Kenichi rode by Mitsuhide’s side as the combined Kuroda and Bitou forces made for Hirozaka Castle. The daimyo chatted with the young boy as though he were his own son. He told tales of his many exploits in battle, bragged about the multiple women he’d bedded, and continued to shower the boy with words of praise and encouragement. In turn, Kenichi told Mitsuhide about the multiple sword masters he’d trained with recently, and how he could easily defeat boys twice his size.

“Noboru has done a wonderful job raising you,” Mitsuhide continued his barrage of praise. “I sure wish I had a son like you.”

“You don’t have any children, sir… uh… Mitsuhide?” It was common knowledge that he didn’t, but the boy was just being polite.

“Sadly, no. I adopted a son, once, but he died in battle against the very enemy we’re going up against today.”

Kenichi’s eyebrows raised. “The Yashiro killed your son?”

“My adopted son, yes. I found him on the streets and took him in, raised him as my own. Such a good boy, Yasutaka was. He was destined for great things. But then he was killed during a Yashiro raid on our farming lands. Monsters, they are.”

Saika bit her tongue. Yasutaka had been adopted, forcibly, from one of Mitsuhide’s vassals because the daimyo had taking a liking to the boy’s penchant for violence. He was killed by soldiers when attempting to rape a woman in Yashiro lands.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Kenichi replied.

“Yes, terrible. But who knows, perhaps one day I might adopt you as well! Such a fine boy as yourself, I would be lucky to call you my son. Think of it, you could rule over both the Bitou and Kuroda lands, such a vast territory under your control, and yours alone.”

Kenichi said nothing, but Mitsuhide continued to smile lecherously at him.

The pearl Kenichi had given her the previous night pressed against Saika’s breast. She played with it mindlessly, scanning their surroundings. Everything was quiet, the only sound that of the combined forces of Kuroda and Bitou marching forth.

All this time Noboru had known. Who she was. What she was. He had known and he had gotten close to her and even when things soured between them he kept her secret and continued to treat her well. Why? Why would he do that? How had he known? Saika prided herself on uncovering other people’s secrets, not having her own found out. Now he was dying and she was here with his son, his son who looked so much like him, his son who had no idea what was coming and wasn’t ready for the world he was being forced into. He was dying and and she would never be able to ask him how he had known, or why he had said nothing all these years. It tore at her heart.

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At the very least, Saika would do whatever she could to protect his children. She had promised him that she would bring Ayane home. She fully intended to keep that promise. She made a silent vow to do whatever she could to protect Kenichi as well. For the time being Mitsuhide would do nothing, he would merely start grooming the boy, but a war was coming. Not just a fight between clans over land or resources or power, but an internal war between brother and sister. There could be no winner there.

Saika hoped beyond hope that Noboru would live long enough that such a war would never come to pass. If she could get to Ayane quick enough, if she could bring her back in time, all of this could be avoided.

“The path ahead is clear, sir! Not a soldier in sight from here to the castle.” One of the scouts had returned, relaying what he had seen.

“Excellent. Thank you. You know, Kenichi, I was about your age when I fought in my first battle.” He turned to look at the boy beside him, smiling. “I was not quite as tall or broad of shoulder as you are, but I held my own.”

“Which battle was that, sir?”

“Mitsuhide.”

“Sorry…”

“Anyway, I do believe that was the great battle of Aogawa, between my father and the then daimyo of Kaya province, Shiroyama Ryunosuke.”

“You mean Shiroyama Daisuke’s father?”

“Yes, the one and only. He and my father were long-time rivals. The Shiroyama, you see, claim descent from the emperor many centuries ago. They’re a very proud and noble people, extremely touchy about their lineage. To this day they claim their ancestor, the emperor’s brother, was the true heir and through deceit he was tricked out of his throne.”

“I… didn’t know that,” Kenichi replied.

“Spend five minutes with a Shiroyama and you soon will. Anyway, my father claimed no such royal descent, merely through hard work and carefully built connections did our clan rise to power, and after a little disagreement about which clan owned a certain river, well our families went to war.”

“Who won?”

“We did, of course!” Mitsuhide smiled. “Aogawa now proudly runs through Toshiga province, providing my people with both beauty and a wealth of resources. The Shiroyama went running home with their tails between their legs, their borders tightened, and it was that day I had my first true taste not just of battle, but of victory in battle. You need to fight not just for the sake of it, my boy, but for a reason. For your people. For your family. For their long term prosperity.”

Mitsuhide sure had a way of putting a spin on things, Saika thought. She couldn’t wait until she was done with the man, but unfortunately she had to put up with him a little longer. She still had a job to do.

“Yes, my boy,” Mitsuhide patted Kenichi on the shoulder, “today is sure to be a glorious day! The Yashiro won’t know what hit them!”