A Time Traveller's Guide To Feudal Japan

Twenty hors.e.m.e.n came forward cautiously, bringing their horses towards the edge of the tree line, searching for a trap. Without stepping into the forest, they did not stand a chance of uncovering Gengyo’s men.

Gengyo rested his rifle on his stumped forearm, squinting his eye as he looked down the sight, waiting for the hooves to cross the line and enter the forest. One of the hors.e.m.e.n turned their heads back, looking for reassurance from Kenshin. The man nodded his head, motioning for them to go forward.

They proceeded more confidently, driving their horses into a slow trot.

The crackle of gunfire pierced the air. A single shot from Gengyo’s barrel. His men were disciplined and did not jump to unleash their rounds in a panicked frenzy. They hardly flinched, remaining motionless, as that leading man slumped in his saddle, his blood having spattered against his horse with a handsome exit hole filling the back of his head.

The horses spooked at the sounds of the shot and sought to flee. It took the soldiers a time to get them under control again. By then, they too had lost the conviction to follow their man to the grave.

Curious heads were turning throughout the entire Uesugi army and whispers broke out. They had never seen that mon of the snake. Was there an army hiding in there, or but a single man?

Kenshin turned to one of his generals and spoke an order. The general nodded in receipt and began to bark orders to the men. A further eighty or so soldiers came to join the initial exploration party.

"He’s calling our bluff. Prepare yourselves – make every bullet count," Gengyo said, slotting a bullet back into his rifle.

"If a man sees us, he can not be allowed to live," Jikouji reminded them.

"Relax old man. No one is surviving this," Rokkaku assured him. With the branches that he had brought down to cover himself, the large warrior was one with the ground, perfectly camouflaged. It would be impossible to locate him from their distance.

The party of a hundred cavalrymen drew their swords and two of them hefted up an Uesugi banner. They galloped at the tree line, roaring obscenities, lowering themselves into the saddle in a futile attempt at ducking.

The leaves of the outmost trees swished as the soldiers passed them. It must have been a signal, for a split second later, the sound of shots began to ring out.

A man took a bullet to his chest and blood flashed. He glanced nonchantly at his wound, opening his mouth to let loose a battle cry, revealing a row of bloodied teeth. His horse began to charge faster out of fear and though there were still several metres between him and Gengyo’s line of soldiers, it looked like he might make it.

That was, until, two separate bullets from two separate marksmen tore open chunks of his face and splattered brains onto his well-kept armour.

His fellow men faired no better. The sound of bullets did not stop for a single moment. Men and horses alike were filled with metal. They fell uselessly into the dirt, their corpses skidding as they kicked up dirt.

The men were far from being a bad shot. Not a single one of them misplaced a bullet, though some fell short of their marks and shattered hands rather than ribs, forcing bold warriors to drop their swords.

As soon as their shot left the barrel, they pulled back the hammer to line up another. The sound was deafening and their ears rung and the scent of charred gunpowder hung in the air. It was a sound they had grown used to though and not a single Uesugi soldier managed to reach them.

Only a handful of them still lived, groaning through their death rattles, or trapped on the floor under the immense weight of their horses. A few mercy shots ended their clamour and then the world went silent once more.

In truth, the men had not stood a chance. Their numbers were equal, but the massacre was entirely one-sided. Gengyo’s men did not even need to move onto their second rifle and they had treated the attack with a casual contempt, knowing that they only needed to kill but a single man each and the victory would be theirs.

The stench of defeat began to sink in for Kenshin as it became evident that his men would not be returning. He was forced to deal with the possibility that a force of a worthy number had set up its camp within that forest. They could number upwards of a thousand. It could even be more.

Kenshin was an ambitious man, but he was certainly no fool. His many battles with Takeda Shingen had taught him the value of patience. He had wanted to make a statement and begin his pillaging of the villages that very day, to lure the Takeda remnants in action. But that plan was foiled and he realized that he would be a fool to push it.

Rather than the forest, he was looking at the land around him, trying to make a decision as to what he might do next. The road was bordered by fields of grass and weeds and bushes that came up past the neck. Aside from that, it was largely open, to both them and the enemy.

Kenshin made his decision. They could not make camp here. "Burn it," he said to his generals.

Gengyo and his men slid fresh bullets in their rifles, loading them back to their maximum capacity, not knowing the problem that was about to come their way. They had their horses ready to leave at but a moments notice and with that came a confidence.

The Uesugi forces began to buzz into action as the supply carts were brought from the rear all the way to the front. Greenwood wrapped in cloth was plunged into the oil and set alight and the men set towards the forest.