Nagoya Castle appeared before them. The water in the moat was turning green. Crossing the Karabashi Bridge, the procession meandered through the outer grounds and disappeared through the castle gate. It was the first time of many that Hiyoshi would cross this bridge and pass through this gate.
* * *
It was fall. Looking at the reapers in the rice paddies as he passed, a rather short samurai hurried along on foot toward Nakamura. Arriving at the house of Chikuami, he called out in an uncommonly loud voice, "Mother!"
"Oh, my! Hiyoshi!"
His mother had given birth to yet another child. Sitting among red beans spread out to dry, she cradled the child in her arms, exposing its pale skin to the rays of the sun. Turning around and seeing the transformation in her son, a strong emotion broke across her face. Was she happy or sad? Her eyes filled with tears and her lip quivered.
"It's me, Mother. Is everybody well?"
With a little jump, Hiyoshi sat down on a straw mat next to her. The smell of milk lingered on her breast. She embraced him in the same way as the child she was nursing.
"What's happened?" she asked.
"Nothing. This is my day off. It's the first time I've been outside the castle since I went there."
"Ah, good. Your showing up so suddenly made me think that things had gone wrong again." She heaved a sigh of relief, and for the first time since his arrival, showed him a smiling face. She took a good look at her grown-up son, noting his clean silk clothes, the way his hair was tied, his long and short swords. Tears brimmed from her eyes and rolled down her cheeks.
"Mother, you should be happy. At last I'm one of Lord Nobunaga's retainers. Oh, I'm only in the servants' group, but I really am a samurai in service."
"Good for you. You've done well." She held her tattered sleeves to her face, unable to look up.
Hiyoshi put his arm around her. "Just to please you, this morning I tied my hair up and put on clean clothes. But still better things are to come after this. I'm going to show you what I can do, make you really happy. Mother, I hope you have a long life!"
"When I heard what happened last summer… I never imagined I'd see you like this."
"I suppose you heard from Otowaka."
"Yes, he came and told me you'd caught His Lordship's eye and had been taken on as a servant up at the castle. I was so happy I could have died."
"If such a little thing makes you so happy, what about the future? The first thing I want you to know is that I have been permitted to have a surname."
"And what might that be?"
"Kinoshita, like my father. But my first name has been changed to Tokichiro."
"Kinoshita Tokichiro."
"That's right. It's a good name, don't you think? You'll have to put up with this dilapidated house and these rags for a while longer, but cheer up. You're the mother of Kinoshita Tokichiro!"
"I've never been so happy." She repeated this several times, the tears freshening with each word Tokichiro spoke. He was very pleased to see how happy she was for him. Who else in the world could be so truly happy for him over such a trivial matter? He even imagined that his years of wandering, hunger, and hardship contributed to the happiness of this moment.
"By the way, how's Otsumi?"
"She's helping with the harvest."
"Is she all right? She's not sick, is she?"
"She's the same as ever," Onaka said, reminded of Otsumi's miserable adolescense.
"When she comes back, please tell her she won't have to suffer forever. Before long, when I become somebody, she'll have a sash of figured satin, a chest of drawers with a gold crest, and everything she needs for her wedding. Ha, ha! You think I'm just rambling on, as usual?"
"Are you leaving already?"
"Service at the castle is strict. So, Mother," he lowered his voice, "it's disrespectful to repeat what people say about His Lordship not being able to rule the province, but the truth is, the Lord Nobunaga seen by the public and the Lord Nobunaga in Nagoya Castle are very different."
"That's probably true."
"It's a sorry situation. He has very few real allies. Both his retainers and his own relatives are for the most part against him. At nineteen he's all alone. If you think the suffering of starving farmers is the most pitiful thing, you're far from correct. If you see the point, you can be more patient. We shouldn't give in just because we're human. We’re on the road to happiness, my master and me."
"That makes me happy, but don't be too hasty. No matter how much you rise in the world, my happiness can't be any greater than it is right now."
"Well, then, look after yourself."
"Won't you stay and talk a little more?"
"I have to get back to my duties."
He silently stood up and placed some money on his mother's straw mat. Then he looked around fondly at the persimmon tree, the chrysanthemums by the fence, and the storage shed in back.
He did not come again that year, but at the end of the year Otowaka visited his mother, bringing her a little money, medicine, and cloth to make a kimono. "He’s still a household servant," he reported. "When he reaches eighteen and his stipend increases a little, if he can get a house in town, he says he'll bring his mother to live with him. He’s a little crazy, but he's fairly sociable too, and he's well liked. The reckless incident at the Shonai River was like an escape from death. He does have to have the devil's own luck.”
That New Year Otsumi wore new clothes for the first time. "My little brother sent them to me. Tokichiro at the castle!" she told one and all, and wherever she went, she was unable to keep from repeating "my little brother did this" and "my little brother did that."
* * *
At times Nobunaga's mood changed; he became quiet and spent the entire day moping. This extraordinary silence and melancholy seemed to be natural attempts to control his extremely quick temper.
"Bring Uzuki!" he suddenly yelled one day, and ran off to the riding grounds. His father, Nobuhide, had spent his whole life in warfare, with virtually no time to relax in the castle. During more than half of each year he campaigned in the west and east. He did manage on most mornings to hold a memorial service for his ancestors, receive the salutions of his retainers, listen to lectures on ancient texts, and practice the martial arts and tend to the government of his province until evening. When the day was over, he would study treatises on military strategy or hold council meetings, or try to be a good father to his family. When Nobunaga succeeded his father, this order came to an end. It was not in his character to follow a strict daily routine. He was impulsive in the extreme, his mind like the clouds of an evening squall, ideas suddenly arising and just as suddenly discarded. It seemed that his body and spirit were beyond all regulation.
Needless to say, this kept his attendants very much on their toes. That day he had sat down with a book, and later had gone meekly to the Buddhist chapel to offer a prayer to his ancestors. In the quiet of the chapel, his call for his horse was as startling as a thunderbolt. The attendants could not find him where they had heard his voice. They rushed the stables and followed him to the riding grounds. He said nothing, but the look on his face plainly reproached them for their slowness.
Uzuki, his favorite horse, was white. When he was dissatisfied and plied the whip, the old horse reacted languidly. Nobunaga was in the habit of leading Uzuki around by the muzzle, complaining about his slowness. Then he'd say, "Give him some water." Taking a ladle, a groom would open the horse's mouth and pour the water in, and Nobunaga would thrust his hand into the horse's mouth and grab his tongue. Today he said, "Uzuki! You've got an evil tongue, haven't you? That's why your legs are heavy."