"The castle will fall if we throw everything we've got at them." Thus spoke Kawajiri, one of the generals of the attacking troops, who had gone to see Nobutada.

"We've had too many dead and wounded," Nobutada said; he had been reflecting on the matter himself. "Do you have any good ideas?"

"It seems to me that the strength of the soldiers in the castle is dependent on their be­lief that Katsuyori is still in his new capital. With that in mind, we might withdraw from this field of action for the time being and attack Kofu and Nirasaki instead. That, how­ever, would require a complete change in strategy. It would be better, perhaps, to convince the defenders of the castle that Nirasaki has fallen and that Katsuyori is dead." Nobutada nodded his agreement. On the morning of the first day of the Third Month, another message was tied to an arrow and shot into the castle.

Upon reading it, Nobumori laughed. "This letter is such a transparent deception that a child might have written it. It shows how disheartened the enemy has become with the siege."

The message read read as follows:

On the twenty-eighth day of the last month, Kai fell and Lord Katsuyori committed suicide. The other members of the clan either committed suicide with him or were taken prisoner. It is meaningless for this castle to continue to demonstrate its martial valor, for it is nothing more than a single fortress in a conquered domain. You should surrender the castle immediately and put your efforts into the relief of the province.

Oda Nobutada

"How sweet. Do they really think a transparent little trick like this is the art of war?" That night, Nobumori held a drinking party and showed the letter to his retainers. "If this moves anyone here, he can leave the castle without hesitation before dawn."

They beat the drum, intoned chants from Noh plays, and passed the evening happily. That night, the wives of all the generals were also called and offered a round of sake. Everyone quickly realized what Nobumori's intentions were. On the following morning, just as everyone had expected, he picked up a large halberd to use as a staff, fastened a straw sandal to his swollen left foot—injured in the battle for the castle—and hobbled over to the castle gate.

He summoned the defenders to assemble, climbed up inside the roofed gate tower, and surveyed his forces. He had less than a thousand soldiers, excluding the very young, old men, and the women, but there was not one fewer than the night before. He bowed his head for a while, as if in silent prayer. In fact, he was praying to the soul of his father, Shingen: Look! We still have such men in Kai. Finally he looked up. He could see his entire army from where he was.

He did not have his brother's full face and broad features. As he had contented himself for a long time with the simplicity of country life, he knew nothing of extrava­gant food or luxury. He had been endowed with looks like those of a young hawk brought up on the whistling winds that blew over the mountains and plains of Kai. At the age of thirty-three, he resembled his father, Shingen: thick hair, bushy brows, and a wide mouth.

"Well, I thought it was going to rain today, but it's cleared up nicely. With the cherry blossoms on the distant mountains, the season is giving us a beautiful day to die. We're certainly not going to throw away our reputations, hoping for the promise of material reward. As you have seen, I was wounded in the fighting two days ago. Because my mobility is so limited, I'm going to watch each of you fight your last battle as I wait here calmly for the enemy. Then I can finish it up by fighting to my heart's content. So go out! Force your way through the gates at both the front and the rear, and bravely show them how the mountain cherry blossoms fall!"

The responding shouts of the fierce warriors, proclaiming that they would do exactly as he commanded, were like a whirlwind. All of them looked up at the figure of their lord atop the entrance gate, and for a while the same proclamation was heard over and over: "This is our farewell."

It was not a question of living or dying. It was an desperate rush toward death. The front and rear gates of the castle were defiantly pushed wide open by the men inside, and a thousand warriors rushed out, war cries rising from their throats.

The besieging troops were routed. For a moment the confusion was such that even Nobutada's headquarters were threatened.

"Fall back! Regroup!" The commander of the castle forces watched for the proper moment, and called for a retreat into the castle.

"Fall back! Fall back!"

The men turned back toward the castle, each warrior displaying to Nobumori, who was still seated up in the roofed castle gate, the heads he had taken.

"I will come in and drink, then go out again," one of the warriors shouted. And so it went on. Resting for a moment at either the front or the back gate, then dashing back out and cutting through the enemy—the men repeated this pattern of violent attack and re­treat six times until four hundred thirty-seven heads had been taken. As the day came to a close, the numbers of the defenders were reduced conspicuously, and those who re­mained were covered with wounds. Almost no one was uninjured. Flames shot up with a roar from the burning trees around the castle. The enemy had already been flowing into the fortress from every direction. Nobumori unblinkingly watched the final moments of each of his warriors from the top of the gate.

"My lord! My lord! Where are you?" a retainer called out as he ran around at the bot­tom of the gate.

"I'm up here," Nobumori called, letting his retainer know he was alive and well. "My final hour is near. Let me see where you are." And he looked down from his seat. The retainer looked up through the smoke at the figure of his master.

"Nearly all the men have been killed. Have you made preparations for suicide, my lord?" he asked, panting for breath.

"Come up here to assist me."

"Yes, my lord." The man staggered around to the stairway inside the gate, but he never made it up to the balcony. Thick flames lapped at the entrance to the stairway Nobumori pushed in the shutters of another window and peered down. The only soldier: he could see beneath him belonged to the enemy. Then he saw one person fighting hard in the middle of a huge crowd of enemy soldiers. Amazingly, it was a woman, the wife of one of his retainers, and she was brandishing a halberd.

Even though Nobumori was about to die, he struggled to accept the unexpected emotion in which he was suddenly enveloped.

That woman is so shy she usually can't even speak in front of men, much less hold a halberd up to them, he thought. But now he was pressed by something he had to do, and he shouted out to the enemy from the narrow window by which he stood.

"All you men fighting for Nobunaga and Nobutada! Listen to the voice of the Void. Nobunaga is taking pride right now in his one moment of triumph, but every cherry blossom falls and every ruler's castle will burn. I'm going to show you something now that won't fall or burn for all eternity. I, Shingen's fifth son, Nobumori, am going to show you!"

When the Oda soldiers were finally able to climb up, they found a corpse with it stomach cut open in the pattern of a cross. But the head was no longer there. Then, an instant later, the spring night sky was enveloped by red and black pillars of flame and smoke.

The confusion at Nirasaki Castle in the new capital was as great as if people were proclaiming the end of the world.

"Takato Castle has fallen and everyone, including your brother, has been killed."

As he listened to his retainer, Katsuyori seemed completely unmoved. Still, his expression showed that he clearly perceived that his own strength was no longer sufficient The next report came in.