A Time Traveller's Guide To Feudal Japan

When dawn came, the army was ready for battle. An army armed with nought but rifles and swords – they no longer had need of spears. Any cavalry charge would be disrupted adequately by their barrage of bullets.

It was a cloudless sky that greeted them that day. The air was dry and warm. It would be a sweat ridden battle.

Morale was high as the men shared jests, falling into formation. For a number of them, it was their first battle, but the self assured aura of the veteran men and the generals that led them had a calming effect and their nervousness did not win out.

A horse came galloping in as the last of their tents were felled. Gengyo noted the scout and trailed off in his conversation with Jikouji, waiting for the man to pull up and speak his part.

"They are only beginning to stir now, my Lord. Their morale is low and Kenshin is nowhere to be seen," the scout told him.

"Guh, is that to say that this will just be us butchering them? Where’s the fun if there’s no resistance?" Morohira complained, overhearing him.

"Overconfidence could cause problems in itself. I do not think Kenshin will disappoint us," Gengyo said, feeling for the rapier that he had sheathed on his hip, almost nervous. He had practised in the quiet with the new blade and he knew his skill to be adequate, but with the loss of a hand, he could not charge forth with the same confidence that he’d had before. "You have done well. Go and see the cooks – they’ve saved food for you."

"Thank you, my Lord," the scout said, driving his horse away.

"Be careful, Tadakata," Akiko said quietly once the scout was out of earshot. Her eyes were pointed towards the stump where his hand used to be and her point was obvious.

He gave her a warm smile. "It is me that should be saying that to you. My child is in your stomach. A battlefield is not the place for you now," he told her, knowing full well how she would reply. They had spoken much the same conversation just the night before.

"If it is a boy, then a baptism on the battlefield will make him stronger. He will grow to be even stronger than his father," Akiko said. "And if it is a girl, it will be just the same. She will be as fierce as Rin."

"Auntie Rin," Rin corrected. "No pup is going to overtake me though. Not without three lifetimes of training."

"Three weeks training," Gengyo corrected. "That is my child you are talking about."

"Heh, already boasting about your kid, are you boss?" Rokkaku laughed. "I’ve got three boys, I can tell you it’s not as exciting as it seems. The oldest is uh... ten? Or was it nine? Anyway, they’re quite on the lazy side. Don’t really do much. Can’t even handle a drink with their old man. Boring, I’d say."

Gengyo blinked back at him, dumbfounded, and the rest of them fell into an uncertain silence. "Rokkaku... you were trying to get your kids drunk on sake?" Gengyo asked hesitantly.

"Yeah, why? What are you all looking at? There’s nothing strange about it. My old man had me on the rice wine ever since I started talking," Rokkaku stated defensively.

"That explains a lot," Rin put in.

"Agreed," Akiko seconded.

"...Shall I rally the men before Rokkaku says something else?" Jikouji asked, looking like he wanted to forget everything that had been said in the past two minutes.

"The honour is yours," Gengyo told him. With a nod of his head, Jikouji began riding out to the side of the column.

"Alright you little bastards! We’ve got a short march ahead of us and if any of you start falling behind and you feel something up your arse, that’ll be my boot! By the front, quuickkkkkkk march!" Jikouji shouted enthusiastically and the men at the front stepped out together, entirely coordinated and began a swift march down the road.

"I thought your boots were looking a little bit dirty today, Jikouji. And it’s no wonder, with you going around kicking people up the arse," Rokkaku said once he had returned.

"Miura, if you pair me with Rokkaku today, I cannot promise that I won’t kill him," Jikouji said solemnly.

"A risk I’m willing take," Gengyo responded with a smile. The strap of his helmet had been tied tightly under his chin, to the point where it was uncomfortable. He used the few fingers he had to loosen it, allowing the straps to hang unrestrained. His forehead was already coated in sweat and with the heavy armour on his back and chest, he was thoroughly uncomfortable. "I hope this battle is quick," he said looking up at the orange sun doubtfully.

"I’ll do my best," Morohira said, "but there’s only so much one man can do. Maybe if you lot finally pitch in and do some work, we might just finish it a little bit faster."

"The two of you today..." Rin began, exasperated. "Can you not choose another time to be idiots? You shouldn’t even be here, dad, what about your stitches?"

���Healed," Morohira replied gruffly.

"That’s just not possible," Rin said, shaking her head.

"But it’s healed," Morohira said again, unwilling to concede the point.

Their light conversation continued as the road began to widen, enough for four carts to be pulled together side by side. A stream flowed gently nearby, it’s cold waters drawing many tempting eyes from the marching column as they imagined the satisfaction of cooling themselves inside it.

With a whole army at their backs, it took Gengyo far longer to reach the Uesugi encampment than it did just the day before. The sun was at its highest point when they rounded a familiar bend in the road and hit upon the charred remains of the forest. The Uesugi army had begun their own march, but their banners were visible on the horizon.