TAIKO: AN EPIC NOVEL OF WAR AND GLORY IN FEUDAL JAPAN

deserted him and as if that weren't enough, had not only given up his castle at Ejiri to the enemy but had been engaged to guide Tokugawa Ieyasu. He was now said to be in the vanguard of the troops invading Kai.

So his own brother-in-law had openly betrayed him and was even trying to destroy him. With this knowledge, he was now forced to reflect a little on himself in the midst of his agony. Where have I gone wrong? he asked himself. While on the one hand he had made his indomitable spirit more and more unyielding and had ordered more defenses everywhere, when he received Kaisen at his new castle he displayed a willingness to engage in self-examination that was, for him, quite a gentle attitude. The change was prob­ably too late.

'It has been just ten years since my father passed away, and eight years have gone by since the battle of Nagashino. Why have the generals of Kai so suddenly lost fidelity to their principles?' Katsuyori asked the priest.

Kaisen, however, sat facing him in silence, and Katsuyori continued, 'Ten years ago, our generals weren't like this. Each of them had a sense of shame and was careful of his own reputation. When my father was still in this world, men rarely betrayed their lord, much less left their own clan.'

Kaisen sat silently with his eyes closed. In comparison with the priest, who seemed like cold ashes, Katsuyori talked on like a wildfire.

'But even the men who were poised and ready to strike down the traitors have all scattered without having engaged in a single battle or waited for their lord's command. Is

This behavior worthy of the Takeda clan and its generals—who would not even allow the great Uesugi Kenshin to take one step into Kai. How can there be such deterioration of discipline? How degraded can they be? Many of the generals under my father, like Baba, Yamagata, Oyamada, and Amakasu either are old or have passed away. The ones that re­main are completely different people: they're either the children of those generals or warriors who were not directly connected with my father.'

Kaisen still said nothing. The monk had been more intimate with Shingen than had anyone else, and he must have been over seventy years old. From beneath his snowlike brow, he had observed Shingen's heir very carefully.

'Venerable teacher, you may think it's too late because things have already come to

This pass, but if my way of administering the government has been remiss, please show

me how. If my command of military discipline has not been correct, give me some strict way of enforcement. I'm anxious to correct myself. I have heard that you were taught a great deal by my father, who was your friend in the Way. Could you not teach some good strategies to his unworthy son as well? Please don't be stingy with what you have to teach.  Consider me as Shingen's son. Please tell me, without reserve, what I've done wrong and how I can correct myself by doing things this way or that. Well then, let me say it. Have I offended the people after my father passed away by suddenly raising the tariffs at river crossings and barriers in order to strengthen the province's defenses?'

'No,' Kaisen said, shaking his head.

Katsuyori became even more agitated.

'Then there must have been some failing in rewards and punishments.'

'None at all.' The old man shook his snowy brow once again.

Katsuyori prostrated himself and was on the verge of tears. In front of Kaisen, the fierce warlord who had so much self-esteem could only cry in agony.

'Don't cry, Katsuyori,' Kaisen finally said. 'You are certainly not unworthy, and neither are you an unworthy son. Your only error has been lack of awareness. It is a cruel age that has made you stand face to face with Oda Nobunaga. You are not his enemy, after all. The mountains of Kai are far away from the center, and Nobunaga has the advantage of geography, but that is not a great cause of your problem, either. Although Nobunaga has fought battle after battle and has administered the government, in his heart he has never forgotten the Emperor. The construction of the Imperial Palace is just a single instance of all the things he has done.'

Kaisen and Shingen had had a deep understanding of the heart, and Shingen's rever­ence for the old abbot had been extraordinarily deep. But Kaisen had also believed strongly in Shingen—he was a dragon among men; a mythical fiery horse from the heav­ens. But while he praised Shingen so highly, he never compared him with his son, Katsu­yori, or considered the latter to be unworthy by contrast.

On the contrary, he viewed Katsuyori with sympathy. If someone criticized Katsuyori's mistakes, Kaisen always responded that it was unreasonable to expect more; his fa­ther had simply been too great a man. Kaisen did, perhaps, feel one small dissatisfaction: certainly if Shingen had lived on until now, his influence would not have been restricted to the province of Kai; he would have put his great ability and genius to work on some­thing of greater significance. And now Kaisen regretted that Shingen had not survived. The man who had perceived something of greater significance was Nobunaga. It was he who had broadened the provincial role of the samurai to one of national importance. And it was Nobunaga who had even showed himself to be a model retainer. Kaisen's ex­pectations for Katsuyori, who did not have the character of his father, had absolutely dis­appeared. The abbot clearly perceived that the long civil war was over.

So, to help Katsuyori force the troops of the Oda to kneel to him, or to plan some safe solution was impossible. The Takeda clan had been founded centuries before, and Shingen's name had shone too brightly in the sky: Katsuyori was not going to beg for ca­pitulation at Nobunaga's feet.

Takeda Katsuyori had a strong will and knew a sense of shame. Among the common people of the province, there were voices saying that the government had declined since the time of Shingen, and the levying of heavy taxes was perceived as a major cause of the complaints. But Kaisen knew that Katsuyori had not levied taxes for his own luxury or pride. Every tax had been directed toward military expenditure. In the last few years, military tactics and technology had been progressing in rapid strides in the capital and even in the neighboring provinces. But Katsuyori could not afford to spend as much money on new weapons as his rivals.

'Please take care of yourself,' Kaisen told Katsuyori as he prepared to leave.

'Are you going back to the temple already?' There were still many questions Katsuyori wanted to ask, but he knew that the answers to whatever he asked would be the same. He pressed his palms to the floor in reverence. 'This is, perhaps, the last time I will see you.'

Kaisen put his hands, draped with a string of prayer beads, to the floor and left without another word.

The Fall of the Takeda

'Let's spend this spring in the Kai mountains,' Nobunaga said as he rode out of Azuchi at the head of his army. 'We can view the cherry blossoms, pick flowers, and then sightsee around Mount Fuji on the coast on our way back.'

The success of the expedition against Kai seemed assured this time, and the army’s departure was almost leisurely. By the tenth day of the Second Month, the army had reached Shinano and had completed the disposition of men at the entrances to Ina, Kiso, and Hida. The Hojo clan would enter from the east, while the Tokugawa would attack from Suruga.

In comparison with the battles of the Ane River and Nagashino, Nobunaga was invading Kai as serenely as he might have gone out to pick vegetables from a garden. In the middle of the enemy province were forces that were no longer considered to be enemies at all. Both Naegi Kyubei of Naegi Castle and Kiso Yoshimasa of Fukushima were men who were eagerly waiting for Nobunaga's arrival, not Katsuyori's; and the troops that marched from Gifu into Iwamura did so without encountering any resistance. The various fortresses of the Takeda had been abandoned to the wind. When night turned to dawn, both Matsuo Castle and the castle at Iida were nothing but empty shells.

'We have advanced to Ina and found barely an enemy soldier to defend it.'

That was the report Nobunaga received at the entrance to Kiso. There the soldiers also joked among themselves that their advance was almost too easy to be satisfying. What had made the Takeda so fragile? The cause was complicated, but the answer could be put into simple terms. This time the Takeda would not be able to preserve Kai.

Everyone associated with the Takeda clan was convinced of its inevitable defeat. Some, perhaps, had even been disposed to look forward to this day. Traditionally, however, samurai—of no matter what clan—did not