The 4 Day Ruler

If you were an observer objectively looking at his position within the family, Ashina Ide wouldn’t be considered a front runner to lead the Ashina clan, quite the opposite really. He was the second son of one of his father’s concubines and held no real influence with the Ashina family power players. Additionally, Ide was a poor swordsman, never took to horsemanship, and his aim with a bow was horrible, and for a samurai living in a warrior caste society, this was akin to being cursed. So once Ide reached the age of adulthood he was relegated to command a small outpost in the north, Hagi castle. A minor family member to be forgotten by serving as a short delay if an enemy force from the Date Daimyo invades.

Of course fate had different plans for Ide.

When the clan leader of a Daimyo, the word for a Japanese feudal lord and also the land he controls, passes away, every surviving member within the clan faces uncertainty in their future. This is especially true if a successor hadn’t been named before the clan leaders demise. It is at this point where the power players of the clan position themselves with competing powers based on who had the best chance of coming out on top or where you could gain the most. A Darwinistic process where brothers turn on brothers, uncles fight with nephews, and old slights, no matter how real or imagined, are remembered and used as an excuse, or sometimes a bargaining chip, to gain more power and align with the eventual successor.

Today that successor was Moritaka, who was the oldest legitimate son of the recently passed Daimyo. A proven battle leader, well liked by much of the family, and he held influence all the way to the emperor’s court in Kyoto, but his position was tenable at best. Isshin, his uncle who controlled a swath of land to his south from Odomoto castle, and who’s army was just as large, had not sworn fealty to Moritaka yet and rumblings of an insurrection within the clan were openly discussed.

And just as predatory as the scheming family members, are the surrounding Daimyos who may look upon the death of one of their peers as an opportunity to expand the land they control. Date was the Daimyo just north of the Ashina and the two have been enemies for as long as recorded history. Small in area, and relatively poor compared to other Daimyos, the Date were led by an aggressive and overly ambitious clan leader, Date Tomo, who saw the instability and the uncertainty in the transfer of power within the Ashina clan as the chance to expand and enrich his holdings.

Betting that the eldest son, Moritaka, would be named the new heir of the Ashina clan, Tomo reached out to other Ashina family members offering assurances of support, additional land, new authority, or anything else he could promise to drive a wedge between them and their loyalties to Moritaka. Within weeks of hearing that the Ashina clan leader had died, and feeling as though he had sowed enough discord into Moritaka’s competitors for power, Tomo had raised his army and moved on the competing Daimyo.

To reach the heart of the Ashina lands and hold its base of power, Aizu-Wakamatsu Castle, Date Tomo would have to take the castle guarding the road between the two Daimyos, Hagi Castle, so that his supply lines traveling from Date could move unhindered. It was tactically impossible to fight a war and especially conduct a siege with another force at your back. So Tomo would leave a portion of his army, under the command of his son-in-law, Takeda, to quickly take Hagi castle before re-joining Date Tomo’s main force and defeat Moritaka at Aizu-Wakamatsu.

The fighting had subsided and Ide sat cross legged and with his back straight on the floor of the castle’s cellar. Around him were empty shelves, where once pots of fermented fish, rice, pickled cucumbers, honey, and various fruits were once stored, but have now been exhausted after three weeks of siege by the Date forces. Broken pieces of the clay pots lay spread out on the straw strewn floor of the cellar and the smell of smoke from the burning buildings above him have started to reach this lower level. It all served to remind Ide of the situation he finds himself in, a samurai who failed in holding the castle and now must take his own life to preserve his family’s honor.

Earlier in the day, Ide found himself one of 23 remaining warriors protecting Hagi castle, and of those under his command, three were elderly peasants and another had the use of only one arm. Some army he was commanding thought Ide. All of them had wounds to some degree but nothing that prevented them from manning the walls, but throughout the day they held off wave after wave of Date attacks. And when night fell, only 11 still stood, but they would perish before the morning as the Date forces had finally breached the castle perimeter.

Knowing this was the end, Ide placed his final testimony beside him, written weeks ago with the expectation that holding on to Hagi castle was a pipe dream. He opened up his kimono, and then paused looking around the cellar. He laughed at the ironic bleakness of where he was going to die. “So this is how and where a mediocre samurai dies,” he thought to himself. “I always expected it to be in battle when a superior swordsman would claim my head in single combat. An easy prize for an ambitious samurai.” Even now, as he pondered how he reached this point, Ide understood his procrastination in disemboweling himself and preserving his family’s honor reaffirmed the notion that he was never destined to be a great warrior. He did not want to die!

The scent of smoke grew stronger. Ide smiled as he thought, “Wouldn’t it be great if my body was consumed in flames afterward. Date Tomo would not have my head as a trophy presented to him at his viewing ceremony of defeated samurai. I’m sure my absence would make it a hollow victory.” Ide laughed. It was a descent into gallows humor he had acquired since the siege of Hagi started.

“Let’s get on with this,” Ide thought. With his hand shaking, Ide poured sake into a cup, and then with a primal yell, he threw the remainder of the bottle against a wall smashing it. The glass exploded on the stone and the clear liquid slowly ran down the wall. It was an outburst of frustration knowing his situation was lost. Wearing the disappointment of his dire situation clearly on his face, Ide composed himself as best he could and with both hands he held the glass up to his forehead as he bowed and recited his prayers of family lineage and their deeds in battle. Ide then took his final drink.

Footsteps of men in armor could be heard in the room just above him.

“Ashina Ide” one of them yelled

Time was now crucial. The castle had finally fallen and his head was going to be a small prize for whatever samurai was coming down the steps. Ide unsheathed his tanto, placed a cloth around the blade so it would not cut his assisting hand, and held it against the left side of his abdomen a few inches above his hip. He held his breath for a moment.

It wasn’t family, the honor of his Daimyo, the men who died fighting with him, or a special memory that now occupied Ide’s mind. It was the fact that he didn’t have a retainer who would sever his spinal cord with a swift strike after he plunged the blade into his belly. The assisting act ensured that whoever was committing suicide would feel as little pain as possible. “Is this a selfish thought before I die? Why do I only think of myself and the pain I could avoid when the family is of utmost importance? I am an embarrassment to my vows right to the end.”

“Ashina Ide” he heard yelled again. “Where are you?”

Ide released his breath and then inhaled deeply, closed his eyes, and drove the blade into the left side of his abdomen. The pain erupted through his body and the strength in his hands seemed to wane as he drug the the sharp steel across his belly. As the blade sliced, warm viscous fluid seeped from his wound and covered his hands and knife. The slippery fluid eventually worked its way between the handle and his hold on the dagger causing Ide to lose his grip. The distinct metal sound echoed through the cellar as it fell on the stone floor. “A samurai who can’t retain his blade, pathetic!”

If done properly, the tanto should have been driven deep enough so that as he pulled it across his midsection the blade would have sliced the aortic artery and vein guaranteeing his death within seconds. Ide kneeled on the floor watching the dark rich fluid slowly ooze across the straw and stones. He realized that he hadn’t cut sufficiently for a swift death. “I was a mediocre samurai, even at the very end.”

Through the dim torchlight, Ide could see that a figure had reached the bottom of the steps and was approaching him. Dressed in highly ornate armor, in his hand he held a katana with a distinct yellow handle and indigo scabbard. His family’s sword!

He was going to lose his head to his own family’s sword. “This end couldn’t be more ironic. How cursed am I?” thought Ide.

“Ashina Ide?” The warrior asked.

After three weeks of fighting, being covered in blood, dirt, and soot hid his identity from the warrior. Ide was going to resist to the end, so he only smiled and tried to straighten his posture.

The samurai unlatched the clasp on his helmet holding his face mask and raised it up so Ide could see his face. He immediately recognized his uncle, Isshin. While many in the family had doubts about Isshin’s support for his brother Moritaka, no one could have imagined he would throw his lot in with the hated Date clan and betray the family.

“This castle will be the prize of a turncoat. A final insult to cap the mockery I will be burdened with in history.” Ide could feel his life slipping away but knew it wouldn’t go fast enough to avoid the humiliation of losing his head to this pig.

More of his uncle’s men poured into the room and positioned themselves to the sides but a step behind Isshin.

Ide looked about and assumed these vultures wanted to get a good view of his deathblow. He didn’t care any more, feeling dizzy and his strength slipping, Ide slumped to the floor and laid in a puddle of his own blood. “I guess there was more room for humiliation,” Ide thought, “I can’t even sit up and face my death like a true samurai.”

Isshin kneeled in front of him, lowered his head and held the sword out. His retainers also kneeled.

“What is happening,” a confused Ide wondered. “Are they mocking me before I die?”

“My army arrived at Aizu-Wakamatsu castle 5 days ago.” Isshin spoke, “We were able to attack Date Tomo while he was conducting the siege of your brother’s castle, and like a vice, we crushed him between my army and the walls of Aizu-Wakamatsu. This victory was only possible because part of Date Tomo’s army was bogged down here trying to take this castle.”

Isshin raised his head and looked Ide in the eyes. “But the victory didn’t come without cost. Your brother was mortally wounded and died the next morning. With Aizu-Wakamatsu castle secured we came here as soon as possible.”

Ide was truly bewildered now but this could be from blood loss. He looked at Isshin. “So you are the Daimyo now?”

Isshin, was now the one who had a confused look on his face. “No, before your brother died he named you his successor!”

Ide’s consciousness was waning but he asked, “How would he have known that I was still alive? None of my messengers could find an opening in the siege lines to reach Moritaka”

Isshin replied, “We had captured messengers to Date Tomo from Takeda’ army. They said they could not break the nest of vipers holding at Hagi. The men here were being led by a fierce samurai, a dragon named Ide.”

Isshin placed the sword next to Ide and continued. “On his deathbed your brother named you, Hagi no doragon, the successor and all of the family leaders agreed. You have been the Daimyo for the past 4 days.”

Ide smiled and repeated what Isshin said before succumbing to his wounds, “Hagi no doragon…...the Dragon of Hagi!”