I'm not good with monks.
No, not good with—to be honest, they scare me. The voices chanting sutras, the smell of incense, the eyes staring at me out of dark halls.
More than anything, that mountain had a great many armed warrior monks. Those who served the Buddha, carrying swords and glaives. That frightened me more than I could stand.
When I was a child, a monk told me about hell. That those who kill people are boiled in a cauldron after they die. That's stayed stuck in a corner of my head ever since, and it won't come loose. If I could help it, I didn't want to fall into any hell. I didn't want to make an enemy of the Buddha.
That Mount Hiei was about to turn against me.
At the Anegawa, I'd defeated the Azai and the Asakura. But neither Nagamasa nor the Asakura had been destroyed. The Azai and Asakura forces that escaped—holed up on Mount Hiei. Enryaku-ji sheltered them. In other words, the whole mountain was about to become my enemy.
To be honest, I was confused. Why would a temple join a war? Weren't those who serve the Buddha supposed not to kill? The Buddha's teachings as I knew them and the warrior monks before my eyes, glaives in hand—I just couldn't connect the two.
But this was the age of warring provinces. Temples, too, held land, kept soldiers, and sought to protect their own power. It wasn't something a man like me could interfere in.
I panicked. Fighting a temple—no thank you, absolutely not. I was afraid of the Buddha's punishment. Afraid of the warrior monks. Afraid of what people would say, too.
So I sent envoys to the mountain again and again. Please, I asked, don't side with either one.
"I have no wish to attack the temple. I ask only that you stay neutral."
"Side with neither the Azai nor the Asakura. Only keep quiet, and that will suffice."
Low, short—that's how I had it conveyed.
Once wasn't enough. I sent envoys two times, three times. Changing the words each time, changing the men. Praying that somehow it would settle peacefully.
Honestly, I felt like getting down on my hands and knees and pressing my forehead to the floor. Please. Let me be. Don't drag me into this. I don't want to fight. Not anyone.
But I couldn't have an envoy say anything so weak. So I had them deliver it as briefly, as intimidatingly as possible.
That—backfired.
My desperate pleading apparently sounded like this to the monks on the mountain.
"The Demon King Nobunaga demands that the holy mountain submit to him."
"An insolent deed, fearing not the Buddha's law."
No. I was just scared and asking. Please. You don't have to take anyone's side. Just don't fight me.
—That wish was not granted.