Their short march toward Washizu began at dawn, and ended rather quickly. They marched behind ten white horses, each holding a mounted rider. Gengyo guessed that the middlemost man – who wore armour of a different colour to the rest – was Okabe Motonobu. The men around him each wore green armour, whilst his was almost yellow.
In the armour department, his men's armour was not far below theirs. They marched proudly in their new garb, each of them armoured like a samurai might be – aside from their lack of a men-yoroi. Nakatane had watched them appear in the morning with great surprise. Such quality armour was expensive. Highly expensive. Yet the young lad – merely with the coin he was given – had managed to find enough to arm his entire unit.
The effect it had on their morale was tremendous. Each of them wore a full set of the blackest armour imaginable. For it to gain such a deep shade of black, it must have been left to soak in the dye for days.
