Free Ninja by John Man Page A

warfare that some wishful thinkers, of which there are many in the world of martial arts, credit him with setting up his own martial arts “school” ( ryu ). His opponents, the shogun’s generals, were faced with the need to take four great mountain castles, the first shielding the emperor, the others his partisan defenders, including the great Kusunoki himself.
    It is autumn 1331. The emperor is holed up in a mountain-top castle on Mount Kasagi, a holy place of wooden palisades and towers set about with massive boulders that have images of Buddha carved into them (the Taiheiki mentions the boulders but not the Buddha images, which remain to this day). The shogun’s forces, seventy-five thousand of them, are preparing an assault. The numbers are arbitrary; they grow with each new chapter, adding a steady crescendo to the drama, for the Taiheiki at its best tells a tale in the style of epics from Homer to Hollywood, in which every feature and action is larger than life, with a wealth of detail, some realistic, some poetic, all designed to make the events appeal to the imaginations of an openmouthed audience.
    The peak is covered in cloud, and mossy crags drop away below for a myriad fathoms. The winding approach path is walled with immense boulders. It is no easy climb, even without a single defender. The attackers yell their battle cries, as loud as a hundred thousand thunderclaps, and fire humming arrows announce the assault. Yet from the castle, not a sound, not an arrow. Perhaps it has been abandoned. The shogun’s forces climb, and see the emperor’s banner flapping over the walls. His men are ready, three thousand archers moistening their bowstrings and lining the wooden walls like clouds. The battle that follows is fierce enough to knock the earth off its axis. A giant monk tosses boulders from the walls to smash shields below. Valleys fill with dead and the river below runs red with blood, but the castle holds out. Then news comes of other bases falling to the rebels. It seems the imperial army must withdraw to face them.
    No! Two samurai, Suyama and Komiyama, urge a covert operation. Too many have fallen uselessly, they say, their names forgotten because they died without doing great deeds. “How much the more glorious if by our strength alone we bring down this castle. . . . Our fame will be unequalled for all time; our loyalty will stand above that of a myriad men. Come! Under cover of this night’s rain and wind, let us secretly enter the castle precincts.” 4
    So in pitch darkness and foul weather they and fifty volunteers make knots in a rope tied to a grapnel, which they use to clamber over branches and boulders and then to scale the cliff that leads to the castle’s northern rampart, where even a bird could not fly easily. Halfway up, they are stopped by a mossy overhang. Suyama blazes a trail upward, carrying the rope, which he loops over a branch, allowing the squad to climb safely to the top. After that, the castle wall is no obstacle at all, for the defenders thought the cliffs unclimbable and “no warriors watched there, but only two or three soldiers of low degree,” who had fallen asleep on their straw mats beside their campfire.
    â€œThen in stealth they spied upon the castle’s interior by following a sentry making his rounds,” noting the numbers and positions of the defenders. Suyama and Komiyama decide to pinpoint the emperor. A guard accosts them from the shadows, but Suyama has a quick answer: “We are warriors of Yamato, guarding against attackers slipping in by night, for the wind and rain are violent, and there is much noise.”
    â€œTo be sure,” comes the voice from the darkness, and they hear no more. So they proceed, boldly pretending to be guards, shouting, “All positions be on the alert!” They find the main hall, where candles burn and a bell rings faintly. Three or four retainers, capped and robed, ask