"Well now, this isn’t too bad then, is it?" Gengyo commented as they made their way into the commander’s quarters. The floor was all clean tatami and in the centre of the room there ran a long low table capable of sitting up to thirty men. It was the cleanness that delighted him most. After so long on the road, he had forgotten what it meant to be clean.
Spread across the middle of the table, there was a map, as there always should be in a commander’s room. Numerous little pieces were dotted around on it, blue for the Hojo-Imagawa army and red for the allied forces.
There was a pile of paper and a pot of ink ready as well, the quill still firmly placed in the pot. One could guess just how many messages Matsudaira had been sending. To command from a distance was no easy feat.
"I’m glad it’s up to your standards," Matsudaira smiled, "care for a drink?" He held up a pot of sake as ill.u.s.tration.
Gengyo paused a moment. Normally he would not be in favour of drinking so early in the day, but he shrugged despite that. "If you’re drinking, then I will too," he decided, kneeling down by the table and paying the map a closer look. The tatami was incredibly springy. There wasn’t much that could compare to its feeling. Comfort of kings, truly.
"Are you thinking of battle once more?" Matsudaira asked as he slid Gengyo a shallow bowl of sake, noting that his Lord was gazing so intently at the map.
"I can not help it," Gengyo confessed. "Battle has seemed tiresome lately, with our backs so against the wall, but this here is an opportunity for creativity and enjoyment. I’m excited."
"The truth is, I am too," Matsudaira admitted. "With you back, it is a weight off my shoulders. Victory seems so clear and certain now. Even if you hadn’t brought eight thousand men with you, if it was just you alone, victory would still be much closer."
Gengyo had to laugh. The smell of the alcohol reminded him of its feeling and he loosened up all the more. "Imagine if those Hojo men could hear us talking so confidently when they have an army of fifty thousand men waiting outside our walls."
"They would implode with irritation," Matsudaira said, seeming delighted by the thought.
"Well, it has been a while since we’ve done this, but shall we form a plan?" Gengyo asked, finishing up his sake and reaching for the pot to replenish himself.
"Nothing would delight me more," Matsudaira said. With a finger, he pointed to the Hojo camp on the map. "They have the advantage of slight tree cover. The movement within camp is near impossible to see unless we send a scout right up close, but even that is worthless – we’ll only be sending a good man to his grave."
"Mm... I’ve heard it before said that only a strong offensive could make up for the disadvantage of numbers. There was a man once who was put in much the same position as you and I, but perhaps even worse. He had only two thousand men under his command, yet he had to contend with an army of twenty-five thousand," Gengyo stated.
"Those are some horrific odds," Matsudaira murmured, "far worse than ours. How did that man fair?"
"Oh, he shattered his enemy. He cut them down, right to the last man. Under the cover of darkness, he led his men into their encampment and sliced the head of the enemy commander clean off. The general had underestimated him, expecting him to merely wait and take siege, for what kind of mad man would launch a counter-attack with such minor numbers?" Gengyo told him.
"That is certainly within our grasp," Matsudaira said thoughtfully, stroking his chin. "Where is their commander now, after he accomplished such a great victory?"
"He’s dead," Gengyo said grimly, "I killed him." He awarded himself a sip of sake.
"As to be expected of Miura-dono. Even a talent like that, you crush without problem," Matsudaira said in awe. Gengyo liked him even more for not asking a follow up question. For being satisfied with that simple answer.
"Well, I’m sure his strategy only worked because of the viewpoint he had. He knew where the enemy was and what they were doing at all times. We don’t hold such an advantage. We can perhaps turn to Takeshi instead, to cause some havoc of the modern kind," Gengyo said.
"Takeshi made sure to put our cannons on wheels, so that they could be repositioned whenever was necessary. Perhaps we might be able to employ them to a certain effect, get the enemy running so that we can swoop in with our men and deal a decesive stroke," Matsudaira said.
"Hoh, you can always count of Takeshi to do things the right way," Gengyo said, pleased by the news, "I will have to pay him a visit. The sword he had made for me has served him well."
A head stuck around the door as they talked and Rin made her presence known with a loud condemnation. "Really, Nii-san? Running off to the pretty room with Matsudaira and leaving us behind? Don’t you think we would have wanted to join you where it’s warm?"
"It’s the sake. My sister is turning into something of an alcoholic," Gengyo explained to Matsudaira.
Matsudaira immediately accepted his words as fact and with a stone face, he began to pour a second drink. "We all have our crutches," he said, "the stresses of war are not for everyone. Please, Lady Rin, share in our drink."
"I’m not an alcoholic-" Rin began to protest, but Gengyo was already talking over her.
"Thank you for being so understanding, Matsudaira, my dear sister is ashamed to have a weakness, so she always moves to deny it. But she is in good company here, let us assure her. She will not be judged."
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