A Soldier’s Report on the Battle of Osari Plains,
from the Final Letters of Ikoma Yuri
It was the second year of the boar, in the reign of the Seventh’ Hantei. I was sworn to serve in the legion of Akodo Tsetsu-smaa, under the Lion daimyo Akodo Kurojin-sama. Our duty was to invade the western lands of the Crane, to capture the plains between Shiro Matsu and the Daidoji stronghold of Kosaten Shiro. If successful, the invasion forces from the Matsu lands would follow our advance, surrounding the castle and freeing the lands from Crane domination. The courtiers and politicians argued in the courts, struggling to prevent our advance, but our commander led us against the petty complaints of the diplomats and the filthy money with which the Crane protected themselves.
Under the leadership of Kurojin-sama, we crossed the border and prepared for battle with the Daidoji forces. Our swords were out and ready, and our hearts were glad to test steel against the soft belly of our enemies – but there were none. The opposing forces of the Daidoji which we had been told to fear had vanished, and there was no sign of resistance. Five hundred men marched across the plain, facing no opposition, no struggle, and no battles. It was as if the Crane had never been there.
Our commander said the Crane had fled, that they feared the fury of our blades! Some whispered that without their politicians had nothing to hide behind. Certainly, when we chose to strike, it seemed they had crumbled like so much soft clay. Our legion stopped upon the plain when we saw the spires of Daidoji palace, and made camp. The fields around us were vacant, the waving hills of grain swaying in the wind. No words could keep us from besieging Kosaten Shiro, and once it was ours, we would begin our capture of the Crane lands one by one.
Just before the sun set on the plains, my commander called to me. I was given a letter to take back to Shiro Matsu, telling Kurojin-sama of our imminent victory. His armor shone in the fading sunlight, which gleamed off the palace that I knew would soon be ours. The victory was in Tsetsu-sama’s eyes, and I was proud to bear the message to our kinsmen.
I left immediately, running across the plains toward our homeland with the scroll in my hand, and as the dawn rose, I saw smoke from the east. Certain of our victory, I stood form a moment and watched the dark smoke curl about in the cloudless sky. “It must be the burning of Kostaten Shiro!” I thought, “The fires must be leaping toward the heavens, warning all the lands of the Crane that the Lion have arrived!” How I wished I could have stayed to see the battle! Their politicians could not stop us this time! Nothing could stop us! Our strategy had been perfect!
I ran on toward the Matsu palace with joy in my heart, the victory letter clutched in my hand. My steps were long and swift, but soon I heard the thunder of hooves from behind. A single man on horseback galloped toward me, its rider dressed in the pale silver of the Crane. A deserter! I drew my katana and braced for his charge, but it never came. He pulled his horse to a stop a careful distance from me and raised his voice in peace.
“What have you come for, Crane? Your people are crushed! Can’t you see the fires of your palace to the east?” I cried valiantly.
His answer was curt. “You are the messenger that Akodo Tsetsu-san has sent back to the people of the Lion?”
“I am!” I shoulted proudly, sure now that his intent was to delay or destroy the message I bore.
“Then carry this back to them as well, with the greetings of the Daidoji.” He raised his hand from his side and threw a burlap bag at my feet. “And tell them they would be wise to learn not to camp on a plain that is not empty.” With that cryptic remark, he turned his horse and galloped back toward the burning palace. I stepped forward, wary of some trick, and opened the package. Inside the bag was Tsetsu’s head.
I went back to the Osari Plains to see for myself what had occurred. It was true. The fires I had seen were the burning bodies of my kinsmen. Huge pieces of earth ad been ripped from the ground by an unknown force, and cavernous tunnels – capable of housing dozens of men – lay beneath them. Arrows were strewn upon the ground, apparently shot by archers from the highest branches of the trees on the far edges of the plain – masterful shots, by men who must have been placed in those trees days before our arrival, with only enough food and water to survive. I smelled the acrid scent of “gaijin pepper,” that foulest of substances, and saw the seared marks along the ground where buried casks must have lain, prepared for detonation. A force of no more than fifty men could have hidden there, frozen beneath the hard-packed ground and starving in clumps of high branches, waiting for the moment when our guard fell.
We had walked into their lands, ready for battle, and had been destroyed by our own confidence. If we had only searched the ground, cut down the clumps of trees, but who knew the treachery of the Crane? Though our force was ten times their size, their preparation had been our undoing. Beware, my brothers, of certain victory, for the only thing which is certain about the Crane is their gold, and what men will do for it.
Written on the fifth day of the month of the Dragon, 473, by his own hand. Witnessed, Matsu Cheomo, sword-second at Ikoma Yuri’s seppuku.
from the Final Letters of Ikoma Yuri
It was the second year of the boar, in the reign of the Seventh’ Hantei. I was sworn to serve in the legion of Akodo Tsetsu-smaa, under the Lion daimyo Akodo Kurojin-sama. Our duty was to invade the western lands of the Crane, to capture the plains between Shiro Matsu and the Daidoji stronghold of Kosaten Shiro. If successful, the invasion forces from the Matsu lands would follow our advance, surrounding the castle and freeing the lands from Crane domination. The courtiers and politicians argued in the courts, struggling to prevent our advance, but our commander led us against the petty complaints of the diplomats and the filthy money with which the Crane protected themselves.
Under the leadership of Kurojin-sama, we crossed the border and prepared for battle with the Daidoji forces. Our swords were out and ready, and our hearts were glad to test steel against the soft belly of our enemies – but there were none. The opposing forces of the Daidoji which we had been told to fear had vanished, and there was no sign of resistance. Five hundred men marched across the plain, facing no opposition, no struggle, and no battles. It was as if the Crane had never been there.
Our commander said the Crane had fled, that they feared the fury of our blades! Some whispered that without their politicians had nothing to hide behind. Certainly, when we chose to strike, it seemed they had crumbled like so much soft clay. Our legion stopped upon the plain when we saw the spires of Daidoji palace, and made camp. The fields around us were vacant, the waving hills of grain swaying in the wind. No words could keep us from besieging Kosaten Shiro, and once it was ours, we would begin our capture of the Crane lands one by one.
Just before the sun set on the plains, my commander called to me. I was given a letter to take back to Shiro Matsu, telling Kurojin-sama of our imminent victory. His armor shone in the fading sunlight, which gleamed off the palace that I knew would soon be ours. The victory was in Tsetsu-sama’s eyes, and I was proud to bear the message to our kinsmen.
I left immediately, running across the plains toward our homeland with the scroll in my hand, and as the dawn rose, I saw smoke from the east. Certain of our victory, I stood form a moment and watched the dark smoke curl about in the cloudless sky. “It must be the burning of Kostaten Shiro!” I thought, “The fires must be leaping toward the heavens, warning all the lands of the Crane that the Lion have arrived!” How I wished I could have stayed to see the battle! Their politicians could not stop us this time! Nothing could stop us! Our strategy had been perfect!
I ran on toward the Matsu palace with joy in my heart, the victory letter clutched in my hand. My steps were long and swift, but soon I heard the thunder of hooves from behind. A single man on horseback galloped toward me, its rider dressed in the pale silver of the Crane. A deserter! I drew my katana and braced for his charge, but it never came. He pulled his horse to a stop a careful distance from me and raised his voice in peace.
“What have you come for, Crane? Your people are crushed! Can’t you see the fires of your palace to the east?” I cried valiantly.
His answer was curt. “You are the messenger that Akodo Tsetsu-san has sent back to the people of the Lion?”
“I am!” I shoulted proudly, sure now that his intent was to delay or destroy the message I bore.
“Then carry this back to them as well, with the greetings of the Daidoji.” He raised his hand from his side and threw a burlap bag at my feet. “And tell them they would be wise to learn not to camp on a plain that is not empty.” With that cryptic remark, he turned his horse and galloped back toward the burning palace. I stepped forward, wary of some trick, and opened the package. Inside the bag was Tsetsu’s head.
I went back to the Osari Plains to see for myself what had occurred. It was true. The fires I had seen were the burning bodies of my kinsmen. Huge pieces of earth ad been ripped from the ground by an unknown force, and cavernous tunnels – capable of housing dozens of men – lay beneath them. Arrows were strewn upon the ground, apparently shot by archers from the highest branches of the trees on the far edges of the plain – masterful shots, by men who must have been placed in those trees days before our arrival, with only enough food and water to survive. I smelled the acrid scent of “gaijin pepper,” that foulest of substances, and saw the seared marks along the ground where buried casks must have lain, prepared for detonation. A force of no more than fifty men could have hidden there, frozen beneath the hard-packed ground and starving in clumps of high branches, waiting for the moment when our guard fell.
We had walked into their lands, ready for battle, and had been destroyed by our own confidence. If we had only searched the ground, cut down the clumps of trees, but who knew the treachery of the Crane? Though our force was ten times their size, their preparation had been our undoing. Beware, my brothers, of certain victory, for the only thing which is certain about the Crane is their gold, and what men will do for it.
Written on the fifth day of the month of the Dragon, 473, by his own hand. Witnessed, Matsu Cheomo, sword-second at Ikoma Yuri’s seppuku.
