The Rise and Fall of Takeda Nobushige

The Rise and Fall of Takeda Nobushige

Takeda Nobushige sighed as he looked over the enemy forces approaching his position. It had been a long journey here, for both him and his clan, and for possibly the hundredth time he wondered how it had come to this. He had been there from the very start, back when all they had was Kai province and barely a herd of warhorses to rely on. His thoughts strayed to Takeda Shingen and the mere thought of his name made Nobushiga clench his fists and grit his teeth.

If only he had been born first, not his brother. Barely four years separated them but that particular twist of fate made Nobushige bitter all the same. Even as children he had shown himself to be better. A stronger warrior, a quicker runner, a smarter scholar, and more recently a far superior poet to his oh-so-glorious brother. Though their birth decided their station, even his brother had realised that Nobushige would be far better suited to lead his clan to glory. Back in Kai province it had been Nobushige, not Shingen who led his forces to victory over the forces of the Murakami clan and scored the first of the Takeda's many victories. It had been him, not his brother who laid siege and conquered north Shinano, wiped out the Murakami clan so they lived only in song and story.

Back in those early months he had barely a handful of units at his command. North Shinano had been taken by less than four hundred men, and to Nobushige's credit more than three hundred lived to claim the fort. Now he headed the largest and most powerful army the Takeda had ever fielded, nearly two thousand warriors, more than half of them battle hardened Samurai. He looked over the units at his command, picking out the few who had served under him since the beginning. Fewer than three hundred, and most of them ashigaru. They were different men than the half-trained farmers his brother had conscripted. Hard fighting and harsh discipline had shaped and beaten them into a matchless force of great warriors. They proudly flew the pennants of Kai province still, though not a single one of them had set foot inside it in years.

The clan was strong now, stronger than it had ever been. From their humble beginnings the Takeda had become a force to be feared, the Murakami, the Anegakoji, The Yamanouchi, the Uesugi who had struck down the middle brother Nobukado, all had fallen to dust before his armies.. It had been him, not his brother who held the fort for three days of siege in the pouring rain against the Yamanouchi before leading his forces to glorious victory and breaking their armies strength, a blow they never recovered from. Then that same spring, with his men weary and wounded he had held the same fort against the Uesugi army three times the size of his own. It had been his decision, not his brothers, to stand firm inside the walls and let over a thousand Uesugi men break against them like waves against a dam. He had personally beheaded the Daimyo of the Uesugi at the end of the battle in revenge for the death of Nobukado, the middle brother who had been foolishly caught on the road with scarcely more than a hundred men at his side.

All this reminiscing made Nobushige weary, all the more for the decision he would have to make. with his army unstoppable and his brother safely tucked away in Kai, he had pursued the Uesegi to their home province of Echigo, and there he had wiped all trace of their clan from the earth. Never again would they claim either clan or land, the last vestiges of their armies were reduced to little more than brigands, and it was scarcely a month before they too had been ground to dust beneath the heels of his warhorse.

While he was taking his men further than the Takeda could have even imagined they would travel, his esteemed brother had picked up a stray warrior and sent him west against the Ikko Ikki clan. The battles had been simple and victorious, but the clans heretical beliefs proved to be far more of a problem then there armies ever were, and while his brother devoted his time to re-instating the ways of Shinto, the Satomi clan attacked the Hojo clan. While neither clan mattered in the slightest to Nobushige, his brother had made treaties with the Hojo that demanded they join the conflict, despite never having even heard of the Satomi.

Shingen had negotiated passage through Satake lands, at great expense, so he, the great Takeda Nobushige, could bring the most powerful army east of Kyoto against a clan he had never even heard of! It would be amusing if it weren't so believable. The shame of it, spending most of the clans coin, coin earned by Nobushige's victories, on bribing a rival for passage so that he could waste the best men he had ever commanded against a foe they didn't even know! Takeda Nobushige shook himself free of his reverie with a visible shudder and summoned his newly-acquired battlefield messenger. If he were to do this, he would do it right. His brother would remember this battle for years to come.

The enemy came into view at last, the forces of Satomi Yoshitaka outnumbered his by nearly a third, but that didn't worry Nobushige in the slightest. Their army was mostly ashigaru, and barely trained at that, while his was mostly samurai and battle hardened to say the least. The armies met north of Fukushima on a windswept plain. His forces drew up quickly and with precision, they had many years of practice after all. While the enemy army slowly made its way into position Nobushiga looked over his men one last time. He could count on almost all of them, all those he had recruited personally and most of the others. Some his oh-so-glorious brother, who had never even commanded a battle, had recruited but they would be little bother.

The armies finished positioning and the moment approached. The sky stayed clear, for once the weather was with him. He had never expected it to come to this, but what choice was he left with? He raised his hand to signal the battle to commence, and paused. It was the only way. His arm dropped and fully two thirds of his army marched forward toward the Satomi forces. Only four units stood firm, confused by the actions of the others. Nobushige himself spurred his horse forward as they approached the enemies position, and gave the signal.

All but those four units, standing confused, followed his command and stopped. He signalled again and they turned around as one, and dropped the flags of Takeda. Two thirds of the greatest army east of Kyoto abandoned their clan and joined the Satomi, leaving just four units to stand against an army that now numbered almost four thousand. Nobushige, now Satomi Nobushige, smiled as they fled the field. This would be a battle his brother would remember for years.