. Only the loud snapping of firewood could be heard from the kitchen enclosure, from which smoke spewed out furiously.
“Call the commander of the foot soldiers!" As one of the generals ran out into the piercing rain, a strange sound welled up from the surrounding area. It was a moan that seemed to come from the earth itself—the violent clash of one forged weapon against another. And the storm did not content itself with the surface of Yoshimoto's skin; the confusion now blew fiercely into his mind as well.
“What is it? What's going on?" Yoshimoto and his generals seemed utterly bewildered. Have we been betrayed? Are the men fighting among themselves?" Still not realizing what was going on, the samurai and generals at Yoshimoto's side intantly drew around him like a protective wall.
“What is it?" they yelled. But the Oda forces had already surged into the camp like a tide, and were now running right outside the curtain.
“The enemy!"
“The Oda!"
Spears clashed, and embers of firewood flew above the confused cries of struggling men. Yoshimoto, still standing under the huge camphor tree, seemed to have lost his ability tospeak. He chewed his lip with his black teeth, apparently unable to believe what was happening right before his eyes. Yoshimoto's generals stood around him with grim faces, yelling back and forth.
“Is this a rebellion?"
“Are these men rebels?"
There was no answer except for cries, and despite the alarmed shouts coming from all over the camp, they could not believe it was the enemy attacking. But they could not doubt their own ears for long. The Oda warriors appeared right in front of them, their harsh war cries in the strange Owari dialect piercing the ears of Yoshimoto's retainers. Two or three of the enemy rushed in their direction.
“Hey! Lord of Suruga!"
When they saw the Oda men coming, screaming like demons, jumping and slipping over the mud, brandishing spears and halberds, they were finally shocked into recognizing the true situation,
“The Oda!"
“A surprise attack!"
The confusion was more terrible than if they had been attacked at night. They had underestimated Nobunaga. It was lunchtime. This, in addition to the violent storm, had
allowed the enemy to enter the camp completely undetected. But it was their own advance guard that had really put Yoshimoto's headquarters totally at ease.
The two generals detached to guard the headquarters were stationed less than a mile from the hill, but suddenly, and without warning from their own lookouts, the enemy was rushing in unchecked, right before the eyes of Yoshimoto and his generals.
From the very beginning, Nobunaga had avoided the camps of the vanguard. As they went through Taishigadake and straight to Dengakuhazama, Nobunaga himself brandished a spear and fought Yoshimoto's soldiers. Very likely the soldiers speared by Nobunaga had had no idea who their adversary had been. Severely wounding two or three men as he advanced, Nobunaga galloped toward the curtained enclosure.
"The camphor tree!" Nobunaga yelled out as one of his men ran past him. "Don't let the lord of Suruga escape! He's probably in the enclosure under the big camphor tree!" Nobunaga had guessed instantly where Yoshimoto would be, just by looking at the layout of the camp.
"My lord!" In the confusion of the battle, Nobunaga nearly rode over one of his soldiers kneeling in front of him, a bloody spear at his side.
"Who are you?"
"Maeda Inuchiyo, my lord."
"Inuchiyo? Well, get to work! Fight!"
The rain fell onto the muddy paths, and the wind swept along the earth. Branches of the camphor tree and surrounding pines snapped off and were sent crashing to the ground. Water dripped off the branches onto Yoshimoto's helmet.
"My lord, over here! This way." Four or five of Yoshimoto's retainers formed a protective ring around him and hurried him from one enclosure to the next, trying to avoid a disaster.
"Is the lord of Suruga in here?" The instant Yoshimoto had left, an Oda warrior brandishing a spear challenged one of the generals who had stayed behind.
"Come here, I'll give you a fight!" the general yelled, checking the soldier's spear with his own.
The intruder identified himself, breathing heavily, "I am Maeda Inuchiyo, retainer to Lord Nobunaga!" The general replied, giving his own name and rank. He lunged forward, but Inuchiyo stepped to the side, and the spear struck into the void.
Inuchiyo had his opening, but not enough time to pull back his long spear, and so he simply struck the man full on the head with the spear shaft. The bowl of the helmet rang like a gong, and the injured man crawled out into the rain on all fours. Just then, two more men yelled out their names. When Inuchiyo adjusted his stance, someone fell on his back. Inuchiyo tripped and stumbled over the corpse of a soldier.
“Kinoshita Tokichiro!" Somewhere his friend was identifying himself. Inuchiyo smiled, the wind and rain striking his cheeks. He was blinded by the mud. There was blood wherever he looked. The moment he had slipped and fallen, he had seen that there were neither enemies nor allies in the immediate vicinity. Corpses were piled on top of corpses, and the rain made little splashing sounds on their backs. His straw sandals were dyed crimson as he kicked his way through a river of blood. Where was the lord with blackened teeth? He wanted Yoshimoto's head.
The rain called. The wind called.
Inuchiyo was not alone in his quest. Kuwabara Jinnai, a ronin from Kai, dressed in armor from the waist down, brandishing a spear smeared with blood, ran around the camphor tree and yelled out in his hoarse voice, "I'm coming for the lord of Suruga! Where is this great General Yoshimoto?" A gust of wind lifted the edge of a curtain, lightning flashed, and he saw a man wearing a red coat over his armor, and a crested helmet with eight dragons.
The furious voice rebuking his retainers might well be Yoshimoto's: "Never mind about me! This is an emergency! I don't need a lot of men around me. Chase an enemy who's come here to give you his head. Kill Nobunaga! Instead of protecting me, fight!" He was, after all, the commander of three armies and grasped the situation faster than anyone else. Now he was angry with the worthless commanders and warriors who ran aimlessly around him, shouting unintelligibly.
Chastened, several of the soldiers went plodding up the muddy road. When they had passed Jinnai's hiding place, he lifted the soaked curtain with the tip of his spear to make sure the man was indeed Yoshimoto.
Yoshimoto was no longer there. The enclosure was empty. A large wooden bowl of rice had been overturned, and the white grains of rice were lying sodden in the rainwater. Other than that, there were only the embers of four or five sticks of smoldering firewood.