Taste

Rain

Mitsuhide's letter arrived just before Oda Nobunaga's. At the very top, where there might have once been a greeting, was a simple phrase: We found him.

With that, preparations for war began at full speed. Lines of supplies were organized, weapons stockpiled, horses made ready for combat. Kasugayama was a flurry of familiar activity. Much to Kenshin's surprise and partial dismay, the Princess proved an invaluable asset for planning. Clearly, her former title of 'Chatelaine' was not strictly honorary. She knew her way around a castle and did so as attentively as she did everything else.

But the oncoming conflict also meant she would stay behind.

"Why?" She seemed honestly angry when he told her, clutching at his sleeves.

"A battlefield is no place for you," he snapped back. "You're safest here, within Kasugayama's walls. Sasuke will stay with you and watch over the castle, as well as some trusted officers."

"And both of you out there, for God knows how long, getting injured?" She knit her eyebrows together. "And I won't even know?"

"You don't like warfare. You said so yourself."

"But I like the idea of not knowing if you and Mitsuhide are okay less!"

"You're staying." And the tone of his voice brooked no argument. She released his arms, bitterness and fear swirling in her eyes. What an impossible woman. He sighed and swept part of her hair behind her ear, cupping her chin. "Please don't look at me like that."

"I'm just..." A heavy exhale. "How long will you be gone?"

"I'd give it only a few days. We know where he lurks. It is simply a matter of springing the trap."

He left with the army only a day later, one of her hair ribbons tied tight around his wrist. He couldn't spare a glance behind him–what if the men saw and questioned his resolve?–but all the same, he felt her eyes on his back as they rode toward the forest, and he felt how Mitsuhide must every time he left. The ache was nearly intolerable.

Kasugayama was quiet without the two leaders and their vassals.

Sasuke and the Chatelaine kept themselves entertained. They played Go and swapped stories about awkward cultural misunderstandings, tried their hand at making a deck of cards and playing with them. It snowed again one night, and they walked in small, zen circles in the courtyard before devolving into a snowball fight. For the most part, she was left alone. Being without Kenshin there made her position tenuous, at best–but it seemed no one with designs on power had an interest in so thoroughly angering the God of War that they risked laying a hand on her.

Not at first.

Sasuke and she were taking tea in his room when someone rattled the screen frame.

"Come in," he called, setting down his mug.

"My hands are full." The man on the other side of the door rattled it again. Apparently he was using his foot. "Please come open it."

Sasuke cast a single glance at the Chatelaine before rising, slipping the screen open. And–

"Oh my god!"

The samurai on the other side lunged mercilessly into the room, blade drawn, making for Sasuke's stomach. Sasuke caught the sword hard across his chest and lurched back, drawing his own weapon and parrying. Shooting up from her seat, the Chatelaine screamed.

"Shut up!" The man smashed his arm into Sasuke's face, flinging him across the room with unreal savagery. Completely winded, the ninja struggled to his feet, but another motion and the assailant drove his sword into his hand, pinning him to the floor. Quicker than anyone could react, he lurched forward and grabbed the Chatelaine, wrapping a sack over her head.

"Shout," he hissed meaningfully at Sasuke, "And I kill her."

Sasuke went utterly silent, holding his stomach on the floor and watching. Flinging her over his shoulder, the kidnapper left the room.

The Uesugi forces settled in next to the Oda camp as rain pattered gently over the soggy ground. Thick trees sheltered them, but the large leaves still shed heaven's tears. Despite the gloom, things went as planned. It was impossible that the two sides would be perfectly cooperative, given their history, but as far as things went, it was relatively calm. Kenshin linked back up with the other warlords present at a meeting.

"Kenshin," Nobunaga greeted him with an imperious expression, but Kenshin did not return the favor.

"Nobunaga." He settled in before a low table next to Shingen, sharing shoulder space with Mitsuhide. At least he trusted one person's counsel. "What is our strategy?"

"It seems the Abbot has taken up residence in a small hut near a cliff." Ishida Mitsunari, who Kenshin had heard of but never met, pointed at a small map. "It's well hidden and fortified. We aren't sure of the other encampments, but there appear to be 'outposts' along the forest path in all directions."

"Stir one," Mitsuhide added, "And the word spreads like a fire."

"Then we should just charge in as quickly as possible." Masamune flexed his hands, his blue eye gleaming with a wild light. "They can't warn Kennyo if none live."

Ieyasu rolled his eyes. "You're impossible."

"I'm inclined to agree." Kenshin took a long drink of tea only after watching Mitsuhide sip his own.

"I'm not." Shingen dissented gently. "This should require the utmost discretion. Wouldn't it be better for this to go in waves? As one of us target–"

The tent flap burst open, a soldier racing in. "My lords! A man on horseback approaches!"

"Whose colors does he wear?" Nobunaga was on his feet, heading for outside.

"None–and he appears to be injured!"

"What in the devil?" Ieyasu grumbled, heading out of the tent just behind his lord. Exchanging glances, Mitsuhide and Kenshin followed, making their way into the center of camp just to see Sasuke stagger off his horse, collapsing into Yukimura's arms.

"Sasuke!" Kenshin shoved onlookers aside, kneeling next to the man. "Where is she?"

"Taken." His arm was stuck to his stomach, one hand wrapped in heavy bandages that were long bled through. With a dull pang of fear, he realized blood was the sealant between the arm and his chest. "She was taken. One of the samurai from Kai sold her out. I've no idea of how many others were complicit for him to get away. I tracked him to the forest."

"Stop talking." Ieyasu shoved Kenshin and Yukimura roughly away, snatching a water skin off Masamune's belt and pouring it liberally over Sasuke's stomach. The ninja winced in pain, but did not cry out. "Someone bring me my medicine kit. If he keeps talking, it gets worse."

"One of my men?" Shingen was pale. "Why would one of my men take her? She is one of us–"

"Shingen." Kenshin was shaking, shaking with fear and fury and disbelief coalesced. Mitsuhide had been right. Sasuke wasn't enough. He was a fool, an absolute fool for leaving her, and if she came to any harm, he didn't know if he would kill Shingen, Sasuke, or himself first. "Shingen, if one of your men was responsible for taking her, I–"

"My lords!"

The warlords rounded on another messenger, this one looking even less happy with his position. With a shaking hand, he held out a letter.

"This was just delivered to our gate."

"Shit." Masamune muttered.

Mitsuhide snatched it from the man's hand, uncharacteristically impatient. Without announcement, he unrolled the piece of dirty vellum and read it to himself.

"Well?" Kenshin snapped. "Well, what does it say?"

Usually the Kitsune was entirely unreadable. Usually, he was utterly calm. No doubt he had been in enough battlezones and double-crossed negotiations to merit it. But now–now he was quivering. Quietly, he slipped the pearl hair comb from the letter, handing it to Kenshin without ceremony.

"They have our Princess," he answered, his voice low. "And for her safe return, they ask that Kenshin bring, to the edge of the southern forest, Nobunaga's head."