Their grand army moved sluggishly across the rolling plains, towards the open gates of Shigeto. Morojo had worked tirelessly while they were away, and all traces of their battle with Imagawa had vanished. The servants had toiled for days, throwing body after body on top of a grand fire. The smell of burning flesh had hung in the air for weeks, until the storm came and the wind and rain washed the air clean.
With the rebuilding, the merchants had been welcomed back into the grand capital, and gladly they came. They were the first to be bound by the new tax laws in place, but there was never a word of complaint, for it was still half of what Imagawa had forced on them.
The river was once more filled with wooden barges, poled up and down the river, loaded with all sorts of good. Jewellers had swarmed to the capital like flies, hearing of the gold and jewels that were being auctioned off so cheaply.
