He had already told them it was hopeless.

Dodo Tsunaie (堂洞綱家, Dodo Tsunaie) was not a young man in the autumn of 1600. He was somewhere in his early fifties — a veteran retainer who had served Oda Nobunaga (織田信長, Oda Nobunaga) himself, who had survived Nobunaga's death at Honnoji (本能寺, Honnoji) in 1582, and who had spent the intervening years in the orbit of a great name that was growing smaller every year. He was, in other words, a man who had watched history happen and learned from it. When he looked at the Eastern Army pouring westward in late September 1600, he saw what was coming with perfect clarity.

He told his lord, Oda Hidenobu (織田秀信, Oda Hidenobu): switch sides. Go to Ieyasu now, while your compliance is still worth rewarding.

Hidenobu was around 20 years old, the grandson of Nobunaga, the inheritor of Gifu Castle (岐阜城, Gifu-jō) and a storied name and very little else. He refused. He had aligned with the Western Army of Ishida Mitsunari (石田三成, Ishida Mitsunari) and he would not break faith now.

So Tsunaie picked up his weapons and marched out to fight a battle he knew he would lose.

The eastern vanguard — led by Ikeda Terumasa (池田輝政, Ikeda Terumasa) with roughly 18,000 troops from the north and Fukushima Masanori (福島正則, Fukushima Masanori) with another column from the south — crossed the Kiso River (木曽川, Kiso-gawa) on the morning of September 29. They came in a pincer from both directions, a move that split the western defenders and prevented them from concentrating their strength. Combined, the eastern vanguard numbered around 34,000 men.

At the village of Komeno (米野, Komeno), near present-day Kasamatsu in Gifu Prefecture, Tsunaie's force of roughly 2,500 to 3,000 men — deployed alongside Iinuma Nagasuke (飯沼長資, Iinuma Nagasuke) and Tsuda Tozaemon (津田藤左衛門, Tsuda Tōzaemon) — met the eastern 先鋒 (senpō), the vanguard. The battle was brief and one-sided. The western defenders were crushed and driven back toward the castle.

On September 30, Gifu Castle fell. Not after weeks of siege works and starvation — in a single day. The castle sat 330 meters above the city on the sheer face of Mount Kinka (金華山, Kinka-san), supposedly impregnable, and it was gone before the main eastern army — Ieyasu himself — had even stepped out of Edo Castle (江戸城, Edo-jō).

Inside the fallen castle, Oda Hidenobu prepared for seppuku (切腹, seppuku). He was the grandson of the man who had built the fortress. It seemed the appropriate ending. Ikeda Terumasa talked him out of it — Hidenobu's surrender and cooperation were worth more than the symbolism of his death. He lived until 1605, in obscurity.

News of Gifu's fall reached Mitsunari's commanders at Ogaki Castle (大垣城, Ogaki-jō) like a cold wind through the ranks. Their outer defenses were collapsing faster than any plan could account for. Daimyo who had been quietly reconsidering their loyalties began reconsidering more quickly.

As for Dodo Tsunaie: he survived the battle and was placed under house arrest in Kyoto. The man who had been right about everything, who had tried to talk his lord out of a losing cause and then fought that losing cause loyally anyway — that man Ieyasu found interesting. Years later, Tsunaie was released and entered the service of Yamauchi Kazutoyo (山内一豊, Yamauchi Kazutoyo). He went on to build Kochi Castle (高知城, Kochi-jō) in Shikoku (四国, Shikoku). He died in 1609 at peace, having outlived the world he once served.

The man who had been right about everything did not get to be right loudly. But he got to live — which was more than the castle he had defended.