12. The Strategy

To the locals, uneducated in samurai lore and tradition, the township of Minami was just another samurai fort, raised by the Minamoto shogunate or one of its corrupt district officials after the first great war. It was a town overshadowed by mountains which lacked the heavenly divinity of Fuji further south, and the town was on a steep rise which was tiresome to trudge up to. The fact that it had been occupied by so many armies of so many different loyalties meant very little to them. For they, although being just mere farmers and herders of cattle, had also been under the yoke of many of these oppressive and unrighteous rulers whose design was to work them to death and live off the land. So now that the great Lord Sesuke Asano had arrived to the fort of his great brother the Lord Kira Asano, it was an event of token significance, not worth missing a days' work in the field.

But to the Asanos and their retainers, fleeing the wrath of the Emperor and feeling rebellious, Minami was only place left to hold out from the Emperor's lap-dogs. A predecessor of Kira Asano (but not of the line of the great and noble Lord Asano) had seized the town from the Minamotos close to a hundred years ago in a civil uprising, and had successfully defended it from all attack. It was a place of family pride and honour, the summer lodging of all the Asano great Lords before conflict with the royal family began.

It was also a place of strategic importance to the Asanos. Situated atop a rise and cut off by mountains to the north and east, it would take an army of thousands to lumber up to cast a stone at the main gate. Then there were the ramparts: brick, stone and wooden stakes stacked up as high as five men, all hauled up from the plains below on the backs of villagers and the Asanos' loyal subjects. And beyond that, the inner stronghold, surrounding a majestic keep where generations of Asano nobles and lords had retained their family heritage. A diverted spring provided water directly into the keep, which dominated the township of just over two thousand smaller dwellings, all grateful and indebted subjects to the merciful Asanos.

But most of all, Minami stood at the fringe of the Emperor's influence, watching over an intersection of trade routes. One led south to the divine Fuji and the rapidly expanding town of Yedo. The other led northeast, to the rugged mountains and lawless country of the Kaga, where gods, spirits and demons were said to dwell alongside animals and the fabled Emishi tribes. These were lands where there was no clear, absolute justice, save those at the hands of an Asano follower.

So when Kira returned to his family's hometown, followed by Sesuke just ten days later, Minami and the surrounding plains were flooded with over three thousand samurai loyal to the Asano family. Most lodged in Minami, but the combined armies of Kira and Sesuke overflowed, and soon a sort of military rule had been established in the nearby countryside. Farmers, at the cost of their lives, were ordered to supply food, rice, lodging and their daughters.

While within Minami, Kira and Sesuke were plotting their next move. The weapons Jigo used were effective, they thought and debated, it would do well for us to employ them to fight the Emperor. We will buy ten thousand units from the Chinese and Portuguese through our contacts, they mused. But in the meantime, where was the caravan?


Seventeen days after Lord Kira returned to his hometown, a group of men were spotted at the edge of the forests, making their way to Minami. The local officer, whose job was to report incursions of imperial samurai, was anxious at first, but when he saw ragged, broken caravans bloated with women and wounded, he immediately sent word to his commanders at Minami.

For the first time in days it had stopped snowing, although the ground and the air was still freezing. As Jigo led his rag-tag army of samurai and wounded soldiers through the empty fields, he was accompanied by Daizen, still riding with a semblance of pride on his horse. But the villagers and farmers rushed out to see the sight of the third and final column of survivors of war.

It was certainly no joke to see an abbot riding at the head of a column before a samurai commander, but the third column was unusually distinct from the rest: seven lumbering samurai were clustered around what appeared to be a noble lady and her hand servant. The hand servant was without argument a leper, but he looked in fine fighting condition, and against all the customs the rulers of this land had brought upon them, he bore a fire cannon shoulder-slung. The noble lady was badly cut on her arms and face, but unlike the fawning consorts of the Asanos, she carried herself like a samurai, broad-shouldered and straight-backed.

One of the samurai with her bore an ancestral name flag, only reserved for distinguished samurai, with the characters 'Eboshi'.

And at once, in their custom to support officers returning from a just and noble war, the villagers offered their victuals.

"Lady Eboshi," and Aiyo recoiled slightly at being given a title, "Have this melon to nourish you on your way, for you must have had a long journey."

They kept their distance from her leper friend, but Aiyo took the melon from the villager and offered it to him, and he took it gladly. Seventeen days of travel in the wilderness had made her tired, worn-out, wishing for the soft linen of a bed that was not made of rock. She could hardly feel the sores at the bottom of her feet, and her breath was raspy from the cold air. The left sleeve of her robes was soiled and ragged, bearing the marks of slain samurai blood; one of the samurai walked immediately at her left side to protect her from possible indecency. The wound on her forehead still stung.

But she was a changed person. The blade she took from the imperial samurai she clutched tightly in her right hand as she walked – a gesture deemed too manly and hostile by many of the villagers. She regarded their stares as natural; she was in no mood to speak to anyone except Sesuke now.

Keeping her mind on the long winding path ahead, the first sight of the Minami fort did take her breath away, but then she realised it was such a fitting picture of the Asano's control and domination. And she visually tried to see the effort it would take to get up there.

Accompanied by her unusual train, she surmounted the challenge of the hill. More villagers, abandoning their work, drawn by the traditional curiosity of a woman leading men, gathered as they precariously trudged up towards the gates. Blankly enduring another gauntlet, the guards at the gate of Minami threw open the barricaded doors to welcome them. But she swore she had to be dreaming – how could she have scaled that blasted hill so fast, with so many people watching, with Sesuke and that handsome leech Kira now almost within the reach of her blade…

Even before she could drive the dizziness of the long journey from her head, the drama began afresh.

"My lord and protector!"

Daizen commenced with the predictable bootlicking: off his horse, he was on his knees, his blade aside in a sign of respectful obedience, and as he did obeisance to Sesuke, he made sure every one of his seven bows was complete. His men, viewing his example did the same.

Watching the events, she steadied herself against one of her men. She was tired, but hoping to be as every bit as defiant to Sesuke as possible. She heard a familiar sigh; the abbot slipped beside her, his gaze serious.

"If you wish to be rebellious, do remember that you're still a retainer. Or to be more precise, a dead retainer's ronin sister," Jigo told her softly. "Sesuke may have liked your brother, but there's no guarantee he'll show you similar favour, and that's if he deems you legitimate enough."

She recalled their conversation on the slopes, just days before reaching Minami. "I'll keep in mind your advice, Jigo," she replied, dropping the customary address, "but if I need your help, I know who to look for. You don't need to worry about me."

It was Jigo's turn to be received by Sesuke, as the men and samurai exchanged warm and exuberant greetings at being reunited. He turned to mouth to her: "Choose your allies, pick your fights well."

Her eyes were still playing hide-and-seek with the scenery; she brushed it off as having too little to eat, and too little rest over their exodus. Her leper friend eyed her as she wobbled, but she steadied herself on his shoulder.

When Sesuke reached her, flanked by Kira, Daizen and dozen other of his trusted retainers, she broke into a humble bow. "My Lord Sesuke," she greeted him. "Lord Asano of Minami."

As it was customary, Kira ordered her to rise, and they had a good look at her and her followers. And as it was again customary, Sesuke was to inquire about the state of their journey.

She could predict the first line to come out of his mouth.

"Hiojo has fallen?" he asked her directly.

A brief interlude of speech, but she picked up where the silence left them: "Yes, my Lord. He died from his injuries after being wounded. We buried him in a wood many days from here. May his soul rest in peace."

"And you are the last one left of the house of Eboshi?" he asked again.

She drew a deep breath. "Yes, my Lord. And I pledge my allegiance, my life and my sword to you as long as I have breath to serve the house of a thousand samurai."

She still had enough courage to stare at Sesuke in the eye; Kira's face was swirling in the near foreground. She could sense that her pledge was rolling and fighting its way through to Sesuke's reason.

Given his absolute power, he could have done anything he wanted, short of quartering her and those who had come to admire her resilience, and end the story right in front of the gates of Minami. But instead, he made a decision which would unleash the fury of the young woman standing before him.

"Very well," he answered. "From now on, she shall serve this house as her family had done, as a lady in service, and perhaps more."

The hint was not lost on Aiyo, who with her title and her men, was going to follow the path she told Jigo about.

"Surely you don't need a leper in your service," one of the samurai with Kira asked her, as Sesuke and his train left for the fort.

"His name is Osa," she retorted, "and he will be in my service as long as he is alive."

The samurai grunted, unhappy but not willing to argue.

"Besides I think he can fight much better than you."


It was one thing to be a lady-in-waiting of a great family by name, another to be escorted to her quarters by maidservants. She had become the female equivalent of her brother, or perhaps slightly higher. She took a breath, relishing the vague pleasure, but still caught by the unsettling sensation of kneeling by her dead brother's grave, not mourning, not delirious. Just – unsettled.

She clutched her brother's short blade, which he had been so proud to bear twenty years earlier when the Asanos had set their feet into their house. Bound together with the blade she had snatched from the dead samurai, she stared out beyond the boundaries of the Minami fort. The fog drenched mountains in the east were both singing a requiem and calling out to her.


She needed to get accustomed this new responsibility. Rank in this dynasty comes with duty, Osa had joked with her. It brought to mind he was probably a samurai too before he became crippled with the deadly disease.

She could do whatever she wanted as Hiojo's sister in Nara, but here at the edge of the empire, it was her job as a lady in service to be present at the gatherings of Asano and his lesser samurai. She knew her constant goings-in were monitored by the retainers and select few who kept charge of Asano's household affairs. Even at these meetings, while she knew Sesuke would not bother with her, she felt he was unintentionally throwing her an opportunity by allowing her to be present.

She was looking for an opening – a hole of weakness – anything which would let her play her card or give her the opportunity to even the score. Even if she needed to follow Asano to the ends of the earth, she would rather die seeking vengeance.

As in the previous meetings of Sesuke and his generals, there was the common warmongering, the fruitless discussions of how to subjugate more villagers to the east and the rumours of rumours of the Emperor's motives. Idiots pointing fingers while we sit and watch, Hiojo used to tell her. Asano's real loyal servants were the retainers and families bonded by blood and history. True. She fronted the mass of yukata-clad men and women no one would suspect as loyal retainers of the great Lord of Thousand Samurai.

She mentally sat contemplating each swig of information; she knew her position, while just recently secure, was a promise, but she was waiting for a chance which might leak out from this pointless babbling that she could exploit for her greater good.

"The Emperor's samurai were spotted at the edge of Soriba again…"
"I recommend that we move out to the village beyond the Minami slopes. By occupying that point, we could prevent further rebellion…"

"Samurai must not abandon their traditions just for this new trend or strategy…"
Sesuke only paid attention to anything that was remotely linked to the Emperor because, as she noticed, the man was securely afraid of the Emperor's trickery. Listening to reports after reports of movements and skirmishes of the two armies, he continued to brood over his harem of commanders, his eyes flickering as much as the tapers burning themselves to the ground, and the consistent fluttering of servants coming in to replace them.

"Sesuke, I'm in favour of spreading our forces out. We cannot concentrate all our men in Minami, especially when just one attack will wipe us all out," went Kira. He was the only one who dared call Sesuke by name. "If we move to east, we stay hidden from the Emperor's spies and scouts for at least a few more years."

"My lord, with all due respect," one of the commanders said, "we have nowhere in the east to retreat to. There is nothing but lawless country and other warlords fighting for whatever land they can hold on to."

"My lord," went another general, "there are numerous mines of iron in the east we can use for building our fire cannons. It is well worth the risk."

"You don't know anything of the east country!" another snapped. "We will be torn to shreds!"

"Then you would wait here for death then?"

"At least I didn't flee like a dog when I was supposed to fight!"

As the meeting began to descend into another bout of arguments, the group of retainers patiently waited for either Sesuke or Kira to flex their power. It was her job not to worry about politics, but servitude and obeisance. Yet the two lords of Nara and Minami watched the bickering commanders trade insults and curses with an air of semi-conscious indifference. Whether or not they seemed to be contemplating the voices she let her mind wander. She had remembered something the Abbot Jigo said about the east land:

An empty barren chain of mountains and lakes and forests, where gods, demons and spirits lived with disturbed men who dared to set foot within their sacred territory.

Even when the Abbot had muttered these words, she dismissed them as superstitions unfit for a man of religion (but Jigo was hardly a man of religion anyhow). The forbidden great wilderness to the east was just a fog's breath outside the paper screened window of her quarters. It was there;and she knew it had a mysterious voice, a mountain step to allow her to achieve her aspirations, a summit fit only for vengeance.

Then unexpectedly, Sesuke echoed her very thoughts:

"Don't think I'm afraid of old wives' tales," he said, his tone was commanding and firm this time. "I don't fear spirits and gods or whatever ghosts invented by mothers to scare their children."

Well said, she thought. But can you live up to your words?

"My lord, think of the men, think of their morale and their families and their weariness," one general stood up to say. "They will not survive another expedition after the flight from Nara…"
It was Sesuke's turn to get to his feet. "If my men of war are not willing, then you can stay here and baby-sit Minami. My loyal servants and myself will carve a kingdom out from the mountains."

His gaze flickered over to her, lingered for a second, before he overlooked her response to seek his other supporters among his retainers. His gaze was no longer the thoughtful, sedated one he wore through the entire gathering; there was a fierce twist to the great Lord's pensive stare, more ruthless and hungry than ever. The same look, she realised, when he drove his blade through his ignorant elder brother.

"Long live the Lord of a thousand samurai!" someone yelled behind her.

"Long live Lord Asano!"

She stood still, not shouting nor standing. But before she knew it, there was the clatter of drawn blades and all Sesuke held that look as he swept out of the room, his presence billowing behind him.

There was no need for any signal: this was it.


"What can you tell me about the deep east land?"

It seemed almost like a reflex action, but her right hand was always at her sheath, poised to draw Hiojo's short blade. Right now, as she sat among people who Osa guaranteed were friends and trustworthy, she was observing all their actions – both counting cost and pulling strings.

She had never thought allowing Osa to carry the Eboshi family blade would have so much significance. Perhaps years ago she had heard passing stories of a man, who had washed his followers' feet to show his love for them, as completely unthinkable. Now she was finding this ruse to allow Osa to hold her blade something like it. But the idea itself was suggested by Osa. "If they see me holding your sword for you, maybe they would see you differently. They would see you instead of your brother," he proposed.

There was some truth about it: Hiojo never let the blade out of his sight, much less allow any of his minions to lay a finger on it.

It was about time she gathered the followers and the retainers of the Eboshi clan; after all, her family was a samurai family, similarly served by a hierarchy of lesser fighters, mercenaries and bondmen. She knew that Hiojo had a handful, but now that she met them all, she counted almost twenty, several of whom she had become acquainted with on the trek from Nara. So now, with them all watching and jolted by the change of leadership in the family, it was time for her little charade.

The first thing her men saw when they came into view was her serenity: seated, cross-legged on the floor, behind the stooping table, a blade and a fire cannon placed cleanly across it. Her face was restored to the blank stare it on once gave, long time ago, on the dirty streets of Kyoto. Whatever regalia she wore as a lady of her lord's house was reflected in her robes. And Osa, his face heavily bandaged, stood beside her, clutching the Eboshi sword – he looked like a man with a walking stick instead of a loyal follower.

"Your loyal servants pay you obeisance, my lady," one samurai greeted her. She recognized him as a scarred, battle-worn retainer who had fled from Nara with her. After finishing his customary bow however, she caught him flinging a sideways glance at Osa, before returning to the men standing before her.

They were just over a dozen. But according to Osa, many were trustworthy and worth the trouble. To her, they were more like thugs.

"Lord Asano is gathering men for a conquest. As a loyal lady in his household, I am bound to follow," she spoke to them. "But the journey is going to be more dangerous than our exodus here. Many of you already know, he wants to go east and built his domain among those in the far east. So, what can you tell me of the deep east land?"

Her followers looked at each other, as if they had been asked a trick question. A man whose face was bound with cloth just like Osa, stood up, and replied, "My lady, there are towns and villages just beyond these mountains where people like far from any kind of rule. But further east there is nothing but forest and mountains…"

"Has anyone been there before? I don't wish to here the same rumours everyone tells Lord Asano," she cut him off.

There was another man, a scrawny figure, whose head was always lowered. The only sign that he was addressing her was the sudden straightening of his back, and he spoke carefully: "My lady, excuse our ignorance. Few of bus have the courage to venture far from these villages and towns. But for those who do, we don't speak much of it."

"Then you know something? Tell me then. Rest assured. I will believe you no matter how crazy it might sound."

"Far west, there is a great forest which is so thick that there is no place for a man to put his feet. It is so vast that it fills the whole of Japan with trees from these mountains till the sea of Hokkaido. Within this forest, the Emishi dwell, protected by mountains of iron and black rock.

"But in the centre of this forest is a realm long forgotten by man. It is the domain of all gods and spirits of nature. And the animals and creatures there are monsters who have reigned there since the beginning of the world. They are invincible. No man can slay them, and they kill whoever steps in their territory."

She was still skeptical. "Have you seen them? Have you fought any of these monsters?"

"No, my Lady."

"Then in that case, it's very simple," she said confidently. "Who will follow me to see if this man here is telling the truth?"

Again they all took a moment to register her words. It seemed as if she had thrown a huge taunt to them and their courage. In the immediate wake of her request, all her retainers, save the man who she had questioned, remained in their positions of obeisance. Or, at least, in her perspective, a state of reduced shame.

Then, Osa stepped forward, drew the blade he was so prominently holding and declared: "This blade and its owner fears no death or god. Only dishonour."

And sure enough, with the clack of strained joints, the tingle of blades against their sheaths and the shuffling of feet, men stood up slowly, like a cloud of dust amassing before her. It was not too long before everyone was on their feet, a willful obedience in their eyes accompanied by a jealous envy that a cursed man was also taunting them.

She smiled softly. This little stunt worked pretty well. The fire-cannon and the flint in her other hand felt warm. But nothing gives a greater curse than this instrument, she thought, not knowing how true her intentions would become.


Notes: It's been 7 months since I last updated. Apparently the inspiration I get is very short-lived, because this supposedly simple chapter was extremely hard to churn out. Its purpose is to show how Eboshi moves up the ranks, and starts to command some influence. She is not at her peak yet (that I will illustrate in another chapter), but this is the prelude to – if I can put my thoughts into words – the great conflict between her and Princess Mononoke.

Between December 2006 and July 2007, a lot of stuff has happened which has partly thrown my writing off track a bit. I've ORD-ed from the Police; I'm no longer an officer, having served my 2 years of national service as of Feb 12 (2 months earlier for being operationally fit). A lot of the first portion of the story, which sounds much better, was written in March, while I was working as temp admin at a pharmaceutical company. However, I've switched jobs: I'm now part of the service crew at a Japanese Yakitori Restaurant called Sumi Yakitori (B2 Centrepoint, Orchard Road, for those Singaporeans). If you've worked in a restaurant before, you'll know it takes up all of your time. So I've been struggling through this chapter, finding time between my long-distance trainings, helping out at church and many other commitments.

On Aug 6, I start university at the national university of Singapore (NUS). I'm studying Arts & Social Sciences, not sure what I'm going to major in yet.

Thanks for those who've taken the trouble to review (including the flamer).