Ch3: Army
When Gyousou turned of age nobody was surprised that he joined the I Provincial Army; indeed, had he taken up farming, mining, lumber jacking, or even hunting his relatives would have died of shock. For years he had spoken of nothing but turning soldier, and then officer. Many rolled their eyes, but Gyousou knew only those higher up could affect the state of the country with any significance, and felt confident he possessed the potential to go far.
Gyousou's confidence in himself was dampened a little by his mother dumping tons of medical supplies in his luggage and giving him stern lectures on behavior and recklessness. Nothing can make a man feel less like an impressive, revolutionary general than a fussy mother. Fortunately he had already thought ahead of his mother's reaction to her only child going off to 'romp up mountains poking around for brigands' and had made her bid farewell at home, where no one could bear witness to it. By the time he arrived at the recruitment camp he was not a son being told off but was every muscle a young ambitious warrior.
Basic training expanded his pre-existing knowledge and skills in wilderness survival, swordsmanship, tracking, and tactics. He studied it with a fervour the trainers commended as devotion and his groaning comrades murmured was fanatical, even obsessive. Without a doubt he was the cream of the newbies, and thus was assigned to a regiment in a dangerous region when his training period finished.
When Gyousou arrived at his post the entire regiment grumbled: green soldiers still sap-sticky from boot camp just were not assigned here. His commander warned him to expect tormenting, and Gyousou told the doubtful man (who was wording a scathing letter to the training master in his mind) that he could handle whatever was dished to him. That letter was shredded into small pieces and used as kindling after several fist fights sent men to the medical officer and Gyousou was assigned to latrine duty for a month as penitence. After that several more episodes occurred in which people needed medical assistance and Gyousou was given additional punishments, but he gained a reputation for zero tolerance for insults and wicked skill in any kind of combat. So the hazing subsided to mere isolation and warily muttered gossip.
A few of the men admired Gyousou's prickly pride, and these were assigned with him to patrol the west side of the mountain their bases was on. The west patrol had the most open terrain, little hedge growth, few caves, and only one real town, called Ancha, where everybody knew the name of everyone else and no crimes of any significance occurred. It was the perfect place to show the newbie the ropes without endangering anyone, particularly since massive gorges on either side made it virtually impossible for anything without wings to travel there from the more dangerous sides.
The north side was the steepest and was dotted with innumerable caves that harboured bandits, rebels, murderers, and even sometimes youma. Most of the regiment patrolled the north side, although the less experienced, injured, and incompetent were delegated to the east or south sides which were much more dangerous than the blissful west, though not nearly as dangerous as the inhospitable nest of villainy that was the north. One of Gyousou's comrades had been injured fighting a sanki in the north, and was glad for the relaxation the west provided. After more people grew comfortable around the no-longer-so-green icy haired man, Gyousou's healthy comrades were all moved to the north, leaving him with more recovering injured.
The commander, after a long year and a half dragged by, informed Gyousou he would move him to the east patrol on the next rotation. He had left him in that secure location for so long to absolutely ensure he didn't waste a promising youth because he wasn't adequately trained for all seasons and didn't know how to dodge in a deep snow drift, but Gyousou couldn't read minds and had chafed at the delay. It was just as Gyousou was mentally in a state of bidding peaceful Ancha farewell that he noticed it.
For weeks in the north a group of rebels lurked hidden in caves and attacked those who were patrolling, shouting demands to the government. The ever increasing casualties had partly been what prompted the commander to reassign the one able bodied person on the least dangerous side and fill the easy position with one of the injured. The west patrol was just making its last round of the day when Gyousou frowned,
"I can't see the lights from Ancha."
The others all groaned: their recovering injuries ached and all they wanted was to get back to the barracks. "Maybe a tree is blocking the view. Maybe they've already gone to bed. Come on, Saku, it's Ancha! Let's just go back."
After more than a year of patrolling the same area Gyousou had it memorized, and right where he was standing at this time of evening in October the town lights were visible like little gemstones sprinkles in the darkness. Except there was only the darkness.
"I'm going for a look. Who's coming?" In the end, only seven went with him. The rest opted for the warm barracks, a hot meal, and then bed. The seven who stayed all wore expressions that said 'let's get this over with and go back'.
Peering down at the blackened huddle of houses a man with his arm in a sling said, "OK, Saku, look, the town is still there. Let's go."
"There are people moving."
"Some kids sneaking out to visit their sweetheart, no doubt."
"They're not moving like that. More like they are carrying something heavy." The group sighed. Law enforcement was under the army, so if there was a robbery going on it was their duty to investigate it. Gyousou singled out a man with a sprained ankle, the one with a broken arm, and one whose left eye had been damaged by acid and was in a dubious state. "Kai, Nan, Meku! Come with me!"
Amid grumbles of 'who died and made him Commander-in-Chief' and the like, the group slunk into town.
There were definitely people moving large loads in the town; in fact, they were moving large barrels and crates from the communal winter storehouse. In a neighbouring house a curtain flicked showing a child's eyes before an adult's forearm snatched her away and drew the shades once more.
Beside him Meku tensed as another man bearing a barrel marked 'wine' walked out the storeroom. "That's the guy who dumped acid on us!"
Rebels. These were rebels. No wonder the townsfolk hid.
"We need to arrest them."
"No, we need to go for reinforcements!"
"There's not time!"
Gyousou took a deep breath, "Listen. Here's what we're going to do…"
Seiku revelled in the success while driving the wagon loaded with goods back. The heist had been planned for weeks and Ancha was a perfect location: bountiful (for Tai) and guarded only by soldiers they'd injured for just this purpose. The guard here was so lax they were able to make off with the stores without the army even noticing, which, though planned through weeks of carefully staking out the army shifts, only Seiku had believed would happen. A dozen different wagons with empty crates had been dispatched in all directions, but Seiku had been given the task of driving the loaded wagon. He felt this meant he was being relied on, though in fact it was actually a mix-up. Seiku was actually meant to be a decoy, driving an empty wagon along the same road to be stopped ahead if there were any soldiers patrolling, letting the real wagon escape. No one trusted him to be able to keep up the front of having the stolen goods if he drove an empty one, so the rebels planned to convince Seiku otherwise, but he had noticed he was 'accidentally' directed to an empty wagon and switched to the real loaded one.
Two figures ahead on the road caught his eye, and Seiku pulled the horses to a halt. One had his arm wrapped around the other as he walked unsteadily and belted out loud, off-key tunes drunkenly. It occurred to Seiku if these two realized something was amiss and went to alert the army there might be conflict yet, and in that possible conflict some of the supplies might be damaged. That wouldn't do; in Tai every last grain of rice is a matter of life or death.
"Hey! Whatcha doing out so late!"
The unsteady one laughed, "Whatcha! Watchin' 'n' caught 'cha! Whatcha yerself!"
The other fellow elbowed him, "Shut up, nii-san!" Turning to Seiku he huffed, "Pay no mind to my idiot brother! Because he never come home last night I spends the day looking and wheres I finds him? At the bottle! You knows what he says to me, who spended all day alooking? He says…"
"Where are you headed?"
"Well, now, that's just the problem! We's supposed to be aheading back home to Kan, staying the night in Hanchu," Hanchu was a cluster of houses a day's walk away, Kan a hamlet three days away. "but no! Me brother just had to home awand'ring and adrinking! Now we's out at this cold hour and nowhere nearby to spend the night 'cept Ancha, no matter that it's outta our way!"
That wouldn't do at all. They'd taken a couple of citizens of Ancha hostage to avoid them running for the army, but strangers might not care about the captives. "You know what, I happen to be driving towards Kan, why don't you hitch a ride with me?"
The sober peasant bowed. "If yeh don' mind, I'll take you up on that mighty kind offer!"
As the two climbed aboard Seiku caught the pungent smell of alcohol radiating off the man who stepped up uneasily, and the whole ride the man sang out drunkenly, only stopping when his brother yelled at him, and it occurred to Seiku this was perfect camouflage: no one would expect a sneaky rebel getaway vehicle to be making this racket.
Nonetheless, when well into the next day Seiku pulled his carriage to the side of the forked road leading to Kan he was glad to be rid of the bickering brothers. The still intoxicated (had he stolen some of their wine?) one leapt from the wagon and, stumbling over the uneven ground, landed in a crevice. Swearing, his brother ran over.
"He's done something funny to it!" Even Seiku could tell the blotchy skin was no good. It would need treatment.
He hesitated, but the last thing he wanted was for the two to be stranded on the road, as abandoning them now would look suspicious. He'd told the sober man, Boku Sou, that he was a peddler and planned to uphold that deception. "I have some customers in the woods nearby; I'll leave you two here and grab some bandages."
His companions at the base quizzed him, "You sure they didn't see which way you went? If they tell someone…"
He scoffed, "With all those trees? I'm telling you, one is dead drunk and causing so much ruckus the other wouldn't notice if I drove them right into the cave!"
Had they known he drove the real supply wagon they would have quizzed him more, but as it was they let him go to get rid of the unwanted strangers.
Seiku, catching sight of the two, shook his head that anyone would be suspicious of these simpletons, even just going on report alone. The younger brother bound the leg tightly and profusely thanked Seiku for all his help. The two set off down the fork leading to Kan, and Seiku headed back to his safehouse. After all, there was still a load of winter supplies to move to their main hideout. It's not like being a rebel ever put food on the table.
After Seiku was no longer visible and the churning of the wheels faded into the distance the 'drunk' man let out a moan,
"Man, Saku, that impact hurt worse than I thought! I told you we should have just gone with the fall-over-while-walking-drunkenly idea!"
Gyousou glared at Kai. "There's no way you'd still be drunk enough to walk off a ledge! We should be thankful that guy didn't question how you could possibly not have sobered up yet!"
"He was pretty thick. He didn't notice you following him, did he?"
"Him? Are you kidding?"
For that had been the plan. There was not a way to stop the rebels, but Gyousou had sent Nan to alerts the other three and Meku to report to the base, then disguised himself and Kai, and poured alcohol all over the latter. Then they hurried down the road the loaded wagon was poised on while the rebels finished their loading and intercepted it believably far enough from Ancha that they wouldn't have wanted to walk there. At the same time the other four 'borrowed' horses from Ancha (where it hopefully would be overlooked when they were returned with the food) and rode hidden in the hedge growth and dark, following the noise Kai made and, when Kai's voice grew tired, Gyousou's 'lectures'. Then, when Seiku neared his hideout and tried to get rid of them, Kai would 'hurt' his already twisted ankle (the real reason for the unsteady walking) and Gyousou would follow Seiku to the hide out.
After that the other four kept watch on the safe house, and when the supplies were transported they located the main hideout. By then the rest of the regiment had arrived, and they directed them to the rebel base. In the surprise attack most of the rebels were killed or captured, and the stores returned to Ancha.
Gyousou expected his success would have won him a place on the north patrol, and was unfazed when he was promoted to leading the patrols. What he hadn't expected, though gladly accepted, was a place offered to him in the Oushi shortly thereafter as an officer.