The sea was greenish gray in the slanted sunlight. The weather was surprisingly calm and clear for early winter, although land was out of sight.
Takenoshita Yabu stopped by the rail of the ship where Hotaru-no-suke stood. The contrast between the two was dramatic. Yabu stood tall, thin as whipcord, cheek badly scarred, temples turning grey. An old warrior.
Hotaru was short, young, unmarked by war, smooth-cheeked, long hair flowing in the breeze. He looked almost too young to be a warrior, although he stood with the confidence of a man. An image of youth.
Yabu grunted, looking out at the waves. "You used your spear adeptly in that ambush, Hotaru."
Hotaru turned from the rail, wiping his long hair away from his face. "Thank you, Yabu-san," he said with a bow, "I am glad that I was able to be of aid in that battle."
"You have an interesting fighting technique," Yabu continued, still looking out at the ocean. "I am somewhat of a student of combat; I have rarely seen a bukei fighting the way you do."
Hotaro blinked, unsure as to what Yabu meant by his comments. "I was taught according to the way of my family. My style may seem strange to some, but it has proven effective."
"The way of your family?" Yabu nodded, watching the clouds. "I have seen similar styles before."
There was a moment of silence as Hotaro digested this statement. "I was not aware of that, Yabu-san." He said quietly, "I had always thought my style to be rather... unique, since my family is a small one."
"I have studied many styles, over many years. If I am right, I have seen it before. A fighting style is as distinctive as an accent of speech. I have even fought opponents who attempted to disguise their fighting style, so as to make it less easy to recognize and take advantage of," Yabu said thoughtfully.
"They do?"
Yabu nodded. "If it is important to you that others not recognize your fighting style, you might consider something similar," he said without emphasis.
"I will see what I can do, Yabu-san." Hotaro kept his voice carefully neutral.
Yabu was silent for a long minute. "You were brave to stay and fight alone when all the others fell back across the bridge, Hotaru."
"Thank you, Yabu-san." Hotaru bowed again before continuing, "Although I will admit that I had little choice. I do not ride well, and the press at the bridge was too great for me to risk forcing my way." He paused, and glanced over at Yabu, "And you had fallen, and I could not leave Ogame-sama's trusted general to die at the hands of peasants."
Yabu smiled thinly. "You are clever, Hotaru. But do not be so modest."
His smile disappeared, and he looked Hotaru in the eyes for the first time. "I ordered everyone across the bridge. I shouted it twice. The others obeyed. You did not. I fell after everyone else had obeyed, and Benesato came back across and still reached me before you did. Do not pretend that you stayed to save me, Hotaru. Your mind was on other things."
"Yabu-san, I told you..." Hotaru started in his soft voice.
Yabu gestured sharply with his hand, cutting Hotaru off mid-sentence.
"Do not interrupt. You are young, Hotaru. You have much to learn yet. Here is a lesson -- obey orders."
"Yes Yabu-san," said Hotaru as he fell to his knees on the deck and bowed before the older samurai, "as Ogame-sama's general I will follow your orders as if they had been spoken by the Lord himself."
Yabu gazed at the youth for a moment. "Good. Your obedience does you credit. We will speak no more about it, Hotaru-san." He bowed to the kneeling youth and turned away.
Rising slowly to his feet, Hotaru gave Yabu's retreating back a blank look. This had been a valuable lesson he thought. He was at his best when no one noticed him, thus he would have to work harder at not being noticed.
As he went below decks, Yabu shook his head grimly. He had asked Lord Ogame that this young ... samurai ... accompany the mission because his skills could be useful. Now he wasn't so sure. The shinobi keep their own counsel. Liars, actors and spies. Even this young one could be dangerous to them all if he would not obey, and Yabu didn't trust him for a moment. His apology had been too facile, too quick. He shook his head again.