First Entry At the twenty-first day of the Month without Gods, I found myself standing on a hill valley, sword in hand. It was a foggy morning, and a strong piercing rain kept the ground muddy and unstable for combat. Yet combat there was to be. One year earlier, the Emperor had died, and in accordance with tradition, his eldest son succeeded to the throne--however, as the Heir was only seven, a Regent chosen from among the daimyos, or feudal lords of the realm, would rule in the Emperor's name for another eleven years. The daimyo chosen to be Regent was a sworny enemy of my liege lord. Within the course of a year I watched as the Imperial Regent laid waste to the land and destroyed all the gains made by the now-deceased Emperor. Fertile land laid bare because there were no farmers to plant, as the Imperial Regent embarked on a full-scale war of aggression to solidify his iron rule. As this was happening, the Heir was kept behind the palace walls, oblivious to the wails of those beyond the palace moat. Now all this I was well aware of, but were far from my immediate horizons. I was busy tending to my own little fiefdom, granted to my family by the Emperor for services rendered. While small compared to other neighboring fiefs, it had remained in the family for over a hundred years, and I intended to keep it that way. My peasants were happy that year, with the most successful harvest to date, and because of it, no one went hungry. But there was a greater reason to rejoice, for I was to take myself a bride, the beautiful daughter of a neighboring feudal lord. His fief contained the most fertile land in the Empire, at which my fief paled in comparison in all respects. To celebrate the good fortunes of both our fiefs, we were to be wed at the end of the collection of the harvest. I entered my quarters to rest after a busy day's preparation only to be struck senseless. When I awoke, I found out that my bride to be had been murdered in her sleep, and my prospective father-in-law had incriminating and irrefutable evidence that the Imperial Regent had cast his covetuous eyes on our little corner of the Empire. After bidding my love a final farewell, I paid obeisance to the one who would never be my father-in-law and at that moment, pledged my obeience, fortune, and sacred honor. I swore I would avenge my love's death, and in doing so, assuage my grief. I got my wish. We took the field in the afternoon, as the Imperial Regent's forces found themselves stuck in the mud after their primary advance. A swift massed attack on their flanks and their morale collapsed. No prisoners were taken and no quarter was given. I had the pleasure to see the Imperial Regent's head on a spike as I was carried off in a palanquin to a monastery where I was to rest, for the battle was not won without cost.At the general charge in the closing hours of the battle, a lucky archer wounded me in the shoulder, and I fell off my horse, my leg broken. In the months that were to follow, I gained valuable insights conversing with the monks who kept me company. I soon found myself reading from the treatises of a philosopher, and writing my own poetry, things my rudimentary education had denied me. I was even more surprised to discover, when I was able to walk normally again, that an Imperial galley had been sent for my use, luxuriously furnished, provisioned and equipped, ready to take me home to my fief and save several weeks of journey on horseback. On the day of my departure, the monks presented me with a brand-new set of swords, made by one of their own, a former master swordsmith. I gleefully tucked them into my sash, bowed fervently to them, and took the hour-long horseback ride to the coast, and the waiting Imperial galley . We stayed close to the coast the first three days, but on the fourth day, we found ourselves in the path of a tai-fun. It was pushing us away from the coast, and after six hours with no sign of the storm abating, the paddles were secured and we rode the tai-fun out. We struck a reef several hours after nightfall. All of us got away safe by hanging on to various bits of flotsam, as far as I remember. I lost consciousness after that, and awoke to find the morning sun shining, and my arms half-buried in sand. My first instinct after regaining consciousness was to check on my swords. Miraculously, they were still attached to my sash, secured by the strong silk cloth. I then washed off the sand and tried to orient myself. The (continuing) memoirs of Kunshuhito Wa.