The passion of the heart

The passion of the heart

 

The sun crept steadily over the tops of the houses, its rays gradually reaching all areas of the town, bathing the features in a warm gold glow. The rise of the day was also signalled by the increase in noise from animals, and the general comings and goings of the townsfolk as they began their daily chores. The ground outside the inn was strewn with a delicate pink carpet of blossom petals, signalling to everyone that spring was in full force, gradually seeping into summer.

Kofu itself was a busy town, full of all the major merchants and businesses that the capital of the Takeda in Kai would attract. Not only was it the major urban centre in Kai, but Takeda Shingen, the head of the Takeda clan had made it his base, and through his shrewd economic mind had transformed the town into a bustling centre for trade and business.

Not that those features mattered to the Samurai, the only features being the fact that the Takeda clan were the most powerful faction in the mountainous Kai and Shinano regions, and that their warriors were powerful and famed horsemen. Sugi Yorimasa believed himself to be a paragon of those virtues, a Fudai or vassal, to the Takeda from Shinano, he was an adept warrior, and though young he had fought with the Takeda against their hated enemies in the north, the Uesugi.

These virtues though were not on display as he and his friends exited the inn in the early hours of the morning, still awash with a warm glow from the nights Sake and entertainment, they cut a merry bunch as they ambled, quite unsteadily, from the doors of the inn.

‘I told you, I, the great Anayama Nobukimi, am the greatest dancer the Takeda have ever known.’ This statement being followed by a few wavering steps, a twirl and Nobukimi flat on his backside. The friends burst into wild merriment, Nobukimi himself rapidly prancing back to his feet, embarrassment slowly pulling him out of his inebriated state. Sugi Yorimasa, Obu Shigemasa, Hajikano Masatsugu and Nishina Morinobu stood around him, drinking in the fresh air and winding down from their fit of laughter.

Yorimasa pulled his Kataginu around him closer, for the first time feeling the chill of the morning air; he further hitched his swords tighter to his waist and turned to his companions.

‘Come, we must be off to sleep, Lord Takeda will expecting in good shape this afternoon.’

‘But Sugi, the night is not over yet, there are more tales to tell and more sake to taste’ Obu Shigemasa replied, a beaming smile evident of his drunken state.

‘Look at the sky Obu, it is morning, and I for one would not want to be reprimanded by your uncle for your state.’

Shigemasa contemplated his words, imagining the imposing figure of Yamagata Masakage in a fiery rage directed at him.

‘You’re probably right Sugi, Uncle is not a man to cross at the best of times.’

The friends laughed, the stupor of the night wearing itself off into the morning air, being replaced by the tiredness that crept into their minds. The friends slowly made their way up the street to their quarters just outside the central mansion, an area they would be living in while the Takeda prepared their campaign against their southern foes, the Tokugawa.

They had crossed the bridge into their quarters when they noticed the sounds of an advancing party catching up to them. The retinue had numerous guards and attendants, headed by the great Uma-Jirushi of the Sanada clan. The eminent clan of Shinano province were advancing with their family at the fore, protected by their lavishly armoured hatamoto. Sanada Yukitaka, the family head, rode his horse at the head of the group, surrounded by his closest attendants, his armour covered by an elaborate gold and red silk jinbaori.

Anayama Nobukimi hailed Yukitaka and strode over to talk with him as the retinue continued its advance over the bridge and into the quarters. The rest of the friends huddled together watching the retinue sweep into the quarters moving to the north where they were assigned to stay.

‘The Sanada have come in force I hear, it seems Takeda is marshalling all his forces for this expedition. I suppose we will be finally making a move on Kyoto.’

‘I hope so, it is high time we Takeda brought stability back to the land’ the young Nishina Morinobu righteously proclaimed.

Hajikano Masatsugu laughed at his zeal, the rest noting that the Takeda would be vying for the position of major power broker in Japan, not bringing stability back to the Ashikaga Shogunte, but would hope to displace them.

‘Lets hope the Sanada fight better than the rest of you Shinano Samurai, Sugi’ Shigemasa jovially jabbed at Yorimasa.

‘Be thankful for us Shinano samurai when the real fighting begins, not you posturing Kai samurai’ Yorimasa riposted.

Shigemasa’s attempted reply was cut off by the sound of racing horses. Two horsemen were racing their way to the bridge from the back of the entourage, the chestnut horse pulling ahead of its opponent and with a clattering of hooves exited the far bank before the black horse.

A squeal of delight escaped the rider of the Chestnut horse as the rider turned to its rival.

‘I beat you Mashima, the gods clearly don’t favour you’ the rider exclaimed,

‘Your started first my lady and you know it, the gods clearly favour your cheating ways!’

All these words had tumbled out but Yorimasa had heard none of them, his attention was firmly fixed upon the young woman who had won the race. He was enraptured, her jet dark hair billowing out upon her, framing her beauty and athletic form. It was like he had been drugged, unable to tear himself away from her, he marvelled at her brazen attitude. Her eyes had ensnared him, full of the verve and vivacity of excitement, he was pulled into their chestnut embrace. By now his friends had begun to notice and sniggered at him, though Yorimasa paid no heed, he was caught up in the goddess that now transfixed him.

Her shapely body was clothed in a rich green silk robe, clearly not traditional female attire but more closer to a male’s clothes without the pomp of a samurai’s uniform. Her ivory skin contrasted her pitch black hair and her lively smile and pretty face caught the breath in Yorimasa’s throat.

The girl kept turning her horse around, as if she knew she had an audience, displaying her clear abilities as an adept horseman. She caught Yorimsasa staring at her and glared back, with an attitude of someone who knew that people disapproved of her. Yorimasa was taken aback by the venom in her eyes and yet he still could not tear himself away from her.

‘Aiko, how dare you shame me, you will be more respectful like the rest of our family or you will suffer the consequences. Mashima, escort her away right now and take greater responsibility in your guard role.’ The booming voice was delivered by Sanada Yukitaka who had ridden upon the scene followed by his attendants.

‘I sincerely apologise Lord Sanada, come Aiko we must take you to your quarters’ the man called Mashima responded.

With a haughty look, Aiko turned her horse and spurred it away to the front of the column, Mashima vainly attempting to keep pace.

‘Who is she?’ Yorimasa desperately questioned his friends,

‘Go to bed Yorimasa, your making a fool of yourself’ Masatsugu responded, the friends laughing together as each man dispersed towards his own living quarters.

Left to himself, Yorimasa floated back to his rooms, his emotions a swirling torrent of power, the crimson burning lust clouding his mind as all he could understand was that he wanted to see more of her. He reached his room in a giddy delight and collapsed into the beds covers, drifting to sleep with the sweet conflicting emotions of a man in love.