A Time Traveller's Guide To Feudal Japan

Their hands fell to their weapons. The air was still. Silence reigned. Their hearts were calm.

"We’ve been betrayed," Gengyo declared, a smile on his lips. In a world that was so often grey, it was helpful to have a man painted in black. "Oda Nobunaga has declared himself our enemy."

"Foolish," Jikouji murmured, shaking his head, there was not the slightest hint of fear.

"Indeed. The question still stands though: how did he ship Kenshin’s men this far west without us noticing?" Gengyo said, stroking his chin, more interested in that puzzle by the threat that was in front of him.

"They’ve got our horses," Akiko noted monotonously. The men had made their way to the bottom of the staircase, holding spears, longer than the average yari. They pierced through their horses without mercy, and their screams rang out into the evening air.

"That they have," Gengyo agreed. "We will have to take a few lives in compensation." Behind him, he heard the purr of steel passing wood as his guardsmen drew their weapons. He turned, looking at them a moment, before giving them an approving nod. Their fear was not present either.

He wondered why he hadn’t heard his father put forward one of his usual comments and worried that the man might have finally begun to feel the pressure. However, when looked at him, Morohira’s jaw was clenched into a tiger’s smile. The reason he did not speak was due to excitement. It was not often that he was put in a situation with such adrenaline.

Of all the men amongst them, Yamagata was without a doubt the weakest. He had only been training with them for a short amount of time, and though he had improved, he did not stand anywhere near their elite level. Whilst they thought about solving this problem brutishly, his mind was awhirl with strategy. "There are woods a mile south of here. If we can pass these foot soldiers, we will be able to lose them in there," the Takeda general suggested.

The Uesugi men were steady as they marched up their steps. A man stood at their helm, clad in armour befitting of a Daimyo, though it was a spear that sat in his hand as well. It was a party of three that commanded them, and it was not a menyori that covered their faces, but a length of black cloth raised up to their noses.

It aligned with the what Gengyo knew of the man. Uesugi Kenshin was said to be a devout Buddhist, and a servant of the war god Bishamonten. That was what the character on his banners represented. It was that turban-like half-mask that Gengyo had seen in doc.u.ments in the past.

"Kenshin!" Gengyo called down to him from atop the steps when the men had made it halfway up. "I had thought you to be an honourable man! Cornering me at a temple does not strike me as particularly honourable!"

The man did not reply. None of them did. They continued marching up the steps one foot at a time, their spears extended forwards, already falling into a wall. Gengyo loosened his sword from his scabbard, and he heard Togashi and Jikouji draw theirs. Akiko had her naginata grasped with both hands, confidence written on her fair face.

"Do you truly fear me this much? I have done you a favour! Had I not seized victory over Shingen, he would have seized your head sooner or later," he spoke words filled with an itching venom, attempting to irritate his opponent into irrationality, but the men did not speak a single word and only kept coming forward with the robotic insistence of an army of golems.

Every inch of those narrow steps was filled with men, all with spears in their hands. Bowmen sat right at the bottom, arrows knocked and strings drawn, whilst a detachment of cavalry stayed mounted, prepared to chase them should they decide to flee.

Gengyo was tapping his finger against the grip of his sword, his eyes flickering here then there, trying to search for any sign of weakness. But when one stood against an army of that size with as few men as he, the options were limited. A head-on confrontation would have them killed, no matter their superior skill.

"If we are to survive this, we will need to take those horses. Stay close beside me, we will force our way towards them. Do not die until then," Gengyo said in a low voice, his muscles tensing up, waiting for the perfect opportunity.

The imposing trio in their deep purple armour and gold horned helmets stopped mere metres out of range. The entire army ground to a halt beside them. From the trio, a single man separated, the smallest of three, but he had an air of absolute authority. Kenshin, Gengyo assumed.

That man reached up with his hands towards his helmet, and Gengyo’s party flinched, fearing a trick, but he merely drew it from his head. His hair, like his mouth, was bound up by the same black cloth, and he drew it back, unwinding it. His long hair spilt out, and then his nose was revealed, and then a mouth with lips curled in a superior snarl. The beardless face of a young man. "Hello, Miura-dono," he said.

Gengyo’s fist clenched as he looked upon him, realizing who it was that dared to stand so close. "Nobunaga... You cur."

"Now now," Nobunaga said, wagging his finger, "you only say that because you’ve wound up on the losing side."

The riddle was solved. The impossible question of how Uesugi Kenshin managed to shift so many men westwards was revealed to have no answer, for he had not managed it at all.

"So those are your intentions? You plan to lay my death at the hands of the Uesugi because you fear how my army will retaliate? Cowardly, Nobunaga, cowardly indeed. I have to say, I am disappointed," Gengyo replied calmly.

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