The world regained focus for Yabu slowly, painfully. The world was dark and cold and full of pain.
He was bent over, lying on his face slightly curled up. His arms were bound at the wrist in front of him, with a bamboo pole stuck through his elbows behind his back. By the feel of it, it was a stout piece of bamboo.
Looking around, Yabu saw he was being watched by one of the enemy soldiers. This man was outfitted as an ashigaru in half-armour, but he had the mien of a competent warrior. He stood neither too far away, nor close enough that Yabu had any confidence of catching him off guard. He was tough and capable looking -- probably a hirazamurai.
A couple of dozen figures were moving about in the moonlight and the flickering light of some fires. The flames were still leaping, with no coals, so the fires had to be recently set. Obviously the initial surprise attack had failed, and the intruders were setting up camp. Some of them were tending the fires, and others were unloading provisions and boiling water against the chill of the night air, still cold here in the heights in early spring.
Yabu looked around, but from his position on the ground he could not see the watchtower. It must still stand -- if these soldiers had taken it, they would be camped there and not here. He cursed himself for letting himself be captured. It was the act of a fool, not a trained warrior. He should have gone back for his bow, or mustered their remaining ashigaru into a surprise counter attack, or sent for reinforcements, or anything save what he had done. He cursed himself silently, feeling the bonds for weakness.
Down at the fires a couple of samurai were arguing over whether to kill him. It sounded like the argument had been going on for some little time, but as Yabu listened another samurai came from the darkness on the opposite side of the fire and shut them up with a preromptory gesture. He started walking up towards where Yabu lay. Yabu rolled over into a sitting position with a grunt.
The samurai was a striking figure. He was young, not more than a few years past twenty. He had fine, almost girlish features and was slimly built. He wore fine armour with white lacing, a very pale deerskin rain cape, and deer antlers attached to his kabuto.
Yabu recognized him. Kano Jigoro, an archer and mercenary captain. It was said he had taken five heads for every arrow in his quiver+Jigoro squatted to bring his face level with Yabu's. "That was a desperate move, my friend. Are all your fellows as impetuous? And how many friends do you have up there?"
Yabu smiled ruefully. "The same number there was when I left, I expect, although I didn't think I'd be enjoying your warm fire rather than my cold bed up there."
Jigoro gestured and Yabu heard the spearman move up behind him. The younger man spoke to Yabu again. "You realise that you are at my mercy? Again, I ask you. How many men are in the tower?"
Yabu stood up, ignoring the ashigaru behind him. "If I was a man worried about death, I would not have attacked your soldiers alone as I did." He did not answer the question.
Jigoro stood suddenly, but his voice remained quiet as he said "I will not have a trussed man killed for bravery. But I hope that your friends are more reasonable -- for your sake -- and if not, well, I expect reinforcements soon, so they will certainly all be dead by noon tomorrow."
Yabu's shrug was made awkward by the way his arms were bound. "Death comes to us all, and no man knows the karma of another. It is a small watchtower." Yabu looked around the camp as if counting the more than a dozen soldiers. "I am sure, if you get reinforcements, that you would be able to take it eventually. But at what price? You are a warrior of renown, Jigoro-san. You will understand that our duty, here, is to make you pay sufficiently for this small bridge, this little tower."
"Indeed. And in my turn, I will take it any way that I can."
"Jigoro-san, I am Takenoshita Yabu. If you decide to slay me, I would like to be sure that my head is properly labelled."
"I will ensure it is done." Jigoro replied crisply. He rose, and brushing soil from his clothes, said "I will have the ashigaru bring you closer to the fire. It will be cold before dawn."
"May I ask, Jigoro-san, whose soldiers these are that you command?"
"My own veterans." He threw back his head and laughed. "That is not the answer you seek. Ronin, of course, like me. And like you, once, unless I miss my guess. Already the wolves gather around the carcass." He laughed again, and strode back towards the fires, calling over his shoulder. "You want to know my employer? Ask where this road goes!"
There were sixteen men in the camp, of which four were archers. As the night wore on, Yabu observed carefully as three men came in from the dark and were replaced by three others. With a camp this size, that would probably be their only guards. It was still more than enough -- at best, the little watchtower with its partial palisade was only manned by five or six men now. Fifteen men with four archers, commanded by someone as adept as Jigoro, would be able to drive them like sheep come daylight.
Yabu tested his bonds, trying not to draw the attention of his guard. Frustration at his own position and imminent failure gave him greater strength than usual, and he was stronger than his thin frame appeared. Straining, increasing his efforts as carefully and smoothly as he could, he felt the bamboo pole flex, then start to splinter. The crackling noise was obscured by the fire, and the guard did not notice.
Yabu checked the bonds on his arms. One slid on the bamboo pole, and the other looked like it could be convinced to do the same. With the pole splintered and weak, he was confident he could bend it and slip his arms free.
Yabu calmed himself. The only thing now was to choose the right time. The moon was down; the night would get no darker. He knew where the perimeter guards were, or close enough. The small river was on one side. That way was blocked -- in the dark, with the first rush of meltwater filling its banks, the icy mountain creek was as dangerous as an armed man, or more so.
Back towards the watchtower was where two of the perimeter guards were certainly stationed, and that is where his pursuers would expect him to run. Up the mountain road from the tower was not much use either, and also guarded.
Running beside the road, though, was a dense stand of bamboo. Perfect. Its edge was only twenty or thirty meters from where he sat. If he could get into it, he was confident he could escape. It would be as dark as pitch in there, and nearly impossible to use weapons. Yabu was sure he could defeat any number of bumbling ashigaru, untrained in the skills of fighting blind, if he could get into the bamboo thicket.
As he waited, watching the enemy to gain any additional information that he could, Yabu saw some movement in the somnolent enemy camp. Someone had just come into camp from the side away from the tower, and was talking to one of the lieutenants of Kano Jigoro. A moment later he saw Jigoro stand up and go to them, still armoured but not wearing his kabuto. Ashigaru started to stir around the camp.
After a few moments the source of the commotion became obvious. The rhythmic tramp of feet was approaching down the mountain road. Here came the reinforcements Jigoro had spoken of.
Yabu's guard was also interested in the newcomers. Yabu toyed with the notion of staying long enough to assess the size of the new contingent, but realized it would be foolish. The first thing a new commander would wish to do would be to interrogate him, and he might easily lose his chance to escape.
Still trying to be quiet, Yabu bent and flexed his powerful shoulders. The pole splintered and broke, allowing him to quickly slide free of his bonds. The noise had been loud enough to draw the attention of his guard, who backed away with open mouth, momentarily speechless.
"Another time!" Yabu said quietly, then turned and ran. He heard the shout as his guard raised the alarm, and a clatter off to his left as the guard threw his yari, way off target. Yabu had a moment to wish that the guard had been more adept -- if he had come closer, Yabu could have grabbed the spear and been armed.
An arrow whizzed past his shoulder, barely missing. Panting, Yabu berated himself for not spotting the bowman. An arrow in his leg now and he would be recaptured. Ahead was the dark mass of the bamboo thicket.
And the one guard he had to pass, running to intercept him.
Yabu changed his path straight towards the guard, who raised his yari to strike. Propelled by fury and fear of dishonorable recapture, Yabu's hands smoothly knocked the ashigaru's thrust aside, then spun the weapon out of his grip. Yabu rolled after it, coming up with the spear in his hands as the ashigaru pulled out his okashi gatana. One spiraling thrust and the enemy lay writhing on the ground. Yabu scarcely even slowed, continuing past him and diving into the darkness of the bamboo.
He chuckled to himself as he made his way deeper into the brush. Kano Jigoro was going to be furious!