Their horses bounded through the mud of the border village days later. Fields had been abandoned mid-harvest – there was not a single soul in sight.
"They've fled the Uesugi," Jikouji said, "a relief that they had sense enough to do that at least. We have made good time. We might be able to meet them yet."
"The tracks my lord," a samurai interrupted. He had professed himself to be an expert of the hunt and so they had brought him to the front of the column in order to test his skill. "The mud is chewed up. There have been horses through here. A lot of them and recently too."
Gengyo shared a look with Jikouji at that. "Uesugi or Takeda?" He asked as he thought out loud.
"Let us hope it is the latter," Jikouji said bitterly. Their scouts were running late and their knowledge of the position was far more crude than they would have liked. With smoke on the horizon, things were looking grim.
