“Stay close to me, and you won’t,” he said. “Accept that you may be wounded or killed, and you will be free to concentrate on the moment. In battle, there is only the moment. Besides, I can see your future.”

“You can?”

“Certainly,” said the captain. “You will fight outstandingly well. Lord Ankan will mention your name in dispatches to Lord Nobunaga, and Lord Nobunaga will petition the Emperor to make you a samurai—though the petition will be more like an order.”

Jimmu did not reply.

Captain Muraki is wrong, he thought. I don’t have a future. When Choju Ankan’s life ends, so will mine.

14 - HAMAMATSU CASTLE TOTOMI PROVINCE

14

HAMAMATSU CASTLE TOTOMI PROVINCE

WINTER 1572

Late in the afternoon of the next day, Lord Ankan and his men arrived at Hamamatsu. The fortress was not as impressive as Mitsukage Castle, though it was larger, and its central keep was more imposing. Outside the walls stood a small town of tents.

Jimmu had never seen so many soldiers in one place, and was staggered. Wherever he turned he saw strutting samurai—some with personal attendants—companies of spearmen drilling, musketeers carrying their weapons on their shoulders, archers and infantrymen. Messengers with silk pennants attached to the back plates of their armor galloped in all directions.

Jimmu began to appreciate the power of a great lord.

“How can Tokugawa Ieyasu control so many?” he gasped.

“He can’t,” said Captain Muraki. “Lord Ieyasu controls the generals, who control the captains, and so on right down to the men who drive the packhorses. That’s why soldiers are drilled so often. It teaches them to act together. Without discipline, an army turns into a mob.”

“But with so many different commanders, don’t you get mixed up about who you’re fighting?” said Jimmu.

Captain Muraki laughed.

“The enemy is easily identified,” he said. “His soldiers are the ones who are trying to kill you.”

Lord Ankan selected a site for his men to set up camp, then rode inside Hamamatsu to confer with Lord Ieyasu and his generals.

At dusk, the lights of the camp stretched into the distance like a galaxy of orange stars. The air was pungent with the scent of woodsmoke. Jimmu and Captain Muraki took their evening meal together, and were joined by Sergeant Hankei.

“I’ve never known such a place for rumors!” asserted the sergeant. “We’ve only been here an hour or so, but I’ve already heard that the Takeda have given up and gone home, that Lord Ieyasu has been slain by an assassin, and that Lord Nobunaga is on his way with an army of fifty thousand.”

“Which story do you believe?” Jimmu asked.

“None of them!” snorted Sergeant Hankei. “Before a battle, you hear all sorts of wild tales. Most of the rumors are spread by enemy spies, hoping to undermine morale.”

“And our spies are in the Takeda camp, doing the same thing,” Captain Muraki added.