Chapter 8 - The Plot is Lost

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Several days drifted by, the evenings were staying lighter for longer, and the air was definitely warmer. My routine was becoming second nature, and with no sign of Saizo, I began to practice more with my katana on my own, just on horseback, I had no idea of how to even start wielding the thing at ground level.

It began to dawn on me the troop work around me was in preparation for something, day by day a palatable thread of tension? Excitement? Expectation? Wound it way around the training grounds.

One particular day the wind changed direction, bringing a cold blast, and when I slid my door open it was grey and drizzly, instantly souring my mood. I had overslept and missed breakfast, and from that door opening moment a series of small nuisances would lead me to finally lose a grip on my temper. I put my hands up here, I totally lost it that day, a proper girly moment as if all the frustrations of my life burst out of me at once.

My left shoulder was still really annoying, taking its time to heal and be useful riding, I rubbed it till it ached back at me on my way to the stables, I was running late and hungry. My mood and energy had an immediate effect on the horses, I tried to stay calm, but heard in my own voice how snappy I was.

"I'm sorry Ryo," (The young man I had first met being flung around by Shingen's horse), "I don't seem to be of good humour today, please ignore me."

He said nothing in return, but nodded his understanding, leaving me alone to tack up.

Lord Shingen's horse rolled his eyes at me, picking up my temper. "Don't you bloody start." I warned, then sighed and rested my head against his huge, dense neck. I felt tears threaten from nowhere and mentally gave myself a slap. "Oh no you don't, not here." I fought them back.

I spent longer grooming than usual, the physical effort and close contact with this great warhorse was soothing and my mood began to improve. Tack had appeared, everyone was keeping their distance, which was fine; I wasn't in the mood for chit chat anyway.

Running as late as I was, I decided to only take out Shingen's and Saizo's horses, I would be hard pressed as it was to work them both properly before lunch. I sighed again, the light drizzle was beginning to soak me through, the dark sky adding to my gloom and the wind had a cool bite to it adding to the chill.

Lances were ready for me as I approached the arena, several of the men hailed me in welcome and I tried to look cheerful in reply, but didn't stop. I tethered Saizo's horse noting grimly the tack already looking slick from the light rain. That was not going to be pleasant to sit in later.

For a few minutes I just sat there, lance resting on the ground. I looked up at the sky, closing my eyes and letting the swirling water freshen my face, and shivered as a cold droplet ran down the back of my neck. For the first time in a while I felt alone in this place, the weather reminded me so much of England. Again I was threatened with tears so clenching my jaw I picked up the lance and nudged the horse forwards, I could at least ride a few exercise patterns and keep us warm, if not dry.

It wasn't long before I could feel my emotions starting to get the better of me. I halted as pure fury swept over me. My shoulder still hurt, I was out of place, out of time, struggling with this reality, I was almost soaked through, getting cold and dammit I was hungry.

Gripping the lance tightly enough to turn my knuckles white, I stabbed the ground beside me with each thought and emotion rushing through me. This time the tears came, blurring my vision.

"This" (stab) "Is" (stab) "Fucking" (STAB, STAB, STAB). Shingen's horse began to dance under me from my temper so with one final stab securing the lance to the ground in a spray of dirt, I dismounted and stormed away from him. I kicked one of the arena blocks, sending a large shot of pain from my big toe. "OW!" .... "Fuck, Fuck, Shit, Bollocks ......ARRGGH!!" I balled up my fists, looking for something to vent my anger on, my vision still blurred by tears.

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