Once they were past the battlefield, the raiding party swung to the east of the Takeda camp. The sweep of the enemy’s watch fires was awe-inspiring.

Lord Ankan gathered the men around him, out of earshot of the Takeda guards. He spoke quietly, but distinctly.

“No battle cries, no dueling, and no prisoners,” he said. “Our aim is not to gain glory, but to provoke the maximum disruption. Scatter fires, loose horses, and disappear into the night. Try to stay in groups. If you find yourself alone, return immediately to Hamamatsu. Above all, don’t allow yourself to be captured.” Lord Ankan drew his sword. “Attack!” he hissed.

The Takeda were taken unawares. Jimmu cut down a perimeter guard before the man could lower his spear. He plucked a brand from the watch fire and used it to set ablaze the silk tent of a samurai.

More tents burst into flames, like fiery flowers opening their petals. Men ran half asleep, or died attempting to rise from slumber. Horses galloped wildly, their eyes rolling in fear. The Tokugawa raiders stole like shadows through the camp, trailing death behind them. Panic spread among the Takeda. Cries of pain mingled with shouts of bewilderment.

Jimmu and Kambei fought as a team, watching each other’s backs, giving each other warnings.

“On your right!” Kambei shouted.

Jimmu turned. A half-naked Takeda samurai was running at him, holding a spear with a long blade, like a sword. At the last moment Jimmu dodged, but the samurai anticipated the movement. The edge of the blade sliced through Jimmu’s armor and gashed his left side above the hip. Jimmu grasped the shaft of the spear, calmly stepped forward, and slashed the samurai’s throat with a flick of his sword.

“Jimmu, you’re hurt!” cried Kambei.

There was no pain yet, but there was blood. Jimmu felt a warm wetness spread over his left hip and down onto his upper thigh. He did not have to look at the wound to know that it was serious, perhaps fatal. A sense of urgency filled him. Time was running out. Would he die without avenging the death of his father?

“It’s nothing,” he said to Kambei. “I must go to Lord Ankan.”

“Let me dress that wound first,” offered Kambei.

“Later!” Jimmu insisted. “Where is Lord Ankan? I have a message for him.”

“He’s over there,” said Kambei, pointing.

Lord Ankan was standing near a watch fire, looking around in an agitated manner. As Jimmu approached, Lord Ankan greeted him.

“Ah, Jimmu!” he said. “Help me to gather the men together. The Takeda must be preparing a counter-attack by now. We must return to Hamamatsu.”

Jimmu felt his wound throbbing in time with the beating of his heart. He raised his sword so that the blade was parallel with his left cheek. The pain in his side sharpened, and seared.

“Defend yourself, Choju Ankan!” he snarled.