Ichi-go Ichi-e

Bishop had told him I was the go-to guy to ask, and could help out the barony. 

That I was the equal of five other guys on the line. 

Maybe.

On a good day.

The feast was in two weeks and one of the rival baronies was planning to make a move, that he couldn’t counter. 

The Baron needed more time to practice and get some of the newer members in order, time they just didn’t have.

Unknowingly, Bishop had put me in a tight spot. 

It was one thing to recommend me, but by hyping me up, in the eyes of the tradition it now made it hard to say no. 

The Baron interpreted my silence as hesitation, countering it was only for a weekend, and he would supply the equipment I needed.

Think of it like camping, only with swords.

The gathering was bigger then I had anticipated, and it was clear his excellency the Baron had left out a few details. 

Just how bad were things?

His men were in good cheer at the camp, but given the mix-and-match approach to the equipment, this was either a barony on the way up or worse on the way down.

The rules laid out had each group camped on opposite side of the field, and in the morning both sides would try to negotiate, and failing that the event would continue. 

That night there would be a feast for both the living and the dead, and the next morning the conclusion of the gathering with everybody who was still alive.  

The next morning, I had to agree, it was a sight to behold, and something that I had never seen in my life outside of the movies.

Rows and rows of men in armor, flags and pennants snapping in the wind, and the silence of something to come.

As a mercenary for the barony I felt a bit out of place. 

My borrowed armor was mismatched, I carried no banner or pennant, and the only distinguishing mark I bore was a bright blue scarf wrapped around my right arm signaling I was the hired help for the day.

The baron and his entourage walked out to the center of the field to meet their counterpart from the opposing side as the man and quite a few women around me checked and recheck their kit. 

With the return of the baron the signal was given and we began to march.

When the first volley of arrows hit the pace picked up and the line shifted as people began to pick out their opposite on the other side and begin to line up for the break. 

I picked my own target, lined up, and advanced when suddenly somebody was calling my name. One of the field commanders was motioning to me and a few others to break off and run down to the other side of the line. 

Things had already broken out on one of the flanks and it needed to be reinforced before the main group hit. 

About a dozen or so of us running though the line, trying to get to the side as quickly as we can as the losses were already mounting. Along the way, combatants from both sides sitting on the ground, having been scored out already. 

As we got closer, that is when I saw them.

A person in black and red armor out of place for the event, swinging a large curved sword that had already downed three on our side.

Instinctively I lined up to face them and lowered my spear as we began to circle around each other while the others around us rushed to attack each other, furiously smashing and cutting recklessly.

As we kept out distance they waited for me to attack like the others, and it was a few moments later that he saw what I saw when his footwork shifted.

My armor might have been pieced together, and my spear not quite the style I was familiar with, but like them, we were both from a different place and time.

If I was worth five, they were worth ten or fifteen at least. 

Continuing to circle each other out postures shifted looking for openings that didn’t’ exist, as I was reminded of a gokui: when two tigers fight, one dies and the other is maimed for life.

I opened with a thrust and followed with the back end of the spear as their sword came up and around. 

A leap away to counter their counter, followed by a series of thrusts to keep them away, as we again circled around each other.

Back and forth we attacked looking for openings, something that I wasn’t willing to risk so I kept my distance using the changing nature of the spear.

The only advantage I had, and it wasn’t much of one was a passing familiarity of their school, while it appeared to be clear that they did not have any familiarity with mine.  

We continued for another fifteen minutes or so, when we both realized that the battle had left us behind and was not more then halfway down the field.  

I lowered my spear and came to rest and it was at that point that they realized my plan was not to try and kill them. 

The realization that by delaying them, I had prevented them from killing twenty or so on my side. 

Cautiously they backed away before breaking off and running to rejoin the group.

That night both sides feasted together around a large fire pit celebrating the day and honoring the dead who once again walked among us.

The day went well for our side, well as in as best as could be expected, and while it wasn’t decisive yet, there was still a chance to score enough the next day.

Being an outsider and not having any friends at the feast I looked for an open spot at the end of one of the tables and found a group to sit with.

We talked, and soon laughed together once the drinks started flowing and every time mine was empty one man in particular made sure it was always full again. 

Returning the favor, I asked him what he thought of the day, and if he was a part of the living or the dead.

It was a good day with much fun and many victories, and he was looking forward to the next day as he had the most unexpected surprise today on the field.

It had never happened at any of the other feasts he attended, and his wishes for the next day were that it could happen again.

When he asked if I was still among the living he didn’t’ seem to be surprised. 

Maybe we will meet on the field in the morning.