The horrors of war crowded in and around: also its exigencies. Self-preservation enforced some kind of participation: the same elemental voice bade her keep hands off. A fight to the death, perhaps the victor stamping his imprint indelibly and unalterably, awaited her: Yodogima sniffed the enamour of contest, of powers gained and a will unhampered, and the gods could not have swerved her in the test a Taira, of ages gone, had fought for the pleasure.
I will rule, and men shall bow to a force subtler, fiercer, and mightier than any man has got, shouted she, at her shadow, in the open, at Ozaka, and the echo, from the hills at Sawayama, as well of Yedo, burst back upon her their hitherto unchallenged answer.
It is false, cried she, this time, and the reply then pleased her; it sounded more like the voice of a man.
But she must not thus hurl defiance in his ears; had she not been taught for centuries that womans strength lay in meekness, arose from humbleness, grew with submission, abided the household, and sweltered with servility?
Ha, ha—fie on them! laughed she now, ashamed of her own foolish recollections, so feeble-minded and asinine withal. Ill invoke his tactics, but with a turn he little comprehends.
Both of these men, Ishida and Ieyasu, must be got rid of. How to do it, were a problem. Ishida, it seemed imperative, should be attended first; his force had grown the stronger, and with Ieyasu out of the way he himself would stand little in awe of her alone, concerned not at all, as he was, about scruples or the bushido. Still more, if needs use it Yodogima reckoned her hold upon the heart of Ieyasu, whereas Ishida in authority had been a colder, altogether listless lover.
The clash of arms already sounded from distant Aidzu, where Uyesuga, Ishidas main ally, had purposely inaugurated a ruse to entice the enemy as far from the capital as possible. Ieyasu fell into the trap; went there pell mell, deploying but a small contingent to guard the gates at Fushima: took with him those captains of the old guard who had fairly joined themselves to him, leaving their wives and families behind, outside the ramparts at Ozaka. Ishida struck first at Fushima: it fell, and the next move encompassed the capture and imprisonment of these same wives and families left at Ozaka, believing that their ransom would insure to him the disaffection and rejoinder of some of Ieyasus leading generals and supporters. Esyo, however, had gone; but Yodogima, for good reasons, best known to herself, remained as silent as the tomb of Hideyoshi had become.
Grace of Tango, the wife of Hosokawa, now one of Ieyasus foremost leaders, served at once as a first and most likely victim. She, good Christian that she was, scorned the distinction, and extending her neck—as became a dutiful, loyal, loving wife—for the stroke of a servant (prearranged by the thoughtful husband, upon taking his leave), paid the penalty as became her station, regardless of feeling or profession. Made it possible for Ishida thus to blunder, and Yodogima to endear the whole Christian fraternity, of whatsoever camp or degree, by sympathizing with them in the loss of one so good and true at heart, if not of conviction. Nor did she stop at that alone, but secretly dispatching her own sister, Jokoin, the sooner to inform the hitherto somewhat wavering captains as she herself had better designed, incidentally informing them that no further bloodshed should take place in the vicinity of Ozaka, upon the whole induced them, one and all alike, to swear fresher, if more susceptible, allegiance to Ieyasu—for the sole purpose, if none other, of avenging the one death that had resulted so pathetically, yet none the less opportunely.
Two definite accomplishments Yodogima had wrought into the indiscretions of a foe—her seemingly most dangerous one, Ishida; she had weakened his position by uniting the men he had coveted the more certainly to Ieyasu, and gained the everlasting good will of all the Christians whatever the colors they bore.
Ishida now concentrated upon Sekigahara, anticipating the hot-headed return of Ieyasu and the sorely tried captains now in his advance. Mori remained behind at Ozaka, ostensibly to watch the remainder of those wives and families, finally fenced in and abandoned to a gentler fate than at first contemplated. Neither would he withdraw from the castle, save as directed or encouraged by Yodogima; her company had become, strangely to him, no less delectable than the inkling of her plans (that she let slip, occasionally) seemed inviting, or threateningly wholesome. Hideki had followed, sulkily, to the contemplated battlefield, though his conduct at Fushima might have signified, to one more observant or less pressed than Ishida, that Esyo or someone as anxious had called, not without success, and gone her way, elsewhere to reap the advantage.