Tetsuo felt a shimmer of pride at Matotsuru's obvious admiration of him. It was always a warm comfort for a man of war, who after so many years of bitter sword-work could sit back and admire the self-made empire of respect he had constructed. Pride however, was not something Tetsuo was fond of showing. Neither was it a positive contribution to any person's character. Keeping his face as unfeeling as granite, he joined his companions.

The [i]woman[/i] returned his earlier greeting. He gave her a dismissive nod; had she not been Lord Ito's chosen, she probably would have not recieved even that. He feared a retort, or some kind of hurt expression from the woman's face, but saw none. The tension between them built quickly, and both were forced to averted eye contact to avoid a scene.

Luckily, right on que, the young Matotsuru started to speak with his usual impassioned ideas of the world. Tetsuo was glad for the intervention; a public falling out with one of the other assigned bodyguards would not have boded well for Matotsuru's honour so soon into the trip. After all, who was he to judge this woman's true strength? He would hold her thin arms and frail constitution against her, but would keep a little room of respect for her obvious courage. 

"...we Japanese fought our battles until the Gods themselves swept the Mongols away from our islands," Matotsuru finished.

"Matotsuru, my young friend," said Tetsuo with a gentle smile, "perhaps you wish to tell us of how the Mongols broke upon us like water on rock? How we stood, waiting for them to fight in single combat, as was the custom of our fathers of old." 

The Mongols had no concept of single combat, and little respect for Japan's martial laws. Their formations charged the Japanese homeland and the Samurai were caught off guard by the nature of the attack. Had the 'Gods', as the young man had put it, not stepped in, Japan would have struggled to muster a proper response. 

Before Matotsuru could reply, Tetsuo held up his hand, "A jest, young warrior. an old man's folly." 

Turning abruptly to the Southerner, Tetsuo lowered his head - lower than usual. 

"Shimazu. It is a proud name, worthy of its status in our land, and I am glad that your wisdom matches that status. I am sure that, come what may, I can count on your sound council as well as your blade." 

Turning away from the Southerner, the aging warrior's nerves started to fray. Where was the Princess and her procession? Surely they should have been here waiting for us? He glanced around at the townsfolk, some of whom had now gathered into small groups to watch the procedings. He thought about heading back to the castle to ensure things were okay, that evil had not befallen them before they had even set foot outside the walls, but he quickly calmed himself. Such anxiety would not be a fantastic display to a group of mostly strangers he would be spending a great deal of time with.