A Time Traveller’s Guide To Feudal Japan - Chapter 338

They burst through the palace doors long before Morojo could prepare them a proper welcoming. Even the guards at the gate had been mistrustful of the bloodied group of warriors that bid that they enter, but with their striking black armour, and the two beautiful women that rode with them, there was no mistaking who they were.

Morojo rushed down, wearing a silken kimono with a collar of golden threads. He was truly transitioning well into the role of a governor.

“Miura-dono, Jikouji… You’re battered. Have you just done battle? I’ve had no words from my scouts, else I would have had preparations made. I was told that everything seemed to be stable… what on earth happened?” Morojo asked. His face darkened when they were quiet for a little too long. “Don’t tell me… you were defeated?”

“Ha!” Morohira shouted his laughter at that, and the rest of them began to chuckle with him, even Gengyo.

With an intense look in his eye, Togashi took a few steps closer to Morohira, and he announced what had truly happened. “We slaughtered them all. Right down to the last man.”

Gengyo saw Morojo visibly shudder. He had worked his whole life with warriors, preparing sh.i.p.s for them and the like, but he had never been one. “…You terrify me, you do. What you achieve is impossible for a man to predict. You did not even mobilize your whole army, did you? Of course you didn’t, else I would have heard about it. So, am I right in guessing that you slaughtered the entire fifty-thousand strong Hojo army merely with the few thousand that you had inside Matsudaira’s fortress?”

“I suppose you would be right in saying that,” Gengyo agreed, unbuckling his dou and allowing the weighty piece of armour to fall to the floor. Servants were already on hand, waiting in the wings of the grand entrance hall, and they rushed over to clean up after him. “We seem to fare better against aggressive foes, I would wager. Against the more conservative types, like the Uesugi, victory has been harder to grasp.”

His men began to copy him, ridding themselves of their armour, and allowing it to slap against the floor in front of them. Morojo was getting the idea by now. “I’ll have you some food brought,” he declared, “a grand feast laid. The baths have only just been cleaned, with a section for both the men and women. You might enjoy them. I know I do. We have a cause to celebrate. Reunited at last, with the most extreme pressure removed, and victorious above it all.”

“There you go, Morojo, finally getting it right,” Jikouji smiled. “I know I’ll be taking you up on that offer. A good bath is just what these old bones need.”

“I think we all do,” Gengyo agreed. “Our army will likely be coming through your city gates before sundown, Morojo.”

“Noted,” the shipwright nodded. “I’m glad you came ahead of them, so at least I have a little time to make some preparations.”

“Always looking out for you,” Gengyo grinned, before turning to the rest of them. “Bath time, boys.”

They rushed on ahead, eagerly seeking out that those warm waters, looking forward to getting the wintery chill from out their bones. They passed the old Imagawa throne room as they went.

“They managed to get the blood out the floor,” Morohira commented.

“Do you know what they did with the body? I would have left the f.u.c.ker there to rot,” Rokkaku spat.

“Straight in the river,” Morohira said resolutely, “I dragged the bastard there myself. Would have been even better if he was still alive. Let the fishes slowly nibble away on him. That would have been justice.”

“He went in a bad enough way anyway, didn’t he?” Gengyo pointed out.

“Not bad enough,” even Jikouji spoke up. ” A stain on the earth, that man was. Only when all of his seed are dead will I be satisfied.”

“Their day will come,” Gengyo promised, making his way up the stone steps, passing by rows of bowing servants. Morojo had restored the palace to its previous high, even if they had removed all the gold and jewels for the costs of their wars.

“We’re going on ahead,” Rin said, dragging Akiko behind her and racing up the stairs.

They barely managed to utter a word in reply before the girls had cleared several flights of stairs and claimed the best part of the bathhouse for themselves. Gengyo saw several servants hurry after them in a panic, apparently needing to prepare for their coming first, but being more than unable to.

“What’s a bathhouse doing so high up, anyway?” Jikouji complained, beginning to struggle with the steps.

“How is it that you don’t even breath heavy in battle, but when you’re climbing stairs, you’re like a cripple?” Gengyo asked.

“Efficiency,” Jikouji said, “give me a hundred men over a hundred stairs any day.”

“I could carry you,” Sasaki offered.

“I’d rather you throw me down them than carry me up,” Jikouji said, refusing to forsake his pride.

“I’ll take you up on that,” Morohira said, pretending to push him.

“Just you try, pup, I’ll have your hands cut off before you can blink,” Jikouji bit back.

“This guy,” Morohira laughed, pointing with at him with a thumb, “still thinks he can take me, even after how much of my strength he has seen.”

“Aye, I could take you even if I only had wooden blade,” Jikouji said, his plight with the stairs making him irritable.

A vein appeared on Morohira’s forehead. “Better back up your words old man, before I make you eat them.”

“Alright, that’s enough,” Gengyo stepped in, “the baths are on the next floor. Let’s try and keep everyone alive until then.”

“Damned old man…” Morohira muttered, but he managed to keep his blade sheathed. Jikouji’s true battle had been with the stairs anyway, and soon they saw the steam of the hot baths drifting up over paper walls and they put their quarrel to the side in the place of a relaxing pleasure.