Vol. 1 Chapter 2.3 – Mid-September, 1566

Around the time Oda Nobunaga had established an encirclement around Mino and was waging a campaign against Saito Tatsuoki for control of Mino Province.

Shizuko’s village, where not even the slightest hint of war could be felt, had turned out in full force to harvest the rice.

The sight of richly ripened rice plants crowding the fields was nothing short of a bumper harvest.

However, harvesting rice was one of the most grueling tasks involved in rice cultivation.

The conventional method involved cutting the rice stalks with a sickle, then tying them into bundles once a sufficient amount had been gathered.

This method required workers to bend over throughout the process, inevitably placing considerable strain on their lower backs.

Thus, Shizuko decided to prepare a push-type, manually operated rice harvester.

Although it could only cut the rice stalks and could not bind them into bundles simultaneously, it eliminated the need for workers to bend over while working.

By organizing the villagers into teams of several people, with each member assigned either harvesting or bundling duties, she successfully reduced the physical burden of the work.

However, the amount of rice to be harvested was incomparably greater than ever before and even with the introduction of machinery, they found themselves so busy that their heads were practically spinning.

Nevertheless, there was no sign of suffering on the farmers’ faces.

“Ah, what a bumper harvest! A bumper harvest indeed! It’s a little less than planned but we’ve managed to harvest a pretty good amount of rice.”

Watching the villagers harvesting the rice, Shizuko nodded in satisfaction.

Although the yield seemed slightly lower than she had anticipated, it was still an extraordinary harvest by the standards of the time.

With the harvesting completed, one might have wished to take a breather, but there was still plenty of work remaining after the harvest.

First, the rice needed to be dried.

The drying process, which involved hanging bundles of harvested rice stalks over poles, had a significant impact on the taste of the rice.

Depending on the weather, the process generally took around one to two weeks.

Once the drying was complete, the next steps were threshing the rice, hulling it to remove the husks and finally polishing it.

However, once the husks were removed, the rice could no longer be stored for extended periods.

Therefore, all the harvested rice was temporarily packed into straw bales with its husks still intact.

Considering that this was the Sengoku period, an era without refrigerators or anything of the sort, it was only natural to prioritize long-term preservation.

As for hulling and polishing, the latter could be accomplished using a waterwheel-powered rice polisher, although it took considerable time.

Its processing capacity was one to (approximately 15 kilograms) every six hours, but since most of the work could be performed automatically, and unlike mechanical rice polishing, it did not cause the rice grains to heat up, it could preserve the rice’s natural taste and aroma.

Hulling, however, was another matter. More precisely, the problem lay in separating the brown rice from the unhulled grains after the hulling process.

She employed an oscillating separation method, preparing several inclined, recessed shaking plates and vibrating them horizontally. This allowed the brown rice and unhulled grains to be separated based on differences in their specific gravity and coefficients of friction. However, a final inspection by hand was still necessary.

Unlike the conventional Mangoku-style separator, this method did not require a skilled operator and was relatively easy to perform. However, when dealing with such an enormous quantity, those advantages hardly mattered.

Anyone would feel overwhelmed when faced with a mountain of harvested rice.

‘I guess making everything fully automatic is just… impossible, huh?’

There was no hope of achieving anything resembling modern mechanized harvesting, drying, threshing and rice polishing.

Although she had introduced machinery to improve work efficiency, every single device still relied on human power.

There were, after all, limits to what could be accomplished.

‘Well, I guess this is about as far as I can go. No point in being too greedy.’

Having realized that she could not expect any further improvements in efficiency for the time being, Shizuko headed toward the rice paddies to participate in the harvesting herself.

Five minutes later, however, her work would be interrupted by the arrival of a certain individual.

“First, allow me to commend you for your hard work. To think you managed to harvest such an impressive amount.”

“Thank you very much.”

Shizuko bowed deeply to Mori Yoshinari, who wore a warm smile on his face.

The visitors who had arrived at Shizuko’s village were none other than Mori Yoshinari and his guards.

Although his unexpected visit had taken her by surprise, she suspected that Nobunaga had once again come up with some unreasonable demand.

“Now then, the reason I have come here today is none other than to ask a favor of you, Shizuko-dono.”

“Yes, what might that be?”

And her suspicions proved correct.

“We are currently waging war against Mino. However, prolonging this campaign any further will prove difficult for our army as well.”

‘In this era, even an army of 10,000 would be considered defeated if it lost just 1,000 men.’

“…Y-yes. Um, and what does that have to do with me…?”

Shizuko timidly posed her question to Mori Yoshinari.

In truth, the state of the war had very little to do with her.

After all, Nobunaga had only ordered her to concern herself with agriculture.

He had said nothing about anything else, nor did Shizuko have any intention of presumptuously meddling in matters beyond her station.

It went without saying what awaited those who overstepped their bounds.

“What I wish to discuss is none other than what comes after the conquest of Mino.”

“After the conquest of Mino…?”

Hearing those words, Shizuko recalled what she knew of history.

The Battle of Inabayama Castle, in which Oda Nobunaga was said to have captured Inabayama Castle, the stronghold of Saito Tatsuoki.

With the fall of that castle, Oda Nobunaga was said to have brought Mino under his control.

The commonly accepted date of its fall was the fifteenth day of the eighth month of Eiroku 10 (1567), when the forces of Mino surrendered.

At that time, Saito Tatsuoki escaped by boat down the Nagara River, fleeing to Nagashima in Ise.

It was said that, from that point onward, the then twenty-year-old Tatsuoki would never again return to Mino as a daimyo.

Following his conquest of Mino, Oda Nobunaga fought a series of minor battles before marching upon the capital and installing a shogun.

That would happen in the ninth month of Eiroku 11 (1568), in other words, two years from now.

“Mino is a province belonging to the western lands. It is a province our lord is most eager to bring under his control. Once that has been accomplished, our lord intends to strengthen the foundations of his domain.”

‘Well, Mino and Owari together would amount to one million koku, after all. Naturally, our lord would want to get his hands on it.’

“To that end, our lord wishes for Shizuko-dono to take on a role in the administration of his domain.”

‘I guess it’s about improving food self-sufficiency again…’

“… … … … … … … … … … Pardon?”

Shizuko could scarcely believe her ears. Whatever the case might be in modern times, women in the Sengoku period had virtually no rights.

Naturally, they could hardly hope to participate in politics, and all important positions were occupied by men.

At the time, this was considered both inevitable and common sense.

“Um… I’m a woman, you know? I’ve never even heard of a woman getting involved in politics before!?”

“Of course, I could scarcely believe my own ears when I first heard it myself. However, it seems our lord has already made up his mind.”

“No, um… why?”

Even knowing how innovative Oda Nobunaga was, Shizuko still found this decision far too unconventional.

To begin with, women of that era were treated in such a manner that even the principal wives of famous daimyo often went unnamed in historical records.

There might have been instances of women serving as village heads due to particular circumstances, but she had scarcely heard of any becoming governing officials capable of influencing the policies of an entire province.

“Our lord holds Shizuko-dono’s accomplishments in very high regard.”

“Is that so? I don’t think I’ve done anything particularly remarkable enough to warrant such praise…”

“Fufufu, there is no need for modesty. Shizuko-dono, you have splendidly revived a village that was on the brink of death, and this year you have secured enough food to sustain its people through what can rightfully be called a bountiful harvest. That is no easy feat.”

“That’s only because the villagers worked so hard…”

“That may be true but I doubt any of it would have been possible without your abilities, Shizuko-dono.”

Being praised so unreservedly made Shizuko feel rather bashful.

“Hmm…This is merely my own conjecture but perhaps our lord wishes to secure your services before another province has the chance to take you away.”

“Y-yes… I am deeply honored.”

No matter how many accomplishments Shizuko achieved, they were ultimately confined to a single village.

Naturally, the possibility that Shizuko might be drawn away by more favorable terms elsewhere and leave Nobunaga’s service was not entirely out of the question.

Nobunaga had likely considered this possibility and decided to place a collar around her neck to ensure she would not slip from his grasp.

That was probably the reasoning behind his decision, Shizuko concluded.

“That reminds me, Shizuko-dono. Might I ask you something? There is something I have been curious about for some time. What are those bamboo-like plants growing in one corner of your fields?”

“Bamboo…? Ah, do you mean the sugarcane?”

“Sugarcane?”

Hearing the unfamiliar word, Mori Yoshinari tilted his head curiously.

“Ah, um… Well, you see. Could I have a moment? Just between us…”

Not wanting those around them to learn what sugarcane was just yet, Shizuko lowered her voice and approached Mori Yoshinari.

Yoshinari was slightly wary at first but once he realized Shizuko was making no suspicious movements, he relaxed somewhat.

“『I intend to report this to both our lord and you, Mori-sama, but… that plant is the raw material used to make sugar.』”

“『Sugar, you say!?』”

Yoshinari nearly cried out in surprise but managed to suppress his voice at the last moment.

Nevertheless, his eyes were wide open, making his astonishment plainly evident.

“『Well, seeing is believing. I have some sugarcane that I cut this morning to check its growth. Please chew on this stalk.』”

With that, she offered Yoshinari one of the two stalks she was holding.

Then, as though demonstrating that it was safe to consume, Shizuko bit into her own sugarcane stalk.

Still unable to conceal his astonishment, Yoshinari quietly took the sugarcane stalk and bit into its end.

“『…! It really is sweet… So this is what sugar is made from…!?』”

“『Yes. Well, at first glance, it looks like nothing more than an enormous susuki grass, so I suppose you wouldn’t think it was a crop being cultivated in the fields.』”

“『Indeed… That is certainly true. I myself thought it was bamboo until you told me otherwise.』”

“『Hmm, since we’re already talking about this, I suppose I might as well tell you. You see, regarding what can be made from the materials I’ve been asking you to collect since last year…』”

“『Hm…? Ah, you mean those materials?』”

Since the previous year, Shizuko had been asking Mori Yoshinari to regularly gather certain materials for her.

Although Yoshinari had been arranging their procurement, he had absolutely no idea what she intended to use them for.

He had therefore asked her several times but her answer was always the same《I can’t tell you yet because I don’t want enemy spies finding out.》

“『Well, you see. I’m still uncertain whether I can actually make it, so I cannot say for certain that it will succeed just yet, but…』”

Believing that he was finally about to learn the answer, Yoshinari found himself growing excited in a manner quite unbecoming of his age.

However, that excitement soon gave way to an entirely different emotion.

“『If it succeeds…those materials will become gunpowder.』”

****

“Have you finished discussing the matter with her?”

Having returned from Shizuko’s village to Nobunaga’s side, Mori Yoshinari immediately went to see Nobunaga to deliver his report.

Perhaps Nobunaga had anticipated his return, for he granted Yoshinari priority and had him ushered in to receive his report.

Thus, the very first thing he asked Yoshinari was whether he had finished discussing the matter.

“Yes, my lord! Although Shizuko-dono was somewhat surprised, she readily accepted the assignment.”

“I see. Well, appointing a woman to handle domestic administration is unprecedented, after all.”

“Indeed… However, now that I have come to know Shizuko-dono better, I understand why our lord holds her in such high regard.”

“Oh?”

Nobunaga chuckled with amusement and gestured with his chin for Yoshinari to continue.

Seeing this, Yoshinari signaled to someone nearby, who brought a certain item before Nobunaga.

“What is this…?”

It was a plate containing several slices of vegetables.

Two kinds of vegetables, daikon radish and turnip, had been neatly cut into semicircular slices.

“This is something Shizuko-dono made called 『nukazuke』. She warned me that excessive consumption should be avoided because of its high salt content, so I have brought only a few slices.”

“That woman never ceases to make the strangest things.”

With that, Nobunaga picked up his chopsticks and placed a slice of daikon into his mouth.

“Delicious. It has a rather pleasant crunch.”

“I had the opportunity to try some myself. Everything she prepares is unusual, yet invariably delicious.”

“To be frank, I was quite astonished by the first thing she served me as well.”

“And now I understand. The knowledge Shizuko-dono possesses is truly formidable. Indeed, if another province were to acquire that knowledge, it would pose a tremendous threat to us.”

“Indeed. Now then, how much rice did that woman harvest?”

“The figure may vary slightly, but I estimate the yield to be approximately 200 bales.”

“That easily surpasses the stipulated 25 bales. To think a village of merely 100 people could produce such a harvest. If I grant her authority and have her increase production even further, it will make planning my military campaigns considerably easier.”

Needless to say, rice production held tremendous significance during the Sengoku period.

It was measured in a unit known as kokudaka, with one koku representing the amount of rice consumed by a single person in one year.

By the middle of the Edo period, this was equivalent to approximately 150 kilograms in modern measurements.

During the Sengoku period, however, these figures were largely self-reported, so the exact values remain unknown and will likely remain so in the future.

Nevertheless, the importance of kokudaka remained unchanged throughout both the Sengoku and Edo periods.

“However, would it not be sufficient to leave matters as they are, without going so far as to entrust her with domestic administration?”

“That woman can be rather absentminded. I cannot afford to have her deceived by enemy spies and persuaded to defect. Besides, she is a softhearted person. The more people she has depending on her, the harder it becomes for her to leave them behind.”

“What do you mean by that…?”

In response to Mori Yoshinari’s question, Nobunaga set down his chopsticks, took a deep breath, and spoke.

“Many of the talents Shizuko possesses are indispensable to me. In that case, she could have simply disregarded my orders and entered the service of another provincial lord. Yet she chose not to. That is because she could not bring herself to abandon the villagers and flee.”

“Indeed, that is certainly true.”

“She cannot cast aside those who depend upon her. It is precisely because she is as softhearted as a child that I intend to grant her a certain degree of authority. By doing so, her knowledge will become mine, while at the same time preventing her from betraying me. However, we must not attempt to wring all her knowledge out of her too hastily. There is a possibility that Shizuko will catch on and flee.”

“She would likely suspect that once she had divulged all her knowledge, she would be disposed of.”

“Precisely. I still have plenty of work for her to do.”

With that, his conversation with Mori Yoshinari came to an end.

After dismissing him, Nobunaga let out a quiet sigh.

“Enrich the country and strengthen the military… huh?”

Nobunaga murmured the words Shizuko had once spoken to him.

‘That woman is beginning to distinguish herself far more than I ever imagined. For now, her talents lie in domestic administration, but sooner or later, I shall need to incorporate her Nanban knowledge into military affairs as well.’

To incorporate the knowledge of the Nanban into his army.

Nobunaga was already eagerly anticipating the day when that would come to pass.

[A Mangoku-style separator (known in Japanese as Mangoku-tooshi / 万石通し or 千石どおし) refers to a traditional Japanese gravity-fed agricultural sorting and grading device invented during the Edo period]

[Susuki grass (Miscanthus sinensis, or Japanese silver grass) is a tall, perennial plant that is a beloved symbol of autumn in Japan]

nukazuke=[(rice-bran pickles)]