In less than two months, as Signenari had stated, Hieyas had made himself dreaded; he had at his beck and call an army which public report numbered at five hundred thousand. The provinces of Sagama, Mikawa, and Sourouga, which belonged to him, had furnished large bodies of soldiers. The lord of Owari, the most devoted of Hieyas' allies, had commanded every able-bodied man in his principality to take up arms; so that there was not a laborer left upon his lands. The Prince of Tosa was powerfully entrenched in the large Island of Shikoku, lying to the south of the kingdom, opposite Osaka Bay. From that point he threatened the Shogun's capital.
The majority of the sovereign lords of Japan, confident of the success of Hieyas, lent him their aid, and held their forces at his disposal.
Hieyas had established himself at Yeddo,—then a mere suburb, whose fine strategic position tempted him. Situated about mid-distance of the length of the great Island of Nipon, at the extreme end of a bay which cut deeply into the land, and surrounded by high mountains, it was easily fortified, and once fortified, impregnable. Moreover, its position in the centre of Japan, in view of the small width of the island, allowed communication by land to be readily cut off between the large Island of Yezo, the northern part of Nipon, and its southern portion, in which lay Kioto, Osaka, and the principalities of Fide-Yori's partisans. In this way, one half of Japan was insulated, and thus forced to remain neutral, or take sides with Hieyas.
The aged Regent displayed an unparalleled activity. In spite of his advanced years and precarious health, he proceeded to every spot where he thought his influence necessary. With those princes who were hostile to him, he feigned that he still held the power no longer his, and claimed from them the number of troops which they were bound to furnish the Government in time of war. Then he hastily despatched those men to distant points. In case his enemies learned the truth, they were thus disabled from harming him.
But after realizing these daring schemes, and preparing for the violent struggle necessary in order to usurp the supreme power, Hieyas felt so weak, so enfeebled by fever and pain, that he imagined he was about to die. He speedily summoned his son, who was then residing at the castle of Mikawa.
Fide-Tadda, son of Hieyas, was at this time forty-five years old. He was a man of no great personal valor, but patient, persevering, and submissive to minds superior to his own. He professed a boundless admiration for his father. He instantly hastened to the side of Hieyas, taking with him his youngest daughter, a lovely girl of fifteen.
Hieyas lived in a stronghold which he had built years—before at Yeddo, and which was not yet wholly finished. From the room in which he lay, stretched on thick cushions, he saw through the large window the beautiful Fusiyama, from whose snow-covered summit issued a column of delicate white smoke.
"Is that your daughter?" said Hieyas, as Fide-Tadda approached him with the girl.
"Yes, illustrious father; this is the younger sister of the Shogun's wife."
"The Shogun's wife!" repeated Hieyas, shaking his head and sneering. "The little thing is very pretty," he added, after inspecting the young girl minutely, making her blush and drop her long black lashes on her cheeks. "Take good care of her; I shall need her."