Confronting the tyrant

A man puts his knees on the floor and hands on his knees in seiza, and bows his spine forward, looking at the tatami floor. A second man sits on a raised square in front of him, back upright, and says: “Ryubei-dono, you arrive as expected. Rise, and tell me of the battle at Kyosho. How did it go?”

Ryubei-dono sits upright and regards his daimyo, his liege. “Dozuo-sama, it was a decisive victory. Ensho’s forces routed, and we completely eliminated the garrison to the west side of the river. Very little stands between us and taking the city of Rakuyo.”

Dozuo bares his teeth, and laughs. “Sasuga Ryubei-dono, as I expected of you. You are my shrewdest, a model general. With Ensho’s fall, our conquest of tenka, all under heaven, will be complete. I will crown myself the Divine Emperor of Fusan! After that, we will expand our domain outwards, into the vast uninhabited lands. All the people will adore me and pay me their respects. My domains, my riches and my women will be more numerous than is imaginable. And you, Ryubei-dono, for your role in this, you will have a duchy.” Dozuo grabs a cup of steaming sencha from the low table, and takes a sip. “Let us devise, sequentially, a plan to defeat Ensho.”

Ryubei’s face is calm as he grabs a second cup and sips. He is silent for a moment longer, while he recalls the atrocities that Dozuo committed: the famine caused by feeding the army in Joushu, what happened to Keishu when it wouldn’t surrender quickly enough. The time to act is definitely now.

“Dozuo, you contemptible snake. All these years I served you, but in my heart I carried betrayal. I made plans, led armies and carried out your orders—all to hide! You executed the generals who showed mercy, those who had morals. I knew what would happen to me. I laughed outwardly at others’ misery, while I held sorrow in my heart. And yet I had to do it: the other warlords were no better and you, the strongest, were our only way of stopping them. Your reign of terror ends—now! I will force you to retire, to be emperor in name only, but not rule. The people will prosper and flourish.”

At that, Ryubei stands up and puts a hand on his wakizashi sword, while Dozuo yells “Guards! Restrain this man.” The guards run into the room, but stand aside. “You see, Dozuo-sama, I have shown proof of your wickedness to your army, and a better way. Most of the troops are now loyal to me. Surrender!”

Dozuo’s lips curl upward in a sneer, and he chuckles. “Bakayarou! You fool, Ryubei-dono; who are you loyal to? You have followed my orders countless times, fought countless battles for me and killed countless men. At my command, you massacred Keishu to encourage the other cities to surrender to me as well. I have trained you to follow my orders, and now I own you. Your actions define you, and have defined you to be someone who obeys me, no matter how wicked the command. Now, stand down.”

Ryubei’s eyes widen in surprise as he sits seiza again, taking the hand off his sword. “No! I deny this! The character of someone who in his heart harbors good, and commits evil deeds to do a greater good later, explains my actions better than obedience—how else would I have spoken against you earlier?”

Dozuo puts down his sencha tea, and says: “Your past actions were too sincere. Instead of giving mercy to civilians when I wasn’t quite looking, you massacred them by the hundreds as I commanded. In no way, subtle or obvious, did you deviate from the perfect subordinate. Do you think a mere few sentences outweigh that?”

Ryubei hesitates, then furrows his brow. “No. But they don’t need to, since my behavior was equally explained by either possibility.” Ryubei’s resolve strengthens and he stands up. “Come, guards. Let’s take him to his cell. I will make peace, and then I will step down. The people will have their prosperity.” On the back of his head, he can’t quite shake a dissonant sensation.