The Duel

A Story by Uesugi

The Duel

The day was lost; it had been for some time, and yet no one wanted to admit it. A sense of pride had always emanated through us, that though the going was tough we would always make it through. We always had. Victors of countless battles we had carved our presence on numerous foes and taken their lands. Our Mon had been lifted all about the central mountain region of this blessed island. Of course it was this boastful pride that had led us to this present, where our warriors who had decried that we would be victorious and pave our way to Kyoto, looked despondent, dare I say even terrified. The look in their eyes showed to me that no longer were they willing to fight, but more like and endangered animal, it sought sanctuary in flight, wide eyes searching behind as they ran from the fight.

We had been up and down this stretch of land countless times throughout the day. Each commander uproarious and confident in pushing the men forward. Always forward, onto the fences where the spears and guns waited for us. Though we were confident gradually less and less of us took part in those attacks, and less and less powerful voices of the warlords we knew were amidst us, exhorting us to great valour, to distinguish ourselves in front of our Lord. Finally, without a word of command, we started slipping away. First a trickle, it flowed into a river, then a torrent of rushing bodies, as men discarded their weapons, each trying as if to race each other from the field, and yet there was no feel of comradely sportsmanship about that flight; more and headlong rush where hell took the hindmost.

I had taken a part in this rush, and yet I was not so foolish as to leave my weapons. I could not afford the cost of gaining another, yet I had the luxury of riding a horse that the lesser man did not, though a tired and poor variety it was. I felt ashamed. Here I was, a warrior of noble virtue, following in my father’s footsteps through the snows and valleys of our homeland I had bravely and valiantly attacked that indomitable fence again and again. My Okegawa-do was heavily scarred, my forearm bleeding and a gash on my thigh that would not stop slowly seeping blood. Though I had seen battle before my courage had waned throughout the battle as I saw our once indomitable force brought low by the enemy. That fence had slowly become my enemy; if I could just pass it and break through, glory was mine, and yet slowly I realised that my chance of this happening was slim. Thus, when the men started running I joined them, bereft of any comfort that we could pass through. The horns of the enemy now had unanimously screeched their victory, and the howls and roars of the triumphant enemy sent them into pursuit.

I had harried my horse into what speed it had left, the sounds of the enemy growing dimmer as I left the men to their fate. Once my shame had crept upon me only then did I turn to survey the dying scenes of the battle. It was at that moment that I saw a shard of hope arise in front of me. There he was riding his warhorse through the throng with his bodyguard behind. He reined in before the advancing enemy, his chest puffed with the pride given to him through hundreds of victories and numerous years spent upon the battlefield. The black and white mountain path flag was held proudly by his guard. He was richly dressed, indication that he was a warrior of notable repute, something one of the Twenty-Four generals would be inclined to wear; his Jinbaori was delicately inlaid, the silk a vibrancy of colour. Under this his lacquered Mogami-do armour peeked; while his attendant carried his Yari in one hand, the warrior’s hand never left his Tachi, the scabbard inlaid with rich ornaments.

When there was no one left but him to face the enemy, the warrior surveyed the enemy, his confidence slowing the enemy’s rapid advance. With all eyes focused on himself he proudly boasted to the enemy:

‘I Baba Nobuharu, son of Kyoraishi Nobuyasu, victor of Katsurayama and Kawanakajima, Warlord of the Takeda, challenge any warrior to take my head’

With this, his men proudly placed his banner in the ground and he rode forward, his spear now firmly in his hand. With this a renewed sense of vigour arose from some of our men, and they turned to give their help, although what a pitiful bunch of men they were, most still commanded by the fear that swept through the bodies.

At this challenge the enemy was checked, for who would not think twice about facing this mighty warrior; a soldier of Seventy battles, unharmed in all. Yet, two of the enemy came forward, their youthful vigour evident on their faces, not any older than I. I saw their bright eyes and hungry looks, the fame they would gain by bringing low this man and another victory for their clan. Their armour was not nearly as richly inlaid as their foe, and yet they had all the benefits of speed and strength their older enemy did not.

Both sides charged their horses, the mud spraying from the hooves, their lances prostrated at the enemy. Nobuharu’s slashed into one of the boy’s shoulders, just underneath his blue lacquered shoulder guard. With this he was launched off his horse and a great roar resonated from our soldiers. Nobuharu turned to the other warrior and a clash of spears echoed around as they both struggled up close. Nobuharu was pushed off his horse and fell tumbling, reaching for his Tachi, he swept it out in a vicious cut towards the dismounted man, severing the spear head of the weapon he was holding. An intricate duel of swords followed, Nobuharu displaying all the intricacies a master swordsman would have learned throughout his career. Yet, youth and vigour are powerful tools, and the second warrior, now dismounted advanced upon the now tired Nobuharu, a few cuts and thrusts preceding the killer blow that was delivered upon his neck. The warrior’s finished the job by decapitating the fallen hero.

All joy seemed to seep from our area of the battlefield. The creeping terror had returned, slowly clawing at our minds, as more men swept away. Who could overcome the enemy if not Baba Nobuharu. The enemy advance continued, the two warriors having returned to their ranks to rapturous applause.

I turned my horse about, the Tiger that had once abounded within me, now a wounded and forlorn beast. I pushed my horse through the Kansagawa stream, turning once to survey the carnage before me. The battlefield was littered with bodies and standards, the proud colours of our warriors mixed the blood and mud upon the ground. All wildlife seemed to have disappeared, no calming sound was to be heard from the birds. Sorrow washed over me like a typhoon, and I turned away, unable to face the disaster I had been a part of, the pride of our army laid low before this new mighty clan. I worried for our clan’s future in the face of this indomitable force.

The snows of Kai would be doubly harsh this year.