A Time Traveller's Guide To Feudal Japan

Chapter 72 - The March

They were awoken early - a little before dawn. The march to Washizu was a long one, but travelling great distances was not something they were unused to and so none of the Special Forces unit complained.

He had spent the previous evening saying his farewells to Akiko, and to Rin, and to his mother – who had awoken a few days prior. Their parting was not as sad as it might have been, for each of them held a degree of faith in the young man.

As a retainer, Gengyo was allowed to ride. He did so just behind the carts drawn by the oxen which held their supplies. He shared idle conversation with the men as they watched the sun come up, and stifled yawns. They were in good spirits, and were eager to do battle.

It was an interesting contrast from the main unit, who were made up of the guards and peasants who had survived the battle with the mercenaries, and all the new members that had joined them. The veteran men did not look too out of sorts, but the new members beside them were quiet. Far too quiet. Inside their chests burned the first embers of a smoky fear that would threaten to suffocate them.

He took note of their behaviour, as did Nakatane, both thinking the same thought.

’They must be blooded, and quickly.’

If they did not receive any combat experience before one of the larger battles that were bound to happen, then they would simply flee, the stresses would be far too much for them.

Nakatane dropped back to trot alongside him.

"Still hold the same opinion about our war with the Oda?"

He asked, recalling the boy’s less than optimistic response when they had first met.

"Mm... I have faith in my men."

He said carefully, not willing to say anything otherwise. They were about to serve under a man who – historically speaking – had lost a battle in which he held the absolute advantage. He had 25,000 men, and was beaten by a mere 2500. He did not hold much faith in the man’s leadership.

But for now, he was calm, and would go along with the flow of history.

"What a boring answer. I, myself, am looking forward to it. It will be nice to go on the warpath without having to worry about defending ourselves."

"It will certainly make a change. And this time the odds are not stacked so highly against us."

He had other thoughts on his mind, however. He knew Imagawa’s true ambition as he set out on this march. His target was the capital: Kyoto. With his 25,000 men, he planned to plough through all the provinces that stood in his way.

Oh, how he would have lamented if he had been told he would fail at the very first hurdle, and to a mere 2500 men.

Their forces had been divided up into two armies, roughly equal in size. The first army, would be led by Imagawa himself, and their target was the border fortress of Washizu. Whilst the second was led by one of his retainers: Matsudaira Motoyasu.

"That’s right, eh. I’m keen to see how your unit will perform. How were you training them?"

"Mainly in endurance. I do not wish for them to tire in battle."

He responded evenly, not giving too much away. He wished to surprise Nakatane, so that he might enjoy the experience more fully.

On the road they met with other samurai from other villages. They brought men either equal or superior to theirs in number. The landholder samurai from the various villages were polite enough, and came to see Nakatane to pay their respects, as he did with them in turn.

But those from larger establishments, and bigger and more well-known families were less liable to even look in their direction. They had hundreds of samurai under their command – it was a rank they cared not for.

Such people were breeds apart from the likes of Nakatane, and commanded thousands of men under them, making up the bulk of Imagawa’s forces.

Gengyo paid attention to their various banners, recording the faces of their leaders, and the names that went with their crest.

It was a while on the road before they finally caught sight of the Imagawa himself. Or at least, of his camp. The Daimyo seemed to be resting his feet inside the huge tent that had been pitched for him.

His tent was surrounded by hundreds of other smaller ones, looking more like a small town than an encampment. Soldier’s sat enjoying food by a fire, trying to stay out of reach of nagging flies.

A bald emissary came to greet them, informing them that they too should construct their tents and relax. Imagawa would want to see them later in the evening.

They did as they would told, but came away feeling a little unimpressed. It was Imagawa who had called them to arms. Could he not come and greet them himself?

The tents were pitched quickly, and they sat around the fire enjoying the first meal of that day, greedily filling their empty stomachs. It had not taken them as long as they had expected to get to this point, but the reason for that seemed to lie in the fact that they were not actually at Washizu. Instead, they were camped a few miles away, at a point where the fortress was only barely visible on the horizon.

Gengyo glanced around their vast encampment.

’If they were to lead a single army – even just 2000 in number – then they would completely eradicate us... There are no defences in place. None whatsoever.’

He harboured a preconceived opinion of Imagawa, despite having not met the man, and everything thus far pointed to that opinion being justified.

He kept himself on his guard. He did not trust the man to lead them correctly. He did not want his men to suffer because of someone else’s faults. Even though the siege of the first two fortresses – historically speaking – was meant to go their way... he dared not leave their fate in his hands.

He sat on a log by the fire as the men pitched the tents around them. Nakatane sat next to him, whilst Jikouji was busy organising the unloading of supplies.

"What’s that brooding look for?"

He older man asked him, wondering why his Special Force’s unit commander was so quiet.

Gengyo looked back at him, unsmiling, his eyes serious.

"Even though he is our Daimyo, we must take caution. I fear he does not care as much for our lives as he does his own."

Nakatane raised his eyebrows, responding casually as though such a notion was self-evident.

"Of course, lad. We just follow the orders we’re given and try not to die in the process."

"I guess so... This meeting that you’re going to later, what will it be like?"

"It’ll just be the bigshots pretending to discuss plans, though everything is decided already. The only purpose in me going is to find out what our role in the siege will be."

He looked bored simply talking about it.

Gengyo nodded his understanding, as he shifted around to watch his men at work.

Morohira was scolding Rokkaku for not holding the tent tightly enough whilst he hammered the pegs into the ground.

Kitajo was sharing a lively conversation with one of the newer members – someone only a little older than him – as they handed down supplies from the cart.

Each of the Special Forces members were lively and animated, despite their underwhelming reception. They trusted that in the battles ahead, they would have their moment. They would be able to make everyone look their way, and wish that they had paid them more attention from the start.

From their high spirits, he himself drew strength. Even if their commanding general was incompetent, it was possible for them to perform well. He reaffirmed his resolve: this first battle would be theirs. And with that simple promise to himself, no longer did he feel the lethargy that came with anticipating incompetence. Instead, he felt fired up, as he planned numerous strategies within his head.

When Nakatane slipped away later that evening, he barely noticed him leaving, having been so caught up in idle conversation with his men, as they sat by the fire and shared a meal.

The meeting seemed to span a rather long time, and must have been even longer for the master, and when he returned he looked bored beyond belief, and immensely tired, but before he retired to get some sleep, he came over to make an announcement.

"We fight tomorrow."

He said simply, and quietly, but his words reached all their ears for they were listening intently. The Special Forces unit responded with energized cheers, excited to have their chance presented to them already. The main unit, on the other hand, looked more than a little apprehensive. Their faces were white, and some were downright terrified.

He held a hand up for quiet, and there was soon silence once more.

"It’s said that Washizu has 300 men defending it, so Imagawa is sending 1000 men to attack it – we’re part of that number. The attackers seem to be mainly composed of us smaller units that come from villages."

Gengyo stroked his chin, processing such information. Realistically, they could send all 12000 men to attack at once, and bombard the enemy with wave after wave of arrows. But it seemed he wished to keep his main forces fresh for later battles, perhaps believing those units to be superior.

Still, he would not complain too heavily as such an opportunity was perfect for his men.

"Who will be leading?"

He asked.

"Okabe Motonobu – one of Imagawa’s senior retainers."

The name was familiar to him, but he did not know much about the man, aside from what Nakatane had already mentioned. He just hoped that he would not be too restrictive in his command.

Seeing that there were no more questions to be had, their master bid them a good night, and turned toward his tent, Jikouji followed toward his own a moment later.

"Alright fellas, we better go get some sleep as well. It’ll be our first battle tomorrow – don’t want you falling asleep on the job."

"We’re back! Back to kick some asses again! I’m reckoning that it’ll only take one battle, and all of Japan will know our names!"

Rokkaku said, all but shaking with excitement. He was like a child on Christmas eve, albeit a slightly murderous child.

"One battle? You’re a bit optimistic..."

Niiro commented dryly, spooning the last of his rice in his mouth before stretching slightly.

"We’ll aim for it."

Gengyo proposed.

"We’ll aim to be the ones to take their commander’s head. It’s doable."

"HOH!? REALLY? HELL YEAH!"

Rokkaku shouted, even more pumped up than before.

Morohira was grinning maniacally as well, already claiming the commander’s life as his own.

Their young leader smiled at their enthusiasm, feeling rather excited himself. He’d put in a good amount of work into the preparation for these battles – he would not allow it to go to waste. With a clenched fist, and his blood on fire, he retired for the evening.

It turned out to be a mistake, as he tossed and turned his mind full of thoughts as battle, and as he heard the warhorn summoning them to awake from their slumber, he had barely slept a wink.

//Author’s Note

Hope you enjoyed, one more chapter to come!