Takeda Shingen was a man of the utmost seriousness.
His accomplishments were numerous. All the battles that he had won. He was an undoubted genius in all things military. The Tiger of Kai. When he came to power, that was all the land his clan had – the province of Kai.
And then, he expanded, conquering Shinano and Musashi only to be halted when he attempted to set upon the lands of Echigo, and their Uesugi defenders. Their battles were numerous, but neither could claim a true upper hand, and so the ambitious tiger was forced to pause, and look elsewhere, lamenting the name of Uesugi Kenshi.
His eyes fell on the Imagawa lands of Suruga that bordered Totomi and Kai. But his son Takeda Yoshinobu – who had married Imagawa Yoshimoto's daughter – strongly opposed that plan.
When the news came, Shingen was in the field, already training – though dawn had come but a few hours before. He pushed his heels into the sides of his horse, spurring it into a gallop, raising his sword high, and hacking the straw targets to pieces as he passed.
A display likely to make any man gulp. Though the messengers were standing there, quite obviously bearing news, he ignored them completely, and only continued his task. They were not fool enough to raise their voices in protest, and instead bowed their heads low, and waited, as dutiful samurai were want to do.
Shingen was in full armour. It was a preference of his. The whole piece of kit could weigh upwards of sixty-five pounds, and so to get used to it, he wore it for weeks and months on end. He often abstained from washing, unwilling to remove himself from it.
He was undoubtedly a man dedicated to war.
Even his horse was a ruthless beast, adorned in its heavy armour just as its master was, throwing itself into the training. It had seen more blood than whole villages of men were want to see in their lives. Their hearts beat as one in their pursuit of slaughter.
With all the battles that he had fought, Shingen's men were as adept as he. At first, the majority had been mere peasants, raising up in response to their lord's demand for war. Ashigaru, entirely. Hardly trained. Difficult to manoeuvre and command.
As time passed, the growth of their fields became of but trivial concern. Theirs was a lord concerned with blood and conquest, and their opportunity was presented to them. They pursued more than they had been born into. In this era of the Sengoku Jidai, a peasant could turn Daimyo. Or even a man lower than them – a mere merchant, as demonstrated by the Viper of Mino. They threw themselves into their training, and soon became undistinguishable from the professional warriors – or samurai – in all but name.
He slowly sheathed his sword with a sigh, and trotted over to listen to the words of his men, not bothering to dismount. He was an overbearing man, with a fierce but tightly cut beard, and sharp, challenging eyes.
"Speak." He demanded. He held no respect for mere messengers. These men had gone to their middle age never taking part in the glory of battle. They were less men, and more a second set of eyes.
"My Daimyo, I bring news from Mikawa." One of the messengers took the lead, bowing low.
"Imagawa has departed, has he? Tsch. This would be a perfect time to act and seize his lands, if not for that son of my mine, and his pathetic insistence that we uphold the alliance. Their clan is dying, but their lands hold significant value. If we were to have access to their ports, then we would be able to place the matchlock in the hands of our men." His motioned his hand impatiently, talking more to himself than his servants. His want to invade the Imagawa was well known, and so he spared no time on pretence.
"Yes, my lord… he has indeed departed in a sense…" The servant replied, a smile on his lips.
Shingen narrowed his eyes, staring back at him, drawing his wakizashi. "A messenger that does not speak clearly is of no use to me. Say what you mean to say, or disembowel yourself." He cast the blade sharply down towards his feet, plunging into the earth barely a finger away from his open sandals.
"AH!" The servant flinched, doing his best to keep a hold of himself despite the scream that demanded to be let loose. "Imagawa Yoshimoto is dead, my Lord! Shigeto castle has been overthrown, and a new Daimyo rules Mikawa!" Knowing better than to try and keep Shingen guessing, the servant finally spilled the beans in their entirety, and bead of sweat sliding down his forehead.
"What?" Even Shingen, the bringer of impossibility, was forced to pause at this unexpected development. "Who? He must have been betrayed? Was it Okabe? Or did the Matsudaira revolt? Don't tell me that his boy, Ujizane managed to get up and make a man of himself?"
Betrayal in times like this was far from being uncommon. For many a development, it had even become to be expected. Most clans had risen from nothing by means of treachery. Retainers that had slowly taken more and more control of a clan's affairs, only to revolt and rise up as Daimyo's in their own right.
"None, my Lord! Matsudaira Motoyasu lies dead! As does Okabe Motonobu! All of them are slain by the hands of a new force! Only Imagawa Ujizane lives, ruling Suruga, but he too will soon fall – he was never a man for military affairs." The other servant chipped in passionately, as taken by the news as his lord was.
"All of them, dead?" Takeda exclaimed, taken aback. Military might was everything. The forces of Imagawa were split between those three factions, and it was only they who held the power to turn the tables. Every man was accounted for – they had to be. They were forced to be. "An invasion, then?"
An invasion against them seemed unlikely. The Oda were not strong enough to stage one, despite their recent victories under Nobunaga. Yet what other explanation was there?
"No, my Lord! A rebel, by the name of Miura! Miura Tadakata – the new Daimyo of Mikawa province. He'll soon claim Totomi too and then Suruga. All Imagawa's lands are his for the taking."
"Miura..? What?" His frown deepened, and his hand reflexively went towards his chin, as he stroked his beard and pondered. It was not a name he was familiar with. In fact, he was quite certain he had never heard anyone speak such a name in his presence ever. "How did this come to be? Tell me of this man. What is the strength of his forces?"
"A rebellion, it seems my Lord. We were told that this Miura bore a grudge against Imagawa. Apparently, he was a peasant in service to a samurai landholder by the name of Niwa. And then, in the battle of Okehazama, his master was killed, and he pointed the finger at Imagawa, and rose up in revenge." One of the messengers stated, before allowing his companion to take over.
"He's been steadily growing his forces over the past few months. He has an unusual ability to inspire loyalty in his men, despite not having significant land or wealth to his name. He defeated Matsudaira Motoyasu at Honkaido, killing the man, and defeating his force of 8,000 with only 500 men. Before that he captured the port of Toyokawa, and the city of Okazaki. And then he marched on Shigeto with 1,500."
"All that since Okehazama? Gods… If such a man were to pledge allegiance to me, we'd sweep through those bastard Uesugi. Where did those extra thousand come from? No, it was likely more than that. He will have lost the majority of the men in that battle." He shook his head in awe. To rise so quickly was unheard of. From nothing to Daimyo in a matter of months. That required a disgusting amount of momentum.
"No Lord, from our accounts, he sustained close to zero causalities at Honkaido. It was as though the gods came down and swept the field clean on his behalf. Those thousand men came from the Matsudaira."