A Time Traveller's Guide To Feudal Japan

Jikouji carried a heavy sack into the dimly lit food storage room, as he heaved a sigh, reaching the wall, and dropping the bag to the floor.

He looked behind him down the corridor – there was no one to be seen. And so, he reached out his hand, and pushed downwards, sending the wall underground, before he threw the sack ahead of him, and closed the door up, sending the world around into darkness.

The flickering candle in his hand was his only source of light in the oppressively small treasure room. But he did not feel uncomfortable, far from it. He simply reached out, and lit the surrounding candles, filling the room with a dim light.

"Ah."

He breathed out lightly, finally able to relax. It was so empty – even the coin chest was empty. It was upsetting to have seen the Niwa family brought so low, and he had no doubt that the ancestrial founder of the family would be turning in his grave at such a sight.

And so it was with satisfaction that he brought forth the sack of coin. One coin bag at a time, he tipped their contents into the chest. He did not rush when doing so, enjoying the feeling more.

"And it will only continue to grow, Niwa-san."

He spoke in his mind, not to Niwa Nakatane, but to his faster, the one who had won his loyalty.

"I hope you forgive me, for pledging my allegiance to someone else – but look! This is only the first step of many. That boy will bring the Niwa household great fortune, do not fear. He is still loyal to your son, and he will not let the Niwa name fall into disuse."

He continued on, pouring coin into the chest, and allowing it to assume the shape of the container as though it was a liquid.

"And this... This was only a single raid."

As he ran that thought through his head, he almost cried. The future, it seemed, was so terrifying bright. This was all off a single shipment. The future promised far more – they might even need more chests.

In that moment, he realized, that they were likely richer than the Niwa house had ever been. Even if they had sold all their assets at their peak, it likely would not equal to such a terrifying amount.

"I hope you do not think this path dishonourable, either. But I think you would not, Niwa-san. You too have spent a long time watching this Earth, and I’m sure you’ve learned just as well as me: true honour lies merely in acting out one’s beliefs. And I believe this path to be the right one."

The silken rolls had all been sold, and for a handsome price. Because of the quality and amount of the silk, in total they had secured 6,000 gold. He’d split the 2,000 fairly between the rest of them to keep them contented, and he was able to deposit 4,000 into the treasury.

It was not necessary to keep it down here, and perhaps it was actually more unsafe. But for sentimental purposes, he wished to do so.

He had no doubt that what Gengyo found once he returned would be most appealing to him. Though he sported 2,000 gold, he did not expect the boy to return with many troops. He thought he would likely search for quality, ones where the loyalty was ensured. It was unlikely that he would recruit peasants, as he had once before, merely for 50 silver each.

He was thinking that he’d likely end up paying around 4 gold per troop, plus a sizeable amount for their upkeep. But that did not matter. The gold they were raking in was more than enough to support such things.

There were a total of three chests in the room, and with his 4,000 gold, the central one was overflowing. He stuck in his hand, and ran the cool metal between his fingers. He stood in a room that was hundreds of years old. And this here was an offering to men far older, and far wiser than he.

It was a good sight, indeed. But he still felt the room was more bare than it ought to be, and he flicked open the lid of the rightmost chest, so that he might imagine it full of coin, just as this one was.

"Eh?"

He frowned, as he looked inside. He could have sworn it was empty before. But now, there was a single piece of inked paper sat on the bottom, purposefully. It was clearly not just a random scrap.

With tentative fingers, he picked it up, and turned it over, revealing the text on the other side. He was rather nervous in reading it, as it was certainly something that was not meant to be there.

"Hello, Jikouji."

It read. He flinched slightly from that first sentence. Could it be, perhaps, a message from the ancestors? Were they that pleased with his offering?

"If you’re reading this, that means you’ve had the first successful raid since I left. Good work. By this point, you too should have realized just how lucrative our little business will prove to be."

His frown deepened as he read that.

"But it is quite the volatile thing to do, and the coin earned must be dealt with carefully, and invested, for the sea has always been chaotic, and it is impossible to predict things long term."

"Thus, comes my request. Once we have reached 10,000 gold in the treasury, I ask that you invest the rest into rice, and grain."

"Signed, Miura Tadakata..."

He read the last part aloud in disgust.

"That little brat..."

In leaving the letter here, Gengyo had predicted what he would do upon the completion of the their first raid. It was not a pleasant feeling to be predicted as such.

It was interesting to find that he wrote just as he spoke, and in that way, it was rather pleasant to hear from the lad once more. A whole week had passed since he left, and they were all worried as to his well being.

He held the letter close, as he read it once more.

"Haha, a message from the ancestors – how foolish am I?"

He questioned.

"Still, rice and grain eh? Mm..."

They would be able to buy an awful lot of rice and grain with the coin they were earning. But he could guess why had requested such a thing – reassurance. No matter how much coin one had, if he could not spend it, then it had no worth.

As such, he invested it into something more useful – something that would always hold value, no matter what happened to a country: food. If they ever needed more coin, they could simply sell the rice and grain if necessary. But in the event that Imagawa attempted to suppress them, then they would still be able to survive quite comfortably.

With a light gust of expelled air, Jikouji blew the candles out, and then left the old treasury room, with a smile on his face.

Isabella was already looking into finding their next ship – no doubt they would be investing into grain rather soon.

...

...

’Oh...’

Seeing the state of chaos in Toyokawa, Isabella couldn’t help being taken aback. How could a small ship - with just over ten individuals - cause such alterations to the behaviours of thousands of people.

They talked incessantly about it – that and the incompetent state of the city guard. Away from the port, there had been a mass recruitment push going on by the commander of the guards, who sought to expand their ranks, and ensure absolute safety for the people in the harbour.

The traders had gone to such an event merely to hurl abuse at them for their lack of competence – yet another trading vessel had been butchered and stolen from, whilst the only ship they had managed to take down was one of their own.

The city commander handled the abuse well, however, and quickly moved to sooth them, though on the inside he was just as enraged as they.

The only traders that did not show any concern were the European ones. They had watched with idle eyes as the black-flagged ship caused such problems for the city guard, and they had laughed. Such a ship could not hope to stand against the likes of them – a single volley of cannon fire, and it would be sharing it’s story with the fishes.

Because of the concern for their own security, there were fewer vessels in the port than there had been last time – they had escaped whilst they could, since they knew the black-flagged ship was already laden with loot, and would not waste time with them.

This made her job markedly harder than it had previously, that and the distrustful atmosphere of the place. There was no longer any confidence in the city guard, and the traders – out of fear – were no longer as free speaking.

It wasn’t just her job that was more difficult though, as she saw sh.i.p.s belonging to the city guard sitting atop the water, waiting to react should anything untoward happen.

Had she not overheard otherwise, she would have assumed that the same bow troops were present on these vessels. But according to certain conversations that were being had, the commander of the guards had bought up every rifle he could, and armed his men with them, after a small amount of training.

He was desperate, and was willing to do whatever it took to seize even a small advantage. He was well aware of the destruction a cannon could cause, and hoped that the muskets were able to cause similar damage to a ship.

In response to his questions in that regard, the Europeans had merely nodded. Though internally, they were greatly amused. A musket was not to be used to fire at a ship, but at men. That mattered not to them however, they were merely concerned with selling their cargo.

Because of this recent addition to their arsenal, there was some cause for concern. The ammunition fired from such weapons, was not something that they had large quantities of, and the Europeans were unwilling to sell all that they had, as it would leave them defenceless.

In his stupidity, the commander of the guards had made such a request public. As the traders were gathered, he beseeched them.

"Hear me, traders! In order to keep our port secure, I have invested in a new weapon – one of the European standard. Yet, for these weapons, we need far more gunpowder. Are there any amongst you who can supply me with atleast 15 barrels of your finest powder?"

"My price? Oh, you will not find it unreasonable. Eight thousand gold!"

He proclaimed, sweeping his gaze over the crowd, enjoying the shocked expressions on their faces at his offering – it was certainly a huge amount.

In response to those words, many a trader found themselves curse – if only they had some connections – from which they could get gunpowder – then they would be very rich indeed. But none did, so they could only look round bitterly and hope that others were of similar luck.

But there was one man, who stuck a tentative arm in the air, and proclaimed that he could.

"When might you be able to deliver that by, my good man?"

The commander asked, not hiding his enthusiasm.

"On the morrow will do me just fine."

Came the reply.

And so, merely by standing by listening, Isabella had the information she needed, and as the others were preoccupied with the rest of the commander’s speech, she slipped silently through the crowd, and made her way to her horse.

Speed was of the essence for the preparations ahead.

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