Twenty-Ninth Day of the Second Month, Year One Thousand Ten of the Reign of the Ichiya Dynasty

  Horobei

  A foggy morning announced the final march towards the capital. Horobei had woken up early, aiming to get one last opportunity to practice before the march began. His katana sang through the morning air, the thin fog briefly reminding him of the old tales of heroes and battles. Briefly, he even began to feel a bit like a hero. That was until his daydreaming came crashing down as he tripped while transitioning his footing and almost fell into the dirt. He took a breath and sheathed his blade. No sense in skewering himself right before the biggest day of his life.

  “Some early morning practice, my Emperor?” The voice of Sato Himari caught Horobei off guard. As he turned to look at her, he couldn’t help but be impressed by the shining blue armor she wore. His cheeks grew briefly pink as he studied her. For all he imagined being a hero, she truly exemplified the part.

  “Ah, yes. But please, Himari-san. I am not Emperor yet. Let us not stand on formality until we are required to?” The smile he offered her he hoped was reassuring.

  “My Emperor, there are expectations still to be held. Acknowledging you in your title before you have taken the throne builds your credibility among the people.” She paused briefly, but when he didn’t speak up, she continued. “In any case, do you wish for any advice? Our plan should not put you in danger, but it is good to be prepared.”

  “That would be… nice, Himari-san, thank you.” He hesitated a moment, but stepped into his stance. Horobei never cared to admit it, but he was never a great student. The Takasu Dojo enjoyed his presence for the clout of training the Emperor’s son, but he had never been a terribly adroit student. So as Himari walked around him, studying his stance with her piercing eyes, he had to grit his teeth to keep from shaking under her gaze.

  “May I offer critique, my Emperor?” Her voice came from behind, and he almost jumped at the change in tone. He nodded hesitantly, and her armored foot tapped the back of his knee just enough to get it to bend. “You’re too stiff,” she explained. “If I wanted to knock you over, I could almost just push. Widen your stance, bend your knees. You want your center to be as low as possible.” To demonstrate, she stood in front of him, sword kept inside its sheath, and bent her knees. He watched her heels pop up as well, and he looked at her in confusion.

  “Aren’t you ruining your base by lifting your heels like that?”

  She shook her head. “I’ve never fought a master of the Takasu technique, so I am not sure what they teach you. But in the Sato technique, we keep our heels lifted to allow us to push off our back foot more swiftly. I particularly value lateral movement and the ability to turn movement into strikes quickly, so staying flat footed would serve me poorly.”

  He nodded, fairly certain he understood. As he lifted his own heels, he felt rather awkward, especially as the muscles in his ankle quickly started to burn. “And you do this throughout entire fights?”

  She grinned at him in return. “It seems like a lot. But if you are used to it, it doesn’t tax at all.”

  Before she could continue the lesson, the voice of Akihiro Chikao interrupted them both. “I’m sure that the two of you will have plenty of time to get to know each other later, Himari-sama, Emperor. But we are starting the march, and we need our two top folks at the head.”

  Himari grimaced at the ‘top folks' comment, but nodded over to Chikao. “We’ll be there momentarily, Chikao-san. Thank you.” She turned to Horobei, her voice lowering to a whisper he had to strain to hear. “Are you… still sure about this? Naming me as Captain of the Guard, when I am the youngest member of the Chosen still?”

  Horobei lifted his hand in assurance. “Himari-san. This was well discussed already. You were there during that discussion. If even Shizuku-san agrees that you are in the best position to hold that title for the moment, are you really going to continue arguing about it?”

  “I just don’t understand,” she admitted. “Hisao is a better planner than I am. Shizuku has multiple decades of experience. I am a better swordsman, yes, but is that what we need right now?”

  “No, of course not,” he chuckled. “What we need is a leader. And your stunt with Chikao-san has resonated. They look at you and they see someone who will fight with every ounce of her strength to win. What do any of us have in comparison to that?”

  “But-”

  “Himari-san. Please, put this to bed. I cannot be convinced to change my decision. Now, will you continue arguing, or shall we go and take back our fathers’ city?”

  Himari looked about to argue, but a shake of his head did finally get her to nod and smile. “Very well, my Emperor. It is not my place to gainsay your wisdom.” As Horobei sheathed his sword, she led him off to where the column was poised to march.

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  Horses had been prepared for Horobei and his Chosen: Marching to his right was Himari as Captain of the Guard, and to his left was Chikao as his General. Behind them were Misao and Shizuku, who had taken roles as the Second and Third Chosen respectively. And behind them, almost three thousand men and women marched on foot to reclaim Kōtei no kyūsoku. He felt his heart swell, even as that tinge of fear hit. In only a few short hours, they would be standing in front of a castle he had not seen in half a decade. Would he have words to rally his people to saving it?

  As the castle quickly grew larger on the horizon, that fear burned into his chest like lava. Reality began to set in, and he felt his breathing quicken like he’d never felt before. It hit him suddenly that soon he was to be the inspiration for hundreds, maybe thousands of dead Samurai. The world began to shrink, his breathing became shallow.

  And then a hand on his right shoulder brought him back to the world. “Breathe, my Emperor,” Himari’s voice brought him back, and he couldn’t help but smile just a bit. “This is still the easy part. Keep your mind on the present and don’t worry about what may come.” He nodded at her words and looked forward. Her words weren’t exactly… comforting, but they did do the job of bringing him back into the moment. As the castle kept growing larger in their view, he was thankful for that.

  As the walls came into view, he forced himself to keep his eyes on the gates themselves. Thinking too hard on the long columns that stood before them was more than he could bear. Try as he might, however, eventually the grandeur of the thousands of troops standing between them and Kotei no kyūsoku could not be ignored. Ten columns of Samurai, each containing at least 300 men, stood between them in the city. And in front of them, two figures sat mounted, a white flag of parley held in one of their hands. To Horobei’s surprise, Makoto was not either of the mounted figures.

  As he, Himari, and Chikao road up to meet the parley, the sight of two men surprised him even more. The one holding the flag was an older man, perhaps as old as his father must have been before his death. His expression was impossible to read, but his eyes held a familiarity that Horobei could not quite place.

  The second was a younger man with a thin face and something of a snake-like demeanor. The grin on his face suggested a supreme confidence that held hard in his voice. “Ichiya Horobei-san,” his voice was acidic with disrespect. “So good of you to join us, young man. We of course eagerly accept your surrender and thank the Tenth Chosen for escorting you to us.”

  The temerity of his statement caught him so by surprise that words could not escape. When his response did not come after several seconds, it was Himari who responded before the man could. “Oda Jizomaru, former Third Chosen of Emperor Ichiya XL. I have escorted no one to you. I advise your immediate surrender to the forces of the True Emperor, that you may face fair judgment for your crimes.”

  Jizomaru opened his mouth to speak, but the older man’s hand rose. He looked at Himari impassively before speaking. “I had hoped that, perhaps, a better arrangement could be made. There is no love lost with Takahashi Makoto, but neither can I allow this unprepared boy to take the throne either.”

  “Second Chosen,” Himari said, before shaking her head. “No, Akashi-san. Why did you act against my Father? If you know that what Makoto has done is wrong, why have you thrown your lot in with her?”

  “I have nothing to answer you for, Himari-san. If you wish to prove me the villain your eyes see me as, then we will meet on the field of battle.” The former Second and Third turned and rode towards their army, and after only a moment of watching the trio did the same.

  Horobei looked at Himari curiously, but couldn’t take anything from her expression. She held a clear, focused gaze, and he couldn’t help but envy her being able to set aside whatever she might be thinking in the moment for what was going to come next.

  As they reached the column, Himari motioned to Misao to approach as she dismounted. “Misao-san, escort Horobei-sama to the back of the column, please. Make sure there are at least seven guards assigned to his person at all times.”

  “Himari-san,” he protested. “I cannot ask my people to die for me and stand behind them.”

  “My lord, your value to the Empire is too great to be risked here at the front.”

  “And the lives of my subjects are too important for me to not stand with them as they die for me.”

  He and Himari stared each other down for several long moments, before Misao chimed in. “If you might accept a suggestion,” he said cheerfully. “I think it might be wise to compromise on this. My Lord should not stand at the front of the Column, but placing him in the center of a reserve rank allows him to stand with his people while maintaining relative safety.”

  Himari looked at Misao thoughtfully. She nodded. “If my lord would accept that compromise, I would as well.”

  Horobei wanted to say no. Despite his deficiencies as a fighter, he felt it wrong somehow to hide in the back while someone else fought in his name. But he eventually nodded his head. “Very well. Himari-san, Chikao-san. I leave the army in your hands.”

  As he retreated to the reserve column with Misao, he could hear Chikao’s voice pour over the masses. He was effortlessly loud in a way he could not help but envy, and his voice was clear even as he made his way farther back.

  “Samurai! Into formations! Prepare tight ranks!” A tessen escaped his obi and flashed into the air, and the army began to move to prepare to meet Makoto’s. Banners flooded into winds, and footsteps drowned out any thought of anything but moving to be exactly where Horobei’s unit was meant to be. In the aftermath of their movement, a clear view of the field was visible. Horobei could see a red fox trot over to Himari and lean against her leg. Himari kneeled, apparently getting some sort of information from the lupine form.

  As she rose, Chikao nodded to her, and she turned to face their soldiers. She drew her shining blade and held it aloft, and her words carried effortlessly across the field.

  “For the Ichiya! For Seifu!”

  A cheer erupted from the army. Himari turned and pointed her blade at the enemy, and Chikao’s fan flashed forward. The armies charged forward in furious thunder.

  The battle for Seifu had begun.