After that afternoon"s powerful training scene, Gengyo had picked up his brush with conviction, and did not need to pause to think what he might be writing. Straight into the potted ink it went, and he dashed a series of lines and then characters onto the parchment. Within moments he"d made his thoughts clear, and he held it up in the candlelight, gently blowing on the ink to dry it.
The room that he"d fas.h.i.+oned himself was deep within the bowels of the palace, down as deep as the wine cellars. It was always cool down there, despite the heat of the outside. At times, if anything, it was too cool, but he much preferred the cold, it allowed him to think straight. It made him alert, and when he was alert he was confident.
When he disappeared, not even his wife knew where he went. This was his secret little hideout. A place where he could go for complete disconnect. He liked places like that, with a sort of enforced loneliness, and he often sought them out when he needed to make an important decision.
Akiko would complain at times and say, "there"s no need to run away from things. I"m your wife – I"m here to support you. If you need quiet, you had only need tell me to be quiet."
He would always smile when she said that. Sometimes he would attempt to explain, but most often, he would distract her with a kiss, and tap her nose with his finger playfully, before disappearing just as he had intended.
And now the important matter was one Oda n.o.bunaga, the young Lord. In this lifetime, he"d already done well enough for himself. He"d restabilized the Oda province, and rid himself of those with questionable loyalties. He"d tried his hand at expansion against the Saito, but had not yet managed it. That was not to overlook his exceptional victory at Okehazama, made slightly less exceptional by the efforts of Gengyo. n.o.bunaga had achievements to his name, and confidence in his own ability, in there lay a problem.
When Gengyo had shown n.o.bunaga good will back in their encampment and proposed a military alliance, he was sure that he understood n.o.bunaga"s nature, and his urge to expand. Just like a bear needed territory, warlords needed to conquer. He thought that he could tame him, at least for a while, by offering him that chance to seize further power.
But their most recent correspondences had betrayed a lack of enthusiasm in n.o.bunaga"s words. He was bringing a measly amount of men to support their campaign. Men that Gengyo felt would still be inferior to his own. He would not deserve the promised provinces with such a measly contribution.
His letter hadn"t stated that directly. He"d made sure his words did not contain too much irritation, but there was definitely a commanding tone to them. He"d ordered that they meet, before they set out into Kai, so they could discuss the campaign further. Gengyo had decided that if n.o.bunaga failed to produce results there, then he"d have to find another way of dealing with him.
He reread his writings, and nodded with satisfaction, rolling up the parchment and binding it with string and his wax seal. He set it back down on the desk that he"d brought down into that dark room himself, and drummed his fingers on the table. A candle was flickering just in front of him, and that was the only source of light he had. Black spiders and thick cobwebs sat in the corner of the room, and occasionally a rodent – be it mouse or rat – would scurry past his feet.
It would be another week before he set out with his men to begin his campaign. He"d arranged for them to meet at a temple on the border of their two provinces for a tea ceremony two days before they departed. He hoped that would give them enough time to iron it out.
He arose from his seat, blowing out the dying candle, plunging the room into a deep darkness. He pushed his letter into his sleeve and made for the door, but as he was about to slide it open, a noise in the darkness made him pause.
Footsteps. They started up as soon as he stood up, slowly creeping away, the wooden sandals betraying their wearer. Gengyo had a blade at his hip. He felt no fear. He flung the door open, and ran past barrels of wine and jugs of sake to pursue them.
It was just as dark outside his room. It was late into the night and the torches were out – no one had any business being down there. The footsteps sped up, fleeing as fast as they could having realized he was pursuing them.
His eyes were adjusting to the darkness now, and he could see a human shape up ahead. He was gaining on it, and fast. They would reach the ladder soon. There was no escape.
He was close enough to hear their heavy breathing when he reached out to grab them, holding his blade to their throat, as a woman"s perfume filled his nostrils.
"Please!" The voice begged, terrified.
"Yukio?" Gengyo said with a frown, recognizing the serving woman"s voice. "Who sent you? The Hojo? The Oda? Speak!"
"I"m sorry…" the woman whimpered, her tears dropping onto the blade of the sword. "Lady Akiko asked me to find out where you go… I know it was wrong… Please… Please don"t kill me."
There was a silence for a few moments as Gengyo stood there stunned. He had expected a far more malicious reason than that. His whole body was primed and ready. That was then he realized, deep down, he had expected that someone would betray him.
"...Yukio. Don"t let me find you own here again, do you hear?" Gengyo said, following a sigh.
"Yes! Yes! I promise I"ll never come back! I"m sorry!" Yukio said pa.s.sionately, her voice cracking.
"Go on now," Gengyo released her, sighing once again, suddenly feeling rather tired indeed.