FATED - an adult LGBTQ fantasy romance (Excerpt)

Chapter 5

Date was finishing his morning bowl of rice and salted fish in his bedroom when six strikes of the bronze gong of the castle's shrine rang in the warm morning air, signaling the start of the hour of the Rabbit, the first hour of the day.

In the hall outside his rooms, the soft padding of dozens of bare feet announced that the castle had awoken. With the first rays of sunlight, the relentless mid-summer heat would soon rise. It was best to tackle the hardest work while it wasn't too difficult.

In his reading room on the other side of his private garden, Date was quick to dispose of the most urgent paperwork. The tedious, yet demanding task kept his mind focused and sharp, away from the distraction raised by the incident of the previous night. And from any parasite thoughts related to a certain Spanish captain.

When Date set down his brush, two hours had passed. After donning more formal clothes and his pair of swords, he strolled down the halls of the castle to the steep stairs leading to the large and formal reception hall on the second floor where the council of elders met, and where petitioners could bring their requests and worries.

Since the change of regime, the role of the daimyo of a domain had become more administrative, implementing the laws and rules set down by the Tokugawa shogunate hundreds of leagues away. Gone were the days when warfare and battlefield strategy took most of Date's time.

When mornings dragged into afternoons, afternoons into evenings, when he had to listen to yet another claim from yet another peasant, Date often yearned for the days when he'd be ankle-deep in bloodied mud, with the life and death of thousands depending on his decisions and vision.

I am a warrior, not a bureaucrat, and yet, look at me now. Will I end up like Honda dono, the most loyal general of all, now nearly in disgrace because he's unwilling to give up the blood-stirring chaos of war?

Resolute, Date pushed aside his wistful musings as he climbed the stairs to join the council members in the spacious audience hall where paper screens running along three walls filtered strong sunlight. The room was bare, with exquisite paintings of mountains, pine trees and sparrows on the main wall the only decoration. A bold yet subdued mirror image of the breath-taking paintings in the reception halls of the Nijo castle belonging to the Tokugawas in Kyoto.

Sitting in silence side by side, their backs to the windows, fifteen men knelt on the dark wooden floor in the inner space that four square pillars delimited. Their postures were erect, and they were weaponless as protocol required; their swords had been confiscated before they could enter the room. Four armed guards knelt in each corner of the hall.

Without sparing a glance for anyone, Date walked with purpose between the two rows of men toward two raised straw mats placed near the main wall, where a cushion waited for him. Three times thicker than normal tatami, their sides were embroidered with the sigil of his clan.

His eye was fixed on the heavy black armor set up against the main wall. Bullet resistant, with layers of iron scales bound by silk lace, it was the heaviest and most impressive that Date owned. He wore it only when he went to war. The rest of the time, it was set up in this room, a reminder of where the power lay, even when Date was not in the castle.

With the grimacing black mask placed under the helmet, the armor looked lifelike, a stark and looming symbol of what and who he was; even though it was his, a tingle of awe, mingling with pride, ran along his spine.

Turning his back against this larger-than-life replica of himself, Date knelt on the cushion. Like his wife and concubines the previous night, everyone in the room bowed low in greetings. Shigezane sat on his left, Katakura on his right.