A Time Traveller's Guide To Feudal Japan

"Exactly. These women are currently under the influence of this little brown powder. Now... Isabella, I can assume from how you’ve been responding to my questions that you will not be cooperating? That’s fine. But your master Toda is dead. It’s foolish to keep up this pretence."

Her eyes widened at the mention of Toda’s death.

"Dead..? But how..? He-"

She looked back from Gengyo, and then toward Nakatane.

"It can’t be..."

She whispered.

"Your thoughts are correct. That man is the honourable Niwa Nakatane. He delivered Toda a crushing defeat, and ended his life."

He toyed with the jar, replacing its lid and holding it loosely. He could see traces of anxiety present on Isabella’s face as he treated it so casually, threatening to drop it at times.

"Do you not feel relief? You’re quite clearly a slave. Toda is dead – you have the opportunity to regain your freedom. As do the rest of these women."

Her soft and innocent expression - that had looked so fearful before - started to fade. The mask had been removed, and anger replaced it as her lips curled up in a vicious smile.

"What? Do you think you’re heroes? That you can just charge in here and save us? You’re delusional. You’ve only made our lives worse. Perhaps being a slave is not the best life, but at least we were fed. At least we were warm."

Gengyo shrugged.

"That’s up to you. We are simply here to reclaim a little bit of what Toda has taken. We’re more robbers than heroes. Though, I do think if you’d been discovered by true bandits, this conversation would not be had. You would be r.a.p.ed, or killed. Perhaps both."

He wandered over to the bedside cabinet, allowing her to ponder on what he had said. Judging by the expression she wore, it was not something she was particularly fond of hearing, but it was certainly the truth.

Nakatane and Jikouji were surprised by his coldness toward the woman. They had watched him treat the villagers they encountered with warmth, and patience, and they could not help but wonder what about this woman was so different. If anything, should he not be treating her even more gently – after all, she was so beautiful.

A few trinkets were to be found in the drawers. A golden hand mirror, some jewel-encrusted rings, a few necklaces, and other things of that sort. The majority were pieces of female jewellery. It seemed the man had enjoyed dressing these docile she-cats with his wealth.

He pushed all the items that held any amount of value into a small wooden jewellery chest, and as he passed them, he gently removed the pieces that the women were wearing. They regarded him lazily, caring more about the jar of opium he’d left on the cabinet than what he was doing.

He handed his haul to Nakatane, waking the older man up from his thoughts. The three of them had been left completely dazed. This perfumed space was like a thick oil lake, and only Gengyo could traverse it freely. What they had seen and been awed by, he had looked upon with distaste.

He was a man that did not hold a single degree of sympathy for the ugly monster that was other people’s s.e.x.u.a.l fantasies. When he looked toward the women, he could not see their beauty, instead, he saw on their skin the thick ugly slime that Toda secreted with his twisted touch.

A degree sympathy had been willing to show itself, for this was not a situation of their choosing. But toward Isabella, he was unable.

"We’re done here. Shall we go and check the lower floor? I would ask our friend Isabella, but sometimes not knowing is better than misinformation."

"Ah, yes..."

Nakatane nodded slightly, and moved back out the door, towards cleaner air. Rokkaku needed a little more persuading, but he made his way out as well.

The rest of the men were emerging from their rooms too, showing off the pieces that they had found. Golden candle holders, a few jewelled quills, and other more mundane items.

They smelt the scent of perfume drifting from behind Gengyo and his group, and they each held a degree of curiosity, but none could see past them.

"Good work everyone. We’ve collected a few pieces of jewellery too. Let’s head downstairs and see what else our buddy Toda has got stashed away from us, eh?"

There were enthusiastic nods, and with a gesture, Gengyo motioned for Morohira to lead the way. Enjoying that responsibility possible more than he should, his father strode to the front with a swagger, and trotted downstairs as though he were a king showing guests around his grand castle.

The men passed on ahead – Rokkaku included – and the young man spoke to the two older men who were left behind.

"We can deal with the women in there later, but it should be done delicately, as that’s an extremely large quantity of opium, and if you ingest even the smallest amount, you’re going to be out of it for a while."

"I see. So that was opium, eh? I think I’ll leave the handling of this to you. That room made me rather light-headed."

Nakatane responded, back to his old self.

"Opium of all things though. Imagawa-sama placed a strict ban on its import... To think Toda was insane enough to deal in it. That is more than enough to explain his wealth."

Jikouji commented, shaking his head in disbelief.

"I have a feeling it’s not only that, though. There was a merchant who joined him mid-battle. I’ve been curious as to who he was for a time... but now, after seeing those women, I’m thinking that he was a slaver."

"A slaver?! You mean to say that he was going to sell off my people? That sc.u.mbag!"

The master clenched his fist, and a glower of rage crossed his face.

"That’s what I’m thinking. He has no qualms about keeping drugged women as slaves, so morality is certainly not an issue. Regardless... We should get moving. The sooner we clean this up the better."

"Aye. I will be glad to leave this place."

Nakatane began down the stairs, and they followed.

"Ah! Give me a moment. I left the jar of opium with those women. Go ahead without me, I’ll be down in a second."

They nodded, and continued downwards, as he dashed back toward the room.

With slow movements he removed the jar from its resting place, giving a cold glance toward Isabella as he passed.

She regarded him disinterestedly, as though she held not a single care what he thought of her. The red cloth that had been dr.a.p.ed around her was also discarded in the corner, as she now sat on the bed.

"What is it you fear, Isabella? Working in the fields? Going hungry? Or will you simply miss being able to wear such expensive trinkets? You’re the only one who is not out of their mind on drugs. Were you his favourite, then? Did he treat you well?"

He studied her face intently, taking in the slightest twitches of muscles, keen to get under her mask.

"Yes, he treated me very well. And now we will all go hungry, because of you."

She spat out with venom.

He showed not the slightest trace of emotion at her words, and instead raised his hand high.

Instinctively, she flinched, and turned away, expecting to be hit.

"A lie. He beat you, just as he beat them. There is no way someone with Toda’s appetites would engage in a loving s.e.x.u.a.l relationship. You can smell it as soon as you walk in - though you try to hide it with your perfumes. Each of you stink of it – but you most strongly. You carry the stench of... humiliation."

He paused for a second, as he observed her expression.

"A person like you would not last as a farmer. Your hands are too soft. Perhaps you can go into prostitution – there would be many places that are willing to have you. But who’s to say that you will be treated fairly? You will likely end up a slave again. Perhaps to an even worse man. A grim prospect, would you not agree?"

She frowned bitterly. It was everything that she already knew.

"Yet, there is still another option. There is a job that even you can succeed at. A job where you won’t have to be a slave. You won’t have to sell your body. You won’t have to be beat. I’m sure you know what I mean, don’t you?"

Her bitterness disappeared as confusion took over. Her thoughts raced, assembling all the pieces of the recent conversation, and attempting to put them together. But none of it made sense. No such grand job could be found.

But even though her heart told her that this man was simply toying with her, she still spoke out. What did she care if she suffered one more humiliation?

"...What job is that?"

He offered her a small smile as he folded his arms and spoke slowly and clearly.

"Work for me. You have a particular set of talents - ones that I can put to use."

She reeled back in surprise, her eyes firmly locked with his.

And then, she began to laugh. He’d played her well. She had to give it to him – that was one grand punchline.

"Ahaha, you’re a cruel man!"

But he did not join in her laughter. Quite the contrary- his smile faded, and he allowed a deathly chill to enter his voice.

"I am not joking."

Her laughter soon faded too, as she felt the room become a degree colder.

"You go too far... From the very start you looked at me with disgust, as though I were some flee ridden dog. You care not for my body in the least... you see me for what I truly am."

"I do. But though you smell fouly, you have a frightening deal of potential. I say it again: I have a use for you."

She lapsed into silence, her forehead wrinkling in concentration.

He patted the metal of the opium jar with his fingers, before leaning in close and whispering toward her ear. She froze as he came closer, her hairs sticking up.

But as he finished what he had to say, they had completely relaxed. He moved away from her, and she looked at him with disbelief.

"That is how you will find me, should you decide favourably."

"But is that not a bit much..."

"No. It is just enough."

He waved his hand as though to shoo away any of her doubts, and turned on his heel – jar in hand – and moved toward the door.

"It’s a good opportunity, Isabella. You might even get the chance to save those little lambs behind you."

She glanced toward a girl, dressed in green silk, who was rolling on her back and gargling happily, like a child. Guilt filled her heart, but out of the corner of her eye, she saw Gengyo leave, and that guilt was soon replaced by urgency.

She reached under the bed, grabbing what she knew to be Toda’s kimono. She threw it on. It was rather loose, but it would serve its purpose.

She dashed hurriedly around, cursing Gengyo under her breath.

’Why did that damnable man make it so difficult?’

//Author’s Note

A little different to what I have written thus far. But intelligence notices opportunity and takes it. Thanks for reading folks!! :)