A Time Traveller's Guide To Feudal Japan

When - for the third time that day - Gengyo reached for his cup only to find that there was no hand to grasp it, he sighed deeply and gave up on that endeavour entirely, choosing to stare childishly at his steaming cup instead.

Matsudaira moved forward with his hand, about to push it across the table. "What are you doing?" Gengyo asked, an eyebrow raised.

"...Pushing your tea closer to you, my Lord," Matsudaira replied. It was only them in Gengyo’s chamber, sitting with their legs crossed at the low table.

"Do you think me incapable of doing that?" Gengyo asked.

"No my Lord... I just thought that..." Matsudaira stumbled on his words and withdrew his hand, looking truly regretful. For such a dangerous general, he was an awfully sensitive man, and immediately, Gengyo felt guilty.

"Ah, no, you do not need to explain yourself. It is I have that have been irritatable. It will take some getting used to, this loss of a hand," Gengyo said, staring at his stump beneath those clean white bandages. It no longer pained him quite so much, but it was still an eyesore. "It will only serve to make me more grateful when I do return it to its proper function."

"Proper function, my Lord?" Matsudaira’s eyes lit up at that. "Is such a thing truly possible?"

"Possible, yes. But, for now, we have more pressing issues. It seems most of Japan want our heads. My lack of a hand is somewhat more trivial than the loss of life," he refocused on the maps in front of them, complete with their many pieces. There were so many enemies that he found himself running out of colours for the pieces. Red for the Takeda remnants, purple for the Uesugi, blue for the Hojo, green for the Imagawa and yellow for what remained of the Oda. "Tell, what news is there of Shinano?"

"Worse news than yesterday, I’m afraid. Takeda Yoshinobu has seized control and called in what retainers they have left. But, our spies in Shinano have spotted Uesugi scouts a day’s ride from the border," Matsudaira said solemnly.

"The scouts were a days ride away, you say? The bulk of the army will be a day or two behind them... If we dare to hope that Yoshinobu will be able to hold him off for a single day, then we have but four days to meet his threat. Four days until the Takeda lands that Shingen trusted I would protect are lit up in flames..." Gengyo puffed out his cheeks as he thought that over, shaking his head. "It is grim, but within our calculations. Our men will be ready to ride by sundown and I have confidence within our forces."

"That said my Lord, are you sure it is wise for you set out so soon after suffering an injury? You can leave your army within the hands of your generals whilst you rest a few days longer," Matsudaira said, playing with his forked beard, seeming to have already guessed what the answer might be.

"You know I cannot do that. Already I have given you the burdensome task of defending against the Hojo with so little men. My campaign needs to be quick, so that we can relieve you as soon as possible. How have the repairs gone on our own border fortresses?"

"Well enough. We have stocked them well with arrows and bullets and replaced rooting wood with green. We’ve coated our walls against flame and we have enough men manning each so that a surprise assault would not undermine us. We can hold the border for a month, at least, I am confident in that. You can set us from your mind and focus entirely on your own campaign," Matsudaira assured him, reaching for the bronze kettle to pour himself another drink.

"Please, honourable lordship, this one is just boiled and freshly made," a serving girl made her way into the room, holding a new kettle with both hands on its handle. She bowed as she offered it to Matsudaira, leaning in front of Gengyo, her strong perfume attacking his nostrils.

"Ah," Matsudaira looked stumped and a slight blush crept onto his cheeks. The serving girl was young and pretty, but with her head lowered, she did not notice his reaction. Gengyo certainly did not miss it though, and he allowed himself a smirk, as Matsudaira hesitantly exchanged kettles with her. "Thank you," he said at last.

"It is my honour," the girl said simply, as was customary and she bowed once more, kneeling down to close the sliding door behind her.

As they listened to the quiet patter of her footsteps down the corridor, Gengyo’s smile only widened. "A serving girl, Matsudaira? Love has no boundaries, I suppose. It is rather surprising to see you capable of blushing though. I had thought you to have been numb to women."

"...You have your wife to care for, my Lord. When you bless us with an hier, I will entertain your insistence on finding me a woman," Matsudaira said, managing to retain a mask of calm as he politely brought his cup of steaming tea to his lips.

"Akiko is pregnant," Gengyo said flatly.

Matsudaira spat the tea from his mouth, coating much of the table and landing a few droplets on Gengyo’s face. "A jest!" He shouted as he coughed up the rest of his tea.

"Not quite. Her blood has been delayed weeks. There is no mistake," Gengyo said calmly, gently wiping the droplets of spittle from his cheek, before pulling the kettle from Matsudaira’s side of the table and pouring his own cup. "When you sever the limb of a young tree and then plant it, an entirely new tree sprouts, if one cares for it properly. Perhaps it is something like that. It would seem – if your earlier promise is to be honoured – that we will soon see young Matsudaira with a women to share his burdens."

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