Short Story: Sengoku-Hokori aru Haiboku

Well...here is a little something about me you people do not know...not that you know a lot about me anyways. In my spare time [and when I feel like it] I write short stories for this little special magazine that is published once a week in the local newspaper...the magazine is known as Rising Stars.

And most [ok...all] of the time...they print the nuggets of intellectual gold that I so skillfully grace the literary world with.

Except this time...those pedantic bastards.

Apparently...my story is too big and other such irrelevant issues not worth spewing forth like an inept cow. Thus, I decided that maybe it was time to let my dear reader(s) [tell me if there are more than one of you at a time] in on my strikingly godlike hobby.

Also...the Rising Stars version was supposed to contain a small foreword/preface that bore certain historical facts that a certain being of literary ineptitude and lack of integrity failed to stay true to in his/her 'historical' piece. I decided that robbing the person of his/her self-esteem and confidence [they're the same aren't they? oh well...] is not worth my precious time.

So if that person is reading this...try not to be too anal and offensive in your hate-comment. I can't help it if I have to mention the person who took what I started and attempted to engage in reputation-rape with his/her bird-brained scribblings. And try to use your real name...I so tire of anonymous people hating my guts...I deal with enough in the real world.

Oh, and before I forget...this story is actually the third part of an ongoing series I am writing. All the historical facts are, in fact, accurate. Except of course, the two main characters and the descriptions of the battle and battle-tactics. All figures and battle outcomes, including the leaders of each side are accurate. Please let me know if I have still made a mistake in the historical facts somewhere [unlikely].

Sengoku:
Hokori Aru Haiboku
By-Shampad Mutakabbir Rahmatullah

Prologue

Shimazu Ujitsuna’s feet were burning now. His eyes were growing heavy in tandem to every beat of his heart he felt banging at his eardrums. His spear was growing heavier in his firm grasp with each step he took. Wearily, he looked around and saw not only his platoon, but every other soldier around him as weary as him. Those not trained as he was were worse off; and seemed to be faltering as if wounded. Even the soldiers on horseback looked ready to call in a day, and they were supposed to keep up the morale of the rest of the soldiers, especially as Takeda daimyo (Japanese feudal lord) himself rode among them. It had been merely a few hours since they had last eaten and the journey caused images of the next mealtime to be many of the soldiers’ only motivation for walking. Even Shimazu himself felt hungry, even though he had trained under sterner conditions than most of the men there. But, as Shimazu himself knew, his duty came first. He would show his worth to Takeda daimyo and be strong and vigilant for both his lord and his men. Of the 28,000 men, Shimazu Ujitsuna would show them strength, if no one else would.

Otomo Yoshitsune rode out of Hamamatsu with his comrades, and allies he had met only hours ago. He and several other senior officers had received the orders in more detail than the rest of their lesser comrades in arms and so, fostered a deeper understanding of the events to transpire in a few hours. It would seem that the feared Takeda Shingen himself would lead an army to take over Hamamatsu, Tokugawa Ieyasu’s headquarters. Thus, to stop the Takeda domination of Tôtômi; Otomo’s lord; Oda Nobunaga sent 3,000 of his troops to aid his ally. Thus, under the lead of Tokugawa Ieyasu himself, Otomo and his companions rode out to the Mikata Plain to suppress the attacking army. Spear held unyielding, Otomo rode on as his mind wrapped itself around the cold edges of doubt.

Chapter-1

Shimazu was among the first of the soldiers to feel a distinct rumbling beneath their feet. Though he was not at the front of the lines, he could only guess that the ominous grumbling from Earth’s crust would not yield good tidings. A general on horseback rode out ahead, peered into the expansive landscape, and gave the order to stop marching. All the men and horses halted as one and Shimazu could now see the reason. Stretched out in front of them was an army ready to give battle. No, Shimazu thought. It was the enemy, ready to take away their lives and honor. His weariness leaving him, Shimazu stood at attention with his spear at the ready, prepared to rush forward at the instance of Lord Takeda's command.

His heart was again beating, despite the stoppage and subsequent activity of marching across entire territories. He realized that it was beating not due to any physical activity on his part, but because of the promise of battle stretched out across him. He had indeed been in battles before, but never one which was led by two Lords of such distinction. Never with honour at such precarious stake. As he continued to peer into the large army before him, his thoughts went to his platoon, standing beside him hoping that they would do as well as their superiors. So many of them were new, just as Shimazu himself was about a year ago in the battle to capture Iwamura. He got to know most of them and he prayed that they would come out of this battle in one piece. He could hear his superiors talking about strategies, but he was too far away and his superiors were too quiet for Shimazu to properly hear them.

In a few minutes, Shimazu took a deep breath as his Lord and his generals rode off to the centre of the battlefield. He could make out a few horsemen from the other side do the same as the leaders of the two factions began negotiations. There were quiet muttering throughout the battalions as friends discussed what they were probably saying and what they would do if the worse should happen. It took little more than a few minutes until the whole army inhaled as one, for Lord Takeda and his generals rode back. They listened as the generals gave them their orders. Some listened in horror, some with courage and bloodlust, and even more with quiet submission as they understood what was expected of them.

Shimazu Ujitsuna gave his armour a quick check and firmly gripped his spear as so many others were doing. The time for talk was over; the fate of this encounter would be decided not by pretty words or clever diplomacy, but by their skill, their resolve, and their blades. An order was given, and the archers moved into position, as did the cavalry. Finally, the awaited order was given, and the soldiers started their descent into the closest thing to Hell on Earth. They moved, as one, towards battle. Shimazu licked his lips in enthusiasm.

Chapter-2

Otomo sat mounted, peering coldly at the vast soldiers across the battlefield. It seemed to him that the enemy had the advantage in numbers. For a moment he thought he heard a distant rumbling, he only had to look down to see the cause of the sound. It was his own heart, beating in a manner that he had not felt before. He felt no fear but it was as if his very soul felt the icy gyrations of Death and was relaying him the information by the crescendo of sound his heart seemed to beat in his ears. He turned around slowly and joined in the discussion with the rest of the generals and Tokugawa Ieyasu. They decided to start negotiations with the enemy; maybe they could stop the battle before any lives were lost. Otomo, Tokugawa Ieyasu and two more generals rode off towards the centre of the field.

Otomo sat on his horse silently, concentrating on the matters at hand. The enemy generals, led by Takeda Shingen, demanded that Ieyasu's forces move aside and surrender to the might of Takeda. But Ieyasu was adamant, even faced with such odds; he was unyielding and demanded that Takeda's forces back down. The negotiations were not going as well as Otomo hoped. In just a few more minutes, the two daimyo exchanged goodbyes and were riding furiously towards their armies. Blood would be spilled on this land in mere moments. And unless Ieyasu's men fought hard, they would be over-run.

Being a general, it was Otomo's responsibility to confer with the generals and arrange the soldiers according to their strategies. But in such a textbook encounter, there was no other effective strategy but the text-book one. Tokugawa Ieyasu's men were outnumbered anyways, nothing but skill and perseverance would win this battle. Tokugawa and his generals ordered an assault with the more-experienced Oda troops up front to break the Takeda forward positions. This would leave the Tokugawa troops to handle the rest of the grand army displayed in front of them.

Otomo Yoshitsune sat on his mount and gazed into the peering eyes in front of him. He was not only a general, but an Oda general, and so the duty to lead some of the Oda troops fell to him. His wisdom knew that their mission was the hardest one of all the 14,000 soldiers assembled here. Their rash march into battle would be more akin to marching into the waiting hands of Izanami (the goddess of death according to Shinto belief). But he was not afraid; his duty to his master Oda Nobunaga surpassed all other human emotion.

He readied his spear and awaited Tokugawa Ieyasu's order; he noticed that the Takeda armies had already begun to move towards them. At last, the order from Tokugawa was given, and Otomo and his men marched onwards to meet their hateful invaders.

Chapter-3

Shimazu Ujitsuna marched onwards, the sight of his advancing enemy being the only motivation for him to keep going. He could feel his heart thumping deep in his chest, acting as a metronome to his footsteps, but even that was drowned out by the earth-shattering rumble of his own comrades and his enemies starting to sprint. Spear held at the ready, he took sight of the first person he would engage, his eyes focused into a tunnel-vision as he blocked out all other sensory perceptions. It was only a few seconds, but for a brief instance that seemed as if hours, he recalled his training under Hashiba Minamoto. It was strange, but remembering those moments helped him calm down in the heat of battle. He subconsciously looked down at his katana, his master had given it to him to inaugurate his being part of Takeda daimyo's clan.

He could hear the odd Takeda gun firing from behind their position, and he noticed some soldiers from the enemy's front lines fall. He was almost taken by surprise as the sound of a tremendous war cry erupted from the other side. He could make out the hail of arrows from both sides flying towards the centre of the intrepid battleground; he braced himself for impact as a mist of blood sprayed out the wounds of men from both sides. Finally, Shimazu drew breath, the calm before the storm had approached, he saw the next five seconds as if it had taken five hours. The two armies clashed near the centre of the field as Shimazu's senses went into overdrive and he heard; the cacophonous sound of spears and armour clashing, the breezy sound of swords being unsheathed, and the sickening noise made when metal penetrates the fragile human flesh; it all attempted to overwhelm Shimazu's senses. But he had been in battle before, and so did not falter. He aimed his spear at an approaching horseman's heart.

Otomo Yoshitsune rode hard against the onslaught of the army laid before him. He saw the sudden flash of the Takeda guns and moved his body violently, feeling a sudden heat go past his well armoured form. He yelled a few words of encouragement to his troops and he thought he could hear them answer back with a triumphant war cry. His spirits soared as adrenaline took over and he rode harder than ever. He swerved out of the middle of the armies as the deafening clash of their armours and spears reached his ears. The torrent of men fighting for their lords was proving much for Otomo's old body, but Otomo fought on. He swerved his horse around the approaching men, causing death at every move of his skillful spear. The second the fighting let up, he stole a look at his men, and felt de-spirited almost immediately. Many of his men had perished during the fated clash; he had failed as a leader. But then, he felt a new motivation to continue fighting, the most powerful motivation of all; survival.

He continued to strike all around him like a conquering typhoon; many men fell at his hands as he tried to make it to his own side. Just then he saw it. Like a flash of lightning, a lone enemy soldier had slipped in front of Otomo and had his spear at the ready. What happened next happened so fast that even Otomo himself could not make it out. The spear lunged towards Otomo's chest; aimed skillfully at his heart; and Otomo tried to shift his body to the right in order to avoid it, but all he managed to do in his tired and old body, was to shift a little to the right, causing the spear to impale his shoulder. But the strike was enough for Otomo to lose his balance, and he came tumbling to the ground. He fell hard against the blood-soaked body of one of his own men. He looked at his wound and saw the stream of blood gushing from his body, the armour itself had been damaged around the point of impact, so skillful the spearman was. He could feel a presence approach him, and so his finely honed reflexes quickly unsheathed his katana.

Chapter-4

Shimazu Ujitsuna felt most of his spear's blade break as it collided with the horseman. But he held it in place, and saw to it that the horseman fell to the ground. He quickly turned to an enemy soldier next to him and quickly dispatched him with his katana. Bloodlust had replaced guilt a long time ago, and was still ringing deep in Shimazu's soul, the Oni (Japanese demon) known as Shimazu turned to his previous victim, and saw him slowly getting up. He bolted towards the wounded horseman and was almost killed himself as a deadly iaijutsu (deadly move consisting of a lightning fast draw-and-slash technique) almost took his head.

In a flash, the wounded soldier was on his feet and the next few seconds went by in a blur as the two warriors faded into a world of their own, oblivious to the raging battle around them. The duel was desperate and calm, precise and chaotic, skillful and wild, as they collided against each other. Families and promises forgotten, they melded into a frenzy of bloodlust and instinct, locked in a battle far more exhausting than if they had taken on the entire army themselves. Then crimson lightning seemed to flash from a blade.

For a brief second, Otomo remembered back to the time of the order for him to leave for his current assignment. For a simple gut feeling, Otomo had left his prized armour to his son, Imagawa. He did not think about it afterwards, but, as the coldness of steel impaled his chest, he knew why he had done so. And as he stared into the blade dripping with his own crimson life, he thought he saw a tree, on fire, and then a familiar face seemed to smile at him as the cruel blade twisted, robbing him of life.

Shimazu felt the hurricane die down as the figure his sword was sticking into slumped silently onto the blood-drenched ground. There was an odd calm about the way the horseman, a general on closer inspection, died. Shimazu hoped that he would die as nobly. But then the full horrors of the battle re-entered his senses. He saw the Takeda horsemen rallying as they attacked the sides of the Tokugawa army. Shimazu himself ran towards the heart of the battle, as did countless others. His blade, a crimson such as the very flames of hell.

Epilogue

After many hours of frantic combat, Shimazu sat down in the makeshift tent on the outskirts of the Tokugawa headquarters. Drained of all energy, he let his body take over as his mind slipped into the warm embrace of sleep. He and countless other brave warriors fought hard for this victory, and they deserved their rest. There would either be a siege on the citadel, or they would return home as victors, but for now, no one cared about anything more than a good night's rest.

There wasn't a siege, and Takeda Shingen, content with the weakening of his enemy, returned triumphantly to his headquarters. Tokugawa Ieyasu, barely making it out of the battle alive, could nary breathe a sigh of relief. Thus, on this day, the 6th of January, 1573, ended the battle of Mikata-ga-hara in Tôtômi.

END

Title by Rekoxma.

Maybe I'll upload the previous two episodes if you like this. Let me know. And Rekoxma is a friend of mine.

And yes, I know...I do rock.

Ciao.