By early morning, the master and his two retainers were mounted, travelling toward Tobishima. They were not kitted out in full armour, but it was not as though they were completely defenceless either. Each of them had a sword at his hip, and with them they had brought the men who would form the foundation of Gengyo’s Special Forces unit.
Aside from the men who had fought with him in battle, there were three extra men in the unit. Morohira was one. As soon as he had heard of the formation of the Special Forces unit, he wanted to be a part of it. The man loved to fight – and who would not want to fight alongside their own family? He figured that since his son was in charge, he would be able to do pretty much as he pleased.
But that had proved not to be the case, and now he walked alongside Masaatsu, grumbling as he carried a spade and yari just like the rest of them.
The other two recruits were Yoritomo and Aritada who Gengyo invited on a whim, and was as yet still unsure how they would perform.
The stallion the young man sat mounted on was a pure black, almost identical to Ishiyama’s. The similarity was so striking, that the boy could not help but hold suspicions that such an arrangement had been done purposefully.
A flock of crows took flight as they neared, abandoning the corpses on which they were feasting.
Jikouji wrinkled his nose.
"The stench is quite... something."
"Yes, it’s a smell that I hope I don’t become too familiar with."
Nakatane agreed.
After the battle, only the bodies of their comrades had been taken. They were far too exhausted to care about the rest. But it was not as though they could simply leave them in the middle of the field forever. Afterall, this was now their land, and it was the main route into Tobishima. It would be most unwise to leave it to sully.
"Tell your men to leave their tools here. We will deal with the bodies on the way back."
Gengyo nodded, before repeating the order to his unit.
"You fellas will be glad to hear that we can leave the spades here. We can enjoy the hard work on the way back, but for now, let’s see what Toda’s been hiding, eh?"
Sighs of relief sounded out as the heavy spades slipped from their hands to the floor. It was a laborious task carrying both that and the yari. But their exhaustion did not stop their excitement. Toda was a man of immense wealth, and their imaginations ran wild in anticipation of what they might find.
"Let’s go then, Commander Miura Sir!"
Morohira called out, much to Gengyo’s annoyance. His father could be rather childish at times, and ever since he had heard Rokkaku utter that series of titles jokingly, he had not stopped saying it.
The rest of the unit laughed, but the young man let them have their fun. Perhaps it was an inappropriate way of behaving toward your commanding officer, but he did not care for that kind of formality. The way he saw it, the more freely his men were able to act around him, the better they would perform as a unit because there would never be any fear of approaching him.
It was not like Gengyo could spot everything, and so in his men, he placed a trust that they would become an extension of his eyes and ears.
Nakatane and Jikouji were observing the young man rather intensely, though they attempted to do it without his notice. It was always a worry that a position of power might change one for the worse, but so far – much to their relief – they did not notice anything untoward about his behaviour, though they disapproved slightly of his casual relationship with his men.
Before long, they arrived at the village. The first thing they saw were the rice fields which were rather different to their own. They had not had the time to properly flood the fields, so the crops were not growing optimally. Yet the villagers of Tobishima had seemingly completed their flooding a long time ago, and the rice looked well on its way to maturity.
The three mounted men took note of this, though each for different reasons.
They steered their horses toward a cobblestone path that lead to the heart of the village, with a few houses scattered en route.
They walked at a slow cautious pace in silence. The only sound was that of the clopping horse’s hooves, and the heavy footsteps of the men that followed behind. Though nothing had been said, each of them held a degree of nervousness, for they did not know what lay ahead. It was quite possible that Toda left some men behind at his village, having underestimated their resistance.
Their pace slowed further as they reached the end of the first house, fully expecting something to jump out. The group paused, and with a nod toward Nakatane, Jikouji drew his sword, and slowly trotted forwards first.
He neared the edge of the corner, straining his neck to try and peek around, his sword raised, ready.
"AH-"
A short scream that was quickly cut short as Jikouji’s blade flashed through the air and travelled toward the soft flesh of a young neck.
The blade had stopped a millimetre away from flesh, and a terribly skinny boy stood shivering in his rags as he collapsed to the floor in a pool of his own urine, prostrating himself toward Jikouji.
"Please... mister... I didn’t mean to hide... please mister Toda... I didn’t mean any harm."
He whimpered, not daring to look up.
The fearsome look that had decorated Jikouji’s face soon faded as he looked toward Nakatane and Gengyo completely baffled.
’It seems the boy thought we were part of Toda’s entourage...’
The young man dismounted from his horse, and with a quick movement, he pulled the young boy to his feet – he was all but 9 – and forced the lad to look him in the eyes.
"It’s alright boy. No one is going to hurt you here. Sorry for scaring you. We’ll all be fine."
He almost had to support the boy’s entire body weight himself, as the lad was so afraid his legs would not hold him steady.
"Is that your house?"
Gengyo motioned toward the building behind them.
The boy nodded, shaking with fear.
"How about you go inside, eh? We’ll handle things from here."
The boy looked back toward him, uncertain.
"Go on."
He encouraged.
The boy took a step away before looking back to see if he was being pursued. When he saw that Gengyo had not moved an inch, he bolted, heading straight toward the door of his house. He pulled it open with a firm movement and dashed inside. The sound of bolts being drawn and shutters being locked let them know that he was still very much uncertain.
The young man looked toward the door for a few more seconds before shrugging. It would have been nice to get some information out of him, but the little boy was far too afraid for something like that.
He glanced toward Nakatane and Jikouji. Neither of them voiced their disapproval, so he remounted, and they rode further along the road.
A skinny old couple quickly shuffled inside as they saw them coming. Similar to the young boy, the doors and windows were tightly locked.
The townspeople were unusually timid. Even if they had caught wind of the results of the battle, and had learned that their master had fallen, there was still no need for such caution. Nakatane’s reputation was well known, and any sensible man would not treat the peasant folk too cruelly, else there would be no one left to farm the land.
This odd behaviour caused Gengyo’s frown to deepen as such displays continued all the way up to Toda’s mansion. One thing that was relatively easy to deduce was that they did not receive enough food. Each and every person they saw looked frail, and their bones were very visible.
’Could it be that...’
His thoughts were cut off as he finally took notice of the imposing structure before him.
"My god..."
He breathed, awed.
"Aye lad. That was my reaction as well when I first saw it."
It was less a mansion and more a castle. A grand four-storied building of such magnitude and style that even the Daiymo could not frown if he ever had to stay it in. It’s architecture perfectly captured the height of Japanese fashion at that time. With high stone walls and beautifully curved tile rooves, it was a sight to behold.
It looked almost brand new. Evidently, a lot of time was put into its upkeep. Its size would prove almost fatal to any team tasked with cleaning it. Gengyo did not envy those who held that job one bit.
For some reason, they had all instinctively paused before opening the two grand wooden doors. They were varnished a dark brown and curved inwards toward the top.
The young man glanced around, and noticed an apprehensiveness about his comrades. It was not something he himself could feel, so he did not quite understand it. With a shrug to himself, he dismounted his horse and walked toward the two doors.
He placed a palm against the wood and pushed, almost falling over. Due to their size he had exerted a considerable force in order to get them to move, but the doors themselves had provided little to no resistance.
They swung open, revealing the interior. Evidently, whoever was dwelling inside at the moment did not deem it fit to lock the door. However, they had already planned ahead for the instance where they were met with a locked door, so there was no keeping them out either way.
A vast hall was revealed. A red carpet ran down the stone floor from the doors, bordered by a series of pillars. It continued onwards towards a set of steps. Atop these steps there sat a rather well-cushioned throne. It alone - with its wood and plump stuffing - stood out. Everything else was immaculate. Not a single spot of dust could be found.
He stepped inside, his footsteps echoing off the stone floor, resounding throughout the room.
"What a vain f.u.c.k.i.n.g bastard."
Nakatane said with distaste, looking at what could only be described as a throne room. It was a mighty waste of money simply to exert a little bit of prestige.
"Indeed."
Jikouji emerged from beside him, and continued walking further into the room. He inspected various points, looking for decorative effects that might be of some value.
"These pillars are pure marble... that cost of such a thing is hard to imagine."
"I agree. The value of the material itself isn’t that significant, but to have it transported here and sculpted must have cost a pretty penny."
Genyo agreed, shaking his head lightly at such frivolity.
"Oi! This looks expensive!"
Rokkaku called from over by the throne chair. All eyes in the room turned to him as he pinched his fingers together and attempted to claw something out from the centremost part of the chair’s arm.
He held it up a blood-red crystal, squinting as it glittered in the sun.
"Gods... Is that a rugby?!"
Jikouji exclaimed, his eyes wide.
//Authors Note
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