A Time Traveller's Guide To Feudal Japan

There was an obvious question in the air now, for both old soldiers and new. They all knew of and deeply respected the military capabilities of Matsudaira Motoyasu, but it was not him who they had expected to serve. They had travelled here fuelled by the stories of glory and the victories achieved by Miura Tadakata. It was that invincible man that they expected to fight for. His novel strategies would surely be what they needed to grasp victory, despite the odds against him.

Instead, he pushed all responsibility onto his newest general. Why was that? Did he not believe in their chances of victory? Was this some attempt to preserve his reputation whilst incurring a loss? Was he about to flee and go elsewhere, having them fight in his name, sitting in a house in the mountains, safe from it all? In their blank hearts, there was written a new displeasure. They did not want to fight for a coward.

Matsudaira was looking up at him as well. Thousands of doubtful eyes displeased with his controversial decision. They demanded an explanation.

"As for me..." He paused, patting his gloved fingers against the armour of his forearm. That same calm stillness that they were used to. A droplet of water running down a leaf, something that could not be rushed. And then a sudden movement. An explosion of action, and passion. Violence, and bloodl.u.s.t. A powerful voice swept across the plains, enforced by a sudden gust of strong wind. Blades of grass were flattened against.

"I WILL FIGHT!" He roared. "DO NOT RUSH TO CLAIM THE CENTRE, FOR THAT IS WHERE I WILL MAKE MY STAND! THE RIVER THEY CALL THE TAKEDA WILL FLOW TOWARDS US, LOOKING FOR SOFT SANDS THAT THEY CAN PLOUGH THROUGH TO CLAIM MY HEAD. INSTEAD, THEY WILL FIND AN IMMOVEABLE BOULDER! NO MATTER HOW MANY DAYS IT TAKES, I WILL WIELD MY WEAPON, UNTIL THERE IS NOT A DROP OF BLOOD LEFT IN MY BODY, UNTIL THERE IS NOT A SINGLE TAKEDA SOLDIER STANDING! WHO IS WITH ME?"

The fierce spark ignites the blaze. All tiredness was forgotten. This was why they came. This passion. This confidence. They hefted their heavy yari up towards the sky, letting loose a primal roar, challenging even the God’s themselves.

"AWOOOOOOO!"

Beneath the chaos of screams, his eyes wandered back to the three old men, and he caught sight of the slightest of nods as they looked back towards him. An unspoken approval. They unsheathed their swords to join his, raising them high in the sky. There would go forth an army united. Matsudaira had watched the exchange, and a smile possessed his own face. His heart was filled with gratefulness. The two sides that he owed his loyalty to had become one and any worries that he had were relieved.

...

...

The soldiers went about making their camp for the evening. They were exhausted, and the prospect of rest was an enticing one. Already scouts had spotted the marching flags of the Takeda army, and felt the presence of their heavy calavry with the hooves that sent vibrations through the earth. The battle would be had in the morning.

An agreement was between the two great men, one that did not need to be spoken. There would be no antics during the night. They wanted to test each other on the field. For that purpose, Gengyo had gathered his generals and a few of his hundred man commanders.

Their tent was yet to be erected, but none of them were strangers to the filth. They sat upon low stools, as the first droplets of rain fell down, moistening the earth.

"What are we waiting for?" Rin asked impatiently, feeling the cold rain soaking into her clothes.

"Not what, but who. They shouldn’t be much longer." Gengyo said calmly, attempting to get the damp kindling they’d built up to catch a spark.

"My Lord, there are servants to do that, you needn’t trouble yourself." It was uncomfortable for Matsudaira to see a man of such standing lower himself into the dirt whilst he sat on his seat, doing nothing.

"There are, but I quite like lighting it."

"It would be better for you, Motoyasu-kun, if you cease to attempt to treat him as you would a normal Lord." Jikouji explained, placing a hand on his shoulder, as though it was the most natural thing in the world. Inside though, he was delighted that he could hold company with a general that he’d heard of for most of his a.d.u.l.t life. It was a peculiar feeling, and he attempted to see just how much he could use his age as leverage.

"Please show more respect when interacting with our young head." A croaky voice whispered by his ear, causing him to jump.

"Who the hell—Oh..."

"So, you’ve arrived. We’ve set aside three seats for you. Please join us." Without looking up, Gengyo was able to guess who it was that had joined them. "Ah, there it is." Finally the kindling caught, and the dry grass roared to life, a powerful flame burning rapidly through it. He began to set on bundles of small sticks, nurturing the flame so that it might grow even stronger. He sat back on his seat, holding his hands towards it, content that he had done his part for the time being.

"We have, Miura-dono." The three of them bowed as one, before doing as he bid, and assuming their seats.

Up close, it became obvious just how old they were. Even opposite Jikouji, they were visibly older a good deal older. Their hair had grown white and wispy, and their faces thin and leathery. Never mind the battle, they did not look they would survive the night.

"That was quite the impressive speech earlier, and must I say, it was a very sensible decision to leave young Motoyasu in charge of your strategy. He has quite flair for it." One of the elders praised, slowly bringing his seat further forward so that he might be closer to the fire.

"Very wise indeed." Another echoed.

"Our young Lord has chosen a good master this time." Said the third.

"Oh?" Gengyo looked up, tapping a dry stick against his palm, surprised by the sudden influx of praise.