By that time a number of flat-bottomed fishing boats that had been scattered along the bank began making their way across the water. Dozens of lightly armored soldiers leaned forward and leaped out, one after another, onto the opposite bank. The poles were then quickly set to bring the boats back to transport yet another group across.
In the twinkling of an eye, the only man left on the bank was Sanzo. Finally the shouts of the warriors shook the damp night sky, from the opposite bank to the area just below the castle. In that instant one corner of the sky turned red, and sparks danced and glittered above the castle town.
Shonyu's clever plan had worked perfectly. Inuyama Castle fell in only an hour, its defenders taken by a surprise that was made more complete by treachery inside the castle and the town. Treachery was certainly one reason why a castle with such good natural defenses fell in such a short time. But there was yet another reason: Shonyu had once been the commander of Inuyama Castle, and the townspeople, the headmen in the surrounding villages, and even the farmers still remembered their former master. Although Shonyu had sent retainers to buy off those men with money just before the attack, the success of the plan owed far more to his former position than to bribery.
* * *
A man belonging to an illustrious family in decline tends to attract a complicated set of characters. The farsighted, the frivolous, the men who deplore the present evils but are unable to speak their own words or offer loyal advice—all of those quickly leave the scene. And those who are sensitive to the trends but have neither the strength nor the talent to check the decline also move on at some point.
The only men remaining are of two kinds: those who have no outstanding talents that would support their lives elsewhere if they did leave, and those truly faithful men who are retainers to the very end, through poverty and decline, life and death, happiness and grief.
But who are the true samurai? Those who live expediently or those who remain simply for the sake of opportunism? This is not easily understood, because all of them use every bit of their ingenuity to deceive their lords into overevaluating their talents.
Although he was an opportunist, Ieyasu was a player of an entirely different cast from the infantile Nobuo, who knew absolutely nothing about the world. Ieyasu held Nobuo in the palm of his hand like a chessman-in-reserve.
“Well now, you've gone to extraordinary lengths, Lord Nobuo," Ieyasu said. "Really, I’ll just have a little more rice. I was brought up in a modest household, so both my palate and my stomach are overwhelmed by the luxury of tonight's meal."
It was the night of the thirteenth. When Ieyasu arrived in Kiyosu that afternoon, Nobuo took him to a temple where the two of them held secret talks for several hours. A banquet was held that evening in the guest rooms in the castle.
Ieyasu had not moved to the center even during the Honno Temple incident. Now, however, he was gambling the Tokugawa clan's entire strength—a strength he had spent many years in building up—and had ridden to Kiyosu himself. Nobuo looked to Ieyasu as his savior. He was going to do his best to entertain him, and now he put delicacies in front of him.
But to Ieyasu's eyes, Nobuo's hospitality was really nothing but immature child's play, and he could only feel sorry for the man. At a former time, Ieyasu had feasted and entertained Nobunaga for seven days when the latter was making a triumphal return from Kai on the pretext of sightseeing at Mount Fuji. When he recalled the scale of that event, Ieyasu could only pity the poverty of this evening.
A human being could only view the situation with pity, and Ieyasu felt his share. He was, however, a man who knew that the nature of the universe was change. So, even though he felt pity and sympathy in the middle of such a banquet, he did not suffer any pangs of conscience about his ulterior motive, which was simply to use this fragile and aristocratic fop as his own puppet. The reason was clear: there is no one more likely to kindle disaster than the foolish heir of an illustrious family who has been bequeathed both an inheritance and a reputation. And the more he is capable of being used, the more dangerous he becomes.
Hideyoshi most likely thought the same as Ieyasu. But while Hideyoshi considered Nobuo a hindrance to his own goals and thought of ways to dispose of him, Ieyasu was finding ways to use him. Those opposing viewpoints were based on the same fundamental goal for both Hideyoshi and Ieyasu. And no matter which man won, Nobuo's fate would be the same because he was simply unable to abandon the idea that he was Nobunaga's heir.
"What do you mean?" Nobuo said. "The real feast is just starting. It's a fine spring night, and it would be a shame to go to bed so soon."
Nobuo was trying his best to entertain Ieyasu, but the truth was that Ieyasu had work to do.
"No, Lord Nobuo. His Lordship shouldn't have any more sake. At least judging from the color of his face. Send the cup in our direction."
But Nobuo had not noticed the guest of honor's embarrassing boredom. His efforts were now guided by his misinterpretation of the sleepy look in his guest's eyes. He whispered to his retainers, and the sliding paper doors at the end of the room were quickly removed, revealing an orchestra and dancers. To Ieyasu it was the usual contrivance, but with a patient look he displayed interest at moments, laughed from time to time, and clapped his hands when the performance ended.
Taking this opportunity, his retainers tugged at Ieyasu's sleeve and quietly signaled him that it was time for bed, but in that very instant a comedian appeared with a flourish of musical instruments.
"For the honored guest this evening, we are now going to present a performance of Kabuki, recently received in the capital "
The man's loquacity was incredible. He then sang an introduction to the play. Then another actor introduced a stanza from a chorus and some chants from the Christian mass, which had recently been gaining favor among the lords of the western provinces.
He played an instrument that resembled the viola used in church services, and his clothes were embroidered with a Western-style design and trimmed with lace, dazzlingly harmonized with a traditional Japanese kimono.
The audience was impressed and fascinated. There was no doubt that what pleased the common man also gave pleasure to the great lords and samurai.
“Lord Nobuo, Lord Ieyasu says that he's getting sleepy," Okudaira said to Nobuo, who had been completely taken by the play.
Nobuo quickly got up to see Ieyasu off, walking him to his apartments himself. The Kabuki performance had not yet finished, and the viola, flutes, and drums could still be heard.
The following morning Nobuo arose at what was for him an exceptionally early hour and went off to Ieyasu's apartments. There he found Ieyasu ready with the fresh face of dawn, discussing some matter with his retainers.
“What about Lord Ieyasu's breakfast?" Nobuo inquired.
When a retainer told him that breakfast had already been served, Nobuo looked a little embarrassed.
At that point a samurai on guard in the garden and a soldier up in the reconnaissance tower yelled back and forth about something going on in the distance. That caught the attention of both Ieyasu and Nobuo, and as they sat silently for a moment, a samurai came up to make a report.
:Black smoke has been visible for a while now in the sky far off to the northwest. At first we thought it was a forest fire, but the smoke gradually changed its location, and then a number of other smoke clouds started rising into the sky."
Nobuo shrugged. If it had been the southeast, he might have thought of the battlefields in Ise or other places, but his expression indicated that he didn't understand at all.