The Journey (1)

I collapsed from the weight of my grief and the stress of finding out who was before me. Let him kill me, let me see my family again in the after life.

His voice, commanding but smooth like honey, rang out to the men around us. "I don't remember telling you to kill innocent women or children. The orders we were given were to capture the village for access to Kai. No part of that said destroy the people living here. Do you think these people will want to serve a Lord who pillaged their homes and ruined their way of life?"

Hideyoshi was furious. This girl in his arms was dirty, crying, covered in the blood of the dead girl beside her. Was the dead girl her family a friend? They were clearly trying to flee.

"The women were supposed to be collected and taken to the castle for maids and the men were to be collected as future soldiers. This was so we could rebuild their town so they could have somewhere to come home to!"

The amount of death and sorrow shed here today will only create people who wish to revolt against a tyrant Lord. Instances like this is what gives Lord Oda the title of Demon King. Though he is trying to unite Japan and change the system in which things are run.

Hideyoshi lifted the girl into his arms and carried her to his horse. "Bury the bodies and collect the survivors. I will deal with you all later. This girl needs attention. If I hear of a single shot ringing out from this point on, i'll have you all arrested for treason."

The soldiers shivered and glared in his direction. Some peasant boy gone general gets to order them around. They did what he asked either way. All the while watching as he carefully mounted his horse and carried the girl to their encampment.

When I came to again, my entire body was sore, but I could tell I was being held in someone's arms. It was a man, though I was in a bit of a daze. Dad? I whispered for my father, "Papa." I wanted so badly for my dad to tell me everything was okay. That we were home and that he found mom and that my sister would survive that wound. I teared up once again.

I felt myself being laid down on a sort of cot, not quite as comfortable as actual bedding. The man put his hand on my forehead and begged for my forgiveness. Then his warmth was gone and I was alone.

I began to drift off, this time for actual sleep. I was suddenly so tired I could hardly think straight. I didn't know where I was or what happened to my family, my friends, or my village. My heart hurt and my body was sore from the running and the general abuse it took today. That and the amount of stress and heartache alone is just making it hard to breathe.

Once sleep overtook the girl, the watchful eye of the man put in charge of guarding her kicked into full gear. He sat still as stone in the corner of the room, wearing all black. He didn't make a noise as the doctor set to cleaning the girls scratches. He was here just to observe and follow his Lords orders.