2,174 Nyang a Day
Hold on just a little longer!
Trudge, trudge.
“Haah...”
“What do we do...?”
The samurai who had fought Daehan and ultimately fled finally came to a halt after running a long, long way.
Their horses had all bolted, and they had nothing to show for the battle. They hadn't captured so much as a single enemy.
“They fought like demons.”
“Just when I thought I had one, he'd slip away, and then everyone around me started dropping.”
Horses were terribly expensive animals. They were needed for farming, for war, for commerce — so many purposes that they were precious beyond measure.
Leaving aside the ones that had died in the fighting, the vast majority had simply run off in the middle of the battle.
Of the hundred-odd men who remained, only about one man per horse still had a mount, with maybe one or two extra animals dragged along on leads.
“Hiiik!”
“The... the Oni!”
Quite a few of them looked half out of their minds, and the samurai's faces were clouded with dread at the thought of what on earth they were going to say when they got back.
If word ever got out that forty men had fought five hundred and only a hundred had survived to return, their lives as samurai would be over.
“That's it! It's the ones who came back first who got it wrong! They only saw a part of the enemy force, that's all.”
“And the cowards hid and launched ambushes on us!”
“There were a full thousand of them, I tell you!”
“We fought bravely even against their ambush, but the odds were against us and we had no choice but to withdraw!”
“Exactly!”
The power of collective intelligence had made itself known. Piece by piece, each man added his own line, and though it was lies through and through, an excuse had been cobbled together in no time.
And so the samurai packaged themselves as heroes of a valiant last stand against hopeless odds.
BANG!
“What! Is this true?”
“So it is reported, my lord.”
“Tch... what are we to do about this?”
By the time the report arrived, the forty had swelled into thousands, and word had it that the enemy was advancing on Kamakura overland.
“So with their ships gone, the bastards are pushing inland!”
“What are your orders?”
“Build walls on land as well, and erect watchtowers!”
Thus the plan, which had originally been to prepare only the coastline, now had land defenses added to it — even though in a country as short of manpower as Japan, doing both at once was plainly impossible.
“Might it not be wiser to concentrate on one or the other?”
“Hmm... well. Haven't we already made some preparations along the coast?”
“Yes, the battery positions are more or less complete.”
“Then let us finish the batteries and turn our attention to the land.”
Hojo Nagatoki was thinking that with powder in such short supply anyway, he could concede the coastline if it came to that and hold them on land.
“Keep recruiting samurai, and prepare the farmers to fight as well!”
“There is much to be done!”
“If we crumble now, there is no tomorrow!”
It was still spring, so he believed he had a little time — and if it came to the worst, he would mobilize the peasants too.
In the end, samurai were simply farmers who happened to be good at fighting, gathered together; perhaps the ranks of his warriors might swell considerably after all. So he thought.
I'd sent a letter to Sinsi asking when the ships would come. It was a perfectly innocent question, honestly...
“Haah...”
And the reply that flew back — a report in name, but a scolding if you actually read it — said, once again, that this hadn't even been a battle, that I had simply gone and blown an entire fleet to smithereens, and that particular point was written down five separate times, dressed up in different phrasings each round.
Ships don't pop out ready-made just because you order them — seven times.
We are building them, so wait — thirteen times.
What talent. How many times can one person rewrite the same sentence and make it sound different?
“It's just my lot in life, I suppose.”
It's a bit unfair, really. They're building them with my money out of the Temple treasury anyway — what's the complaint? Nobody got hurt, and privately I'd been thinking how lucky we were.
“Still, the Mongols really are something else.”
According to the news that came with the letter, they'd long since conquered the Middle East and pushed into Western Europe, occupying half of Germany.
But just as Temüjin had feared, they seemed to have started fighting among themselves over power, and the Europeans were gathering to resist them at every turn.
“Impressive all the same. And here the Pope is carrying on about heretics this and infidels that even in the middle of all this.”
Think about it — we didn't do a single thing, and we're being branded infidels and evil spawn. Weren't they the ones who attacked first and caused this whole mess?
Humans really are selfish creatures, I suppose. They only ever think from their own point of view. They'll forget the blows they dealt and remember only the ones they took — and just like that, a blood feud is born.
“So not a word about when they're sending the ships, huh...”
And now, out of nowhere, I'm trapped in a foreign country living the life of an exile. My lot in life. It's not like I blew up the fleet on purpose...
Still, there are plenty of ships here. The Dolphins are genuinely useful, so there are heaps of them everywhere you go.
What's scarce is the warships — the Black Whales and Horned Whales. And that means...
“My lady! We've landed a big one today!”
“Wahahaha! That was fun!”
That "big one" meant they'd stolen a lot of gold. The Dolphins are actually better suited to piracy than anything else, you see.
They have to board merchant vessels, so there's no need to lug cannons around, and they sometimes have to make landfall on a shore — so a flat-bottomed hull like the Dolphin's is a perfect fit.
The mine could wait; never one to let an opportunity pass, she was throwing herself wholeheartedly into piracy, hopping from place to place.
I'm confident we could claim every spot from first to tenth on any ranking of history's most brutal, savage pirates. No — wait, since there's no formal pirate crew or anything of the sort, maybe just first place will do.
“Good work, everyone.”
As long as they're having fun, that's what matters. Yes! Honestly, putting them on pirate duty might have been the smartest thing I could have done.
Keep them tied up right here! See? I can't even imagine what kind of trouble they'd have been brewing otherwise.
Every last laborer in the gold mining district was Japanese. They worked hard and followed instructions well, but they couldn't be entirely trusted.
Most of the people here, for instance, had been working this region for two hundred and fifty years, dating all the way back to the Iwami days.
They ate the rice we brought them and used the cloth we supplied, yet they adopted not one scrap of Daehan culture — not the writing, not the dress, not even the religion. There were two Shinto shrines sitting right up on that hillside over there.
Don't come crying to me later when I leave them all behind.
They were so well-behaved that she'd considered taking them along, but with attitudes like these, there was no bringing them anywhere.
This is why I seem to like primitives. They follow you with their hearts first. It's because they see me as a god or something of the sort, I suppose.
The people of the Eastern Continent treat the trees as gods too, from what I can tell.
“Ugh.”
She'd barely finished one lap of the village when, from early morning, the sound of a woman wailing drifted over again. A culture she truly could not understand.
Men paid nighttime visits to the homes of young unmarried women or widows — sometimes mutual, by all accounts, but apparently forced encounters were far more common.
“How is that any different from assault? And they call it culture.”
The really funny part was that in certain regions, when a stranger came to the village, the locals would offer him a woman, or lend him another man's wife for the night.
She could ban this sort of culture until she was blue in the face and it would do no good. They'd nod along — yes, yes, of course — and then turn right around and keep doing it.
“Please, eat before you go!”
“We've got rice balls fresh off the press!”
“Fish caught just yesterday, my lady!”
And that food of theirs — they hardly ate any meat? Thank goodness this was the coast and fish were plentiful, or they'd be in real trouble.
Something about an edict from Emperor Tenmu, she'd heard, meant they avoided pork and beef out in the open.
No wonder they were all so short and lacking in strength, then. She'd done a full lap since morning, and honestly, there was no improvement to be seen anywhere.
Chomp, chomp. Munch, munch.
“Hm? You're back, my lady?”
And look at my lot, tearing into meat first thing in the morning.
“Isn't meat this early a bit heavy?”
“We just chase it down with a drink!”
Maybe these guys are a little unhinged — is that from all the drinking? They drink quite a lot, don't they?
“It looked like you were drinking it instead of water. You sure that's fine?”
“Hahaha! It's weak stuff — practically water!”
Come to think of it, didn't sailors in the Middle Ages carry ale around and drink it in place of water too? Well, you lot have Holy Water, don't you?
“Care for a bite yourself, my lady?”
“No, I've had plenty.”
CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!
“A ship has been spotted!”
The bell tolled from the watchtower atop the fortress wall, accompanied by a frantic shout. An enemy attack again?
“Hm? Three of them?”
“Hard to say, my lady.”
Just three ships — it felt almost rude to order them sunk.
“This is an envoy, isn't it?”
“It doesn't look like they mean to attack.”
With ships sinking so often, they'd apparently sent three in the hope that at least one would make it through alive — though at that rate, wouldn't it be smarter to just send someone overland?
Find the right road and you could walk to where we've been pirating in a single day, couldn't you?
She half expected them to sail right past, but no — they were heading straight for our harbor. Well, nothing for it but to go down and see.
Thud.
She waited at the harbor, and the wretched ship crept in at a snail's pace, as if it couldn't decide whether it meant to make port today at all.
Then several men leapt ashore, moored the ship without so much as asking permission, laid down planks — and down came a man who, at a glance, all but wore a sign reading I am a noble.
“Gah!”
Startling like that, right in front of me, like you've seen something terrifying — that's just rude. Island folk really have no manners.
“What is it?”
“K-Kurokin!”
Not even asking my name anymore, just calling out my nickname to my face. Honestly, it's more convenient that way, isn't it? It's the same name as in the old days, so nobody's liable to look at me strangely.
“Am I right?”
Tap, tap.
She drew her blade an inch from its sheath and rapped it twice, and the man's face drained an impressive shade of blue. Even a zombie wouldn't bite its own kind — what was he so scared of?
“Ahem. Hm. F-forgive my rudeness.”
“What do you want?”
“I come from the Hojo clan. If you would but calm yourself and share a cup of tea—”
“I don't have time for that, do you?”
Where does he get off expecting hospitality? He should count himself lucky I don't beat him senseless and send him back in pieces.
Rustle, rustle.
“Then p-perhaps this will serve.”
“What's this letter?”
He fumbled the letter out of his sleeve in a flurry — but why was his face going red? Had he tried some sleazy trick of his own?
Snatch.
Stuff like that doesn't scare me! I flung it wide open.
Let's see. The content is... something about spring days and flowers and willow catkins and whatever else? Is this... a love letter?
Crumple. Splash.
She crumpled it up and hurled it straight into the sea.
“Ah...”
“What's your business here?”
“W-well... marriage...”
“I asked what your business is.”
Go ahead, keep spouting nonsense.
Sshhhing.
“Hiiik! I'll speak! I'll speak!”
“Then hurry up.”
“Y-yes, my lady! We beg you — please, put an end to the piracy!”
All that trembling over an inch of drawn steel. He's no fit for the job of envoy. Aren't envoys supposed to travel prepared to lose their heads?
“What piracy? Never mind that — tell me when you intend to repay the money.”
“Th-that is...”
“Shall I really turn Kamakura into ash?”
“Gah!”
These people have no intention of paying, do they? Nothing but side projects. The gold and silver they sell off to China — they should be bringing that to me, and instead they're out shopping for cannons.
“No matter how many cannons and how much powder you buy, you can't match us anyway. Wouldn't it be wiser to pay off that debt quickly?”
“But! The sum is simply too enormous!”
“Which is exactly why I kept sending letters telling you the interest was piling up, wasn't it? Pay it fast, I said.”
“Th-that's...”
With a conscience, you can't exactly claim there's no record of it. I sent copies everywhere.
“Keep this up, and selling your whole country still won't cover it — the interest alone is 2,174 nyang of silver a day. Or what, do you actually think you can beat us in a war? Are you praying a real expeditionary force comes?”
“Please, have mercy. We don't have that kind of money.”
Of course you don't — it's 39,690,000 nyang. Maybe I should go strip every small gold and silver vein scattered across your hinterlands?
“Mine and hand over three things: gold, silver, and copper.”
“There's no such thing to be had!”
“I know all about the little operations you've been quietly digging here and there. Or shall I just reduce your country to ashes and help myself?”
And honestly, if we stripped the gold alone that your nobles have stashed in their pockets, the debt would be paid off in no time.
“Right — here's my final offer. Eighty thousand nyang of gold, eight hundred thousand nyang of silver, and eight billion nyang of copper, every year, mined diligently and delivered to me. How does that sound?”
“Gah...”
“If you can keep stalling like this — well, if you think you can beat Daehan, by all means, wait and see.”
Maybe I'll just sit back and let it ride? The principal would only keep growing, after all. For now, at least, it's still a sum they could pay off if they truly put their minds to it.